I was a tycoon in World War I: Starting to save France

Chapter 16: Small Daily

Dinner was white bean stewed with beef, which used to be Charles' favorite, but now he thought it was just ordinary. He thought it should be cooked with some peppercorns, chili peppers, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce...

Mom Camille was in the kitchen, humming a song while cutting vegetables.

Dejoka said to Charles while chewing his beef:

"Your mother has never been happier!"

Camille brought a plate of fruit and placed it on the table. He then brought his own beef stew and sat between the two of them. He said proudly:
"Shouldn't we be happy? Our Ciel has become a hero!"

Djoka's eyes were full of smiles, and he looked at Charles:

"I'm a little curious, Ciel, how did you come up with that thing called a tank?"

"It's very simple!" Charles answered while dealing with the food on the plate, "I just wanted something to block the bullets in front of me. We happened to have a tractor, so I thought of doing this!"

Deyoka nodded slightly. It did sound simple, but every new thing was in the darkness of the unknown before it was invented, so it was not simple.

Camille patted Charles' head lovingly: "Charles is a genius, only he can think of this!"

At this moment, she only had eyes for Charles.

She felt that the whole world had changed. Only she could understand the Bernard family's exclusion, the townspeople's indifference towards them, and the bitterness of being caught in the middle.

Now, all of that is gone!
It was all because of Charles, her son!
Djokovic thought about a problem and said to Camille: "Tomorrow we should go see our father..."

Camille nodded decisively: "Of course!"

In Camille's opinion, Charles had made such a great contribution, and Francis should undoubtedly recognize Charles and even their family, and even hand over the tractor factory to Charles with confidence.

But there was a hint of worry in Djoka's eyes. He knew his father. His father was a controlling man with a strong self-esteem. He enjoyed the feeling of being high above others and being praised by others. He did not like people and things that were out of his control, and he did not like anyone surpassing him, especially family members.

Charles is indeed excellent, but he is too excellent. Now his popularity has overshadowed Francis, which is not a good thing!

Charles seemed to see through Djoka's thoughts. He comforted him, "Don't worry, father! Before we go to see Mr. Francis, I think we should go to Paris first!"

"Paris?" Djokovic was confused for a moment, but he quickly understood and nodded slightly to show his agreement.

……

The Paris City Hall building is located on the banks of the Seine River, north of Notre Dame in the center of Paris.

The original building was burned down in the war during the Paris Commune Revolution in 1871. The current building was rebuilt and completed in 1882.

The building retains the style of the European Renaissance, with flat pyramid-shaped roofs arranged in an orderly manner. There are 136 statues on the walls of the building, all of which are famous people from French history.

It was already ten o'clock in the morning when Djokovic and Charles walked into the office area. People were coming and going in the huge office, the noise of telephones and typewriters was heard one after another, and someone seemed to be arguing with the staff over tax issues.

In comparison, the window for handling industrial property rights is quite deserted.

"Industrial property" is the modern "invention patent". Most inventions during this period were brought about by industrial production. In order to distinguish it from literary and artistic property rights (copyright), "industrial property" was established.

Sitting behind the window was a middle-aged man with a Mediterranean appearance. He was wearing glasses and sitting on a chair with his legs crossed. He was reading the "Little Daily" and drinking coffee leisurely, with a lewd smile on his face from time to time.

Anyone who understands understands.

At that time in France, the "Petite Journal" was called "a sou newspaper", which means "a penny newspaper". In order to attract the reading of the middle and lower classes of society, these newspapers often published vulgar and soft-core articles.

"Hello, sir!" Deyoka leaned over to the window and said politely, "We are here to apply for industrial property rights!"

The Mediterranean uncle glanced at Djoka, leaned over impatiently, took a form and handed it to him, and immediately focused his attention on the newspaper. Djoka filled out the form carefully, asking Charles for his opinion from time to time, while the Mediterranean uncle completely ignored the two of them, took a sip of coffee, turned the newspaper over and continued to look for new "highlights".

Charles was surprised to find that the front-page headline of the "Little Daily" was: "Tractor Saves France".

The article also comes with a cartoon-style illustration of a tractor converted into a "tank." Although it is inconsistent with the facts, it looks realistic.

This is the main reason why "Little Daily" only needs one Su. It does not require reporters to be present on the scene to interview, but only needs to draw things based on imagination.

Soon the form was filled out. Djokovic and Charles were both unsure whether it was filled out correctly. They had no experience. Djokovic lowered his head and handed the form in through the window, saying:
"Sir, do you think this is appropriate?"

The Mediterranean uncle hummed, put down his coffee and took the form. He was still reluctant to put down the newspaper. It seemed that he could do two things at the same time: reading the newspaper and reviewing the form.

However, Ciel still underestimated his professional ability. He only glanced at the form and froze as if frozen:
"tank?"

He cast his gaze towards Djokovic, then looked doubtfully at Charles, who was only slightly taller than the bar, and asked with difficulty:
"From... Darvaz, Monsieur Charles?"

Charles nodded.

"Yes, I'm Ciel!"

The Mediterranean uncle stood up suddenly, nervously flipped through the newspaper to take a look at the headline, then hurriedly put the newspaper down and rummaged around on the desk for a while before finding a pen and a notebook, while saying:

"God! I am so sorry, Monsieur Charles, and this..."

The Mediterranean uncle turned his attention to Djokovic.

"Djoka!" Djoka introduced himself with pride on his face: "I am his father!"

Djokovic looked at Charles meaningfully, as if to say, it seems that your affairs have spread to Paris.

Charles shrugged slightly. Darvaz was only a dozen kilometers away from Paris, and Paris was a political, economic and transportation center. If the news had not reached here within a day, it would be news that did not need to be spread.

"Mr. Djoka!" The Mediterranean uncle walked out of the side door in two steps. He seemed to have changed his previous casualness. He shook hands with Djoka and Charles respectfully and in high spirits, then stepped aside and gestured to the VIP room: "This way, please, gentlemen!"

The VIP room has sofas, coffee tables, safes, and several pots of irises that symbolize light and freedom.

Charles felt it was a bit ironic. Only VIPs could enjoy the light and freedom? Otherwise, they would only have to face the sullen faces of the staff at the counter?

The Mediterranean uncle came in after a while, holding two cups of coffee:

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. My name is Manuel, and I'm honored to help you with the industrial property rights."

The Mediterranean uncle took out the form filled out by Djokovic and carefully placed it on the table: "There is basically no problem with the form, but it is best to publish the ownership in the newspaper, so that the date can be marked. In case of any disputes in the future, it will be a good evidence!"

"Is that it?" Charles was a little surprised. No need to search?
"Yes!" The Mediterranean uncle nodded: "Except for some details!"

Later, Charles learned that France at that time did not conduct searches for industrial property rights, and if there was any duplication or theft, it could only be resolved through litigation.

That's why the Mediterranean uncle suggested to publish the advertisement in the newspaper in order to leave more direct, more powerful and unforgeable evidence.

The Mediterranean uncle chatted with Djoka about the details in a disjointed manner, and Charles had a feeling that he was stalling for time.

Charles' guess was correct. Ten minutes later, a middle-aged man in a suit and a round-brimmed hat appeared at the door of the VIP room in a hurry, leaning on a cane.

"Let me introduce you!" The Mediterranean uncle couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he saw the middle-aged man: "This is Mr. Bonnet, the owner of the Little Daily. He wants to talk to you about the purchase of the property rights of the "Tank"!"

Djokovic's face changed, and he realized that he was being deliberately held back by the Mediterranean uncle.

Charles hummed in his heart. A member of the Two Hundred Family showed up so soon!
(End of this chapter)