I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Chapter 17: Why Should I Sell You My Money-Maker?

Bonnet felt rather pleased with himself. As the owner of The Daily Journal, he prided himself on his insider knowledge. When the tank first appeared on the battlefield, he received the news within minutes—before even Gallieni was informed. While Gallieni had to wait for intelligence to be relayed through formal military channels, Bonnet's information came directly from the front lines. He had arranged with many mid- and low-ranking officers that anyone who provided exclusive, valuable news would receive a handsome reward.

As the tank charged forward on the battlefield, someone was already on the phone with The Daily Journal, describing the entire scene in vivid detail. The article was written up, given some embellishments, and paired with an illustration. It went straight to press that night and hit the streets first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, other newspapers were still completely in the dark. The Morning Post, for instance, was still predicting a French defeat...

Bonnet smirked—no wonder The Daily Journal sold a million copies every day. In a country with a population of less than forty million, that figure was staggering. Virtually everyone who could read, and chose to read, was holding a copy of The Daily Journal.

And now, thanks to his network, Bonnet had managed to intercept Charles at the patent office.

"Gentlemen!" Bonnet said, removing his coat and hat and handing them along with his cane to Manuel. "Apologies for keeping you waiting."

Politeness was one of Bonnet's secrets to success; he believed it was the most affordable way to earn respect, gather intelligence, and secure business. Why not use it to his advantage?

He sat down across from Derek and Charles, pulling out a cigar and offering it to Derek. "Care for one, Mr. Derek?" he asked politely.

"No," Derek declined, a hint of hostility in his tone. Charles, on the other hand, looked indifferent, as if he had anticipated this encounter. After all, tanks were game-changers in warfare; of course, capitalists would smell their worth.

What Charles hadn't expected was how quickly they'd come knocking. This man's network might just be sharper than French intelligence itself.

Bonnet put the cigar back in his coat, having decided not to light it alone. There was no advantage in coming across as haughty in business negotiations.

"Relax, gentlemen," Bonnet said with a warm smile. "I'm only here to discuss business. I'm interested in buying, and you, of course, have the right to refuse. That's all there is to it."

"Mr. Bonnet," Derek replied, his voice unwavering, "if you owned a money tree, would you sell it?"

Derek's bluntness hit the mark. Charles owned the patent rights to the tank, and the Bernard family had a tractor factory. By modifying the tractors into tanks, they could sell them to the military and the government, earning immense profits. Why should they sell it to Bonnet? And if he wanted it, how much would he pay for such a money-maker?

Bonnet simply nodded, as though he'd anticipated this. He wasn't one to go into a battle unprepared—another key to his success.

"Do you really think it'll be that simple?" Bonnet asked calmly.

"What do you mean?" Derek narrowed his eyes, hearing a hint of menace in Bonnet's tone. "Let me remind you, Mr. Bonnet, if you intend to play any tricks, you'll have to face the Bernard family."

The Bernard family may not have been part of the elite "200 Families," but their reputation and influence in France's agricultural industry were considerable, making them not so easily intimidated.

"No, no, you've misunderstood me," Bonnet reassured him. "Have you heard of the Maxim gun?"

Derek nodded, though he didn't see the relevance. "What does that have to do with us?"

Bonnet continued, "Everyone knows that the Maxim gun is an excellent machine gun, better than any we currently use. So why hasn't the French army adopted it?"

"Because… it wasn't invented in France?" Derek replied without much thought.

Bonnet gave a knowing smile. "Is that really why?"

Suddenly, Derek understood. That excuse was merely a cover. The real reason was that adopting the Maxim gun wouldn't make the banking elite any money.

Seeing that Derek had grasped the idea, Bonnet continued, "They control the military, Mr. Derek. Naturally, they decide what the army buys. If they choose, your tanks may never be bought by the army at all. And really, who else is going to buy a tank?"

Derek froze. The situation indeed seemed as Bonnet described. Even an arms factory needed government approval, and the government was firmly under the influence of the financial elite.

Still, Derek was hesitant. "But a tank could help the army win battles, saving countless soldiers' lives…"

Bonnet cut him off, "They have ways around that. Just look at the difference between the St. Étienne machine gun and the Hotchkiss."

Derek appeared confused, but Charles nodded in understanding.

Bonnet took note of Charles's reaction. This young man's invention of the tank might not have been a mere stroke of luck; he seemed well-versed in military technology.

"The Hotchkiss is an excellent machine gun," Bonnet explained, "but the financial elite didn't own it. So they produced a copy, making only a few changes to create the St. Étienne machine gun."

"So, you're saying…" Derek said slowly, "they would make a copy of the tank with only slight modifications?"

Bonnet merely smiled, leaving the answer unspoken. A savvy businessman never made things too explicit—it avoided antagonizing anyone. But he'd clearly implied as much.

Derek, feeling furious, stood up. "That's outright theft! They can't just get away with this. We'll fight them to the end—"

"Do you think you can stop them?" Bonnet asked. "Sue them? Take them to court? That's their game."

Derek's confidence wavered. Suing the 200 Families? Even the judges might be on their side. It would be better to give up before starting such a futile battle.

He sat back down in frustration, thinking for a while before finally muttering, "Then… if we sell it to you, what difference would that make? They'd still 'copy' it."

"There would certainly be a difference," Bonnet said, confidently leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. "I have The Daily Journal. If they try to copy the tank, I'll plaster it all over the front page. The entire nation will know about their dirty tricks. I won't need a lawyer—France's citizens will be the ones to convict them."

Then Bonnet leaned forward, locking eyes with Derek. "So, Mr. Derek, selling me those rights is your best choice."