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

Chapter 269: Grevy's "Collaboration"

In Saint-Étienne, a city over 400 kilometers from Paris and the 14th most populated in France, Grevy sat alone in a corner seat at the Weber Café. Through the window, he watched the towering smokestacks outside, belching thick black clouds into the sky, sometimes with tiny sparks flickering like inky jets painting the sky a dull gray. Even the snow on the ground and rooftops was covered in fine, dark specks, adding to the somber atmosphere.

Everything here seemed bleak, even the suffocating air. Decades ago, Saint-Étienne had been a quiet town of only a few thousand. But with the advent of the Industrial Revolution, mineral deposits had been discovered here—especially coal, which brought an influx of energy, wealth, and prosperity. Metallurgy, mining, metalwork, and textiles had all boomed here, eventually establishing the city as home to France's largest armament factory.

Grevy glanced back at his coffee, suddenly noticing how much its color and bitter, burnt taste resembled the black smoke outside. Why hadn't he noticed this before? With a sigh, he placed the cup back on its saucer. He hadn't traveled over seven hours by train just for a cup of coffee.

"Not a fan of the coffee here?" Layom asked, sliding into the seat across from Grevy with a polite smile.

"No," Grevy replied, forcing a faint smile of his own. "I'm just... not used to this place." He gestured toward the smokestacks outside.

Layom nodded in understanding. "It takes time. It's not easy to get used to, I'll admit." After thanking the waiter for his own coffee, Layom looked back at Grevy, his gaze probing. "But, you don't seem like someone who needs to get used to this."

The question was clear: Why are you here, Grevy?

Grevy and Layom had crossed paths before. Back when Dominique was in high school, Grevy had helped him out several times, earning the gratitude of Layom, Dominique's older brother. Grevy stirred his coffee absently, though he didn't intend to drink it.

"You've probably heard about Charles and what he's been up to," Grevy said, not bothering with small talk. Layom, unlike his younger brother, was a shrewd businessman and the manager of Steed's factory operations here in Saint-Étienne.

"Of course." Layom's brows knit, suspecting Grevy had come to inquire about Charles' weapons projects. "Hand grenades, mortars, the 37mm cannon, aerial bombs…" Grevy shook his head with a faint, almost begrudging smile and a touch of respect in his eyes. "Impressive, isn't it?"

Layom's response was cold. "That's none of your concern, Grevy. If you're here hoping for information about those weapons, you'll be disappointed."

"No, no, you misunderstand." Grevy chuckled. "You know I don't care about any of that." Layom relaxed slightly, remembering that Grevy was well-known for opposing industrialization. In the daily grind of managing the factory, he had forgotten this.

"So then," Layom said, looking him in the eye, "you didn't come here just for a coffee, did you?"

Grevy's smile widened, and he replied slowly, "I came to discuss a possible collaboration with you, Mr. Layom."

"A collaboration?" Layom chuckled. "You and I, working together? Have you suddenly developed an interest in industry or military hardware?"

Grevy shook his head. "It seems you're unaware of the type of 'collaboration' your father is engaged in with Charles."

This caught Layom off guard. Steed hadn't told him much—only that Saint-Étienne would share fifty-fifty profits with Charles. That seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement.

"It's not as simple as you think, Layom." Grevy's tone took on a faintly mocking edge. "You realize, of course, that every piece of equipment Saint-Étienne produces now will, sooner or later, become obsolete—all of it. And what will replace these outdated products? Equipment invented by Charles."

Layom's eyes widened as the full implications dawned on him. Until now, he had been excited by Charles' creativity and the practicality of his inventions. But Grevy's words forced him to consider another side: if Charles retained fifty percent control over each invention's profits and if, in the future, everything the Saint-Étienne factory produced was invented by Charles, didn't that mean Charles would eventually have absolute influence over the factory?

"From what I understand," Grevy added, "your father wants exactly that. He's been thoroughly won over by Charles and hopes that Charles will one day lead Saint-Étienne. This is far from a simple business partnership…"

"No, that's impossible!" Layom snapped, cutting him off.

His father was a shrewd businessman; he wouldn't hand over the culmination of his life's work to an outsider, even if that outsider was Charles.

"It would be impossible with anyone else," Grevy replied, his voice cold, as though detailing Layom's inevitable future. "But this is Charles we're talking about, and you know the extent of his abilities. His genius seems limitless—he's a brilliant strategist and an inventor, with creativity that seems boundless."

Layom sat in silence, unable to deny the truth of Grevy's words.

No one could compete with Charles. While others sought profits by producing cannons, ships, or planes, Charles had merely packed explosives into metal shells to invent grenades, fulfilling the same dream but with profits exceeding those of battleships.

Grevy continued, "Your father obviously realizes he can't compete with Charles, so he's decided to become part of Charles' world. Or, to be more precise…"

Grevy paused deliberately, his tone dropping to a murmur, "To submit."

The word stung Layom's pride deeply, and he clenched his jaw in frustration. "Ridiculous! That's surrender without even a fight!"

Grevy knew then that he'd come to the right person. He had approached Dominique first, but he should have come to Layom all along.

As Steed's chosen successor to manage Saint-Étienne, Layom had a vested interest in the factory's future. Dominique, by contrast, cared only about his guns; he had no interest in the family legacy, nor did he see Charles as a threat to Saint-Étienne.

That, Grevy thought, was probably why Dominique had declined his earlier offer.

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