Tie Kuang read the agreement for three hours. He objected to twelve clauses and changed his mind about seven when Kang showed him the actual costs.
He did not call Austin master. He did not kneel.
He signed after Austin personally guaranteed the miners’ back pay from the first repair revenues.
Five hundred and thirty-two workers chose to stay for the rebuilding term. Their names went into a payroll book, not a surrender list. Each received a yellow hard hat, an orange vest, and a written schedule. Tie got one too, and he wore it everywhere. Those who wanted to return home would travel after the injured could move.
Austin addressed them on Floor 1.
“You will repair the wall, dismantle the Colossus, and help build safe work areas. You will be paid. If a foreman orders you past a red tag or under an unsafe load, refuse. Bring it to me, Kang, or Xiaoyao.”
Tie stood at the back with his arm in a sling. “I am still Grand Elder of the Iron Pavilion.”
“Yes,” Austin said. “Here, you are a trainee with a sling.”
Several miners laughed before they could stop themselves. Tie glared, but there was no force behind it.
His first tasks were inspection and planning. Austin would not let him lift anything heavy. Tie complained that paperwork was beneath him until he found three errors in Kang’s material estimate. After that, he guarded the clipboard like a fortress.
The miners rebuilt the breached wall with hand tools and structural mortar. Austin’s rule: flat to within a tenth of an inch. Any gap wider than a human hair, and the wall comes down. The twelve disabled golems were moved into a repair bay. Their blood-powered cores would be removed before anyone used them again.
Kang signed a revised production contract. It kept the seven-day water test, the scrap sales cap, and fair supply volumes. It also created a path for small smiths to buy metal without competing in auctions.
Gu Qing arrived with six elders and drawn swords, ready for a battle. He found Tie Kuang sitting at a desk, arguing over overtime rates.
“Double pay after ten hours is robbery,” Tie said.
“You threatened to take their houses yesterday,” Austin replied.
Tie dipped his pen. “Double pay after twelve.”
“Ten.”
“Ten and a half.”
Austin waited.
“Ten,” Tie muttered.
Gu Qing lowered his sword. “Should we come back later?”
“Bring tea,” Kang said. “This may take longer than the siege.”
By evening, the payroll was funded and the first repair shift had gone home on time. Tie remained proud, suspicious, and difficult. He also corrected a miner who tried to climb a ladder with one hand.
“Three points of contact. Are you trying to make more paperwork?”
Austin heard him and gave Xiaoyao a small nod.
Reform would take longer than a wrench tap. At least it had started with wages, safe rules, and a signed line that Tie could not ignore.