Chapter 392: A Dramatic Advantage
The rumors of the "Paris Cannon" circulated, and even the Germans were left bewildered.
They were indeed secretly developing such a weapon capable of reaching Paris, and the project had already entered production. But they couldn't fathom how such a well-guarded secret, known to only a handful in Germany, had somehow become the talk of the town in France.
Who leaked this information?
A thorough investigation was in order.
Meanwhile, Charles wasn't concerned with any of this. He was watching as the market reacted to the news:
The large insurance companies managed to keep their footing by hiking premiums to offset the risk. Douris Insurance, for instance, doubled its premiums while implementing harsh claim requirements that looked suspiciously like an attempt to avoid payouts altogether.
But the smaller insurers scrambled to exit the business. None of them knew when the Germans might complete their super-cannon.
What if it was tomorrow?
The thought of losing it all—having their years of hard work reduced to ruins or, worse, being left with crippling debt—drove them to desperation.
And just then, Deyoka struck. In a bold move, he acquired three smaller insurance firms, merging them into a single entity, the Bernard Insurance Company.
He chose "Bernard" rather than "Charles" to avoid implicating the brigadier general too directly in business, even though everyone knew who was behind it.
Then something astonishing happened. Even though Bernard Insurance Company set its premiums at the same high rates as its competitors, customers flocked to it, leaving Douris and others in the dust despite their attempts to cut prices.
The phenomenon puzzled even Deyoka, who had his assistant discreetly investigate why clients were abandoning the established firms. The answer was unexpected:
"People see Charles as an honorable capitalist," explained the assistant. "They trust him to keep his word, so they're not worried about getting their claims paid."
Deyoka nodded. The company's reputation was critical, and Charles' was impeccable.
"People believe putting their money into Charles' insurance firm is the right thing to do," the assistant continued. "They feel he's saved Paris and many lives."
Deyoka was momentarily taken aback. He hadn't considered this angle before.
But it made sense. For many, Charles was the savior of both Paris and France. If anyone deserved to profit, it was him—not the other capitalists who had done little in the war effort.
"Some say that Charles will use the money to help those in need, or even on the battlefield, so they're willing to pay the price."
For Deyoka, it was heartening to see Charles' reputation paying off in this way.
"Most believe Charles will use the funds to invent something to counter the German 'Paris Cannon,' or lead the army to destroy it before it threatens Paris. There's even talk of people asking if they could insure against a hypothetical march into Berlin—some are willing to bet their life savings on it!"
Deyoka rolled his eyes at the absurdity. That isn't insurance; it's gambling.
When Charles heard this feedback, he was equally taken aback. A year spent dealing with capitalists had conditioned him to see things purely from a profit-driven perspective. Now he realized that successful business meant understanding your audience: appeal to capitalists with profits and to citizens with values.
Everything Charles had done—the charitable efforts, the inventions, the accolades he'd earned on the battlefield—had come together to create an unstoppable momentum.
Within days, Bernard Insurance Company was collecting millions in daily premiums. And Charles knew the German "Paris Cannon" posed no real threat to Paris, meaning these premiums were nearly risk-free.
The results were staggering.
In the past, Charles had risked his life and pioneered tank technology, all to earn his first substantial payout of 99,000 francs. Now, without lifting a finger, he was reaping millions each day.
No wonder modern American industry had fallen to the lure of finance—why bother with production when profits like these could be made so easily?
Outside the gates of the police training base, a man in a weather-beaten overcoat named Fessenden paced nervously near two rifle-bearing guards.
Fessenden had been waiting three days to see Charles. His white beard was tangled from lack of grooming, and his glasses were covered in dust.
A scientist with over 500 patents to his name—including early radio technologies—Fessenden had a wealth of achievements. But lacking social skills and political acumen, he'd often found his work exploited by others.
He had worked as Edison's assistant for four years, only to be let go due to financial constraints. Later, he'd landed a respectable job at the U.S. Weather Bureau, which allowed him to retain ownership of his inventions. However, his boss there attempted to seize half his patents, forcing him to resign.
After that, he joined the National Electric Signaling Company (NESCO), only to face the same exploitative behavior and once again end up dismissed.
This time, Fessenden decided to sue. But the company used its resources to outlast him in court, bleeding him dry in a protracted legal battle.
"Are there any honest capitalists left?" he shouted in frustration—until a name crossed his mind: Charles.
Everyone called Charles "the honorable capitalist." Rumor had it that he encouraged his workers to innovate and even let them keep the rights to their inventions.
But Fessenden hesitated. Charles seemed focused on military inventions, and Fessenden's ideas didn't seem suited for warfare.
Then, he remembered his iceberg-detection device—a sonar prototype. That, at least, might be of interest to Charles.
Resolving to make the journey, Fessenden scraped together enough for passage to France.
When he arrived, he quickly realized how difficult it would be to see Charles. The brigadier general wasn't available to just anyone, especially to a foreigner who could easily be mistaken for a spy.
After days of waiting, Fessenden decided to take a gamble.
Straightening his coat, he marched up to the base gate and addressed the guard confidently, "I have vital information about the Germans to report directly to Brigadier General Charles. Please inform him immediately."
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