Holy Roman Empire

Chapter 954: Chapter 217, Prologue

Filt Manor, as the situation in Paris became increasingly tense, so too did the atmosphere within the estate.

In the garden, Maxim Sidolov spoke with a serious expression, “Tom, take your little brother and sister to London for a vacation. Leave tomorrow; I’ve already arranged for the boat.”

Ruthlessness was reserved for outsiders, but to his own children, Maxim Sidolov was a caring father. Seeing that France was on the verge of upheaval, he had preemptively arranged an escape for them.

The young man asked in confusion, “What about you, aren’t you coming with us?”

The world never lacked clever people; Paris’s eerie atmosphere already hinted at the imminent storm. Anyone with some brains had started looking for a way out.

The wealthy sought connections to flee abroad, the moderately wealthy middle-class prepared to escape to the countryside. Apart from a few who had no choice but to stay, the rest were either penniless or clueless.

Without a doubt, Maxim Sidolov was one of those who had no choice but to stay.

After hesitating for a moment, Maxim Sidolov insincerely said, “No, go ahead without us. The bank’s affairs cannot proceed without me; after everything’s dealt with, your mother and I will follow.”

Being the eldest was not an easy role; along with sharing the largest slice of the cake came the corresponding responsibilities.

Now, at this critical moment, Maxim Sidolov had to stay and take charge. Too many were watching him, and if he tried to abandon everything and run at this time, he estimated he wouldn’t make it out of France alive.

Neither capitalists nor the government would let him leave.

A consortium could arm-wrestle with the government because of unity. If the leader fled, that unity would crumble, and the disintegrated consortium would be like meat on the chopping board.

If the government wanted to strike at the consortium, they had to take down the leader first. It had nothing to do with right or wrong; it was entirely political necessity. Who asked for him to be the most renowned? Only by striking him down could they truly deter the people.

Most crucially, Maxim Sidolov himself was not willing to run away so pathetically. Because once he backed down, the industry he had fought for all his life would be lost.

Maxim Sidolov had thought about transferring assets and spreading the risk. In fact, every consortium wanted to diversify their investments and share the risks.

However, reality was cruel. The big consortia all dared to diversify their investments, but so far, none had truly succeeded.

The reasons were manifold, but the core reason was that the era of global capitalization had not yet arrived, and regional protectionism was rampant; this wasn’t something money could solve.

Small investments were tolerable, and putting money into ventures was feasible, but taking root locally was not. The local snakes could accept capital inflow but were unwelcome to a dragon crossing the river.

It was impossible during normal times, let alone now. Without the support of national power, trying to expand overseas naturally became exponentially more difficult.

Tom pressed further, “Why? We already have a lot of money; there’s no need to keep taking risks.”

“Money,” if one just looked at the paper wealth, Maxim Sidolov was about to become the world’s richest man. Of course, this had to be calculated based on pre-war values.

If France achieved victory, the consortium led by Maxim Sidolov would be the biggest winner of this war.

Through this war, they had successfully acquired control of nearly one-third of France’s factories, half of its mines, as well as an uncountable amount of land and real estate. Not to exaggerate, the whole of France seemed to be working for them.

The consortium reaped a huge profit, and as the leader, Maxim Sidolov naturally ate the juiciest meat. His personal worth soared past one hundred billion Francs, something he had never even dreamed of.

However, this money existed only in theory. Assets were assets but couldn’t be liquidated because there was not a single buyer to be found in all of France.

With the Anti-French Alliance closing in, the more assets held, the greater the risk. Including Maxim Sidolov, in recent times, French capitalists had been frantically selling off assets.

Even the previously most sought-after residential properties in the Paris city area were now on sale for a tenth of their price but still couldn’t find a buyer; the public had no money.

Excessive concentration of wealth led to intensified social conflicts and made Maxim Sidolov’s billions of Francs almost as worthless as scrap paper.

There was no choice; things purchasable with Francs were of no need; those that were desired couldn’t be bought with Francs.

In the banks of Paris, an interesting phenomenon developed: foreign currencies and gold could be exchanged for Francs, but Francs could not be exchanged for foreign currencies.

Before the war, 1 pound could exchange for 25 Francs, now 1 pound could exchange for 100 Francs, and even this exchange rate was negotiable.

If given a choice, Maxim Sidolov would rather trade that over one hundred billion Francs in assets for one billion British pounds, and if really necessary, even twenty to thirty million pounds could be bargained for.

Unfortunately, there was no such fool to come forward and take over. While there appeared to be many quality assets, the actual number that could be kept after the war was an unknown.

Take, for example, the mines and lands in the Belgium and Rhineland regions, or the factories and real estate in the Italian Area, which seemed to belong to Maxim Sidolov but were definitely unrelated to his future.

Just these losses alone would be enough for Maxim Sidolov’s assets to halve. The remaining half was equally insecure; war was the biggest asset killer.

Unquestionably, holding so many assets was not Maxim Sidolov’s wish. He was a banker, not an industrialist, naturally uninterested in low-return factories and mines.

Aside from a few assets that he bought actively, the vast majority of the industries were mortgage collateral acquired by force due to overdue bank loans. This included the mines in the Belgium and Rhineland regions mortgaged to them by the French government.

No matter how unreliable these assets were, they were at least more useful than the Francs that were devaluing every day. Unable to convert them into foreign currency or gold, there was no other choice but to continue holding them.

“Alright, Tom. There isn’t much time left, and you should go say goodbye to your mother. As for everything else, you’ll understand in time.”

“If I meet with an accident, you’ll need to take up the responsibility as head of the family, take good care of your younger siblings, and raise them to adulthood.”

“This is the inventory of our overseas assets, and it’s all in your hands now. They are mostly stocks and real estate—a not-so-large sum of money—you’ll have to plan wisely.”

“There’s no choice, that group of fools lost too quickly, disrupting all my plans, and now this is all I can prepare for you.”

“As for the corporation’s overseas assets, just pretend you know nothing. I only wish for your safety; these aren’t things you can guard.”

Looking at his young son, Maxim Sidolov deeply regretted his frivolous youth, which resulted in his first-born being only fifteen years old now.

At such an age, expecting him to match wits with a group of old foxes was utterly unrealistic.

As for the others, it’s a shame, having grown accustomed to forcible seizure and usurping, Maxim Sidolov now trusted no one.

…

While the capitalists looked for a way out, the nobility were also not idle. Despite Europe’s tradition of sparing the nobility, revolutions were the exception.

Past experience showed that with every great revolution, Paris ran with the blood of the aristocracy. Whether noble or not, life was precious and singular.

If France had only the Bonaparte Dynasty and not three royal families, the nobility, for their own interest, would stand with the Emperor, and Napoleon IV’s chances of success would be substantial.

Regrettably, present-day France did not just have three royal families, but among them, the prestige of the Bonaparte Dynasty was the lowest in the aristocracy.

Had there been no European war and Napoleon IV secured his throne, with the next generation the Bonaparte Dynasty could have shed its parvenu status and truly been accepted by the Aristocratic Group.

Alas, reality holds no ifs. To the ancient nobility, the Bonaparte Dynasty was the source of disasters, an endless trouble for France, and there was no chance of supporting them.

As the atmosphere in Paris grew ever more bizarre, the nobility supporting the Bourbon and Orleans houses grew more active, many preparing to emulate Napoleon III and seize power through revolution.

In the Palace of Versailles, as information converged, Napoleon IV ground his teeth in anger yet felt utterly powerless.

The risk of going to war with the financiers was already immense. If he acted against the nobility as well, the Palace of Versailles would truly change hands.

In this world of nobility, even the Emperor had to abide by certain rules; as long as there’s no open rebellion, the Emperor had no reason to take action against them.

After setting aside the documents, Napoleon IV spoke fiercely, “Take immediate action; we can’t let those scoundrels flee with France’s wealth. If anyone resists, execute them on the spot!”

Being discovered was inevitable, not everyone was as cautious as Maxim Sidolov, who not only drew attention himself but also arranged for his children’s escape with minimal fuss.

Yet some audacious individuals didn’t just flee; they even swept the bank vaults, attempting to abscond with gold and silver.

It was ludicrous; while escaping with a few tons of gold might be feasible, those with hundreds of tons of silver were simply courting death.

Even without being caught by the Emperor, such vast wealth would attract the greed of customs officers. If not swallowed up in France, it would be seized in Britain.

And then, naturally, there would be no “then.” With such a commotion, if it went unnoticed, Napoleon IV would have long been dethroned.

At the Paris Dock, this very scene unfolded. A convoy of luxurious carriages was halted by customs officials before boarding.

A middle-aged merchant, enraged, bellowed at the workers, “Why can’t we board? I have legitimate documentation. Who gave you the authority to detain my merchandise?

Get your superintendent here at once, I want to make a complaint! Do you hear me? Any slower and I’ll flay you alive!”

In recent years, with the rise of powerful capital in France, the social status of the wealthy soared. It was child’s play for them to yell at workers; some even dared to slap them directly.

Money was no concern—they weren’t afraid of lawsuits. Even if they won the case, this kind of civil dispute ended merely with monetary compensation, often not even covering the legal costs.

Against this backdrop, not just ordinary citizens, but even regular government officials lost their deterrent power in the face of capital.

The young man explained helplessly, “I’m very sorry, sir. According to the latest decree issued by the government: to combat the outflow of gold and silver, from now on, any export of these metals is forbidden.

Your paperwork was approved previously and has now lost its legal effect. If you have any complaints, you may lodge them with the relevant authorities.

However, I’d advise you not to waste your efforts. The official responsible for the approvals has been suspended pending investigation, and it won’t be long before someone comes to question you.”

The middle-aged man was just about to explode when a military unit appeared at the dock. Under the command of an officer, the troops took direct control of the convoy.

The middle-aged man had just approached to argue when he was pinned to the ground by two soldiers who approached him, giving him no chance to defend himself.

…