I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France

James had also set up a VIP meeting room on the second floor, decorated luxuriously and fully stocked with high-end red wine, cigars, fruit, and snacks.

Dejoka was arranged to wait in the VIP room, looking a bit nervous. He sat on the sofa with his whole body tense and anxiously inspected the surroundings, not daring to touch anything.

As an ordinary civilian, he had once looked up to James, considering him an idol. James was a figure that Dejoka thought he could never aspire to be, a person from a completely different world.

But now, Dejoka sat in the VIP room, waiting to meet James face-to-face for business discussions.

Everything felt like a dream; Dejoka sometimes couldn't believe it was real.

In a daze, Dejoka heard footsteps outside the door. He quickly stood up to greet the visitor, adjusting his suit hesitantly. It was a suit he bought specifically for this meeting, costing more than fifteen hundred francs.

The sound of the door opening crisply interrupted the silence, and James walked in quickly with a smile, extending his hand: "Hello, Mr. Dejoka, I have long heard of your great name and am delighted to see you here!"

"You, you too, Mr. James." Dejoka responded nervously, his eyes reflecting a hint of apology: "I hope my visit is not an inconvenience."

"Not at all, of course not." James invited Dejoka to sit on the sofa and joked: "You came at the right time, I was just thinking about how to end that boring meeting."

Saying this, James gestured towards the bar on the right, asking: "Coffee? Or perhaps some red wine?"

"Coffee, thank you!"

Paulina quickly brought them coffee and sugar cubes, and the room was immediately filled with a rich aroma.

James lounged on the sofa, took a sip of his coffee, and raised his cup towards Dejoka: "I envy you, Mr. Dejoka, you have a very outstanding son!"

This was the truth. Several of James' sons were either idle rich kids or "factory managers," striving to impress and be the potential heir in front of James.

Originally, James thought that one or two of them might be considered competent, but compared to Shire, they were like beggars on the street.

"Yes." Dejoka did not disagree, his face showing a proud smile: "He is indeed very outstanding, far beyond my expectations."

Then he remembered his purpose for coming and quickly explained: "I am here this time regarding your three steel factories in the northeast, Mr. James."

"The steel factories in the northeast?" James looked at Dejoka with great interest: "But they are under German control."

"I know." Dejoka replied: "I hope to buy them; you name the price..."

James smiled and shook his head: "If this is the reason you came, then I am sorry, but I might disappoint you. They are not for sale!"

James knew what Shire was thinking. Now that those steel factories were still in German hands, buying them at a low price and then taking them back when the French Army recaptured the territory, was not that cheap.

James wouldn't lack this bit of money; he would rather let those steel factories rot in his hands!

But Dejoka's tone was firm: "No, you will sell them. I hope you seriously consider it."

James's face darkened, and a trace of displeasure appeared in his eyes. No one could threaten him, including Shire.

But James didn't say anything, as Dejoka must have a reason for saying this, or more precisely, Shire must have a reason.

What could this reason be?

"No!" After thinking for a while, James still shook his head: "You can return this message to Shire. I believe he will certainly lead the Allied troops to victory and help me recover these steel factories. I have great confidence in him!"

"So do I, Mr. James." Dejoka stood up and shook hands with James to say goodbye, feeling much more relaxed.

Dejoka realized that James was nothing special; he was always one step behind Shire.

If he must idolize someone, it might as well be Shire, even though he was his own son.

Watching Dejoka's departing back, James remained puzzled.

What could Shire do with those factories?

What means does he have to force himself to sell them?

No, impossible!

Selling the steel factories would mean completely losing control over Shire, including the pressure on Wells.

So, under no circumstance will they be sold, unless he goes mad!

However, Schneider still did not consider one possibility.

...

At the Paris City Defense Command, Shire submitted a battle plan to Gallieni.

"What is this?" Gallieni opened it and flipped through it casually.

"A bombing plan for the next month," Shire replied. "We have more than a hundred bombers now, and the number is still increasing. I believe they should not be used just to bomb enemy airfields, as the Germans are already prepared for that."

Gallieni uttered a "hmm": "They have various artillery and machine guns deployed around the airfields and are working to increase their aircraft speed to catch up with our bombers."

"So, I plan to target the steel factories." Shire said righteously.

"Steel factories?" Gallieni was stunned, then nodded slightly: "Makes sense, the steel factories are producing steel for the Germans, which is then turned into the rifles, machine guns, bullets, and tanks that are used against us!"

"Yes." Shire pointed at the document with his head: "The beginning contains detailed information about several steel factories. With these, the Germans do not even need to transport supplies from their homeland. They have utilized the steel factories and established a few ordnance factories in the northeast, fulfilling most of their needs on the Western Front."

That was true; the information came from the "Lady in White."

If the French Government did not believe it, they could send spies from the "two bureaus" to investigate, and they would find the same results.

Gallieni looked at the beginning and nodded slightly:

"The plan seems fine, but..."

"The workers in the steel factories are mostly French; how can you avoid their casualties?"

"Moreover, although these steel factories are under German control, they are still the property of capitalists. This could cause some trouble."

Shire had long thought of countermeasures. He answered calmly: "We can drop leaflets before the bombing to let the workers hide. That's all we can do. After all, this is war."

Gallieni sighed lightly but still agreed with Shire's position.

If they stopped bombing for fear of collateral damage, the Germans would just use a few French people as human shields on the battlefield.

If they had too many concerns and were tied down, they might as well surrender immediately.

"As for the capitalists," Shire added, "If the lives of French workers can be sacrificed, what does their property matter?"

Gallieni immediately understood.

If the capitalists dared to resist, they would face the wrath of the French people!