Warranty, service, technicians, spare parts and AMC — for every unit you have ever sold, from the day it is commissioned to the day it is replaced.
No signup. Sign in as an owner, a dispatcher, a technician or a customer in one tap.
The unit goes on the register with a profile of its own: serial, site, who bought it, and a six-character code printed on its label.
Scan that code three years later and you get the whole record — no login, because the person standing at the machine is often not the person who bought it.
A machine that sat in a warehouse for three months did not spend three months of its warranty there. Tracked to the day, so your desk never looks it up and never gets it wrong.
Meter readings come in from whoever is standing next to it. Two of them and the engine stops guessing: the usage rate is measured, not assumed.
Hours against service intervals, not a calendar. A pump doing fourteen hours a day is due months before one doing two — and the engine says which, and why.
“Has run about 1,330 h since the last service — past the 1,000 h interval (14 h/day, measured over 540 days).” Every prediction arrives with the sentence that produced it.
Ranked on skill, distance and how much they are already carrying — and the reasoning is shown, so your desk can disagree with it.
The store saw it coming thirty days ago. One visit instead of two, which is the whole of after-sales economics.
Nudges at forty-five and fifteen days, with the reason written in. And a standing list of every machine out of warranty with no cover at all.
That list is revenue on the table and an argument waiting to happen — the first thing that breaks is otherwise a surprise invoice.
When repairs pass a share of a new unit's price, or a machine keeps failing past its design life, you get told — with the arithmetic.
“Repairs have cost 62% of a new unit's price, with 5 breakdowns in the last 12 months.” The old machine's record stays, which is what makes the next one's policy better.
Scroll
Age across, condition up, hours a day deep. The one view that shows what a struggling cluster has in common — and the reason a table cannot: it sorts one column at a time, and the variable that explains the problem is usually the third one.
Most companies that sell machines have a CRM for winning the order and nothing at all for the ten years afterwards. The warranty is in a spreadsheet, the service history is in a technician's head, and the AMC gets renewed when somebody happens to remember.
Not a dashboard somebody checks monthly — the thing your service desk, your technicians and your customers each touch every day.
One record per unit you sell, with a code on its label. Scan it on site and the whole history is there.
From commissioning, not from the invoice. Your desk never looks it up and never gets it wrong.
Hour meters against service intervals, with the usage rate fitted from real readings — and labelled when it is not.
Wear parts have lives. The store sees what the whole fleet will need in thirty days.
A message to your own number becomes a job on the right machine. Unknown numbers wait for a human rather than guessing.
Skill, distance, current load — and the reasoning shown, so the desk overrides it knowingly rather than blindly.
Contracts to the day, nudges ahead of expiry, and a list of every machine with no cover at all.
When repairs pass a share of a new unit's price, you hear it before the customer does.
Four to an A4 page, at an error-correction level that survives three years on a roof.
Paste it. See exactly what would happen, row by row, before anything is written.
If you sell a physical product and your after-sales is a spreadsheet and a WhatsApp group, this is for you. You do not need a service network like LG — you need the software one would run on.
Nothing leaves the box. Every date it produces is your product's own service policy applied to that unit's own history — and every one comes with the sentence that produced it, because a prediction nobody can explain is a prediction nobody acts on.
Your whole team should be in it — the desk, the store, every technician, and your customers. Charging per login is how after-sales software ends up used by one person.
There is also a share of service and AMC transactions where it makes sense — we would rather earn when your after-sales earns.
Happy to walk you through it, move your existing machine list across, or just answer questions.