Chapter 162: Borrowing a Blade to Kill

Chapter 162: Borrowing a Blade to Kill

The news of victory reached the Paris Defense Headquarters, yet no one seemed to react with the fervor one might expect. When Colonel Fernand took the call, he merely looked up from his desk and addressed General Gallieni, who was studying the current battlefield map. "General, the Germans have surrendered. We have successfully reclaimed Lafoux," Fernand said in a calm voice. Those nearby only nodded quietly, as if the outcome had been foreseen.

Gallieni merely replied with a brief "Hm," his gaze still fixed on the map. Unlike Joffre's command center, which had been in the dark about the battle's progress, the Defense Headquarters had been following every movement on the front line, on the ground and in the air. They had watched as Charles executed his plan with calculated precision, each step surprising yet also exactly as expected. It didn't feel like a battle; it felt more like layers of wrapping being removed one by one, each unveiling a more brilliant stroke, so that before the mystery was fully revealed, everyone knew the result was inevitable.

With a steady hand, Gallieni planted a tricolor flag on Lafoux's position on the map and turned to Charles, who was stifling a yawn nearby. "Didn't sleep well last night?" he asked.

"No," Charles replied with some irritation. "There's a pack of stray cats near my house, and they kept making strange noises all night."

A few people chuckled. They'd assumed Charles had lost sleep due to anticipation of the battle, but it turned out he'd just been kept awake by cats! It seemed stray cats were more of a nuisance to Charles than Lafoux itself. Perhaps, for him, winning a battle was no more than a game.

Gallieni said nothing more, heading back to his desk and retrieving a small box from a drawer. "Your reward for this victory, Lieutenant," he announced, handing it to Charles.

Charles accepted it eagerly but was visibly disappointed upon opening it. "The Order of the Crown? I already have this!" he complained.

"Yes," Gallieni replied with a nod, "but this one is from me. Not satisfied? I could return it to Albert I and tell him you declined it."

Charles rolled his eyes. Typical Gallieni—stingy as ever, using someone else's award as a gift. Just then, cheers erupted outside as a crowd gathered to celebrate the victory and chant Charles's name.

Meanwhile, at Armand's estate, Grevy, Francis, and several others had gathered as soon as they heard Charles's forces had launched an offensive. They hadn't expected that before their "conspiring" could even conclude, Charles would already secure victory.

"Smart man," Armand said with a smile, not hiding his admiration. "He managed to fool every one of us."

He glanced at Grevy, implying that this included him. Grevy had been the one to pass information to the German intelligence agents, though of course he'd done it in a way no one would ever suspect him. Grevy remained silent, sipping his wine as though none of this concerned him.

"What should we do now?" Francis asked, visibly rattled. "At this rate, our tanks are doomed!"

"What can we do?" Grevy responded.

The room fell into silence. It was too late to act now. Charles had already revealed the truth, and the CA-1 tank's time had clearly run out.

Armand gave a small, self-mocking laugh. "Maybe we never should have sent him into the military. That seems to have worked out all too well for him."

Grevy was starting to regret it too. But who could have known Charles possessed such military talent and would shine so brightly in the army? At the time, everyone had believed Paris had been saved by Francis.

Grevy cast a mocking glance at Francis, who looked increasingly panicked.

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, Francis looked up with a flash of realization in his eyes. "By the way," he said, looking around, "do you all know who's been helping Charles at his tractor factory, assisting with military tactics? It's Astonie, our tank designer!"

Grevy's expression changed. He leaned forward, his face blank. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely!" Francis replied. "Astonie's a rare sight, so at first we only noticed Bronnie. But eventually, my informants realized Astonie was there as well, and it seems Charles values him highly."

It wasn't that Astonie had rarely shown himself, Francis thought bitterly; rather, his informants simply hadn't recognized him. Only after an accidental mention of a "Colonel of Artillery" did the pieces fall into place.

"Interesting," Armand murmured with a slight smile. "It seems Colonel Astonie has betrayed us. Well then…"

Armand didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood his point: Grevy's hope of competing with Charles in tank development had now completely crumbled.

Grevy nodded slightly, acknowledging this. He'd known for some time he likely couldn't match Charles in this field; it was Charles's forte. Charles was a genius. It was a harsh truth, but facts were facts. They'd invested so much money and effort into tank development, pinning high hopes on it, only to be easily defeated by Charles's ingenuity.

But Grevy wasn't ready to surrender. After a moment of contemplation, he said thoughtfully, "Perhaps we got one thing wrong."

"Oh?" Armand asked with a wry smile. "Just one thing? Haven't we lost across the board?"

Grevy replied, "Initially, we assumed Schneider was the strongest and thought we should ally with Charles."

Armand nodded. "In reality, Charles was the most formidable. We just didn't know it."

"Exactly," Grevy continued, "and Schneider didn't know it either, which led to the current situation."

"So what?" Armand retorted. "Are you suggesting we ally with Schneider now?"

Such a move was almost impossible. Schneider represented the Left and big capital. Forming an alliance with him would render the Right irrelevant—an option no one in the Right would ever consider.

"Of course not," Grevy replied, turning his gaze to Francis. "But Schneider might be interested in the tractor production lines and technology."

Francis's eyes lit up, and he nodded in agreement. Schneider's tanks used an electric-drive engine; he might very well be interested in switching to a conventional engine. Buying Holt's tractor production lines and technology could help him make the transition quickly.

Armand immediately understood what Grevy meant: he was suggesting Francis make an alliance with Schneider. More importantly, this would divert Charles's attention towards Schneider. If necessary, Grevy could even stoke the rivalry between them further.

It was a clever plan—using a borrowed knife to kill, with Schneider's resources directed against Charles.

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