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I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 59
🕑 Added 2025-02-18 17:08:01 +0000 UTCChapter 59: They Helped Gallieni
On an ordinary morning, Charles woke up naturally.
Pulling back the curtains, he glanced outside to find the weather gloomy, with a light drizzle falling.
After staring blankly for a moment, he hurried to freshen up, dressed quickly, and went downstairs.
Camille was busy in the kitchen. Seeing Charles, she brought over a large plate of apple pastries along with a cup of hot milk.
"You must finish all of it!" Camille declared in a tone that left no room for objection.
In French, the word for "breakfast" also means "a small meal," signifying that the French don't place much importance on breakfast. A light bite to fill the stomach suffices, and sometimes, they skip it altogether.
But Camille believed that since Charles was still growing, he needed to eat more.
"Where's Father?" Charles asked as he munched on the crispy apple pastries. "Isn't he up yet?"
Usually, Djoka would join Charles for breakfast around this time before driving off to work. Charles worried he might be stuck at home all day again, like the last time.
"He just went out!" Camille poked her head out of the kitchen, her eyes glowing with pride. "To buy a newspaper. He heard there's news about you in it again!"
Charles didn't think much of it.
Ever since inventing the tank and the sidecar, newspapers across Paris—Le Petit Journal, Le Matin, Le Petit Parisien, La Presse—had been churning out endless reports about Charles. Article after article appeared, often accompanied by journalists waiting outside their home or factory for interviews or photographs.
(Note: The four newspapers mentioned above were the most popular French publications of the time, with Le Petit Journal having the highest circulation.)
Charles had grown used to it. Initially, he would humor the reporters, knowing they were just doing their jobs. But before long, he became annoyed, considering it a waste of time and a nuisance without end.
In contrast, Djoka and Camille delighted in it. Whenever there was news about Charles, they would buy every issue, pore over the articles, debate their content, compare them to similar pieces, and ultimately store them as keepsakes.
Djoka returned just then. Camille spotted him through the window and immediately dashed to the door, eagerly shouting, "Is it true? Another story about Charles? What does it say this time?"
Djoka merely nodded, handed a newspaper to Camille as he entered, and sat silently across from Charles.
Noticing the worry in Djoka's eyes, Charles couldn't help but ask, "Did they write something bad about me?"
"No," Djoka shook his head slightly, still saying little.
Camille unfolded the newspaper as she walked, scanning its pages until she exclaimed with excitement, "This time it's Le Figaro! And it’s the front-page headline—they’re saying you..."
Camille suddenly froze, staring at Charles in astonishment.
"Something new!"
"They’re claiming you intentionally lured the Germans to Davaus to expose their flank so we could defeat them!
"Is it true, Charles?
"Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?"
Charles immediately understood the reason for Djoka’s expression.
Djoka gave Charles a look, and Charles caught on. He put on an innocent face and replied, "I have no idea what this is about, Mother. They're just making things up!"
Camille paused, then burst out laughing.
"These reporters! They’ll say anything to boost sales!"
"But isn’t this a good thing?"
She placed the newspaper on the dining table and returned to the kitchen, saying cheerfully, "It’s definitely good news. Our Charles is a hero again!"
Djoka’s face was filled with bitterness. Lowering his voice, he asked Charles, "Was it Francis?"
Charles nodded.
Only three people knew about this: Francis, Gallieni, and Djoka.
Gallieni and Djoka would never leak the information. That left Francis.
Djoka had suspected as much but had been reluctant to accept it—it was, after all, his father, Charles’ grandfather.
"This might have something to do with our new tractor factory," Charles suggested.
He wanted to offer an explanation to ease Djoka’s mind.
"Even so, does that make it acceptable?" Djoka suddenly grew agitated, jabbing a finger at the newspaper. His voice was tense, almost gritted through his teeth. "Outwardly, he’s praising you, turning you into a hero. But his real motive is to push you into the army so you won’t become his competitor!"
Charles didn’t deny it. That was precisely Francis’s intent.
"He’s a coward!" Djoka muttered angrily. "Afraid to face your challenge, so he resorts to these underhanded tricks. Doesn’t he worry that sending you to the frontlines might..."
Djoka bit back the rest of his words, deeming them inauspicious.
Charles didn’t know how to console Djoka. He could only say, "It might not just be him, Father."
"What?" Djoka looked at Charles, puzzled.
Charles reminded him, "Le Figaro."
"Oh," Djoka uttered, instantly understanding.
Le Figaro was a newspaper targeted at the aristocracy, owned by Nicolas, himself a nobleman, along with Grevy and Armand, both influential representatives of traditional nobility and party leaders.
And they owned the rights to Charles’s tank.
If Charles’s tractor business thrived, it could threaten tank sales or even replace them altogether.
Connecting all these dots made the situation clear.
Djoka’s anger slowly gave way to fear. "Though their political influence isn’t strong, their networks are deeply rooted, and they hold significant sway in Parliament. Moreover, they’re financially powerful..."
At that moment, Camille emerged with a plate of apple pastries, placing one in front of Djoka and another in front of herself. Curious, she asked, "What are you two talking about?"
Djoka grew uneasy. If Camille learned that Francis and the traditional aristocracy had joined forces against Charles, she’d be terrified.
Charles, however, remained calm and replied, "Nothing, Mother. Just some minor issues with the car."
Camille didn’t suspect a thing. She chuckled at Djoka, "Well, that car is your father’s pride and joy, Charles. No wonder he looks so upset!"
Charles smiled but said nothing.
This turn of events had caught Charles off guard.
He had always tried to avoid antagonizing capitalists, yet he had still ended up crossing paths with the traditional aristocracy.
At the same time, he found it rather amusing. The traditional nobles seemed to have done Gallieni a favor.
Previously, Gallieni had wanted Charles as a military advisor but, wary of his role as an arms dealer, couldn’t openly request him. Even discussing it required discretion.
Now, with the traditional nobles fanning the flames, Gallieni could seize the opportunity to fulfill his wish without hesitation. Laurent wouldn’t have to demean himself so much anymore!
No, knowing that old fox Gallieni, he would act utterly reluctant, only agreeing begrudgingly after much persuasion!
What a drama king. Old schemer! It’s your stage now!
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