I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 262
Added 2025-06-17 17:02:01 +0000 UTCChapter 262: Bare-Faced Interests
Darius was momentarily stunned, then laughed. He glanced at his empty left sleeve and replied with confidence, “I won’t have any higher position, Colonel!”
Charles did not argue further. He asked, calm and steady, “You should be aware of my passive situation in Parliament, right?”
“Of course.” Darius nodded, then angrily cursed, “Those stupid fools, they’re always being manipulated by the capitalists. If it weren’t for you proving yourself time and time again on the battlefield, they might still be spending money to bulk-buy those useless equipments!”
What Darius referred to were the “Saint-Samons” and CA-1 tanks.
This was well-known: capitalists, through Parliament, repeatedly defeated Charles’ tanks, but in actual combat, it was proven again and again that Charles’ tanks were exactly what the battlefield needed.
Veterans like Darius had a deeper understanding of this:
The capitalists controlled the Parliament to buy those equipments for profit, but the cost was paid by the soldiers on the front lines. Thousands of soldiers lost their lives or became disabled because of the capitalists’ mistakes, yet the capitalists were never held accountable for their errors.
Charles nodded, “If we let this go on, this kind of thing will keep happening in the future, and it will keep continuing.”
Darius agreed with him. The capitalists would not give up any opportunity to make money. For example, the “Saint-Samons” and CA-1 tanks, which had already been proven useless and even called “mobile coffins,” were still receiving orders.
But after a moment’s hesitation, Darius asked in confusion, “But, what can I do?”
Then, as if he understood, Darius said, “I understand now. I’ll organize a protest tomorrow. We need to make our voices heard, let them understand that what they’re doing is wrong…”
“No, Captain.” Charles interrupted Darius’ words, “They won’t listen to these voices. They might send in the army to suppress us, and they may even place the blame on me.”
Darius fell silent.
Though it seemed absurd, it was indeed the truth. Since the veterans had survived thanks to Charles’ help, people naturally believed that it was Charles who organized the protest.
Charles revealed the truth, “What I hope for is that someone will speak for the veterans and the soldiers on the front lines in the House of Commons!”
Darius was immediately frozen.
He had considered several possibilities, but he never thought that Charles would give him such a high position.
“C-Charles Young Master,” Darius stammered nervously, “Th-that means we need to form a political party…”
“You’ll need to form a political party!” Charles emphasized.
Darius suddenly understood. Charles, as a soldier, was not allowed to participate in politics unless he could retire from the military like Brown.
“Y-yes,” Darius swallowed with difficulty, “I… I’ll form a political party.”
Then Darius, with some difficulty, continued, “But, Young Master Charles, I… I may not be cut out for this. No one will listen to me. I have no charisma, and no one will want to follow me…”
Charles didn’t answer but instead tilted his chin toward the factory outside the window.
Darius immediately understood: his lack of charisma didn’t matter; Charles had it. All he needed to do was organize those who supported Charles.
Realizing this, Darius found his confidence, and his speech returned to normal, even with a hint of excitement in his voice, “This might be a good idea, Young Master Charles. You have so many supporters, not just at the welfare house, but there are many of your admirers among the citizens. We should organize them to do the right thing!”
Then Darius nodded affirmatively, “Yes, that’s the right way to go! We can’t let those stupid, greedy capitalists control everything. If this continues, France will be eaten alive by these parasites. We must stand up and fight, to reclaim what is rightfully ours!”
The more he spoke, the angrier he became, “The soldiers on the front lines can’t even decide what equipment to use. They’re forced to fight with what the capitalists impose on them, and many lose their lives for it, just because the capitalists want to make money. It’s ridiculous! We must stop them!”
Charles nodded silently. He knew that Darius had the potential for politics.
“I have nothing to do with this,” Charles said quietly. “This is the veterans’ decision.”
“Of course.” Darius nodded firmly, “In fact, the veterans have been discussing this matter for a while. It was their inspiration that made me decide to form a political party.”
With confidence and a determined tone, Darius almost convinced Charles that what he said was true.
Afterward, Charles didn’t linger in the factory.
With a new political party about to be born, Charles thought it was better to stay away to avoid suspicion. Even though everyone knew the truth, at least this way, there would be no issues with the procedure.
There were no laws prohibiting Darius from forming a political party or participating in politics. There were also no laws preventing the party leader from taking Charles’ “advice,” nor any laws stopping the party members from being Charles’ supporters.
The reason for doing this was simple. Charles knew that in order to outmaneuver Schneider in the House of Commons, relying solely on capitalists like Steed and Wells was far from enough.
Their relationship with Charles boiled down to a matter of interest exchange.
One day, as long as Schneider could offer more tempting interests, they would immediately switch sides and stand with Schneider.
Among them, Steed’s connections were particularly close, because, as things stood, almost everything produced at the Saint-Étienne arsenal would be tied to the industrial rights held by Charles. Schneider could hardly offer more tempting interests.
Wells’ shipyards, however, were different. His shipbuilding industry was tightly connected to Schneider’s steel forging. Charles had to be cautious.
Regardless of the situation, “Relying on others is never as reliable as relying on oneself” was still the truth. Seeking support from others was ultimately not the solution.
As for whether Darius might one day grow wings and fly solo, Charles thought there was no need to worry about that.
The reason was simple: this political party was built around Charles. All members of the party were his supporters.
If one day Darius really had such an idea, he would soon understand that the result of flying solo would be simply “flying solo.”
Charles’ thinking seemed somewhat ruthless. He had to discard all emotions and think purely from the perspective of interests about every problem and every ally. Even those like Darius, who could be called his “trusted followers,” were no exception.
Including Lucia and the “Lady in White.”
But Charles had no choice. He understood that politics had no room for emotions. It was all about interests—bare-faced interests.
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