The manager stammered, his lips trembling: “Who… Who are you?” The Governor didn’t even look at him; her voice rang through the hall like a gavel: “This is Mr. Elias. You are standing in his building, drinking his wine, and breathing the air he allows you to breathe!”
The room erupted in whispers. Elias—the name behind the energy conglomerate that holds the lifeblood of the entire continent. The most powerful man in the world, who had never appeared in the media, was standing there… in a dirty, grease-stained electrician’s uniform. The manager collapsed, his legs giving out: “I… I didn’t know. I was just trying to protect the order of the party. Please, Sir…”
Elias stepped closer, calmly wiping a streak of oil from his hand onto the manager’s expensive silk tie. He smiled coldly: “Order? Is your order kicking the hands of the man who built the very foundation of this building?” Just then, a stout middle-aged man, the official host of the gala, rushed over. The manager grabbed his leg like a lifeline: “Director, save me! I was only following your orders not to let any ‘low-lifes’ in!” The Director looked at Elias, then at the manager, and suddenly delivered a thunderous slap to the manager’s face: “You fool! Who is a low-life? This is my father!”
The hall went silent. Elias looked at his son, his eyes devoid of any affection: “I gave you everything to see how you would treat people. And this is how you lead?” He turned to the Governor: “The city redevelopment contract my son is so desperate for… cancel it immediately. Give it to the union of the electricians working outside.” The son screamed: “Father! You can’t do this! I am your only heir!”
Elias didn’t answer. He pulled a small recorder from his pocket and pressed play. Through the speakers came the son’s voice whispering to the manager: “Just kick that old electrician out. He knows too much about the underground security system. Once he’s done fixing it, make sure he ‘disappears’ forever.” It turned out Elias wasn’t just disguised to test kindness; he was confirming an assassination plot against him by his own son.
Police swarmed the hall instantly. The manager and the son were led away in handcuffs as the guests watched in shock. Elias slowly took off his worn yellow hard hat. He walked toward a young waiter, the only person who had secretly handed him a bottle of water while he was kneeling on the floor. Elias placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder: “Young man, do you know how to fix wiring?” The boy trembled: “I… I’m studying at trade school at night, sir.”
Elias smiled, the kindness returning to his eyes: “Good. Starting tomorrow, you are the new manager of this building. Remember one thing: never despise the man with a screwdriver, for it is they who keep the lights of this world from going out.”
