Chapter 114 - The Belmondo Family

Chapter 114 - The Belmondo Family

Francis observed the man's expression closely: proud, disdainful, dismissive—a look that made clear he didn't want to say more than was necessary. A true aristocrat, no doubt; Grevy and Armand wore the same look.

"And you are…?" Francis asked carefully, bending slightly in respect.

"Vartan," the nobleman replied as he held his coffee. "Vartan Belmondo."

The name didn't immediately register with Francis, but the servant beside the old nobleman added softly, "We come from Algeria, sir."

Francis's mind exploded with recognition. The Belmondo family of Algeria? The ones who owned multiple plantations and practically controlled the coffee market there?

"I apologize for not recognizing you sooner, Mr. Vartan!" Francis hurried forward to shake his hand, clearly nervous. "Can I perhaps offer you some wine?"

"No need, Mr. Francis," Vartan replied after taking a whiff of the coffee and setting it down. "This is quite enough—a familiar taste."

Francis felt a stroke of luck. He had always served Algerian coffee; perhaps fortune was smiling on him today.

Vartan cut to the chase. "Let's get to business, shall we? I've heard you have quite a few tractors in storage."

"Yes, yes, indeed!" Francis nodded enthusiastically.

"Excellent." Vartan relaxed into the sofa, crossed his legs, and draped his right arm along the backrest. "I happen to need tractors."

"May I ask how many you'll require?" Francis asked, cautiously probing.

"How many do you have?" Vartan responded, turning the question back.

Feeling confident, Francis replied, "We have 1,800 units, sir!"

He thought this would be more than enough to satisfy Vartan, but the man merely raised an eyebrow. "It's not that many, but it might be sufficient."

Francis was taken aback. Did this mean Vartan intended to buy all of them? My God—1,800 units, nearly two million francs in total! This could be the biggest sale he had ever made.

Still, Francis kept his wits about him. Years of business experience taught him that the bigger the deal, the more cautious one needed to be to avoid getting swindled.

"Mr. Vartan," Francis feigned surprise as he subtly probed, "surely that many tractors would be enough to plow all of Algeria?"

Vartan's face darkened slightly, a trace of irritation in his eyes. "France has drafted over a hundred thousand soldiers from Algeria, forcing us to consider mechanization."

Francis immediately understood: plantation owners faced labor shortages due to the draft, so they needed machinery to fill the gap, unlike the general public, who feared conscription and were hesitant to invest in tractors.

"And Algeria is far from Paris," Vartan continued. "I believe there will be plenty who'd prefer to purchase directly from me rather than make the journey themselves."

Francis nodded, realizing that Vartan saw an opportunity to act as a middleman. No wonder Charles's tractor factory couldn't meet his needs; it lacked the capacity to supply such a large volume and maintain a stockpile. Algeria didn't necessarily require the latest tractors; they simply needed equipment to get the job done.

"If you're not interested…" Vartan moved as if to leave.

"No, no, Mr. Vartan!" Francis quickly assured him. "I'm definitely interested. I apologize for the delay!"

Remembering that Vartan had just come from Charles's factory, Francis hesitated only briefly before quoting a cautious price. "1,100 francs per unit, sir. That's our most competitive rate."

Vartan chuckled lightly. "That's the same price Charles is offering, Mr. Francis. Given the choice, do you think I'd pick the 'Holt 60' over the 'Holt 75' for the same price?"

Damn it! Francis cursed internally. At this price, he'd barely make a profit of 130 francs per unit.

But now wasn't the time to worry about profits. The priority was to sell the inventory, free up capital, and focus on producing his new line of tanks.

"1,000 francs per unit, sir!" Francis revised quickly. "That's as low as we can go—we've never sold this cheaply before, I assure you!"

Vartan seemed somewhat agreeable to this price, nodding slightly.

Francis was secretly elated. The old aristocrat must not know he was desperate to sell.

After a brief pause, Vartan added, "If I were to pay the full amount upfront, could the price be lowered further?"

Francis's eyes widened in surprise and delight. Payment in full? That was unheard of—nearly 1.8 million francs, all at once! Truly, a man of aristocratic means.

Any lingering doubt Francis harbored vanished. A scammer would never offer full payment. They would instead make excuses to delay payment, then try to dodge their debts.

A straightforward, cash-up-front deal—what could possibly go wrong?

Francis eagerly accepted, "Certainly, sir! In that case, 980 francs per unit!"

Vartan didn't seem overly concerned with the modest discount, giving a slight nod as if mildly dissatisfied but not wanting to waste time. "Very well… Let's see the contract, Mr. Francis."

Francis could barely contain his excitement. With one signature, his entire inventory would be sold! Could this be divine providence smiling upon the Francis family?

As he went to fetch the contract, he glanced out the window and spotted Joseph talking to Vartan's servant near the carriage. Joseph's expression was earnest, almost desperate.

Francis silently cursed. It appeared that Charles's tractor factory wasn't ready to give up this lucrative contract.

Indeed, the servant soon hurried inside to whisper something to Vartan, who looked intrigued. "Is that so?"

"Yes, sir," the servant replied, casting a quick look toward the window. "Mr. Joseph is waiting outside and wishes to discuss things further with you."

Francis shot Joseph a glare that could melt glass. Traitor! Not only had Joseph betrayed him, but now he was actively trying to steal his customers.

Of course, Francis kept his composure and quickly assured Vartan, "They won't be able to meet your needs, Mr. Vartan. His factory just opened; they can only produce a few dozen units each month!"

"But they're planning to expand production to guarantee 100 units a month," Vartan replied. "And their price is only 1,000 francs per unit. How is that different from your offer of 980 francs?"

Francis clenched his teeth, realizing Charles was bent on driving his tractor factory to the brink, sacrificing profits just to beat him in a price war.

"900 francs," Francis said through gritted teeth. "If you agree, we'll sign the contract immediately."

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