Part 25
The Vanguard distribution center in Seattle was a sprawling, deafeningly loud concrete beast of a building.
It spanned millions of square feet, filled with towering metal racks, roaring forklifts, and exhausted workers moving at frantic speeds.
Marcus walked through the heavily guarded front gates with terrifying ease, thanks to Aegis spoofing his credentials as a senior health inspector.
He wore a simple hard hat and a high-visibility vest, blending into the chaos of the warehouse floor.
The reality of the situation was far worse than the data had shown on his pristine screens back home.
The air was thick with exhaust fumes, the temperature was sweltering, and the workers looked like ghosts running on pure adrenaline and fear.
He watched a woman, no older than thirty, struggling to lift a heavy crate onto a moving conveyor belt.
Her hands were shaking, and her face was pale, glistening with unhealthy sweat.
Suddenly, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the concrete floor, the heavy crate crashing down inches from her head.
Before Marcus could reach her, a floor manager with a red clipboard stormed over, looking furious rather than concerned.
"Get up, Sarah! You're holding up line four!" the manager screamed, not even checking to see if she was injured.
"If you don't get that box on the belt in ten seconds, you can walk out the door and never come back!"
The woman tried to push herself up, tears streaming down her face, apologizing profusely through gasps of air.
Marcus felt a cold, familiar rage ignite in his chest.
He stepped forward, placing a firm, immovable hand on the manager’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
"She's not getting up," Marcus said, his voice cutting through the industrial noise like a blade.
"And who the hell are you?" the manager snarled, turning around to face him.
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Marcus slowly took off his hard hat, his piercing eyes locking onto the manager with the intensity of a predator.
"I'm the man who just bought the building," Marcus said coldly. "And you are fired."
