I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 166

Chapter 166: The Player or the Piece?

Charles did not rush to contact Kobdo; he maintained the necessary caution regarding the matter.

Charles understood that entering the newspaper industry meant declaring his independence to the world, and this could lead to a series of troubles.

For instance, Steed, who controlled Saint-Étienne, had an unclear relationship with Charles: Was Saint-Étienne genuinely planning to ally with him, or did they merely want to recruit him for their own service?

If it was the former, then he would be viewed as a "player," and there would be no problem.

But if it was the latter, and Saint-Étienne only saw him as a "piece" to be used, they would definitely not want to see him establishing his own faction.

In that case, the newly formed alliance would break down, and Charles would once again find himself in the awkward position of facing all the capitalists alone.

This was a matter that the military could not resolve; even winning battles would not change the situation.

Therefore, even though Charles indeed needed a media outlet right now, he still felt that the timing was not yet right.

After careful thought, Charles decided that he should wait until Saint-Étienne could no longer do without him before making any plans in that regard.

He planned to call Kobdo later and discuss things with him, while also arranging a job for him, hoping to use Kobdo to develop the newspaper business at the right time.

However, an opportunity arose that changed Charles' mind.

The next day, as usual, Charles returned to the headquarters. To avoid the enthusiastic Parisian public, he had to report an hour earlier than usual.

When he arrived at the headquarters, it was just past seven, and Gallieni had not yet gotten up. Without any battle, Gallieni was accustomed to waking up at eight.

A few people were already there organizing documents. Aside from the officers and orderlies who had stayed up all night, Colonel Fernand was also present.

"Good morning, Lieutenant!" Colonel Fernand greeted with a smile that seemed to carry a deeper meaning. "Congratulations, you've got more business, but we have trouble!"

"What?" Charles didn’t understand the meaning behind Fernand's words.

Colonel Fernand handed Charles a document. "The grenades you produced were welcomed as soon as they arrived on the battlefield. The soldiers gave rave reviews, saying that it was exactly what they needed, and they even had some good results. However, the 10,000 grenades we purchased were used up in less than half an hour!"

Charles now understood it was about the grenades.

"Is it because of the price issue?" Charles glanced towards Gallieni's office like a thief. "Is the general dissatisfied with the price?"

"That's only part of it, Lieutenant!" Colonel Fernand turned towards Charles while still sitting, resting his hand on the back of the chair and shaking the pencil in his fingers. "The general will discuss the price with the capitalists, but more importantly... those 10,000 grenades were used up, but I never said they were all thrown at the enemy!"

Charles chuckled. "You’re very humorous, Colonel. If they didn’t throw them at the enemy, what else could they have thrown them at…?"

Before he finished speaking, Charles realized the problem. The soldiers hadn’t been trained in grenade throwing, and so, handing grenades to them in such an unprepared manner, accidents were inevitable.

Colonel Fernand nodded, confirming Charles' thoughts, his eyes glancing at the document in Charles’ hand.

Charles silently flipped open the document, which detailed all sorts of bizarre incidents that had occurred on the front lines:

There were cases where soldiers' hands slipped during throwing, causing the smoking grenade to land at their feet.

Others opened the safety cap too early and wore them while running, causing the safety pin to catch on something.

Some transport personnel were just curious, picking up a few grenades to play with…

Colonel Fernand placed a hand on Charles’ shoulder. "General Gallieni believes that you should be held responsible for this because he knows your tank units received grenade-throwing training before they went to the battlefield!"

Charles nodded dejectedly. He had always thought that since the front line needed grenades, he should just send them.

He hadn’t considered that grenades were a completely new piece of equipment for an army in this era, and they needed training before use, even if many of them were veterans.

At this point, Gallieni woke up and dressed in military uniform, coming out of his office. As soon as he saw Charles, he said, "You came at the right time!"

Gallieni nodded his chin towards Charles and walked toward his desk without looking back.

Charles, understanding the situation, walked to Gallieni's desk.

The sky was still dim at dawn. Gallieni turned on the desk lamp, and the orange light immediately illuminated his desk. Charles noticed that there was a report on Gallieni's desk that looked identical to the one he was holding.

A service member brought Gallieni a plate of bread and a cup of coffee. Gallieni chewed the bread while asking Charles, "You already know about the situation, right? How do you plan to handle it?"

"I am very sorry, General!" Charles responded, "I will immediately prepare a detailed usage manual and transport regulations..."

"Is that all?" Gallieni interrupted Charles with an unsatisfied tone. "We can handle that too, Lieutenant. My headquarters has 32 officers, and each one of them could do what you just said."

"Then..." Charles didn’t know what else to say.

"One franc!" Gallieni suddenly said.

"What?" Charles was confused.

"The unit price of the grenades!" Gallieni continued chewing his bread. "I think one franc is appropriate!"

"No, that's impossible!" Charles understood. Gallieni was trying to drive down the price.

Gallieni leisurely began calculating with Charles. "A division uses 10,000 grenades in half an hour. We have 44 divisions, and the number is still increasing. How many grenades do you think we need?"

Gallieni's eyes locked onto Charles, as if to say: With such a huge demand, this greedy capitalist of yours refuses to lower the price?

"We must consider production costs, General..." Charles replied.

"I've already contacted Steed, you can’t fool me!" Gallieni interrupted Charles.

Charles was momentarily stunned. If Steed had said anything or if their statements didn’t match, the deal would be in trouble.

But Charles noticed Gallieni sneak a glance at his coffee as he drank it, which gave him some reassurance.

"No, General!" Charles answered confidently. "One franc doesn’t even cover the production costs. The lowest I can go is 1.5 francs. That’s the best price I can offer!"

Gallieni seemed somewhat deflated. This young man hadn’t been tricked.

He had indeed called Steed, but that old fox had said it was up to Charles to handle things. In this matter, Charles was the one with the authority to decide.

However, a 0.5 franc reduction was still quite considerable.

"Alright!" Gallieni nodded. "One million grenades, at 1.5 francs! But this isn’t the final price."

Currently, no one else could produce grenades. What could Gallieni do?

"Now!" Gallieni looked up at Charles. "Tell me your training plan. How can we teach the 44 divisions on the front line to use grenades in the shortest possible time?"

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