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I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 168
🕑 Added 2025-04-22 17:08:01 +0000 UTCChapter 168: Is This Really a Wise Choice?
The 19th district of Paris was known to the public as a symbol of "poverty" and "chaos."
The sky here was always overcast, filled with smoke drifting in from unknown sources, and the air carried an unidentifiable foul stench. The only consolation was that these odors constantly shifted, sometimes even carrying a faint fragrance, making those who lived here deeply experience what it meant to have a "multifaceted life."
The church bells, the sound of rain, and the noisy market downstairs seeped into Kobdo's disorganized single room. Waking up from the noise, he rolled over and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall: it was 10 AM.
After a brief pause, he remembered that he had already quit his job and flopped back onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
Normally, at this time, he would be running around somewhere chasing after hot topics, but now, all he could do was wait for the phone to ring.
There was a knock at the door. Kobdo turned his head slightly and immediately decided to pretend he wasn’t home. He guessed that it was Mrs. Cloé coming to collect the rent.
After knocking for a while with no response, Mrs. Cloé shouted loudly from outside: "I know you're inside, Kobdo! If you don't pay the rent soon, I'll have no choice but to ask you to move out!"
After a brief pause, she added emphatically, "I’m giving you three days!"
Kobdo closed his eyes helplessly and pulled the blanket over his head.
As a journalist, he shouldn't have fallen into such a desperate state. After all, journalists had a base salary of 25 francs, and if their articles were published, they could earn additional rewards. If he were lucky, he could make 45 francs a month, which was quite a decent amount.
However, living in this polluted, sewage-filled area came at a price. His eight-year-old son had developed asthma and needed long-term medication and treatment. To escape the bad air, he had to send his wife and child back to the countryside.
Thus, all the burdens fell solely on Kobdo’s shoulders.
Living expenses, medical bills, rent, utility bills… every month, it felt like a nightmare that would cycle endlessly.
Yet, he had quit his job!
Was this truly a wise decision? Or was it an impulsive act that would drag his family into the abyss?
The phone rang, and Kobdo suddenly jerked the blanket off and jumped up as if pricked by a needle. He rushed to the phone.
Just as he was about to pick up the receiver, he quickly withdrew his hand, nervously wiped his face to clear his mind, and cautiously picked up the phone.
Disappointment immediately crept onto his face—it was Mrs. Cloé again. This time, she had found a more effective way to "harass" him.
After hanging up the phone, Kobdo slumped back down, staring blankly for a while. Suddenly, he bowed his head and began to cry.
He had endured so much helplessness and stubbornly held on, yet nothing had improved. Instead, everything had gotten worse. What was he supposed to do?
The phone rang again. Annoyed, Kobdo picked up the receiver and said, "I know, Mrs. Cloé, you win. I’ll move out tomorrow…"
"Move out?" A crisp, somewhat childish male voice came from the other end of the line.
Kobdo's eyes instantly brightened. "Mr. Charles?"
After a brief pause, Kobdo quickly changed his tone. "No, no, my apologies, Mr. Charles. I thought... it was someone else. But that doesn't matter..."
"I have a question for you, Mr. Kobdo," Charles continued, unaffected. "The suggestion I made last time seems to have encountered some unexpected issues!"
Kobdo's heart sank again. Though he still held the receiver, his head was so heavy that he had to support it with his hand.
"I believe what we’re starting isn’t just any ordinary newspaper!" Charles' calm voice came through the receiver. "We’re starting a military newspaper. I’m not sure if you’re interested?"
Kobdo suddenly sat up straight, his eyes regaining their energy. He replied excitedly, "Of course... Mr. Charles, are you sure? You really want to start a military newspaper?"
As a military columnist, Kobdo knew the significance of a military newspaper. Its status was unparalleled, especially in these war times.
The reason France still didn't have a military newspaper was that small and medium capitalists didn’t have the financial power or qualifications, while the larger capitalists didn’t see much need for one, as they could control the army through parliament and equipment.
Charles had the financial power, military background, popularity, and prestige. He also had significant influence within the military, so starting a military newspaper was a great opportunity!
"Of course!" Charles confirmed over the phone. "However, there’s one more issue. If it’s a military newspaper, we might have to send you a draft order. If you have any objections..."
"No, no, Mr. Charles!" Kobdo immediately agreed. "I have no objections. I would be honored!"
This was the truth. Kobdo knew that if he didn’t accept, he would eventually receive a draft order and end up as an ordinary infantryman with a rifle on the battlefield.
By accepting, however, he would be treated very differently. Only a fool would refuse!
As expected, Charles continued, "If that’s the case, then it’s settled! You’ll be in charge of this, and you’ll become a second lieutenant, receiving a 60-franc allowance. Additionally, I’ll pay you 40 francs a month as the editor-in-chief’s salary, with additional rewards for published articles. If that’s all right, you can report to the City Defense Headquarters tomorrow..."
"I’ll report in this afternoon, sir!" Kobdo’s eyes widened. "Is that okay?"
"Of course, sir!" Charles replied. "We have urgent matters, the sooner, the better!"
After hanging up, Kobdo leaped up with excitement. He twisted around a few times in a nervous release and quickly grabbed the phone again.
"Please connect me to Mobywick town, Mr. Gratton. Yes, thank you!"
"Mr. Gratton, could you please call Elisa for me? Thank you very much!"
Gratton was the town’s doctor. He was one of the few people in Mobywick who had a phone. He was helpful and lived nearby, so whenever Kobdo needed to contact his wife urgently, he relied on him.
Before long, Elisa’s worried voice came through the phone. "It’s me, Kobdo. Are you all right?"
"I’m fine, Elisa!" Kobdo replied excitedly. "Do you know Charles?"
"Yes, I’ve heard many things about him. He’s a hero of France."
"Do you believe it?" Kobdo’s voice trembled. "I’m going to work for him!"
"Really? That’s great! Are you going to become his reporter?"
"No, no!" Kobdo’s eyes reddened with excitement. "I’m the editor-in-chief, Elisa! I’m Charles’ editor-in-chief!"
"Editor-in-chief? What’s that?"
"The head of the newspaper!" Kobdo explained. "I’ll have many reporters under me. I’ll be responsible for everything, and I’ll receive a base salary of 100 francs..."
"100 francs!" Elisa exclaimed. "Did I hear that right? Is that monthly?"
"Of course!" Kobdo nodded excitedly. "You heard correctly. Everything will get better, Elisa! I’ll bring you both to Paris soon. We should… find a place in the 15th district. Jeremy will get better!"
There was a sudden silence on the other end, followed by the faint sound of sobbing. Kobdo couldn’t control the tears in his eyes either.
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