I Became a Plutocrat in World War I: Starting with Saving France-Chapter 781: Why Isn’t This a Good Thing?

Shire didn’t take this matter to heart, because it doesn’t affect the war situation, and he doesn’t need to care.

Historically, Germany only deployed the Paris Cannon in 1918 for actual combat, but now they have advanced it by two years.

This seems as though the Germans have been driven to desperation.

Or perhaps Hindenburg hopes to use the Paris Cannon to hit the confidence and morale of the French Army.

Just as Shire was about to explain further, he suddenly thought, why isn’t this a good thing?

This is an opportunity presented by the Germans, a grand gift from Hindenburg!

Once the Paris Cannon is fired, the uninformed military and civilians of France will think that this war has gained a new variable.

After all, they don’t know the Paris Cannon is limited in number; they believe it can unleash thousands of shells like the artillery on the front lines and bombard for days and nights.

If it were true, the Germans wouldn’t need to launch an attack to easily destroy Paris.

Moreover, the French Army’s artillery positions, train stations, airports, warehouses, railways and highways... everything would be under the threat of this "Paris Cannon," and how should this battle be fought?

Thus the threat arises, panic ensues, and people even believe that France could lose this war, even with Shire.

So, capitalists are selling off land, the parliament continues to aggressively fund research, and tens of thousands of Paris citizens rush to purchase insurance from the Bernard Group.

Shire seems to see money flowing towards him like a stream.

At this thought, he feigned panic: "I thought the Germans would need at least another year to develop it; I didn’t expect it to be deployed now!"

Normally composed and unperturbed, General Gallieni was also flustered at this moment, and he asked with difficulty: "Do we have a method to counter this?"

Shire shook his head:

"It’s artillery, General, it sends shells, and we can’t intercept them."

"Moreover, I believe the Germans will certainly build fortifications and disguise this cannon well."

"Even if we dispatch bombers, it would be very hard to destroy it."

Gallieni nodded heavily.

Although he wasn’t very knowledgeable about aerial combat, he also knew it wasn’t difficult for a cannon to evade bombers; besides fortifications, camouflage nets or smoke could all prevent bombers from finding a target.

"However, don’t worry too much," Shire said: "This is only my speculation; it might not necessarily be artillery."

Shire’s words seemed to "console," but they actually deepened the worries in everyone’s hearts.

They might think: even Shire hopes it isn’t artillery, which means Shire has no solution to it either—what should be done?

Just as the office fell into silence, a sharp whistling sound echoed once more from the sky, growing sharper as it approached.

"Boom," a loud explosion.

The office distinctly felt a tremor; the shell appeared to have landed nearby.

Gallieni and Shire quickly ran to the window and poked their heads out, only to see black smoke rising from the other end of the street, with several three-story houses razed to the ground.

People screamed in panic, some holding children and dodging in fear, others busy saving the wounded, and some sprawled on the ground covered in blood calling for help.

After watching for a while, Gallieni withdrew his head: "It can be basically confirmed."

Shire responded with an "Hmm."

They hadn’t heard the roar of airplane engines, but the whistling of flying shells—clearly it was artillery.

Gallieni was still hesitating, unsure whether to inform the public of the truth.

But just then, the guards called:

"General, we may know what this is."

"We believe it wasn’t a bomber, but artillery shells instead."

"Many soldiers heard the whistling of shells."

Many of the guards were veterans who had been on the battlefield, capable of distinguishing the sound of an aviation bomb from an artillery shell.

Gallieni could only sigh and say to Shire: "It seems we need to organize another parliamentary session!"

...

Bourbon Palace, House of Representatives hall.

The parliament members knew why they were urgently called to meet, but they were indifferent.

Almost everyone guessed that it was a German bomber dropping bombs:

"It’s nothing serious. We know that our fighter planes always have an advantage over the Germans; all they can do is harass."

"Yes, they aren’t bombing important targets."

"Shire will teach them a lesson soon; I can’t wait to see the wreckage of the German bombers."

...

However, when Clemenceau, Gallieni, and Shire walked into the meeting room with grim expressions, the parliament members sensed that perhaps things weren’t as simple as they thought.

Clemenceau stepped onto the podium and straightforwardly said:

"Gentlemen, you know what’s happened—Paris has been bombed."

"As for the cause..."

Clemenceau glanced at Shire: "I think the question should be left to professionals."

He stepped aside and nodded towards Shire.

Shire, unlike his usual calm, walked onto the podium with a serious expression:

"Gentlemen, before coming here, I sent two squadrons to patrol the skies over Paris."

"But we didn’t find enemy bombers."

"Do you know what this means?"

Shire paused, sweeping his gaze over the confused parliament members who whispered to one another: "This means, the bombardment of Paris wasn’t done by enemy bombers, but artillery shells."

The meeting room was silent for a moment, then burst into chaos, as they successively asked:

"Artillery shells? Where did the artillery shells come from?"

"Weren’t the Germans driven out by us?"

"Could these be artillery shells fired from the border?"

...

The parliament members laughed at the suggestion; it was impossible, since Paris is over a hundred kilometers away from the border in a straight line.

Yet Shire nodded expressionlessly: "You guessed right, Sir, they’re artillery shells fired from the border!"

All the parliament members froze, and then someone shouted:

"That’s impossible; we all know artillery shells can only travel a dozen kilometers."

"Even naval guns can only travel about twenty kilometers."

"That’s the British battleships!"

...

The parliament members were talking about the British’s most advanced "Queen Elizabeth" battleship’s main cannon, which is 381MM thick and has a maximum range of 21,700 meters.

In fact, not only were the other parliament members skeptical, even Wells and Steed looked at Shire with confusion; only Arman, who knew nothing of military and industry, had no particular feeling, always reclining lazily in his chair and smiling while observing everything.

Shire confirmed his statement once again: "I believe it’s artillery, and many experienced battlefield veterans think so too, unless you have more battlefield experience than us, you should choose to trust."

Gallieni stood up facing the parliament members, his face somewhat pale:

"There’s nothing impossible about it, gentlemen. Think of ’Big Bertha,’ the Germans have the capacity to achieve this."

"Otherwise, how do we explain the absence of airplane engine sounds?"

"And our fighter planes didn’t find bombers, even though explosions occurred below in Paris."

"So, yes, the Germans have such artillery, capable of firing from the border to Paris!"

Parliament members were taken aback.

But their shocked expressions precisely indicated they were beginning to accept this explanation.