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

Insurance sells fear and anxiety about the future: people transfer their fears and anxieties to the insurance company, and once those anxieties come true, the insurance company compensates with ample money. Of course, policyholders have to pay for this service.

Therefore, the more people are fearful and anxious, the better the insurance business.

But Dejoka had thorough considerations.

"Good business doesn't mean we can make money, Shire." Dejoka held up the pencil in his hand, with a trace of worry in his eyes: "If it really turns out as people say, and the Germans launch massive airship bombings against Britain…"

The results wouldn't need much description. The insurance company might end up losing everything, and Shire could lose everything overnight.

However, Shire knew this wouldn't happen.

"I know how to handle it." Shire said calmly: "I just haven't invented the equipment yet."

Dejoka understood instantly.

Shire was using his military talent to manipulate the market.

It was a good idea. On the one hand, he was fleecing Britain's civilians through the insurance industry, and on the other hand, he was inventing equipment to sell to the British Government.

When the British Government purchased the equipment to defeat the Germans, it was also serving Shire's insurance company.

A perfect closed loop; the profit involved wasn't just one or two million anymore, it would easily go up to billions.

Thinking of this, Dejoka's eyes sparkled with excitement, nodding and saying: "No problem, I'll send someone to London immediately."

With the company developing to this scale, Dejoka no longer needed to attend to everything personally.

After making the call, Dejoka smiled at Shire: "You know, the hardest place to develop our insurance business is precisely Paris."

"Paris?" Shire's gaze turned vigilant: "Is someone interfering?"

Shire's first reaction was that it was the competing capitalists, especially Schneider.

"No." Dejoka shook his head: "They don't seem to dare compete with us in the insurance industry."

Shire, with his military talent, had a natural advantage in this aspect. He controlled the outcomes of wars which could dictate the results of insurance, and no one dared to follow suit easily.

"Then what is it?" Shire was a bit puzzled.

"Because of you." Dejoka raised his brows.

"Me?" Shire looked blank.

"Yes." Dejoka nodded with a smile: "Everyone believes that as long as Shire is here, the Germans cannot threaten the safety of Paris, so they are very assured. In fact, they are considering when the French Army will reach Berlin!"

Shire understood with an "Oh".

Without anxiety, the market wasn't active. The insurance company could live a dull life, and of course, didn't want to sell at a low price.

The solution was to make the insurance company feel danger, to make them think that they could possibly lose money in the near future. Only then would they choose to sell it.

However, making Paris seem like a "dangerous" place wasn't easy; the Germans occupying Paris again was a matter of decades later.

After thinking for a while, Shire had an idea.

"Prepare the funds, Father." Shire said: "There might be changes in the next few days."

"Changes?" Dejoka stared at Shire in surprise: "Are you saying the Germans might attack Paris?"

Before Shire could answer, Dejoka exclaimed: "God, is it the airships? Will they use airships to bomb Paris?"

Shire shook his head, not giving Dejoka the answer. Some things weren't appropriate to come from his mouth.

Because people would say: "That's just a rumor spread by insurance companies, aiming to cheat us out of our money."

Therefore, Shire needed an authoritative institution to release the news, to shake the seemingly solid Paris insurance industry.

"Leave it to me." Shire instructed Dejoka before leaving: "Also, we need to buy a piece of land nearby to build a factory, possibly around 7000 sq meters."

"7000 sq meters?" Dejoka was startled by the number; that was a huge factory.

Shire nodded lightly and replied: "I purchased five cannon production lines from Britain, they'll be arriving in batches in the next few days."

Initially, Dejoka didn't think it was much, France needed cannons, and purchasing cannon production lines was normal.

After Shire left, Dejoka suddenly realized: "God, cannon production lines, producing cannons!"

He got up and rushed to the windowsill, trying to call Shire back, but Shire's car was already on the road, slowly driving away.

Dejoka felt a bit helpless. Producing cannons meant direct competition with Schneider, which would further intensify their conflict, as their existences could threaten each other's survival. The military often chose one cannon and abandoned the other.

However, looking at the car disappearing on the road, Dejoka thought, this day would come sooner or later, and it had to be faced.

...

After returning to Paris, Shire visited the City Defense Headquarters.

"How have you been lately, General?" Shire saluted Gallieni.

Gallieni glanced at Shire and put on an indifferent expression: "Of course, I'm very well!"

Major Fernan made a grimace on the side, and other staff officers smiled silently.

The fact was, without Shire around, Gallieni always felt something was missing. He often inexplicably felt irritable and restless, even his decades-long routine was disrupted, often unable to sleep at night and getting up to work, while during the day he was so tired he slept on his desk.

Major Fernan suggested to Gallieni: "Why don't we call Shire back? The police training base isn't far from here, when there's no war, he can manage both."

"No." Gallieni shook his head firmly: "He still needs to rely on himself, Major, this is his opportunity to temper himself."

Gallieni understood very well that leading a unit independently and commanding from the City Defense Headquarters were two very different things, even though they seemed similar.

Shire handed Gallieni a book: "I heard you've had trouble sleeping lately, perhaps this could pass the time instead of getting up to work."

It was Verne's "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea". Shire hoped Gallieni could immerse himself in another world and relax from the wartime state.

Gallieni was stunned for a moment, then rolled his eyes: "This is children's stuff, Brigadier, it only proves you haven't grown up!"

Although he said so, there was a smile at the corner of his eyes.

"Alright then!" Shire answered, placing the book on Gallieni's desk, then got to the point: "I received news, General, the Germans are planning to build a cannon, a super-range cannon. They intend to bombard Paris directly with it!"

Everyone froze, their shocked gazes unanimously turning to Shire, Gallieni included.