The Factory Novels & Stories

“My gut says it's either Sharon made it up, or she twisted something.” He just gave a small nod, still didn't reply. He sure didn't want to work with doubts, but evidence. “However,” Logan said, “we can go through our records of old factories to find the owner of the one you mentioned.” “We’d appreciate that.” “It’s only possible if the factory is legally registered,” he added. They searched again. Then, “Found it.” He smiled. Thank goodness. “The factory belongs to a seventy-year-old man named Douglas Hamish,” he continued, scanning the screen. “His address and contact details are here.”

"Everything’s going wrong." She sat up straighter. "What do you mean?" He exhaled sharply, dropping his phone onto the table before sitting heavily on the bed. His head dropped into his hands. "One of our factories..." he said, his voice shaking. "It burned down." Mrs Anderson’s eyes widened. "What? Which one?" "The main one," he muttered through his hands. "The one we’ve been investing in heavily this quarter." Her breath caught in her throat. That factory had been critical to their business operations. "How? Was anyone hurt?"

Minutes later, we arrive at the factory, and Arianna sighs when she looks at the facade. "Are you serious? A toy factory in the middle of the industrial zone?" she questions. "The best hiding place is the one in plain sight, cara," I reply with a hint of smugness. "The factory is just a facade; the warehouse is below. Everything is underground." She raises an eyebrow as if she were slightly surprised. "You must have a lot of important people bribed to do this." "More than you can imagine." I take her hand and kiss the back of it despite her reluctance. "New York is ours, cara. No one in their right mind would dare to mess with u

I got there and tried to unlock it, but it was hopeless, it was locked. I turned around, but it was already too late. The two men were standing in front of me, and they didn't look happy. "You will regret trying to escape" one of them said before knocking me out. SARAH'S POV. I hurried into the old factory to meet up with Gray. The factory once belonged to us before shutting down due to low sales. It was located in the deserted part of town. Only a few people come here and not very often. I didn't think it was possible for Gray to find Naomi's new address and in a very short period of time, I was quite impressed.

On the outskirts of Yondere City in the north, a newly completed steel-structured factory was held. The patriarch of the Jentsch family, Harper, personally inspected each production line, watching with great satisfaction as the Northern Beauty products were continuously produced. His face bore a proud smile. Fortune favors the bold!

"In fact, yes. Don’t tell anyone what you just said, okay? Tell me more about that factory." "Okay. Last year, another factory was bought up beside his. He heard the landlord talking about it. But the factory always operated at night, where more workers would come. They’re like, making food or something. They have more guards patrolling the factory than the others. Then every month or so, there’s this black car sneakily driving into the factory. I caught sight of it one time but nah, I didn’t mind. None of my business anyway." "Do you have a photo of the plate number?"

(Ma Fu Sheng) “Hmm~..bye..” Ma Fu Sheng was a fat Chinese man, in his 40’s, if one looked at him, the first impression they get is that he was country bumpkin, the way he dressed with his oversized suits, his thick Chinese English accent and also his male pattern baldness. But he has a bright character and also tend to sometimes acted like a foolish person. But that just the way he is, he is the owner of Ma Food Factory, a large food processing factory that specializes, in instant food, canned goods, repackages spice and condiments, everything that is related to food, Ma Food Factory was the man to find. Ma Fu Sheng were actually the owner of this company, and his company, were located in th

Now, Lindsay was inside that very factory. They had no intel on the exact situation. All they knew was that the situation was dangerous. With all sorts of complicated thoughts rushing inside their heads, they arrived within half an hour. The tires screeched to a halt as the sports car stopped outside the factory. This factory had once been used to produce auto parts. The owner ran away and most of the things inside the factory had been taken by the workers. A long period of desolation made the factory look even more dilapidated.

McCullen Confectionary was an enormous, towering building—so vast that even after a couple of weeks on the job, its scale remained unfathomable. The factory’s conveyor belts extended far beyond what the eyes could see, flanked by expositors, extruders and enrobing machines. The hissing and clanking of the machinery were so loud it was impossible to hear clearly. Tens of thousands of workers moved in precise choreography around me, going about their duties. Gummies, candies, pastries, cakes, chocolates and cupcakes in every imaginable form streamed past me in gleaming trays. The aroma of sugar and cocoa hung heavily in the air, overwhelming my senses, I could n

It had previously been a pharmaceutical plant. The factory was quite large, not far from the village entrance. Most of West Ridge's residents worked there, including the Wesler’s son.