I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 743: An Excellent Opportunity

In the early morning, Paris was shrouded in a thick fog, as if it had lightly rained. The Eiffel Tower loomed in and out of view, like a tireless guardian vigilantly watching over the city.

Not far from it, the atmosphere in the Prime Minister’s office at the Town Hall was tense and oppressive.

Clemenceau was discussing the victory at the Meuse River with Briand while holding a newspaper.

"He actually succeeded!" Clemenceau shook his head in amazement.

He didn’t say much more, only silently admiring Shire’s strength.

Shire had triumphed over the enemy despite the constraints of Parliament, with even some members betraying intelligence to the enemy. The government had tried to hold him back out of fear, but none of it could stop Shire from achieving victory.

And this was not just any victory. He had recaptured a vast area west of the Meuse River, capturing over 300,000 German Army soldiers and a large amount of supplies.

Shire’s power, like the tanks he developed, mercilessly crushed any obstacles in his path.

Briand stood quietly at the window, looking down at the people cheering for Shire in the fog, his voice filled with despair:

"Nothing can stop him now. Everyone believes he is the savior of France. People support him, they follow him."

"Do you know what that means?"

"People will fall into a blind allegiance. They will support every decision Shire makes, even if those decisions are wrong. No one can influence him."

Briand believed this was the flaw of the Republic system.

The Republic often operated under the control of capital.

The reason was that the common people were not united. During elections, they were easily defeated by the onslaught of public opinion and money from the capitalists.

But if a person like Shire appeared.

He became the spiritual leader of the entire nation’s common people, holding indisputable and unquestionable prestige, while also controlling public opinion and owning capital.

Then, he could unite the "vulnerable" common people.

"This will end the Republic," Briand sighed long and deeply, "It will be defeated by itself."

Clemenceau understood what he meant.

The Republic would elect a centralized Prime Minister, and that Prime Minister could easily use dictatorial measures to end the Republic.

"I don’t think it’s certain," Clemenceau said calmly, "First, he must resign from his military position."

This was the iron law of France, soldiers could not engage in politics.

Briand shook his head with a light laugh, "Do you think he will give up his military position?"

Clemenceau retorted, "If he clings to military power, then he will leave himself open. And if he resigns, his fate will be like Bourgeoisie..."

"Your Excellency," Briand interrupted Clemenceau, "Shire is not Bourgeoisie. You underestimate him! Think about it, who is currently commanding the army?"

Clemenceau was startled.

The answer was obviously Shire.

Although Shire was only the commander of the 6th Army Group, both Fuxu and Petain followed his orders, and Gali provided a strong backing.

Briand continued, "Who now has the power to appoint and remove the military?"

Clemenceau thought carefully, officially, it was Parliament and the government.

But since the last massive "mutiny" of the army, the appointment and removal of important military positions had to "fully consider the opinions of frontline soldiers."

And the "opinions of frontline soldiers" were actually Shire’s opinions.

Briand walked up to Clemenceau, his voice carrying a hint of threat, "Now, who decides the allocation of materials, wartime distributions, and the production of munitions, shipping, insurance and mining in France?"

"It’s, it’s Shire." Clemenceau answered with difficulty.

"So," Briand said, "don’t you realize? Shire has used the power, capital and prestige in his hands to achieve the purpose of bypassing Parliament to control the country. He has at least partially succeeded, but we can do nothing about him."

Clemenceau slowly nodded.

Clemenceau realized his mistake, he had been too obsessed with parliamentary struggles, thinking Parliament was the center of power in France.

Unexpectedly, Parliament had unknowingly been rendered ineffective by Shire.

"It’s not just that, Your Excellency," Briand sat back on the sofa, painfully closing his eyes while massaging his forehead, "Many deputies have already turned to support Shire."

"Not just Steed and Wells, but others as well, and there will be more and more."

"Because supporting Shire will gain them more popularity, which will keep their seats, understand?"

Clemenceau nodded in agreement.

The benefits of "supporting Shire" far exceeded the "monetary offensive" of the capitalists and were much cheaper.

As the office fell into silence, Major Durra knocked and entered.

Neither Briand nor Clemenceau paid much attention, not believing that Major Durra could bring any good news.

"General Gallieni is ill," Major Durra reported indifferently, "I heard he had surgery."

Briand acknowledged with a sound, everyone knew Gallieni had injuries; surgery was not surprising.

Clemenceau didn’t even hear it, not reacting at all.

He was still shocked by Shire’s means, unable to believe that a 19-year-old youth could reach such heights.

Major Durra continued, "As far as I know, this is General Gallieni’s second surgery. The last one was a month ago, and he took a week off."

Briand suddenly looked up at Major Durra, "You mean he’s hiding his illness?"

Major Durra nodded lightly, finally grasping the point.

This caught Clemenceau’s attention, he asked puzzled, "Hiding his illness? This means he is seriously ill, right?"

"Of course," Briand stood up sharply, excitedly saying, "This isn’t a minor surgery, it might even be life-threatening, am I right?"

The last sentence was directed at Major Durra.

Major Durra nodded firmly, "I heard General Gallieni regained consciousness only at dawn, just escaping life-threatening danger."

Briand raised a finger, seemingly having thought of something, then pointed heavily in the air, "He’s worried, about the Minister of the Army!"

But he immediately denied his own statement, "No, no, it’s not the Minister of the Army."

"The Minister of the Army is insignificant to him, because it’s always Shire who commands the troops."

"What he’s worried about is the Commander of the Reserve Army Group!"

Clemenceau agreed, "Yes, the Commander of the Reserve Army Group is Shire’s strong backing. I mean, the material distribution is executed by the Reserve Army Group."

"Also the security work in Davaz Town, and Shire’s aircraft factory, the Merit Newspaper’s office..."

"God, if Gallieni couldn’t continue serving as the Commander of the Reserve Army Group due to his health, Shire would lose everything, absolutely everything!"

A hint of a smile appeared on Briand’s face.

He had never expected that God would give him such an opportunity, a perfect opportunity, when he was in despair.

He immediately picked up the phone to call his secretary, "Organize Parliament, it’s time to relieve General Gallieni’s burden."

Clemenceau and Major Durra nodded in agreement.