Axel
patreon
I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 80
🕑 Added 2025-02-28 18:10:00 +0000 UTCChapter 80: His Majesty the King
Gallieni didn’t realize Charles was missing until night had fallen.
The entire day, he had been scrambling to organize reinforcements for Antwerp.
At that time, the French army was pursuing the Germans along the entire front. The regular army was on the battlefield, leaving behind only newly trained or still-in-training recruits. Sending these troops to reinforce Antwerp would be meaningless.
Thus, Gallieni had to comb through the entire front line, trying to find units he could pull away without jeopardizing the current battlefield advantage.
This task required the utmost caution. The Germans were no joke—if he wasn’t careful, they might launch a counterattack.
After finally managing to free up a division, Gallieni then had to plan their route. This was equally challenging: they had to move on foot, by car, then by train, and finally travel by sea to bypass German lines to reach Antwerp. This also required coordinating with the navy for protection.
Next came the issue of logistics and supplies. The Belgian army used German rifles, which meant the French reinforcements had to provide their own ammunition.
After a grueling day of planning, things were finally on track. Gallieni stretched and walked over to the window. His gaze fell on the Gilbert du Motier statue in the garden, which stood as if on guard under the streetlamp.
Gallieni turned his stiff neck and suddenly recalled the sight of Charles practicing his military posture in front of the statue. He asked, “Where’s Charles?”
Everyone around him froze; they hadn’t seen Charles in a while either.
Someone checked the records and replied, “General, Charles has been sent to Antwerp to investigate the situation!”
Gallieni whipped around as if pricked by a needle. “What? Who sent him there?”
“Colonel Durand!” A staff officer checked the records. “It seems you assigned him to the task!”
Gallieni vaguely remembered something like that. He must have delegated the authority to Durand while preoccupied with other matters. But… didn’t Durand know how dangerous Antwerp was? Who would send Charles to such a place? What was that man thinking?!
“Send a telegram to Antwerp immediately!” Gallieni ordered. “Tell them to send Charles back!”
“Yes, General!”
The staff officer was about to leave when Gallieni stopped him. “Don’t mention Charles by name. Say it’s the junior staff officer. The Germans must not know Charles is in Antwerp!”
“Yes, General!”
Then Gallieni roared furiously, “Where is Durand? Find him and bring him to me immediately!”
No one responded. No one knew where Durand was.
A chill ran down Gallieni’s spine. He realized this might not be a simple oversight but a conspiracy—a plot against Charles.
Durand might already have met with a “traffic accident” or some other mishap, leaving no witnesses.
As things stood, Charles had been sent on Gallieni’s orders, and all the paperwork was in order. If anything happened to Charles, it would be Gallieni’s responsibility. The capitalists could take this opportunity to bring down both him and Charles in one fell swoop.
These scoundrels! Playing tricks right under his nose!
Gallieni felt deeply humiliated. But more than that, he was worried about Charles’s safety.
Hang in there, kid!
I’ll get you out of this!
...
In the fortress of Antwerp, Charles was alone in the records room, poring over documents.
Investigative work wasn’t just a matter of asking about casualty numbers. It also required understanding the fortress’s defenses and troop deployments so that reinforcements wouldn’t arrive like headless flies, not knowing where to go or what to do.
At all times, the military must have a basic grasp of its surroundings—anything less could mean death.
Charles had nearly completed his task. He stood up, stretched his back to relax, and took some bread from his bag.
He hadn’t eaten all day—not because of work, but because he found the hard, dry bread unappetizing. At home, Camille forced him to eat. But on his own, he’d only eat a few bites when he was absolutely starving.
Chewing on the bread, Charles walked to the window. The sky was pitch black. He wondered if airplanes of this era could fly at night.
Given the urgency of reinforcing Antwerp, Charles planned to visit the airfield later. Hopefully, the pilots wouldn’t be too drunk to function.
While he was thinking, a sudden rush of footsteps echoed outside the door. It sounded like a group of people had arrived.
“Bang!” The door was kicked open.
Bread in hand, Charles stared blankly as General Winter and General Gillis entered. Outside, there seemed to be many armed guards.
“Charles?” General Gillis asked, glaring at him. “Are you Charles? Charles Bernard?”
Charles nodded, puzzled. “What’s going on?”
Winter and Gillis were silent for a long moment, standing frozen in place, unable to speak.
After what felt like an eternity, General Winter finally broke into a smile. “The whole world is looking for you, Charles! And here you are, hiding right under our noses!”
...
Charles finally had the chance to enter General Gillis’s operations office.
This had previously been off-limits to him. In the records room, Charles would spend hours searching for information that could be gleaned here with just a glance at the telegraphs.
The thought made Charles a bit frustrated—he could have saved so much time if they’d brought him here earlier. Now, it seemed redundant.
Seeing Charles still chewing on hard bread, General Gillis hurriedly ordered someone to bring milk, cake, and a small plate of fruit.
Despite Antwerp’s tight supplies under German siege, this much food was manageable.
While Charles ate, General Gillis pulled General Winter aside and whispered, “Have you considered a possibility...”
Winter immediately understood what Gillis was implying. He firmly rejected it. “No, General, you can’t do that!”
“Why not?” Gillis countered. “He alone could save all our lives, including the king’s!”
Winter now realized the gravity of the situation. Gillis faced a choice: the lives of everyone in Antwerp and the entire city, or Charles.
From Gillis’s perspective, the answer was obvious. Charles was unrelated to him, Antwerp, or even Belgium.
The German General Beseler’s letter had included a line: “Please cherish your citizens’ strength and do not subject the entire city of Antwerp to the ravages of war!”
This was clearly a veiled threat—if they didn’t hand over Charles, the city would be destroyed.
“But, General!” Winter glanced at Charles. “He’s a genius. He could give us more than we imagine...”
Winter trailed off, realizing the futility of his words. Charles’s brilliance meant nothing to Belgium. Without an industrial foundation, they couldn’t implement his inventions, and it would only bring him trouble.
Gillis’s indifferent expression made this all the more evident.
Determined to stop this, Winter resolved to act. If Charles fell into German hands, it would be catastrophic for the Allies.
Yet Winter suddenly realized his force of ten thousand reinforcements was insignificant among Antwerp’s fortress network. He couldn’t prevent what was unfolding.
At that moment, hurried footsteps approached. A middle-aged man in an ornate military uniform, hand on his sword, strode into the room.
General Gillis quickly stepped forward and bowed. “Your Majesty!”
It was King Albert I of Belgium. He glanced at Generals Gillis and Winter. From their expressions, he could tell something was amiss.
Or rather, he had already guessed. That was why he had come.
Albert I looked at Charles, who was eating and studying maps at the table, and then turned his gaze back to Gillis. Straightening his posture, he leaned closer, radiating pressure.
In a low, firm voice, he said, “I know what you’re thinking, General! I will not allow it. Belgium’s dignity must not be tarnished!”
Table of content - Next Chapter >>>
