Chapter 92: The Intruder at the Beverage Factory
However, before Chris could decide what he wanted to do for his summer vacation, he decided to inspect the properties under his name.
Debrade Company had been registered for months now, the beverage factory had been operating for over two months, and even the gym had been open for more than two weeks.
Yet he, as the owner, had only visited once or twice and hadn't paid much attention since—which was indeed negligent.
On the second day of Chris's summer vacation, following his instincts, Chris first went to inspect his gym.
He quickly discovered that with the support of the Mighty Gym special edition dragon blood drinks, the facility was thriving, with a steady stream of members coming to work out every day.
In fact, because the efficacy of the standard version of dragon blood drinks had significantly decreased, many people were desperate to join the Iron Fist Society to obtain the gym special edition, leaving no free space in the facility.
However, the Iron Fist Society didn't accept just anyone. According to the rules Chris had initially established, if someone couldn't develop a strong physique within three months, it proved they lacked dedication, and such people couldn't join.
The requirements Chris set were straightforward, but when Marn and others implemented them, they naturally selected the cream of the crop, effectively raising the threshold even higher.
After all, with a cheat-code item like dragon blood drinks, even after being diluted, it was enough to allow ordinary people to achieve the physique of a professional athlete within three months.
So, based on Chris's basic regulations, they'd added some additional criteria.
For example, no one with obvious physical deformities, no incomplete limbs, no one who couldn't pass a basic fitness test, and so on.
As Chris was touring the gym, he happened to overhear a full member pressuring a few scrawny guys to work harder.
"What the hell are you doing? You've already passed the Iron Fist Society's preliminary selection, and you're still slacking off? Do you want the gym's dragon blood drinks or not?"
The guys who'd been resting immediately resumed exercising upon hearing this, without the slightest hint of protest.
However, the trainer still didn't let up, continuing to berate them: "You guys have no idea how lucky you are. You know, some cripple wanted to join our Iron Fist Society two days ago but got rejected?
You should know that guy was strong as hell—his upper body press hit an incredible 360 kilograms, already at the top tier of the Iron Fist Society's standards.
But even so, he couldn't join. You know why?"
Without waiting for a response, the trainer said proudly, "Because that guy's body is incomplete—he naturally doesn't qualify to join our Iron Fist Society!"
Chris listened to the man's words from a distance and felt deeply uncomfortable.
Not only because the cripple in the man's description sounded an awful lot like Joe, but also because they clearly weren't properly implementing the principles Chris had established for the Iron Fist Society.
When he'd discussed it with Marn, he'd also laid down rules about supporting those who were trying to improve themselves and treating everyone with respect.
But judging from this full member's attitude, those principles had been completely ignored!
Noticing that the organization he'd founded seemed to have drifted from its original purpose, Chris began thinking about how to correct this course before it got worse.
However, Chris didn't have a suitable replacement in mind yet, so he could only continue deliberating.
Lost in thought, Chris got into the car, and Brian quickly started the vehicle, asking, "Where to next?"
"The beverage factory. I want to check on current production."
Brian drove for a while, then, unable to suppress his curiosity, hesitated before asking, "I gotta ask, why don't you have someone else drive you around? What if somebody breaks into the factory while I'm off playing chauffeur?"
Hearing Brian's question, Chris scoffed, "You think someone can't break into the factory just because you're on duty?"
Brian's ears drooped in embarrassment—he shouldn't have asked that question.
Fortunately, Chris wasn't like other Griffins. He skipped past the topic that made Brian extremely uncomfortable and instead actually answered his question.
"I don't trust Peter, I can't ask Lois to drive me around, and Meg left on a road trip with friends last week. Besides you, who else in our family can drive?"
Brian thought about it and realized it was true, clicking his tongue and feeling that everything he'd just asked was stupid.
The white dog didn't know that Chris could run faster than a car—otherwise, this dog would definitely tell Chris to just run to inspect his property.
Of course, even if Brian really dared to suggest that, Chris could counter it.
Because what kind of boss walks to inspect his own property?
That would be completely ridiculous!
As Chris and Brian arrived at the factory, both man and dog immediately sensed that something was wrong.
As soon as they exited the car, Brian twitched his nose and then exclaimed in surprise, "Sniff, sniff—there's an unfamiliar scent in the air. Wait, why does this smell seem so familiar?"
Compared to Brian's unreliable nose, Chris, with his far more sensitive perception, already knew the identity of this uninvited guest.
Glancing curiously toward the factory interior, Chris patted Brian's head and said with exasperation, "Let's go. Your joke about someone breaking in actually came true. Fortunately, it's an acquaintance who showed up. If it were really some random thief, I'd definitely charge you with negligence."
"Uh..." Brian looked at Chris, bewildered, not understanding how he could say such shameless things so casually.
But what made Brian even more curious was—who was this acquaintance who'd broken into the factory?
Meanwhile, inside the factory, Joe, cornered by a group of robots, shouted, "Get out of my way! You tin cans, don't stop me from getting my shot at a normal life!"
However, these robots, whose defense protocols had been activated, didn't understand human pleading. They were merely steadfastly executing the factory security commands Stewie had programmed.
It was only because Joe, despite being paralyzed from the waist down, had reached peak human upper body strength under the effects of dragon blood drinks, and because these robots were also somewhat shoddy prototypes that Stewie had hastily assembled—
That's why Joe had managed to hold out for so long.
Otherwise, by the time Chris and Brian arrived, there would probably only be a wheelchair and a pile of mangled flesh to prove he'd been there.
Just as the group of robots was about to overwhelm Joe, Chris and Brian walked into the factory, and Chris immediately shut down all the robots' action commands.
Brian also spotted Joe, bruised and bloodied and backed into a corner, and immediately exclaimed, "Joe! What the hell are you doing here?"
Joe, still surprised by how the robots suddenly stopped moving, heard the familiar voices and immediately looked over, also exclaiming, "Brian? And Chris? Why are you two here?"
"This is Chris's property—why wouldn't he be here? As for you, I don't recall the factory having an employee like you." Brian followed Chris's footsteps toward the stairs, then wheeled the tilted wheelchair closer.
"What?!" Joe was shocked, then pressed urgently, "What do you mean this factory is Chris's?"
"Exactly what it sounds like."
Chris took over the conversation, then inquired about Joe's purpose for breaking in.
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