"No!"
Upon hearing Marmont's order, the factory owner seemed to lose all strength and collapsed to the ground, completely despairing. If it weren't for the soldiers surrounding him, he might have tried to escape.
"Wait a moment!" Just as the soldiers closed in to arrest the factory owner, Roland suddenly spoke up to stop them.
"Jobs, you're Jobs, aren't you?" Roland grabbed the factory owner, who was staring at him in surprise, and looked him directly in the face, asking excitedly.
"You... you're Roland!" After a brief moment of panic, the factory owner recognized Roland and was equally shocked.
"Jobs, what are you doing here? Weren't you in the military?"
One of life's greatest joys is meeting an old friend in a foreign land. Jobs was delighted to see his long-lost friend. Since the Battle of Markenne Village, Roland had applied for early graduation and later followed Napoleon to fight in Egypt. It had been three or four years since they last saw each other.
During this time, both had changed significantly. Thanks to the harsh life in the military, Roland had become more robust and mature. Meanwhile, Jobs had gained a lot of weight, making it hard for them to recognize each other at first.
"Jobs, come with me," Roland said, pulling Jobs aside.
...
"Jobs, is this factory yours? Are you... are you Jewish?" In a corner near the factory, Roland questioned Jobs.
"Yes!" Jobs nodded, confirming it.
"Aren't you supposed to be in military school? How did you end up as a businessman?" Roland asked, puzzled by Jobs' drastic change.
"Sigh!" Jobs sighed deeply at Roland's question.
"Don't ask, Roland. Shortly after you graduated, it was discovered that I was Jewish. Combined with my poor academic performance, I was expelled from the military school," Jobs said bitterly. If it had been anyone else, they might not have been expelled, but his Jewish identity made him too sensitive a target.
---
"That's how it is."
Roland could understand this situation. After all, Jews didn't have a country, let alone an army. Under such circumstances, it was indeed suspicious for them to be in military school.
Given the current chaotic state of French society, with spies everywhere, it was a stroke of luck that Jobs was only expelled and not arrested as a spy.
"So what are you doing now? Running a factory?" Roland asked with concern.
"Yes, after being expelled from the military school, I had nothing to do. So, I asked my father for some money and opened a factory in Paris. What do you think of my factory? I invested nearly six million francs in it," Jobs nodded and then proudly pointed to the factory as he spoke to Roland.
"Six million francs? Your father just gave it to you? I had no idea your family was so wealthy."
Hearing the number, Roland's mouth nearly dropped open wide enough to swallow an egg. No wonder people said Jews were rich; this was quite the extravagant sum.
Currently, Roland's monthly salary was only about two hundred francs. This meant that Jobs' "pocket money" would take him two thousand five hundred years of work without spending a cent to accumulate. At that moment, Roland truly felt the difference between them.
"By the way, Roland, enough about me. What about you? What have you been up to lately? What brings you to my factory?"
"Well... as you know, I joined the army and have made it to the rank of major," Roland replied, evading the main question. He couldn't bring himself to tell his friend that his superior had an eye on the factory and planned to fabricate charges to seize it.
"Roland, was that your superior just now? He seemed interested in my factory," Jobs pointed out, though Roland had tried to avoid the topic.
"Jobs, to be honest, are you... interested in selling your factory?" Roland asked hesitantly. For the smooth production of rifles and his future plans, Roland was genuinely considering building his own arsenal.
---
But now, the factory belonged to his friend, putting Roland in a difficult position. He couldn't bring himself to frame his friend for a crime and seize the factory as Napoleon would. His conscience wouldn't allow it.
"That depends on who's asking. If it's you, I'd be willing to sell it. I'd even give it to you for free," Jobs shrugged, a carefree smile on his face.
He wasn't a fool. He could tell that the officials who came to the factory were interested in it. Given that, he'd rather give the factory to his good friend than to them.
"No, no, Jobs, you misunderstand me. I would never do such a thing," Roland quickly explained. "I do have some projects that require a factory, but I would never take my friend's factory by force. If it came to that, I'd rather not pursue it."
A man must have principles, and Roland would never harm his friend under any circumstances.
"No, Roland, you misunderstand me. I'm not testing you. I genuinely consider giving you the factory," Jobs said, stepping closer to Roland with a sincere look. "To be honest, I'm tired. My factory in Paris isn't running smoothly. If I handed it over to you, I'd be okay with that."
There were too many influential people in Paris, each one more powerful than the last. He couldn't afford to offend them, nor could he avoid them. Knowing he was alone and without support, people frequently came to "inspect" his factory, extorting money from him afterwards. He had long been fed up with it.
Moreover, the government's inspections of steel products had become increasingly stringent, making his business harder to sustain. If not for the fear of being ridiculed by his people for returning home in disgrace, Jobs would have given up long ago. Marmont's inspection today was merely the last straw.
"Jobs, you've suffered."
Seeing Jobs' blank expression, Roland felt a pang of sympathy. Jobs had always been carefree, always cheerful. But now, he was filled with the resignation of an adult.
Seeing him like this, Roland felt immense heartache and wanted to do something to help him.
---
"Help him?" An idea suddenly flashed in Roland's mind.
He wanted to open an armory, which didn't conflict with Jobs' situation. They could cooperate! Jobs had an existing factory, and Roland had the technical expertise. It would be mutually beneficial.
This way, Jobs wouldn't be forced to return home. After all, six million francs was no small amount. If Jobs went back in disgrace, it would be hard to justify.
"Jobs, you don't have to go back. We can work together," Roland said excitedly. He was thrilled to have thought of a win-win solution.
"Work together? How?" Jobs asked, puzzled.
"Look at these blueprints. I originally planned to build an armory with the government here. But now, we can include you in the project!" Roland handed the blueprints to Jobs and spoke to him excitedly. "I heard your factory used to produce cannons. That's excellent. We just need to retool your factory to produce military equipment."
"Turn it into an armory? How could that be possible? The government wouldn't agree. They keep a strict watch on me, just waiting for an opportunity to arrest me!" Jobs responded, skeptical.