The celebrations faded quickly into routine, though nothing about AquaPure felt routine anymore.
Shipments doubled overnight. Relief groups and NGOs called daily, desperate for deliveries. Boxes piled high against patched warehouse walls, while workers raced to keep up. Rosa barked orders with the energy of a foreman, Jericho handled wiring like a soldier on a battlefield, and Maria's desk became a fortress of contracts and schedules.
But Rafael knew this wasn't sustainable. HydraCorp's shadow had been beaten back, yet the Codex's cold analysis never let him forget the truth:
> "Warning: Current structure inadequate for sustained growth. Failure probability within six months: 67%. Recommendation: expand logistics, professionalize workforce, acquire high-value innovators."
He sat at his desk, running a hand over the piles of invoices and shipping manifests. The glow of the Codex's projections lit his tired eyes, but to anyone who entered, it looked like Rafael was simply studying figures with uncanny focus.
Maria stormed in one morning, dropping another folder onto his desk. "Boss, this is madness. We don't even have proper supply chains. Bong's tricycle isn't going to haul shipments to Iloilo. We need trucks, warehouses, actual drivers."
Rafael glanced at her, calm. "Then we'll get them."
Maria blinked. "Just like that? You think trucks grow on trees?"
"I don't need trees. I need people," he said simply. "We'll build our own logistics arm."
---
That afternoon, Rafael called his core workers together. They gathered under the banner that now hung proudly across the warehouse wall.
"We beat HydraCorp because we adapted," he began. "Now we have to do it again. No more patchwork solutions. We're building something bigger."
Jericho scratched his head. "Bigger how? Like, bigger warehouse?"
"Bigger everything," Rafael replied. "Distribution. Security. Skilled minds to push us forward." His gaze swept the room, his voice steady. "HydraCorp thought we were lucky. Let's prove we're inevitable."
A hush fell over the team. Even Rosa, usually quick with jokes, stayed quiet. They all felt it—that shift from survival to strategy.
---
That night, Rafael walked the streets of Manila alone, blending with the crowd. Neon lights reflected in puddles, vendors shouted over traffic, and jeepneys rattled past in a blur of color. But the Codex painted the city differently: glowing overlays marking hotspots of untapped skill.
> "Target profile: Lea Santos, mechanical aptitude. Location: Tondo, jeepney repair bay.
Target profile: Carlo Mendoza, resourceful tinkerer. Location: Quezon City internet café.
Additional profiles available upon request."
Rafael's lips curled faintly. To everyone else, he'd look like a man with uncanny intuition, stumbling across hidden gems by sheer luck. Only he and the Codex knew better.
He whispered to himself as he turned back toward the warehouse, "Time to start hunting sparks."
The Codex pulsed softly in his vision:
> "Recruitment protocol activated. Probability of empire resilience: increasing."
And so, with HydraCorp's ashes still warm, Rafael set his eyes on the next battlefield—not in courts or alleys, but in the overlooked hearts and hands of people no one else believed in.