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

Chapter 54: Laurent is Committed

The guard company was stationed on a clearing outside the factory, an area that had previously been used as a defensive position by the French army against the Germans. The site still had remnants of old fortifications, which the soldiers reinforced and modified, setting up tents to transform it into a functional encampment.

Inside the medical tent, a medic was carefully treating Laurent's injuries. Though he had recently taken a beating in town when mistaken for a "kidnapper," he'd only sustained surface wounds. But today, the enraged factory workers' assault had done more harm—his injuries were more than skin-deep.

Laurent's left arm was dislocated, requiring a sling around his neck after it was reset. It would take at least a week to recover. His nose, broken from the blow, had been painfully realigned with a snap, and he had to use a gauze plug to stop the bleeding.

After the medic left, Captain Jules, commander of the guard company, approached Laurent with visible concern. "Nothing too serious, I hope, Major?"

Laurent, clutching his nose with his good hand, answered in a nasally voice, "Minor issue… nothing I can't handle."

"You're saying…" Jules looked skeptical. "That what just happened out there was part of the plan?"

"Of course!" Laurent cleared his throat, straightened up, and continued, "Only by staging an incident this intense—complete with some bloodshed—can we convince those capitalists that we're truly at odds with Charles."

Jules hesitated, sensing that Laurent might be stretching the truth, but chose not to press the matter. "I understand, Major. Still… our men don't know the full truth of this mission. Most of them actually believe they're genuinely keeping tabs on Charles. Many of them don't want to participate. I'm worried the company could start to fracture."

This was indeed a special assignment from General Gallieni, and to maintain secrecy, only Laurent and Jules knew that their actual mission was to protect Charles and the factory under the guise of monitoring him. There was also a private motivation behind the general's order—he wanted to be kept informed of Charles's strategic and tactical insights.

Laurent looked sideways at Jules. "Anti-mission sentiment?"

"Yes, sir," Jules explained. "Everyone knows Charles saved France, Major, and treating him as a potential spy is not only unpopular—it's an insult to their intelligence. Some feel that this assignment is a waste of time, and it's causing serious pushback."

Laurent gave a dismissive snort. "Do their feelings matter? They only need to focus on one thing: following orders."

"But Major…"

"Gather them up!" Laurent interrupted. "Let me handle this."

"Yes, sir," Jules replied, reluctantly obeying.

After Jules left to summon the soldiers, Laurent inspected himself in the mirror. Although his nose was swollen and his lip bruised, he straightened his cap. A soldier must always maintain his appearance.

Outside the tent, the company's two hundred soldiers were already assembled. Laurent marched in front of them with his head high, pacing sternly. Despite his injuries, he forced himself to keep a hard expression, hoping to look "menacing"—though his efforts only appeared comical to the troops.

"I've heard some of you have doubts about this mission. Some think we're wasting time, monitoring a supposedly 'decent' capitalist. Well, let me remind you…" Laurent began, his voice loud but nasal.

"Have you forgotten Lesseps?" he continued, his anger directed at the soldiers. "Wasn't he once hailed as a hero? Wasn't he a 'savior,' just like Charles?"

This reference was to an incident from two decades earlier.

Ferdinand de Lesseps, a prominent French businessman, was given the rights to dig the Panama Canal and issued stock for public investment. With heavy promotion and the assurances of countless officials, people across France believed it to be a guaranteed profit-maker. Frenzied by this promise of wealth, the public snapped up the shares. Lesseps raised billions of francs, only to issue even more shares shortly afterward.

Then, suddenly, the company declared bankruptcy with a staggering debt of 1.28 billion francs, and the canal was only a third completed. The French public realized too late that they had been deceived. Lesseps had bribed everyone from government officials to nearly 200 members of Parliament and numerous journalists, all of whom helped create the illusion that everyone would profit. The Radical Party leader Clemenceau alone was found to have taken a bribe of a million francs.

The collapse bankrupted 900,000 small shareholders and caused widespread devastation among small businesses. And, despite overwhelming evidence, a sham trial found Lesseps and his conspirators "not guilty," with Lesseps receiving a mere 3,000-franc fine.

Protests, strikes, and public outcry followed, but to no avail. The people realized that expecting justice from those in power was a fantasy.

The soldiers fell silent; Laurent's words held weight. Lesseps had not only been a good man but a figure of hope for all France. This was one of the reasons for the public's deep resentment of capitalists—and Charles was certainly a capitalist.

"Capitalists are driven by their own interests!" Laurent shouted, holding his throbbing nose and raising his right arm to emphasize his point. "They always start as good men before showing their true colors. It's in their nature to take advantage of people. They're all the same!"

A few soldiers responded, nodding in agreement:

"He's right. They're all schemers."

"They're just in it for profit!"

But others quickly disagreed:

"Charles isn't like that. He saved our lives!"

"What's more valuable than our lives, or than France itself?"

"He never had to help us, yet he did. Charles paid out of his own pocket without asking for anything in return. We can't treat him this way!"

It wasn't clear who struck first, but soon there was spitting and shoving, which escalated into a punch being thrown. Others took it as a challenge, joining in, and soon they were wrestling on the ground in a full-scale brawl.

Many tossed their rifles aside to join in the fray, shouting wildly without distinguishing between allies and opponents.

Laurent looked on, stunned, trying to halt the brawl. "Stop it! All of you…!"

A fist from one of the soldiers caught Laurent squarely on the chin, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Inside the third-floor office of the motorcycle factory, Deyoka and Charles stood by the window, perplexed by the chaotic scene of soldiers outside the fence.

"What are they doing?" Deyoka asked.

"I don't know," Charles replied, shaking his head. "Maybe… training? They could be practicing how to handle an angry crowd."

Deyoka nodded, feeling somewhat moved. "Laurent is really dedicated to his work. Even the training looks intense. I'm sure he'll protect you well, Charles."

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