Chapter 19: Seizing and Scheming

Who would have thought that even in the 1940s, remnants of the 19th century could still exist?

The North Borneo Company — A corporation that ruled an entire territory, where the company itself was the law and the supreme authority.

Now, the company's current predicament had revealed an opportunity to Pierre.

If he could seize it, he could transform the company into his own domain.

But… could he truly grasp such a chance?

For a moment, Pierre's brow furrowed deeply, his expression growing somber.

A golden opportunity like this — if missed — would be a bitter regret indeed.

After all, buying the company would be easy; keeping it would be the true challenge.

"Sir, your assessment of the company is undoubtedly correct. At present, selling is the best option available to the board of the North Borneo Company.

However, as your legal counsel, my advice is this: you should not proceed with the acquisition. There's no telling whether the British government, after the war, might reclaim the company's land and assets."

Ian Thorpe, a royal barrister whose services cost a thousand pounds, could scarcely understand why anyone would covet this company at all.

"Then,"

Pierre countered calmly,

"Does the British government actually possess such authority?"

The question was deliberate.

After all, if he wanted to acquire the North Borneo Company, he would need a skilled intermediary — someone who could coordinate countless legal intricacies.

Thorpe pondered for a moment, then shook his head.

"From a legal standpoint, the British government has no direct authority to repossess the company's lands or property.

North Borneo was purchased in 1880 by British merchants — Dent and others — through acquiring shares from an American company.

Even after receiving a royal charter in 1881, it remained, by law, a private enterprise.

The company's ownership of Borneo's territory remains intact."

He adjusted his spectacles slightly and continued:

"However, the government does retain the right to revoke the company's royal charter.

If they do, Britain would withdraw any military or diplomatic protection, effectively exposing the company to external threats."

Such a gift from heaven!

Pierre almost laughed aloud.

What he had feared most was the British government reclaiming the colony directly — that would have ruined everything.

But now, unexpectedly, there was a silver lining: they could strip away protection without touching ownership.

"Exposure isn't an issue,"

Pierre said with a faint smile.

"As long as they can't reclaim the land, that's enough.

By the way — do they have the authority to block me from purchasing the company?"

At this, Ian Thorpe's voice took on a slight air of superiority — the assured tone of one accustomed to addressing colonial businessmen.

"Sir, you must understand — this is London, not the colonies.

Here, the rule of law prevails absolutely.

No one has the authority to prevent you from purchasing any company — not even the North Borneo Company — provided you deal with its owners."

He flipped through a dossier before him, adding:

"The board currently consists of five directors.

According to the company's internal rules, any motion can pass with the approval of just two directors.

Collectively, the five directors only control 48% of the shares.

The remaining 52% are scattered among more than 5,300 shareholders across Britain — many of them women, widows mostly, who inherited shares purchased before the Great War.

After the Japanese occupied North Borneo, these shares became effectively worthless — and yet, the bondholders continue demanding interest payments."

Although Thorpe couldn't fathom why anyone would be interested in a company doomed to fade from history, he still fulfilled his duty:

"My professional advice, sir: this is not the right time to buy. If you wait until next year — after the next round of bond interest demands arrives — they'll be desperate to rid themselves of their shares. In fact, they might be willing to hand them over for a pittance."

He closed the dossier with a snap and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"After the war, Britain's colonies will inevitably move toward self-government.

Companies like the North Borneo Company will not survive.

Their shares, already nearly worthless — priced at eighteen shillings before the war, now down to one shilling and threepence — will only fall further."

Leaning forward, Thorpe added:

"But when the time comes, if you still wish to proceed, I can help you acquire them for a fraction of their current value."

A fraction of the value?

How little, exactly, he didn't know — but it sounded promising enough.

Without delay, Pierre arranged to meet with White — one of the board members, and heir to 9% of the company's shares through his father.

Though not the largest shareholder, White was still one of the five major stakeholders.

He had spent many years managing the company — and he knew its situation inside and out.

The situation was simple:

The North Borneo Company was finished.

For decades, White had lived comfortably off dividends.

But after the outbreak of war, the golden days ended.

Dividends were taxed at 99.5%, paid late if at all.

And after the Japanese occupation, there were no dividends — only mounting obligations:

stockholders were legally bound to continue paying bond interest.

As a shareholder, White felt the pinch acutely.

He now studied the young Frenchman across from him, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Having lived in North Borneo and Singapore for over twenty years, he was no stranger to foreigners — but this one intrigued him.

"So,"

White said lazily,

"you're interested in the shares I hold."

Pierre allowed himself a cool smile.

"Mr. White," he said smoothly,

"I believe I can offer you a way out of an unfortunate situation."

He took a Lucky Strike from his gold cigarette case, offered one to White, then lit his own and inhaled slowly.

"Interest, you see, is a relative thing.

Merchants always have an eye for profit — but no merchant is interested in guaranteed losses."

He continued, voice steady:

"As you know, the Colonial Office itself acknowledges that after the war, self-government will be imposed across the colonies.

Which means that the North Borneo Company's days of rule are numbered."

White gave him a sidelong glance, took a deep drag on his cigarette, and replied indifferently:

"Mr. Pierre, you speak as though the company's demise is inevitable.

But when the war ends, we will reclaim what is ours."

Pierre smiled thinly.

"Reclaim what, Mr. White?

A proud domain… reduced to rubble?"