I Have An SSS-Rank Service System: Hire Me For Anything!-Chapter 30: Nine Hundred Ingots On The Sixth Day

By the sixth day, the forge no longer felt like the same place.

It was louder, hotter, and far more organized. The scattered tools from the first day were now arranged in fixed positions. Buckets of water stood where they were needed, tongs were placed within arm’s reach of the anvil, and coal was stacked close enough that no one had to leave their station for long. The fire never went out anymore. It burned day and night, steady and controlled.

Nine hundred iron ingots.

They were stacked along the far wall in neat rows, each one shaped cleanly, each one consistent. The pile had grown so large that it took up almost half the space in the forge. On the first day, even making ten had felt like work. Now, they moved through dozens like it was routine.

It hadn’t been easy.

The first two days had been messy. Everyone was slow, unsure of where to stand, when to move, and what to do. Horg had done most of the work himself, while the others only tried to keep up. Mistakes were common. Metal slipped. Timing was off. Heat was wasted.

By the third day, things began to change.

Dory had tightened everything.

No one moved without a reason. No one spoke unless it was necessary. Every step had a purpose. The girls were no longer just helping; they had become part of the process. Two of them stayed close to Horg at all times, guiding the heated metal from the furnace to the anvil without delay. The others handled everything else—coal, water, tools—making sure nothing slowed the rhythm.

Horg no longer stepped away from the anvil.

That alone changed everything.

The hammer never stopped for long. The moment one piece was done, another was already in place. The sound of metal being struck became constant, steady, almost predictable.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

By the fourth day, the rhythm had settled.

They rotated in shifts. Two worked, two rested, one assisted where needed. Liam moved between them, carrying materials, adjusting tools, and stepping in whenever someone slowed down. He complained less now. Not because it was easier, but because he understood his role.

"...If I stop, everything slows," he muttered once.

"And we don’t stop," Maya replied.

The snack production had followed the same path.

At first, it took them hours just to make a few trays. Slices were uneven. Salt was either too much or too little. Some batches had to be thrown away.

Dory corrected everything.

"Even slices."

"Rinse properly."

"Don’t rush the honey."

By the third day, they stopped guessing.

Dano, Lila, and Lisa handled preparation. Their hands moved faster now, slicing plums into uniform pieces without hesitation. They knew how much salt to use, how long to leave it, and how to rinse it clean without wasting time.

Maya and Lola worked the heat.

They stood near the hearth, handling the honey and lemon mixtures with care. Too much heat ruined the taste. Too little made it useless. They learned the balance through repetition, not guesswork.

"...It’s ready," Lola would say.

And she was always right.

Dory moved between both sides, adjusting small things. He didn’t do most of the work himself anymore. He watched, corrected, and improved the flow.

’...They’ve learned...’

The biggest change came at night. They stopped treating it as rest.

After dinner, no one left. They stayed in the kitchen and worked through another batch. It was slower than during the day, but it added up. One batch each night turned into five extra batches across the week.

Fifteen times.

That was how many times the snacks had sold out in six days.

Every morning, Liam carried trays to the five shops. Every afternoon, he returned with empty ones.

"They’re asking for more," he reported daily.

"Of course they are," Maya said once, without even looking up.

The shop owners—the girls’ parents—had stopped questioning it. At first, they were unsure. The colors were strange. The taste was new. But after the first few sell-outs, they didn’t argue anymore.

They made space.

They waited for deliveries.

Some even started asking Liam when the next batch would arrive.

"...You’re late today," one of them had said.

"I’m not late," Liam replied.

"You are to us."

Demand rose faster than expected. Some villagers came earlier than usual, hoping to get a share before it ran out. Others tried to buy more than one portion.

"Limit them," Dory had said.

"Why?" Liam asked.

"So everyone gets a taste."

There were no complaints from the team, but the strain showed. Dark circles under their eyes. They were tired.

But they didn’t stop.

Now, on the sixth day, everything had become routine. Not easy but controlled.

The forge ran without wasted movement. The snacks were produced without failed batches. Liam delivered without delay.

It worked.

Dory stood in the forge, looking at the stacked ingots.

’...Nine hundred...’

He adjusted his glasses.

’...We did this without the system...’

For the past six days, he hadn’t relied on it much. The skills helped, but they weren’t the reason for this result. People were the reason — Horg’s experience, the girls’ effort and Liam’s consistency.

He had only guided it.

’...If I want true mastery... I still need the higher packages...’

He exhaled quietly.

’...But this works for now...’

Behind him, Liam dropped another empty tray.

"...All sold again."

Dory didn’t turn.

"I expected that."

Horg sat down heavily on the stool.

"...Nine hundred," he said.

Maya leaned against the wall.

"Only a hundred left."

Lola crossed her arms.

"That sounds easy when you say it like that."

Dano shook her head.

"It doesn’t feel easy."

Lila stretched her fingers.

"It really doesn’t."

Lisa looked at the stack.

"...But we’re close."

Dory finally turned to face them.

"Yes," he said.

"Very close."

There was a short silence.

Everyone looked at the ingots. Nine hundred. So much work. So much time. But not finished.

Dory’s expression didn’t change.

’...The last stretch is always the hardest...’

He glanced at the furnace.

"We rest for a short while," he said. "Then we finish it tomorrow."

Liam let out a breath.

"...Finally."

Maya shook her head.

"Don’t relax yet."

Horg grunted.

"She’s right."

Lola looked at Dory.

"What’s the plan for tomorrow?"

Dory answered without hesitation.

"We don’t slow down."

The room went quiet again. No one argued. They already knew the seventh day would decide everything.

And they still had one hundred ingots left.