I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 135: Long-Lost Brother

The negotiations went smoothly. After a quick look at the blueprints and specifications, Steed's face lit up as he immediately presented two options:

"One million francs to purchase the patent outright, or a partnership where I offer you a 50% share of the profits!"

Deyoka was stunned by the offer. He hadn't expected this seemingly minor invention to be worth one million francs—more than even the patent for the tank, which sold for only 990,000 francs. How could this little item be worth more than such a large and complex machine?

Seeing Deyoka hesitate, Steed added, "This is my initial offer, Mr. Deyoka. If you're not satisfied, we can discuss it further."

Deyoka felt slightly dizzy. This was just the starting offer?

Bonnet, standing nearby, was equally baffled. This wasn't how negotiations were supposed to work, especially for someone as seasoned as Steed. Today, he seemed unusually eager to reveal his hand—and for such an unassuming product.

But Bonnet couldn't know that Steed had more in mind than just the grenade's potential. His hope was to use this opportunity to establish a relationship with Charles. Inside, he repeated to himself, Please choose the partnership. It will generate so much more wealth than a simple sale.

If it had been up to Deyoka alone, he might have chosen to sell the patent outright without hesitation. But he knew that Charles's true goal was to form an alliance with Steed. So, he nodded and replied, "No, Mr. Steed, we don't need to discuss the price any further—I'll choose the production partnership."

"Wonderful!" Steed laughed heartily, even pulling Deyoka into a spontaneous embrace. "An excellent choice, Mr. Deyoka! If the opportunity arises, I'd be delighted to invite you and Charles to visit our armory. You could even take part in managing it—we're partners, after all, right? We're partners!"

Steed clapped Deyoka warmly on the shoulder, treating him like a long-lost brother finally found.

The result was exactly what Charles had intended.

Charles had already thought carefully about forming alliances. On his own, his influence was too fragile, and military regulations limited his ability to build a personal power base within the army. Alliances were the only viable path.

As he weighed his options, he ruled out conservative allies, knowing that their resistance to industrialization would conflict with his vision of innovation and invention.

The steel monopolies and the Vendel family? They operated on a different level entirely. The Brest Shipyards? With Britain as a naval ally, France had little need for more ships and few potential threats.

That left only Schneider, which made artillery, and Steed's Saint-Étienne armory, which produced light weaponry.

Schneider seemed promising at first, as they could collaborate on tank-mounted artillery, or even armor-piercing technology in the future. But before he had the chance, Schneider had unexpectedly become a competitor.

So Steed was the only remaining option. Charles soon realized that Steed's armory was practically a goldmine waiting to be tapped, with countless light weapon ideas just waiting to be brought to life.

These kinds of lightweight arms didn't require high technical barriers, and Charles could have manufactured them himself. But due to the complexities of gunpowder and ordnance production, starting from scratch would have been a hassle. Offloading the manufacturing to Saint-Étienne made perfect sense.

And, conveniently, Steed's factory was struggling. Charles only needed to offer one minor invention to spark Steed's interest and draw him in eagerly—like a bee to honey.

So when Deyoka sent word that he'd finalized the partnership with Saint-Étienne, Charles was unsurprised. Everything was going according to plan.

As dusk settled and the city lights began to twinkle, the atmosphere at the command center was unusually calm. Typically, they'd be bustling at this hour, sorting reports and intelligence well into the night, for the battlefield waited for no one. But now, with little happening on the front lines, only a few staff officers remained on duty, while the rest were dismissed to rest.

Just as Charles was about to head to his quarters, Lieutenant Colonel Fernand intercepted him.

"Hey, Lieutenant, aren't you going to relax a little?" he asked.

Charles glanced at his open door, puzzled. Wasn't he already on his way to rest?

With a smile, Fernand invited him along. "Come on, time to unwind!"

When Charles arrived at their destination, he realized that Fernand's idea of "relaxing" meant the officers' club. He was slightly disappointed; this was what they called unwinding?

The club was dimly lit and hazy with smoke. On the small stage, a piano played sporadic jazz tunes. Fernand ordered two small glasses of absinthe and cheerfully said, "Drink as much as you want—it's on me tonight!"

Charles knew this was a rare treat; absinthe was expensive and already difficult to find due to restrictions, with rumors that some countries had banned it for its supposed hallucinogenic effects. Although France hadn't banned it yet, tight regulations made it increasingly scarce and costly, so much so that only the wealthy could afford to stock an entire bottle.

(Note: France banned absinthe in 1915.)

Charles suspected that Fernand was being generous because he knew he wouldn't drink much. This was Charles's first taste of alcohol, and he naturally assumed the green liquid would be sweet, like a soft drink. Without bracing himself, he took a sip and immediately coughed, taken aback by the harshness.

Nearby officers chuckled, amused at the "rookie." Behind the bar, a young, charming barmaid skillfully shook her cocktail shaker and glanced over with interest before turning to Fernand.

"Colonel, is that your new aide?" she asked.

"Him?" Fernand quickly shook his head and corrected her. "Oh, no, Lucia, you've got it wrong. Actually, I'm his aide!"

Lucia, the barmaid, laughed politely, thinking he was joking.

Fernand leaned over to Charles and said, "You'll get used to it, Lieutenant. After a long day, it's good to relax here—it'll help you sleep better." With that, he raised his glass to Charles, saying, "No need to thank me. It's my duty!"

Catching his breath, Charles thought that Fernand may have overlooked a couple of points:

First, Charles was still underage and perhaps not quite ready for alcohol. Second, with his regular two-day breaks, Charles didn't need a bar to unwind. If he wanted, he could spend an entire day resting at home!

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