Chapter 181: The German Tanks

Chapter 181: The German Tanks

At the Blédère Estate, Francis appeared in the parlor dressed in a brand-new suit, radiating self-assurance. He strode into the room with his chest puffed out, nodding to the others. "Good day, Mr. Grevy, Mr. Armand. I hope I haven't kept you waiting!" He barely waited for a response before sprawling onto the sofa, accepting a glass of wine from a servant.

Armand's eyes flashed with irritation—this fool was getting ahead of himself. Grevy, meanwhile, remained unimpressed, his gaze fixed on his Merit Report without a flicker of acknowledgment. To Grevy, Francis was merely someone who wore his emotions on his sleeve, a man who, when granted even a slight advantage, overestimated his own worth—a man incapable of any real success.

Oblivious to their reactions, Francis sipped his wine, a confident smile on his face. "Gentlemen, the situation is thus: he wants to reach a consensus with us."

"Us?" Armand scoffed, the tone full of mockery. Here Francis referred to Schneider, but by now, he was part of Schneider's group—what did he mean by "us"?

"Yes, us," Francis replied, raising his glass to them as if he was still one of their "brothers-in-arms."

What Francis didn't realize was that these supposed "brothers" had long ceased to see him as their equal.

"The cooperation he proposes is as follows," Francis continued, his tone smug. "He wants us to support the return of the Saint-Chamond tank to the battlefield…"

Grevy cut him off with a cold tone. "That won't be easy, Francis. Everyone knows that the Saint-Chamond tank is no match for the battlefield—it has already proven itself a failure."

"True," Francis replied smoothly. "But we have parliament, gentlemen, and with him alongside us, we could certainly achieve a majority…"

Grevy made a noncommittal noise. "But parliament cannot make decisions entirely against the public's will. People have accepted Charles' tank. Everyone wants to increase orders of the Mark I, not the Saint-Chamond. If we force through the Saint-Chamond… you know what will happen?"

Armand smiled wryly, stepping in. "Strikes, protests, possibly even military intervention. Then parliament would be under fire, and certain members might even lose their seats. I doubt he is prepared for that."

"Precisely, gentlemen!" Francis replied confidently. "But what if we had a reasonable justification?"

Armand crossed one leg over the other, gesturing grandly for Francis to continue. "Let's hear his 'justification.'"

Francis heard the irony in Armand's tone, and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, he's made some improvements to the Saint-Chamond, including the engine and armor thickness, and even found a way to improve its trench-crossing ability."

Grevy finally looked up from his newspaper to cast a brief glance at Francis. "But that's hardly enough to sway the public. Charles' tank has proven itself on the battlefield. People will wonder why we should spend on something that has already failed, even if it's 'improved.'"

"True, sir," Francis nodded, "but they anticipated that. They have a reason—a perfect reason."

Grevy gestured for him to continue, seemingly interested.

"The Germans' tanks, Mr. Grevy," Francis said, leaning in with an air of secrecy and excitement. "If the Germans have developed their own tanks—ones specifically designed to counter the Mark I, and even armed with artillery instead of just machine guns, while Charles' tank has only machine guns—then…"

Grevy understood immediately. It was a clever maneuver: people would worry that Charles' tank couldn't stand up to a German tank. With simple logic, they'd imagine the Mark I machine gun failing to penetrate enemy armor, while German tanks blasted away at the Mark I with artillery rounds.

Amused, Armand asked, "Are the Germans really developing tanks?"

Francis smiled cryptically. "Perhaps, or perhaps not."

It hardly mattered whether they were or not. The key was simply to suggest a "threat." If the public believed that a superior German tank existed, then Charles' tank would seem outdated. The Saint-Chamond could then logically receive renewed orders and find its way back to the battlefield.

Grevy smiled, satisfied that Schneider hadn't disappointed him. The strategy was subtle and effective. By casually planting a "rumor" and exaggerating the enemy threat, Schneider could leverage public fear to turn a losing situation into a victory, securing the Saint-Chamond's return to the front.

The brilliance of it was that the rumor was plausible. The Germans wouldn't sit idly by; after witnessing the Mark I's impact, they would undoubtedly be working on a countermeasure. If not, they'd be helpless against repeated breakthroughs of their front lines.

Thus, it wouldn't even be a rumor. Rather, it was valuable intelligence for France—a flawless strategy.

After a moment's thought, Grevy asked, "So what benefit is there for us?"

"CA-1 tanks," Francis answered, "He's willing to support our own CA-1 project. He'll supply improved engines, offering more horsepower, and make key design adjustments."

Armand's eyebrows raised in interest. With the defection of Colonel Estini and Francis' tractor factory now under Schneider, the CA-1 tank project had all but been abandoned. With Schneider's support, perhaps the CA-1 could be revived.

But Grevy, without a second thought, declined. "I'm not interested."

Stunned, Francis stared at him. "But Mr. Grevy, this is a tank—we could still consider…"

"And," Grevy interrupted icily, "tell him to send someone else."

Francis froze, fear flickering in his eyes.

He immediately grasped the implication: if Grevy no longer wished to deal with him, his role as Schneider's intermediary to the Right would vanish. He'd become nothing more than a pawn Schneider might cast aside at any time.

Desperate, Francis stammered, "I… I apologize, Mr. Grevy, Mr. Armand!" He swallowed hard, glancing between the two men with a look of panic. "Please believe me—I'm on your side! I've done my best to secure our interests…"

Armand gave him a mocking smile, satisfied that Francis finally seemed to understand his place.

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