Less than half an hour after the bombing, Deyoka appeared once more in Schneider's VIP room.

"Mr. James," Deyoka asked, "have you reconsidered the matter of selling the steel mills?"

James, expressionless, retorted, "Do I have any other choice?"

Deyoka shook his head with a calm smile.

If he didn't sell, the mills would be bombed, leaving him with nothing but a heap of scrap metal. Selling, however, would at least yield a profit. So for James, it wasn't really a matter of choosing to sell or not to sell—it was only a matter of whether he wanted to turn the asset into cash.

James asked, "How much are you willing to pay for it?"

"Ten million francs," Deyoka replied.

"But the Carmond Steel Mill alone is worth at least thirty million francs," James protested.

The point wasn't just the monetary value; the mill represented influence and bargaining power.

Deyoka responded calmly, "I don't believe anyone other than me would make an offer at any price."

James gritted his teeth. No, there wouldn't be another buyer—everyone knew that the moment they acquired the mill, it would be bombed, unless it was sold to Charles.

"A clever strategy, Mr. Deyoka," James said with a slight nod. "My admiration for Charles grows every day."

"This has nothing to do with Charles, Mr. James," Deyoka replied. "This is simply a business transaction between you and me."

James chuckled.

It was true that Charles wasn't directly involved—Deyoka handled the negotiations while Charles was busy saving France. Though, of course, everyone knew what was really going on.

"And what if I'd rather lose the ten million francs?" James lit a cigar, intentionally not offering one to Deyoka, adding a hint of tension to the room.

It seemed like a reasonable option—James could afford to lose ten million francs, though it wasn't a trivial amount. But if it meant delaying Charles's progress, it might be worth it.

Deyoka, however, merely shrugged. "You could make that choice, Mr. James. But I don't think Mr. Wendell would see it the same way."

James froze, the cigar halfway to his lips.

For Schneider, refusing to sell would mean a loss of ten million francs. But the Wendell family owned over a dozen steel mills in the region, and even at a low price of ten million per mill, their total worth exceeded a hundred million francs. Would Wendell really throw that much money down the drain?

Besides, Wendell wasn't involved in the military industry; he didn't directly compete with Charles. All he needed was for someone—anyone—to keep buying his steel.

James suddenly realized he was just a pawn in Charles's game.

Charles was killing one "chicken" to scare the "monkey." His real target was Wendell's steel mills.

Even if James insisted on not selling, he wouldn't achieve his aim of stalling Charles's development.

The look in Deyoka's eyes confirmed this: ten million francs was on the table—take it or leave it.

After a moment of thought, James let out a defeated sigh. "You win, Mr. Deyoka."

...

By the river, Wells sat in his usual place, deep in thought, enjoying the river breeze, his rocking chair, and the sunlight.

Progress on the torpedo was going smoothly. In preliminary tests, its range had reached four kilometers, though it relied on inertia to complete the last few hundred meters after running out of fuel.

Still, it was a breakthrough, and Wells was confident that Charles would eventually find ways to extend the range further.

Meanwhile, the wire-guided torpedo was also in its initial stages of success; they had managed to attach a 3mm control wire to a torpedo with a four-kilometer range. The downside was that the torpedo could only travel at low speeds with the wire attached; otherwise, the wire would snap.

The next steps involved reducing the wire's diameter while increasing its durability—both were only a matter of time.

(Note: Modern wire-guided torpedoes typically have a wire diameter of less than 1.2mm and can reach ranges of up to 46 kilometers.)

Yet, Wells felt no joy.

If things continued this way, would Charles still have any use for him?

What would happen if Charles decided to abandon Wells and his shipyard entirely?

The wire-guided torpedoes, landing crafts, and depth charges used for submarine warfare—all these technologies were owned by Charles. Losing access to these would plunge the shipyard back into darkness.

For Wells, this possibility was tormenting.

If he had never glimpsed the light, he wouldn't have felt so conflicted. But having already seen a future filled with promise, the thought of returning to a dark, damp, and lifeless existence was unbearable.

Yet Wells had no choice but to face this possibility.

Because choosing to align with Charles could genuinely lead to his death.

Lost in thought, Wells didn't notice when Tijani entered the room, carrying a bouquet of tulips—Wells's favorite. Tijani placed them on the desk before him.

"Something wrong?" Wells asked without turning around. "Another day off? You seem to have a lot of free time lately!"

"No, I just thought I'd stop by," Tijani replied.

Wells snorted, still looking out the window. He'd sooner believe the river would flow backward than believe that Tijani was here out of genuine concern.

Tijani seemed unbothered by Wells's coldness, as if he was long accustomed to it.

After tossing the withered flowers into the trash, Tijani dusted off his hands and approached Wells, casually mentioning, "Did you hear? We bombed a steel mill."

Wells grunted. He had read about it in the newspaper that morning.

Such waste. Two steel mills turned to ashes!

After waiting a moment without further comment from Tijani, Wells turned to him with a puzzled look. "Is that why you came to see me?"

"More or less," Tijani replied. "You do realize this was Charles's doing, don't you?"

"So what?" Wells chuckled. "Are you trying to tell me that Charles now holds the power over life and death for those steel mills?"

It was meant as a joke, but Tijani nodded. "You're exactly right."

Wells paused, giving Tijani a skeptical look. "Are you saying Charles is using this to force James into submission?"

Tijani decided to stop beating around the bush. "Charles just bought the Carmond Steel Mill—oh no, I should say Deyoka did."

Wells stared at Tijani in astonishment. This was good news, even if the mill was in German-occupied territory.

If the French military triumphed, Wells would finally have both "survival" and a future secured.

Tijani continued with a smile, "Additionally, negotiations are underway to purchase two more steel mills owned by Wendell. Deyoka isn't buying more than that to avoid creating unnecessary competition with Wendell."

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