I Became a Tycoon During World War I - Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Nearly Fooled

"One hundred thousand francs!"

Bonnet was a shrewd businessman. After breaking through Djoka's psychological defenses, he offered an enticing price.

Seeing Djoka still hesitating, Bonnet added:
"No one else would offer such a good price, Mr. Djoka. As I said, they could choose to copy it instead of spending money to buy your property rights!"

Djoka turned his gaze to Charles, clearly tempted. At a time when a worker's monthly salary was only 28 francs, 100,000 francs was no small sum, especially with countless invisible hands lurking around, ready to seize and plunder.

Charles remained silent, replaying Bonnet's words in his mind before arriving at a conclusion:

Using the threat of the Two Hundred Families to pressure Djoka, combined with the lure of 100,000 francs—a classic stick-and-carrot approach... Bonnet certainly understood the art of negotiation.

Watching the silence of the two, Bonnet felt secretly triumphant. He believed victory in this battle was already assured; they had no other choice!

However, Bonnet had underestimated Charles.

He hadn’t expected that, besides being an inventor, Charles also possessed a keen business acumen. Throughout the negotiation, Bonnet had targeted Djoka while overlooking Charles, perhaps because the young man had been sitting harmlessly on the side, exuding an air of youthful naivety.

"Mr. Bonnet!" Charles spoke, his tone steady yet youthful, carrying a quiet but firm resolve. "If things are truly as you say, you wouldn’t have rushed here the moment we applied for industrial property rights. Am I wrong?"

The smile on Bonnet's face noticeably faltered, though his years of experience in business had trained him to remain unshaken. He responded with a gentle smile:
"Mr. Charles, that’s just my style. I demand the same from my subordinates; otherwise, there wouldn’t be a Le Petit Journal today!"

This explanation made sense. Running a newspaper and capturing the market required seizing opportunities promptly.

But Charles wasn’t buying his excuse.

"I guess you were prepared well in advance," Charles said, glancing toward the hall outside the VIP room. "You must have paid one of the staff beforehand to monitor applications for tank industrial property rights and report to you immediately once one appeared!"

Bonnet responded with a smile that seemed to say, "That’s just my style."

Charles pressed further:
"If what you say is true, and no one else would offer a higher price, then this is not the optimal time for negotiations, is it?"

Bonnet’s smile began to freeze. He hadn’t anticipated this line of questioning and was at a loss as to how to address the glaring flaw in his logic.

Djoka, initially confused, began to understand after noticing Bonnet’s discomfort. Reflecting on Charles’ earlier words, he suddenly realized:

"Exactly! This isn’t the best time to buy the property rights!"

"Mr. Bonnet should have let us wander around outside, hitting walls and being crushed by the Two Hundred Families, leaving us battered and bruised, barely clinging to life. Only then should he have made his move!"

"That way, he could purchase the tank’s industrial property rights at the lowest price, and we’d even be grateful to him!"

"Yet, Mr. Bonnet chose to offer 100,000 francs now, before we even stepped out of the town hall. Why is that?"

The more Djoka spoke, the more excited he became, his last question laced with a hint of defiance.

He could almost conclude that Bonnet’s urgency stemmed from the fact that other parties were also interested in purchasing the tank’s industrial property rights, likely offering a much higher price.

Bonnet was left speechless. This wasn’t something that could be explained away by "style." It defied business logic—no merchant would refuse to buy low unless there was a compelling reason. Otherwise, they’d have gone bankrupt long ago.

"But..." Bonnet made one last desperate attempt: "The price I’m offering is reasonable, wouldn’t you agree?"

He glanced at the two of them with a hint of nervousness, his eyes striving to appear sincere.
"If you produce tanks on your own, under their suppression, you might not even earn 100,000 francs!"

Djoka couldn’t refute this. The threat of the Two Hundred Families was real; they would never allow the Bernard family to monopolize tank production. This was an undeniable fact.

So, the price of 100,000 francs did seem reasonable.

But Charles mercilessly exposed Bonnet’s lie:

"No, Mr. Bonnet, you seem to have forgotten the Paris Convention."

Bonnet stared at Charles in disbelief, then masked his reaction with a composed "Hmm."
"Oh, right. I must have overlooked that. Well, if you’re dissatisfied with this price, we can negotiate further."

Djoka immediately grasped the underlying logic.

The Paris Convention, officially known as the Paris Convention for the Protection of Industrial Property, was an agreement established in Paris in 1883 by countries like Britain, France, and Russia to safeguard inventors' rights internationally.

Before the Paris Convention, industrial property rights between nations were difficult to enforce. A wave of professional "copycats" had even emerged, constantly monitoring foreign property registrations. The moment a new registration was made public, they would replicate it in their own country and register it first, leaving the original inventor to discover, upon attempting to register in that country, that they had become the "copycat."

The Paris Convention stipulated that all invention applications in signatory nations would be considered as filed on the same date as the first domestic application. This prevented foreign registrations from being stolen.

In other words, Charles’ tank industrial property rights could also be registered in countries like Britain, Russia, and the United States.

These countries also needed tanks. Among them, Britain and Russia were currently engaged in war and were allies. They were beyond the reach of the Two Hundred Families, making the tank property rights worth far more than 100,000 francs!

Djoka, unable to tolerate Bonnet’s demeanor any longer, decided not to continue the discussion. Taking Charles by the arm, he said:

"My apologies, Mr. Bonnet, but this isn’t a decision we can make on our own. We still need my father’s input!"

"You know, in the Bernard family, my father has the final say!"

Djoka remained measured in his response, not wanting to offend Bonnet. After all, as the owner of the Le Petit Journal, Bonnet controlled significant media influence.

"Of course!" Bonnet nodded reluctantly, rising to hand each of them a business card.
"If you gentlemen change your minds, please feel free to contact me! And the price is negotiable!"

Bonnet emphasized his last sentence, hinting that no matter how high others might bid, he could always go higher.

Finally, he didn’t forget to praise Charles:
"That’s a remarkable invention, Mr. Charles. It saved France. My respect to you!"

Djoka left the town hall with Charles, casting a wary glance back and sighing with relief:
"We almost fell for that guy’s tricks. Thank goodness for you, Charles! You beat that arrogant man!"

Djoka looked at Charles with pride in his eyes. How quickly this teenager was maturing—he could hardly believe Charles was still underage!

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