Chapter 125

From a distance, Aegor could already see the scale of his enterprise.

It was impossible to miss. The factory, a result of assembly line production requiring substantial space and relying on the Blackwater Rush for water power, dictated the orientation and layout of the buildings, and thus their location. The structure was a rectangular behemoth, fifty to sixty meters long, thirty to forty meters wide, and seven to eight meters high—a massive brick-like building perched beside the Blackwater. Covering thousands of square meters, it might seem unremarkable in a modern industrial zone, but here, in the open expanse outside King’s Landing, even to someone accustomed to the scale of the Wall, it was an impressive sight—an absolute spectacle to the locals who had seen far less.

Nina mentioned that the merchant investing in the second factory decided to join the venture immediately upon witnessing this "grand sight" from a few hundred meters away. Thinking back, Aegor realized that such decisiveness was hardly surprising. Seeing was believing. No matter how much he and Tyrion had hyped up the Night’s Watch industries, nothing could match the persuasive power of standing before a sprawling factory and industrial park in person.

Beyond the operational workshop and the one still under construction, smaller rectangular buildings dotted the area, likely living quarters. The structures were too far away to discern details, so the group pressed forward.

As they got closer, Aegor noticed something new: the entire Night’s Watch industrial park was surrounded by a wooden palisade, tall enough to tower over a person. The fence curved slightly, disappearing into the horizon—Tyrion had claimed an extensive area, it seemed. The gaps in the palisade served as entrances and exits, complete with gates, a grand signboard, and a security booth. The words Night’s Watch Industries were boldly inscribed across the gate, large enough to be visible from afar.

A group of about ten people stood near the entrance, peering down the road toward King’s Landing. Though their faces were indistinguishable, the unmistakable silhouette of a small man—likely Tyrion—stood out. Jaqen must have arrived thirty minutes earlier to notify them, but how long had this group been waiting?

The scene left Aegor slightly touched. Tyrion was a partner and a noble with contributions far exceeding his own to the Night’s Watch industries, yet in public, he always gave Aegor full credit and respect. Having such a skilled and supportive teammate—someone who would take the lead, make room for you to shine, and carry the team—was a rare blessing.

With a light nudge of his horse, Aegor and his party soon reached the gate.

“Aegor! It must’ve been grueling to ride with King Robert on his campaign!” Tyrion greeted him loudly.

“Not at all! Barely did a thing these two months—just stumbled into some glory at the end.” Returning the favor, Aegor humbly added, “But you, Tyrion, have made so much progress here I barely recognize the place!”

Dismounting, Aegor walked toward his "teammate." The height difference made hugging impractical, so they settled for a firm handshake, gripping tightly.

“Listen up, everyone! This is Aegor West, legendary traveler, Chief Quartermaster of the Night’s Watch, supreme leader of the Night’s Watch industries, and the highest authority over all of us, myself included!” Tyrion turned to the gathered workers and managers, his voice booming. “Next time you see him, don’t fail to recognize him!”

“Welcome, Lord Aegor!” The first group of Night’s Watch managers responded in unison. Though their voices were loud, they lacked coordination—it was clear they’d been caught unprepared.

“Hello, everyone,” Aegor said with a smile, waving. The last time he’d inspected the paper mill, he’d relished the thrill of being in charge. Now, it felt more natural—he truly was their leader. “For reasons beyond my control, I’ve been absent for two months. Fortunately, thanks to Tyrion’s brilliance and all your hard work and dedication, things have continued running smoothly. I owe you all my thanks!”

“It’s our duty!”
“Lord Aegor is too kind!”

...

“Alright, let’s skip the pleasantries,” Tyrion interrupted. “We’re still in expansion mode—no time to pat each other on the back. Let’s get back to work. First, let me introduce everyone. This is Reicher, the head of the first factory.”

Aegor nodded, committing the factory manager’s face to memory.

“And this is Enoch, the head of the construction crew working with the Night’s Watch.”

The general contractor? Aegor made a note of his name and appearance as well.

“It’s my first time managing a project of this scale, and we’re constantly recruiting, but it’s still not enough,” Enoch said, feigning a complaint. His barely concealed grin betrayed his true feelings. In an era where construction work was sporadic, with stonemasons, carpenters, and bricklayers idle for most of the year, having steady work and a constant income was an unheard-of luxury.

...

Tyrion continued introducing the group, and Aegor exchanged greetings with all of them. Remembering everyone was a challenge, but he did his best. Most of them lacked surnames, or if they had one, it belonged to an unknown or minor house—a good sign. This minimized the risk of meddling from major noble houses, ensuring the enterprise remained a purely commercial venture.

Once the introductions were complete, Tyrion clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s give our boss a tour of the industrial park!”

...

The fenced area was vast. Large patches of land had been leveled, and gravel roads had been laid for durability. Walking along these roads, their boots remained clean. Aegor noted directional signposts and drainage ditches on either side of the path, which connected to the Blackwater, ensuring the park wouldn’t flood even during heavy rain.

Inside the enormous first factory, hundreds of workers bustled about. Shouts and commands filled the air as raw materials were delivered by carts, fed into the production line, and passed through over a dozen steps before being turned into paper pulp. The wet sheets were then transferred to another cart for drying and cutting. Despite the limited machinery, the workers’ energy created a "thriving" atmosphere.

The paper-making process took days, but with the assembly-line system, new sheets of raw paper emerged from the end of each production line every minute.

...

This was true industrial production: hiring free workers to meet market demands through scaled operations. It was a nascent form of capitalism. However, Aegor knew this prosperity was confined to the industrial park—a fragile bubble of progress in a backward world. Outside the wooden fence, Westeros and the rest of the world remained steeped in stagnation and ignorance.

In a world of erratic seasons, a long winter could freeze this budding prosperity. The cycle of slow development, devastating collapse, and tenuous recovery had persisted for thousands of years, leaving Westerosi society with low expectations for the future and little drive for progress.

(To break this cursed cycle, society must develop rapidly during a long summer, advancing enough to withstand winter’s destruction. Only then could true progress be achieved.)

But such concerns belonged to the ruling class. For now, Aegor’s focus was survival—ensuring he could live safely and comfortably through the years to come.

...

As protocol demanded, Aegor gave a brief speech, praising the workers’ enthusiasm and teamwork. Avoiding unnecessary interference, he refrained from micromanaging, knowing that meddling from uninformed leaders only disrupted operations and morale.

The group continued through the cutting and printing workshops before moving to the employee quarters. As Aegor had guessed, the long buildings were dormitories. The living conditions were basic—wooden huts with straw mats for bedding. The dining hall consisted of large cauldrons and crude benches. Though these accommodations were no worse than those of most peasants, Aegor couldn’t help but feel that even Tyrion, with all his charm, displayed the inherent exploitative tendencies of a capitalist.

“The dorms must be weatherproof—that’s non-negotiable. When funds allow, add wooden beds to keep the workers off the ground and away from moisture and insects. Meals should be filling, nutritious, and hygienic. Eventually, set up a medical room.” Aegor directed these instructions to the head of logistics, then turned to the HR manager. “There must be wage differentiation among workers. Recognize ordinary and excellent workers, reward skilled labor with higher pay, and retain multi-skilled employees—they’re the most valuable resource.”

“Write that down!” Tyrion chimed in support.

...

After inspecting most of the park, Aegor offered encouragement: “You’ve all done an excellent job—keep it up! Now, take me to see the security team’s training and operations.”

While others assumed the guards were hired to protect the factory, Aegor and Tyrion knew the truth: Aegor was building a professional army. Making money was the team’s business, but shaping this security force was Aegor’s personal mission. This was something he would oversee directly, ensuring it grew precisely as he envisioned.