I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start Chapter 57 57: "Comrades-in-Arms"

The harassnt tactics were a huge success on the battlefield. In this era, the main modes of military transportation were horses, mules, and even dogs, which often pulled machine guns or ammunition carts to ease the burden on soldiers.

With Charles's developnt of the sidecar-mounted motorcycles, the French Army gained a critical advantage in mobility against the Germans. While the harassnt tactics didn't directly inflict German casualties, they severely reduced German marching efficiency and fighting strength. At the sa ti, the French gained improved communication and intelligence-gathering capabilities. This cumulative advantage caused imasurable indirect losses for the Germans.

The tactical success had a direct impact on Charles's business, bringing him a surge in orders from the military. The first order was for 3,000 sidecars, followed shortly by another 3,000, and an additional order of 5,000 motorcycles. Each sidecar had a profit margin of 280 francs, and each motorcycle brought in 180 francs, with the military purchasing motorcycles at 360 francs per unit. Charles's initial profit on the French Army's orders alone amounted to a staggering 2.58 million francs.

Soon, the motorcycle factory received orders from the British Army, and even distant Russia sent representatives to place an order. The Russians expressed interest in testing a batch; if the vehicles proved suitable for Russian terrain, they would discuss establishing a factory in Russia for mass production.

Charles was confident. Russia's outdated military communication infrastructure had beco a serious handicap in combat coordination. He believed that motorcycles would help close that gap. While Charles was thriving, Francis felt the weight of imnse pressure.

At Francis's private estate, he sat down with his family for a candle-lit dinner. They were having steak, and several family mbers, each with a napkin around their necks, quietly focused on their food. The atmosphere was tense; the normally lively dinner table was subdued, owing to Francis's brooding silence.

After a while, Francis finally spoke in a dark tone, breaking the silence: "Did you know that Joseph resigned?"

Pierre, who was cutting his steak, froze. He knew this question was directed at him.

"Yes, Father, I know," Pierre replied.

"Do you know where he went?" Francis asked.

Pierre paused, looking a bit embarrassed. "No, I don't."

"And Thomas—do you know where he went?" Francis continued.

Pierre shook his head slightly, realizing that these weren't questions but accusations.

Sure enough, Francis glared at him, his voice filled with restrained fury: "Joseph, Thomas, along with Victor, Parrett, and seventy-seven others—our best technicians—resigned over two weeks ago, and you knew nothing!"

Without giving Pierre a chance to respond, Francis delivered the answer himself:

"They all went to Charles's new tractor factory, Pierre. And you didn't even know that Charles built a tractor factory right next to the motorcycle plant or that he imported the 'Holt 75' from England."

Pierre looked up at his father, visibly shocked. He really had known nothing about this. As the eldest son, he was far more concerned with which beautiful new dancer had just joined Folies Bergère in the Ninth Arrondissent than he was with factory developnts.

(Note: Folies Bergère was the hottest cabaret in Paris.)

Francis cut a chunk of steak angrily, chewing it with visible frustration. "That motorcycle factory we thought was worthless? In Charles's hands, it's turned into a golden goose in less than a month!"

"From what I've heard, he's booked orders through next year. With workers on three shifts producing around the clock, even at increased production, they can't keep up with demand."

"And now he's started a tractor factory—a factory that's producing tractors more advanced than ours!"

Francis stopped and fixed his gaze on Pierre, dripping with sarcasm. "And what have you been doing, Pierre? Honing your skills in the bedroom? Improving your 'charms' with those won?"

Amber, Pierre's wife, sitting beside him, averted her gaze, embarrassed. She knew all about Pierre's exploits, but she never confronted him. To her, as long as her own life was comfortable, what Pierre did outside was none of her business.

Francis watched her reaction with even more irritation, believing that Amber's indifference only enabled Pierre's hedonism.

Yet Pierre seed unbothered. He was accustod to his father's scolding. He calmly cut his steak and gracefully put it in his mouth, unaffected by Francis's outburst.

"Aren't you going to do sothing?" Francis growled, his tone a mixture of frustration and disappointnt. "If you can't solve this, your easy life will soon be over, Pierre!"

Pierre understood the underlying threat. His lavish lifestyle was funded by the tractor factory; if it were overshadowed by Charles's new enterprise, he'd lose his primary source of inco.

"There's one thing I don't quite understand, Father," Pierre said, maintaining his composure. "If Charles already sold the patent for the tank, why would he open a tractor factory? Is he just trying to drive us out of business?"

The logic didn't make sense. Charles must have known that civilian tractors wouldn't sell, and he'd already given up the military rights to the tank, which was now produced exclusively at Francis's factory. So, who would Charles sell his tractors to?

Francis sneered, "Do you think Charles does anything that doesn't turn a profit? He's nothing like his father!"

"That kid is full of sches. If he could invent the first tank and the sidecar, then he could easily create a second tank."

"If he succeeds, we're finished, Pierre!"

Pierre nodded slowly, realizing he had underestimated Charles. The boy was truly formidable, positioning himself to overtake their business both in the civilian and military sectors.

"He's practically on the verge of success," Pierre said with a hint of regret. "But, thankfully…"

"Thankfully what?" Francis snapped, barely suppressing his frustration. "You think you have a way to counter him?"

Francis had believed the matter was settled. Recently, he had been entirely focused on tank production and had paid little attention to Charles's activities. Now, he felt his decades of hard work were on the verge of unraveling in less than a month. How had Charles done it?

Pierre, however, was less pessimistic. He reminded his father, "The tank patent is with Grevy, Father, so…"

Suddenly, Francis's eyes lit up with understanding. He had been so focused on his own worries that he'd overlooked an obvious point: Charles's actions threatened Grevy's interests. This ant that Grevy and his fellow nobles were, in fact, "comrades-in-arms" against Charles!

Francis nodded thoughtfully. "You're right."

He raised his glass, making a toast to Pierre, who reciprocated calmly, sealing an unspoken agreent in the candlelight.

(End of Chapter)

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