I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 101

Chapter 101: I Am Telling the Truth

It was a sunny day. The morning sun rose faintly from behind a narrow band of clouds, casting bright yet gentle rays that bathed the town of Davaus in a light rose-colored dawn.

Laurent steadily drove the car into the small town. Sitting in the vehicle, Charles gazed at the familiar streets and waved to the neighbors greeting him. A sense of warmth welled up in his heart.

Simple, friendly, peaceful, harmonious...

Charles had grown accustomed to these qualities. It was like breathing air—something so natural and indispensable that he rarely thought about its value.

However, it was only after returning from Antwerp that Charles realized not everyone lived in such an environment.

The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the house. Camille stood at the door, waving with a smile, while Djoka emerged upon hearing the sound of the engine.

By their usual routines, Camille would be out shopping for groceries, and Djoka would already have finished breakfast and gone to the factory. But they knew Charles would be returning around this time, so they stayed home to await him.

Djoka noticed something unusual as Charles stepped out of the car. His eyes fixed on Charles’s sleeve with a puzzled look.

Charles immediately understood the source of Djoka’s confusion. He must have noticed the additional gold trim on the cuff.

“So!” Djoka asked as Charles approached, his tone tinged with disbelief. “You were gone for just two days, and you’ve already been promoted from second lieutenant to first lieutenant?”

“Promoted to what?” Camille asked. As a woman, she should have been more observant, but ranks and uniforms were far from her realm of interest. Her focus was entirely on Charles, and she had completely overlooked the change.

“Yes, Father!” Charles replied.

They still didn’t know about what had happened in Belgium, nor did anyone else.

Gallieni had imposed a media blackout under the pretext of “national security.”

Indeed, “national security.” From Gallieni’s perspective, revealing such information might allow the Germans to confirm Charles’s presence in Antwerp, potentially endangering him. Charles’s safety was equivalent to the safety of France itself—a matter of national security.

Now that Charles had returned safely, the media blackout would soon be lifted.

Before Charles left the command post, Gallieni had advised him, “Your parents will find out about this sooner or later. It’s best if they hear it from you personally. If necessary, I can explain everything over the phone.”

Gallieni saw it as his responsibility. After all, it was under his watch that Charles had been sent into danger. He undoubtedly bore the ultimate responsibility.

Although Charles was now safe, Gallieni felt he owed an explanation to Charles and his family.

“No need, General,” Charles replied. “I’ll handle it. This has nothing to do with you. No one could have anticipated what happened.”

Relieved, Gallieni nodded. The boy had emerged unscathed, which was all that mattered. Otherwise, Gallieni would never have forgiven himself. Then he chuckled. What could possibly happen to that little rascal? Wherever he went, it was always the enemy who ended up in trouble!

...

Charles followed Djoka to the dining table, where breakfast prepared by Camille awaited. Among the offerings was an apple, Charles’s favorite.

“So, what happened?” Djoka motioned toward Charles’s sleeve insignia. “From what I know, it usually takes years to rise from second lieutenant to first lieutenant—unless you’ve earned it in combat. What did you do?”

Camille grew tense at the mention of combat. She now noticed the fatigue etched on Charles’s face. “They didn’t keep you up all night, did they? Or was it more training?”

“No,” Charles shook his head. “I just went to Antwerp and helped defeat the Germans. That’s all.”

Charles told the truth. Sooner or later, the truth would come out, and he saw no harm in admitting it now.

Djoka and Camille stared at him, stunned. Then they exchanged a glance and burst into laughter.

“If that’s true,” Djoka said, “they wouldn’t have just promoted you to first lieutenant. They’d have made you a major or even a colonel!”

“When did you start making jokes?” Camille teased as she walked to the kitchen. Returning, she handed Charles a fork. “Well then, eat up and reward yourself for helping the Belgians defeat the Germans.”

“I also received a medal, Mother!” Charles added. “The Royal Crown Medal!”

Djoka and Camille’s smiles deepened.

Camille tilted her head with a playful “hmm” and decided to humor Charles. “Where is this medal, then? Can we see it?”

“Well…” Charles hesitated. “Unfortunately, I had to leave it behind when I escaped from Antwerp.”

Djoka chuckled. “Didn’t you just say you defeated the Germans? So why did you have to escape?”

Camille affectionately ruffled Charles’s thick, soft hair. “You’d better not say things like that outside. You know how reporters are—they’d have a field day with your story.”

Charles exhaled in relief. “As long as you see it that way, I’m fine.”

Djoka smiled knowingly. “You’re home now. What else is there to worry about?”

Before he could finish, the screech of brakes shattered the calm. A convoy of cars skidded to a halt outside. In an instant, dozens of reporters sprang from their vehicles like soldiers charging into battle. Armed with portable cameras, they rushed into the house, snapping pictures and firing off a barrage of questions:

“Mr. Charles, can you describe the Antwerp campaign?”
“They say you saved Antwerp and destroyed three ‘Big Bertha’ cannons. Is that true?”
“You also invented an anti-aircraft cannon capable of shooting down German zeppelins. Can you explain this invention? How does it work on an aircraft?”

...

Djoka and Camille froze in shock.

It was some time before Camille finally exclaimed, “Oh, my God—it’s true! Everything he said is true!”

Her eyes darted to Charles. “Did they send you to the battlefield? To Antwerp?”

“I already said so…” Charles began.

“The Parliament clearly stated this wouldn’t happen!” Camille interrupted, anger flashing in her voice. “You’re only seventeen. They tricked you into the army, and now they’ve sent you to the front lines!”

“It was an accident…” Charles tried to explain.

But his attempts were in vain. Camille had already grabbed a broom and was chasing the reporters out of the house.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Charles escaped upstairs, locked himself in his bedroom, and shut the door.

From below, Camille’s voice rang out, “Charles, you owe us an explanation!”

“I’m tired, Mother,” Charles called back.

Camille paused mid-step as she ascended the stairs.

Behind her, Djoka urged, “Charles fought for two days, Camille. I heard he even destroyed those ‘Big Bertha’ cannons and downed a zeppelin. He barely made it back… Shouldn’t we let him rest?”

Camille hesitated but ultimately stormed back downstairs in frustration.

Djoka offered a calming word. “The important thing is that Charles is here. He’s safe…”

“This can’t end here!” Camille interrupted. “They violated Parliament’s decision. If we don’t resist, there will be a next time!”

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