But the work was supervised by the already retired level-nine fitter Old Clark, so they couldn’t voice any doubts, only screaming in their hearts, How is this possible?

“Let’s measure it!” Old Man Clark pointed at the box on the table and walked over to sit on a nearby chair.

Not only were Director Thompson and Manager Foster utterly shocked, even Old Clark himself felt a lingering fear at this moment.

That fat guy Henry Grant moved way too fast, and it wasn’t even the kind of careful finishing work. His fundamentals were solid, but he was way too bold with his hands, making even Old Clark break out in a cold sweat.

With only a 0.01mm machining allowance left, when Old Clark came over, he thought the fat guy was still carefully measuring each dimension and comparing it to the drawings. But as soon as he walked in, he saw the fat guy had already clamped the semi-finished crankshaft in place, holding the finest diamond file, and started filing directly on the outer circle of the connecting rod’s small end hole.

Old Clark almost cried out in shock, but he knew that the biggest fear during hand-finishing was being distracted by outside factors, so he forced himself to hold it in. He waited until the fat guy finished that stroke before speaking up.

“What are you doing?” Old Clark closed the small room’s door and then angrily questioned Henry Grant.

“Machining the crankshaft!” Henry Grant looked innocently at the furious Old Man Clark: “Isn’t this the job you asked me to do? And I have to say, your tools are amazing, way more precise than those outside.”

“Who does it like this?” Old Clark was furious, unleashing a tirade at Henry Grant: “Do you even know how much machining allowance is left? And you’re using a file? There’s only enough allowance for fine grinding! I must have been blind yesterday!”

“Oh, come on!” The fat guy wasn’t about to put up with Old Man Clark’s old-timer attitude: “It’s just a 0.01mm machining allowance, what’s the big deal? Why do you care if I finish it with grinding or with a file? Here, measure it!”

As he spoke, the fat guy grabbed a micrometer from the toolbox and tossed it to Old Man Clark. Seriously, making me work and still nagging nonstop—what’s his problem? If it weren’t for the fact that everyone in the fitter’s workshop treated Old Man Clark with such respect, Henry Grant wouldn’t put up with this at all.

Of course Old Clark had to measure it. If the fat guy didn’t know what he was doing, a diamond file wouldn’t care about hardness—one stroke could easily take off 0.03mm, and the crankshaft would be ruined.

But after measuring several times at different spots where the fat guy had filed, the micrometer reading was exactly the same every time: 30.010 millimeters, not a hair off. If he filed off another 0.01mm on the other side, it would be exactly the 30mm diameter marked on the drawing.

In other words, the fat guy’s single stroke took off exactly 0.01mm—no more, no less. That feel, that level of control, was simply miraculous!

Even at his own peak, Old Clark wouldn’t dare claim he could file off exactly 0.01mm in a single stroke. He would have to carefully divide it into several passes, filing off a tiny bit at a time, measuring precisely after each stroke and averaging the results before continuing. Who could do it like the fat guy, making it look so effortless?

After the fat guy did it again at another spot and nailed it, Old Clark measured several more times. Once he was sure the fat guy’s hand was steady beyond belief and his precision was jaw-dropping, Old Clark was convinced he’d found a real treasure.

After three times, Old Clark stopped measuring after every stroke and just watched as the fat guy, following the sequence, filed away at the crankshaft—a part that normally required a high-precision CNC machine for the final finishing—bit by bit, until it was the right size.

The fat guy knew exactly what he was doing, both with his hands and in his mind. Flat surfaces were easy enough—just file them precisely. But the inner and outer diameters of the big and small holes in the connecting rod were round, which made them much harder to work on. Yet even so, the fat guy followed the arc and got it right in one go.

This wasn’t just mastery—it was skill bordering on the divine, craftsmanship of the highest order. Old Clark didn’t even know how to describe the fat guy’s technique. Even though he was a level-nine fitter, he wouldn’t dare say he could match the fat guy in this area.

The only thing he had over the fat guy was the wealth of experience he’d accumulated over decades. Now that he saw the fat guy’s miraculous skill, Old Clark wished he could pour everything he knew into him right away.

So, while the fat guy worked, Old Clark stood by and told him all the things to watch out for, the techniques, the ways to handle every corner and curved surface, stuffing all this knowledge into the fat guy’s head as if by osmosis.

Henry Grant’s fundamentals were solid, so the two of them worked together with ease. There was none of the tense caution outsiders might imagine. Instead, they chatted as Henry Grant worked, learning and doing at the same time, relaxed and comfortable.

During their conversation, Old Clark learned Henry Grant’s name and why he’d come to the fitter’s workshop.

Henry Grant also realized that Old Clark was truly a master. The things he’d learned from his own father, Old Clark had even more ingenious, reliable, and creative ways to achieve. It was like a treasure trove— even if Henry Grant might not work on the front lines of manufacturing in the future, this valuable experience was exactly what he’d dreamed of.

The two chatted easily, and before they knew it, the filing and subsequent hand-finishing were done. At the end, the fat guy quickly polished the part, and without wasting any more time, they took it straight back to the office.