Chapter 166: Chess Player or Chess Piece
Charles was not in a hurry to contact Kobdo. He remained cautious.
Charles knew that another meaning of entering the newspaper industry was to tell everyone that he had established his own business, which might bring about a series of troubles.
For example, Steed, who controls Saint-Etienne, has an unclear relationship with Charles: Does Saint-Etienne really intend to form an alliance with Charles or does it want to recruit Charles to serve it?
If it was the former, he already regarded Charles as a "chess player", so there wouldn't be any problem.
But if it is the latter, Saint-Etienne only wants to use Charles as a "chess piece", and certainly does not want to see Charles become a faction of his own.
The newly formed alliance will then break down, and Charles will once again be in the embarrassing situation of facing all the capitalists alone.
This is something the military cannot resolve, and winning the battle will not change anything.
Therefore, even though Charles really needs a media now, he still thinks the time is not yet ripe.
After careful consideration, Charles decided that he should wait until Saint Etiler could no longer do without him before making any plans in this regard.
He planned to call Kobdo to discuss it later. In the meantime, Charles would arrange a job for Kobdo and use him to develop the newspaper business when there was an opportunity.
However, an opportunity changed Charles's mind.
The next day, Charles returned to the headquarters as usual. In order to avoid the enthusiastic people of Paris, Charles had to report one hour early.
It was just past seven when he arrived at the headquarters, and Gallieni had not yet gotten up. When there was no fighting, he was used to getting up at eight.
There were already several people at the headquarters sorting out the documents, including Lieutenant Colonel Fernando in addition to several staff officers and signalmen who were on duty all night.
"Good morning, Lieutenant!" Lieutenant Colonel Fernando smiled meaningfully, "Congratulations, we have business again, but we are in trouble!"
"What?" Charles didn't understand what Colonel Fernand meant.
Lieutenant Colonel Fernan handed a document to Charles and said, "The grenades you produced were well received as soon as they were delivered to the battlefield. The soldiers gave them rave reviews and said that this is what they needed, and that they also achieved many results. However, the 10,000 grenades we purchased were all used up in less than half an hour!"
Only then did Charles realize it was about the grenade.
"Is it because of the price?" Charles glanced at Gallieni's lounge like a thief. "The general is dissatisfied with the price?"
"This is just one of them, Lieutenant!" Lieutenant Colonel Fernand, who was sitting and writing documents, turned sideways to Charles, his hand on the back of the chair, and the pencil shook up and down between his fingers: "The general will discuss the price issue with the capitalists, but more importantly... the 10,000 grenades were indeed used up, but I didn't say that they were all thrown at the enemy!"
Charles laughed: "You are very humorous, Lieutenant Colonel. If you don't throw it at the enemy, why throw it at..."
Before he could finish his words, Charles realized the problem. The soldiers had not received any training in throwing grenades, and if the grenades were put into their hands so carelessly, accidents would be inevitable.
Lieutenant Colonel Fernan nodded to confirm Charles's idea and glanced at the document in Charles' hand.
Charles silently flipped through the file, which detailed various bizarre incidents that occurred on the front line:
His hand slipped while throwing, and the smoking grenade fell at his feet.
I opened the safety cover too early and carried the equipment with me, and when I was running, I pulled the trigger and it caught something.
Some of them were simply picked up by the transporters out of curiosity because they thought they were new and interesting...
Lieutenant Colonel Fernand put a hand on Charles' shoulder: "General Gallieni believes that you should be responsible for this matter because he knows that your tank troops were trained before going to the battlefield to use grenades!"
Charles nodded in distress. All he had been thinking about was that the front line needed grenades, so he sent them.
It was totally unexpected that hand grenades were a brand new equipment for the army of that era, and they also needed training before using them, even though quite a few of them were veterans.
At this time, Gallieni got up, came out of the lounge in his military uniform, and saw Charles at a glance.
"You're just in time!" Gallieni raised his chin towards Charles and walked towards his desk without looking back.
Charles walked tactfully to Gallieni's desk.
It was dark in the early morning. Gallieni turned on the desk lamp, and the orange light instantly illuminated his desk. Charles noticed that there was an accident report on the table that was exactly the same as the one in his hand.
The orderly brought Gallieni a plate of bread and a cup of coffee. Gallieni ate the bread and asked Charles: "You already know the situation? How do you plan to solve it?"
"I'm very sorry, General!" Charles replied, "I will immediately prepare a detailed instruction manual and shipping specifications..."
"That's all?" Gallieni interrupted Charles, his tone dissatisfied: "We can also accomplish these, Lieutenant, my headquarters has 32 staff officers, each of them can do what you said."
"Then..." Ciel didn't know what else to do.
"One franc!" Gallieni suddenly said.
"What?" Charles was confused.
"The price of a grenade!" Gallieni said while chewing bread. "I think one franc is about right!"
"No, that's impossible!" Charles understood that Gallieni was simply taking the opportunity to lower the price.
Gallieni slowly calculated with Charles: "One division, 10,000 grenades only take half an hour. We have 44 divisions, and the number is still increasing. How many grenades do you think we need?"
Gallieni stared at Charles, as if to say: With such a huge demand, why don't you, a black-hearted capitalist, lower the price?
"We have to consider the production costs, General..." said Charles.
"I contacted Steed, you can't fool me!" Gallieni interrupted Charles.
Charles was stunned. If Steed was tricked into revealing something, or if the two of them didn't agree on what they said, this business would be difficult to do.
But Charles noticed that Gallieni glanced at him while he drank his coffee, and he had a clue.
"No, General!" Charles answered confidently: "One franc is not even enough to cover the production costs. At most... it can only be reduced to 1.5 francs, which is the best price!"
Gallieni was a little discouraged. The little guy didn't fall for it.
He did call Steed, but the old fox Steed said that he would leave it to Charles to handle it, and that Charles was the one who had the final say in this matter.
However, a drop of 0.5 francs is still considerable.
"Okay!" Gallieni nodded: "One million, 1.5 francs! But this is not the final offer."
No one else can produce grenades at the moment, so what else can he do?
"Now!" Gallieni looked up at Charles and said, "Tell me about your training plan. How can we teach the 44 divisions on the front line to use grenades in a short period of time?"
(End of this chapter)
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