Building a Conglomerate in Another World-Chapter 162: Site Inspection and Sudden Presence of Troops

The sun hung high over the Panamanian jungle, its rays filtering through the dense canopy as Matthew Hesh and his wife, Amber, led a small group of engineers and advisors to the proposed site of the Panama Canal. Armed with maps, surveying tools, and an unshakable determination, the group moved along uneven trails, occasionally swatting at the ever-present mosquitoes.

Amber walked beside Matthew, holding a wide-brimmed hat to shield her face from the oppressive heat. Her eyes scanned the terrain, a mix of curiosity and skepticism evident in her expression.

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"So, this is where it’s all going to happen?" she asked, gesturing at the lush greenery and rolling hills around them.

Matthew nodded, stopping to adjust his map. "This is it. The proposed canal route will stretch from the Caribbean Sea over there," he pointed to the north, "to the Pacific Ocean on the other side. Once completed, ships will be able to bypass the entire southern tip of South America."

Amber glanced at the thick forest and the steep slopes that lined parts of the path. "I can’t help but wonder—why are we using locks? Couldn’t we just dig a straight canal, like they did with the Suez Canal?"

Matthew smiled, setting the map aside. "It’s a good question, and a lot of people asked the same thing when the French tried to build this canal years ago. But the terrain here is completely different from the Suez. The Suez Canal runs through flat, sandy desert. Here in Panama, we’re dealing with mountains, rivers, and a lot of rainfall."

Amber raised an eyebrow. "So the locks are necessary because of the elevation?"

"Exactly," Matthew said, gesturing to a nearby ridge. "The land between the oceans isn’t level. There’s about an 85-foot difference in elevation at the highest point. If we tried to dig a straight canal at sea level, we’d have to cut through mountains, and the constant rainfall would cause landslides. It’s just not practical."

Amber nodded, her curiosity growing. "And the locks?"

"The locks will act like water elevators," Matthew explained. "Ships will enter a lock chamber, and we’ll raise or lower the water level to move them up or down, depending on which direction they’re going. It’s a lot more efficient than trying to level the entire route."

"That makes sense," Amber said, stepping closer to inspect the uneven ground. "But it also sounds like a huge challenge. How are you going to manage all of this?"

Matthew chuckled. "That’s why we brought in the best engineers. Bellamont and Lachance have already started refining the designs, and we’ve got teams working on detailed surveys. Plus, Hesh Industries is manufacturing specialized equipment to handle the tough conditions."

As they continued their inspection, the group paused by a clearing overlooking a wide river. Bellamont, the lead engineer, knelt by the water’s edge, sketching in his notebook. "This will likely be one of the lock sites," he said, pointing to the natural contours of the land. "The river can be redirected to fill the chambers."

Amber watched as Bellamont explained the process to a group of workers, her respect for the team’s expertise growing. "It’s incredible to think how much thought and planning goes into something like this," she said to Matthew.

Matthew nodded. "It’s a massive undertaking, but it’s worth it. This canal will change the world, Amber. It’ll cut shipping times by weeks, save costs, and open up new trade routes. And it’ll bring opportunities to the people of Panama."

Amber smiled, but before she could respond, one of the advisors approached Matthew, his expression tense. "Mr. Hesh, we have a situation."

Matthew’s brow furrowed. "What kind of situation?"

The advisor pointed toward the trail they had taken earlier. "Gran Colombian soldiers. A whole patrol of them. They’ve crossed into the area, and they’re demanding to speak with whoever’s in charge."

Matthew exchanged a glance with Amber, his jaw tightening. "Where are they now?"

"They’re near the edge of the site, about half a mile back," the advisor said. "The Amerathian troops stationed here are holding them off, but it’s tense."

Amber’s expression grew concerned. "Matthew, this could escalate quickly."

"I know," Matthew said, his tone calm but firm. "Stay here with Bellamont and the others. I’ll go see what’s going on."

"I’m coming with you," Amber said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Matthew hesitated, but seeing the determination in her eyes, he nodded. "Fine. But stay close, and let me handle the talking."

The two of them, along with the advisor, hurried toward the commotion. As they approached, the sounds of raised voices became clear. A group of Gran Colombian soldiers, their uniforms dusty from the journey, stood in a tense standoff with a line of Amerathian troops. Both sides had their hands on their weapons, though no one had drawn yet.

At the center of the Gran Colombian group was a man who appeared to be their leader, his sharp features and commanding presence setting him apart. He stepped forward as Matthew approached, his eyes narrowing. "Are you the one in charge here?" he demanded in Spanish.

Matthew nodded, raising his hands in a gesture of calm. "I’m Matthew Hesh from Amerathia. And you are?"

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"Captain Alejandro Ramirez," the man replied. "And this land belongs to Gran Colombia. You have no right to be here."

Matthew kept his tone measured. "Captain Ramirez, we’re here to work with the Panamanian people to build a canal that will benefit the entire region. We’re not here to claim territory or cause trouble."

"You’re supporting a rebellion," Ramirez shot back. "That is trouble."

The tension in the air was palpable. Amerathian soldiers stood firm, their eyes locked on the Colombians. Ramirez’s men mirrored their stance, their hands inching closer to their weapons.

Amber stepped forward slightly, her voice steady but firm. "Captain, we understand your concerns, but violence won’t solve anything. Let’s find a way to discuss this without conflict."

Ramirez’s gaze flicked to Amber, his expression softening slightly before returning to Matthew.

"This is your warning, Mr. Hesh. If your Amerathian forces continue to occupy Panamanian territory, Gran Colombia will respond. You have no right to be here."

Matthew took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "Captain, I understand your position, but we’re not here to fight. Let’s take this back to our governments and let them handle it diplomatically. There’s no need for bloodshed."

Ramirez studied him for a long moment before nodding curtly. "Very well. But don’t mistake this for weakness. We’ll be watching."

With that, he signaled his men to fall back. The tension eased as the Gran Colombian soldiers disappeared into the jungle, but the message was clear: this was far from over.

Matthew turned to the Amerathian officer in charge. "Good work keeping things from escalating. Let’s stay alert. This won’t be the last time they show up."

The officer nodded. "Understood, Mr. Hesh. We’ll keep a close watch."

As Matthew and Amber walked back to the inspection site, Amber glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. "That could’ve gone very badly."

"It still might," Matthew said quietly. "This project was never going to be easy, Amber. But we’ll find a way to make it work."

She slipped her hand into his, her grip firm. "And you won’t have to do it alone."

Matthew gave her a small smile, but his thoughts remained on the challenges ahead. The Panama Canal was a project of immense promise, but it was becoming increasingly clear that the path to completion would be anything but smooth.