Chapter 572: This is Your Order
That day, Charles and Djoka stayed up late discussing matters before returning home.
Djoka had no objections to Joseph being sent to the United States to develop military industries. Joseph’s abilities and loyalty had already been proven at the tractor factory.
Joseph was known for his approachable demeanor with subordinates. He managed the company in an orderly fashion and also possessed exceptional social skills. He always seemed to know how to interact with different people and handled relationships effectively.
This latter skill, perhaps, stemmed from his years as a steward. It was said that he could gauge someone’s personality, temperament, and preferences at a glance.
Djoka’s lingering doubts lay in the strategic direction of expanding military industries in America, although he had decided to trust Charles.
Later that evening, in the car ride home, Charles felt compelled to share a piece of information with Djoka. “Father, you’re aware of Kaiser Wilhelm II’s recent proposal for ‘peace talks,’ aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Djoka adjusted the windshield wiper and quickly glanced at Charles, seated beside him. “But what does that have to do with military industries in America?”
“There’s significant public support for private negotiations,” Charles said. “But Parliament rejected the notion, and so did Britain.”
“Indeed.” Djoka steered the car around a corner. “People are weary of this war, but Parliament believes it’s a German ploy to buy time.”
More than just a stalling tactic, rumors suggested that the Germans intended to negotiate with the Anglo-French forces, thereby freeing their hands to focus on Russia. Once Russia was defeated, they could then turn back to declare war on Britain and France.
“It’s the Americans’ doing,” Charles replied calmly. “The Americans don’t want this war to end.”
Djoka was startled. His hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel, causing the car to lurch.
“For loans, Father,” Charles explained. “Only by completely defeating the Germans and securing reparations can the Americans recover their loans.”
Djoka was silent for a moment, then nodded faintly. “So, the Americans are bound to enter the war?”
“Yes.” Charles tightened his military overcoat and answered, “The Americans won’t let the Allies lose. If Russia collapses or the balance tips in Germany’s favor, they will surely intervene.”
When lobbying the American president, financiers put it bluntly: “Mr. President, we all know that if the loans to Europe turn into bad debt, even God will have to leave this place.”
In other words, if the money wasn’t recovered, the president wouldn’t stay in office. Furious citizens would drive him out.
The American president had no choice. He had to join the financiers in promoting the necessity of war and send American soldiers to an irrelevant Western Front.
Djoka remained silent.
Only then did he realize that Charles had a much deeper understanding of the situation than he did. Charles could foresee future developments based on the present, and his predictions were entirely logical—as if he already knew these events would occur.
...
The car pulled up to their home. Djoka held an umbrella to shield Charles as they got out.
When they hurried inside, they were surprised to find Camille in lively conversation with a woman.
Charles took a closer look and saw it was Lucia. He suddenly remembered that today was the day to “meet the parents.”
Camille scolded them lightly, “I told you to come back early. You must have forgotten!”
Lucia stepped forward gracefully, shaking hands with Djoka as she introduced herself. “Hello, Uncle. I’m Lucia.”
“Hello!” Djoka gave Lucia a once-over and smiled approvingly at Charles, seemingly complimenting his taste.
Camille brought out the prepared dinner, which included turkey, smoked fish, and white bean stew with beef.
While setting the dishes, Camille pointed out to Charles, “The white bean stew was made by Lucia. Want to try it?”
Charles felt a twinge of unease and glanced at Lucia.
That was a dish the former “Charles” had loved. How did she know?
However, Charles dismissed the thought. It could have been a coincidence, or perhaps Camille had prepared the dish and Lucia had merely helped.
But what happened next only deepened Charles’s unease.
“See these earrings?” Camille said, tilting her head to show Djoka her earrings as she sat at the table. “They’re almost identical to the ones I lost before. Unbelievable.”
“Oh, Uncle.” Lucia took a box from her bag and leaned across the table to hand it to Djoka. “This is for you.”
“Thank you,” Djoka said politely.
When he opened the box, he found a pocket watch. Startled, he looked at Lucia. “What a coincidence. You might not believe this, but my pocket watch broke a few days ago. I’ve been so busy with work I haven’t had time to buy a new one. This is exactly what I needed!”
“Really?” Lucia responded with a smile. “What a coincidence.”
Charles placed his knife and fork on his plate with a loud clink.
“What’s wrong?” Camille asked, puzzled.
Djoka also looked at Charles, his expression confused.
Lucia seemed to sense something. Her smile faltered momentarily but quickly returned.
“Nothing,” Charles said, masking his discomfort. “I’m just a bit tired.”
The dinner felt somewhat subdued—or rather, Charles found himself unable to engage. Lucia, Djoka, and Camille chatted and laughed, and Lucia seemed well-acquainted with their personalities and preferences—even Charles’s.
However, Charles knew what that implied.
...
The rain drizzled down, accompanied by a cold wind.
After dinner, Charles drove Lucia back to Paris. They sat in silence for most of the journey, with Lucia gazing at the rain through the window, occasionally reaching out to catch a droplet. She softly hummed a tune.
“You seem quite pleased with yourself,” Charles said coldly.
“Why?” Lucia countered, not turning her head. “Are you dissatisfied with my performance today?”
“You used the same tactics for dealing with enemies on my family,” Charles replied.
Lucia was silent for a moment before she began to laugh, her tone icy. “You seem to forget, this was your order, General.”
“My order?” Charles was taken aback.
“Yes,” Lucia said. “Domestic life or duty—you chose duty.”
She turned to look at Charles. “Since it’s a mission, don’t you think I should use some tricks?”
“For example, I needed to know what they liked to ensure their approval.”
“Otherwise, wouldn’t it mean the mission failed?”
Charles had no response. It seemed he had overlooked this aspect.
“From now on, stop gathering information about them,” Charles said.
“Yes, General,” Lucia replied, before resuming her humming.
Her song sounded light and pleasant but carried an inexplicable sorrow.