From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

After finalizing the plan, the three of them chatted in the living room for some time.

The recent performance of the Corsica National Silver Company in the market naturally shocked Duke Choiseul, so he has been asking Lawrence about this company.

Although the market value of this company has far exceeded the entire property of Duke Choiseul, as a traditional and conservative nobleman, Duke Choiseul still has little interest in participating in these business activities.

And for a political figure like him, the importance of power far outweighs wealth, so he did not covet the huge sum of money in Lawrence's hands.

However, the financial resources displayed by the financiers during this carnival gave Duke Choiseul a lot of ideas.

"To be honest, I really didn't expect it."

Duke Choiseul said with emotion:

"The funds in the hands of those businessmen are so rich that they can raise tens of millions of livres and invest them in the financial market in just a few days. Alas, it would be great if this money could be used to alleviate the fiscal deficit. Maybe I should give They impose heavy taxes."

"Well, I don't think that's a good approach."

After hearing this, Lawrence shrugged, shook his head and said:

"After all, only a handful of leading financiers have strong financial resources, and most investors are just middle-class citizens. If you transfer the financial pressure to them."

If the Duke of Choiseul had really adopted such a radical and unfair method, Lawrence estimated that the process of the Revolution would have been advanced by at least ten years.

"Okay, okay, what you said makes sense. This will cause turmoil." Duke Choiseul curled his lips and did not take this idea to heart.

Lawrence glanced at Duke Choiseul, sighed and said:

"If you are really worried about financial problems, you might as well attack the nobles and clergy. Their property can buy most of France. Even levying a per capita tax on them can give France a big sigh of relief."

"Oh! Don't be silly, Lawrence."

Duke Choiseul laughed and said as if he had heard a joke:

"If I attack the financiers, at most it will trigger a riot in the city of Paris; but if I attack the nobles and clergy, I will trigger a rebellion that will spread throughout France. In less than a month, the rebels will be able to reach Paris. "Under the city."

General Jacques Philippe on the side nodded, looked at Lawrence seriously and added:

"Even the generals of Île-de-France will join the rebels. After all, they are also great nobles."

Lawrence shook his head helplessly, not intending to argue with them on this issue, so he said:

"Sorry, I was stupid."

The Duke of Choiseul was a great nobleman himself, so of course he would not take advantage of himself.

Even if he has the consciousness to sacrifice his own interests for the interests of the country, his political allies will not be as noble as him.

Whether it is the high courts in various places or the nobles and bureaucrats in the Palace of Versailles, they are on the front line of opposing fiscal reforms.

Even Lawrence has to admit that the current political and financial situation in France is a dead end, which cannot be solved by one person's hard work.

A bottom-up revolution is only a matter of time.

"I think it's not too early."

Duke Choiseul drank the last sip of hot tea, exhaled a sigh of relief, stood up and said:

"It's time for me to go talk to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who happens to be in Paris as well. Governor Bonaparte, when are you going to take action against Jean Du Barry?"

"Without further ado, let's start this evening." Lawrence also stood up and said.

"Very well, I will send you the order document from the Foreign Secretary before tomorrow morning."

Duke Choiseul licked his lips excitedly, grinned and said:

"That old bastard, Richelieu, I will personally get him out of Paris and Versailles."

After leaving the Duke of Choiseul's residence, Lawrence did not rush to attack Jean Du Barry, but went straight to the headquarters of the Bank of Commerce de France.

"It's an honor to see you again, Monsignor Bonaparte."

After Mr. Montmartre learned that Lawrence had arrived, he quickly greeted him personally, invited him into his office, and said with a smile on his face:

"Please take a seat. Why are you here in person?"

Since the last meeting at the Paris Stock Exchange, Mr. Montmartre, after being reminded by Lord Melly, has clearly understood that he and His Excellency Bonaparte are completely tied to a ship.

Once the fraud of the National Silver Company is exposed, the French Commercial Bank, as the stock agent, will suffer an unprecedented credit crisis.

The consequence of that is most likely that this leading bank will completely go bankrupt and disappear from the Paris market, and Mr. Montmartre himself will also be reduced from a multi-millionaire to a poor man at the bottom with huge debts.

However, if the National Silver Company can really sustain itself, Mr. Montmartre will be able to extract unimaginable profits from it.

Therefore, his life was already in the hands of His Excellency Bonaparte, and Mr. Montmartre had no choice but to obey Lawrence and try his best to meet all his demands.

Lawrence sat in the soft and comfortable sofa chair and asked casually:

"Is there anything happening in the market these days about National Silver Company?"

"Situation." Mr. Montmartre thought for a while and said skillfully:

"Everything is stable. It's just that some investors yesterday raised doubts about the Ajaccio silver mine report you disclosed, thinking that the report contained fictitious elements."

"Oh? What happened next?"

Lawrence asked not surprisingly.

When the report was first disclosed, the reveling investors did not have much time to analyze it in detail. Now that they have calmed down and read the report, they will naturally be shocked.

Mr. Montmartre smiled and pulled out this morning's newspaper, handed it to Lawrence and said:

"The geologist you invited is very dedicated. His name is Academician Geta. He teamed up with more than a dozen scholars to publish a statement in the newspaper, which completely eliminated the investors' doubts."

Lawrence glanced at the contents of the newspaper, nodded with a smile, and said casually:

"He is indeed very dedicated. Please send him a check for five thousand livres. Just say it is a bonus given to him by the board of directors."

"Oh, okay, okay." Mr. Montmartre quickly took out the memo and wrote down Lawrence's instructions.

"in addition"

Lawrence continued to give instructions:

"I'm going to borrow a few people from you. It won't take long."

"Borrower? What do you need?" Mr. Montmartre asked in confusion.

"Your auditors need to be the best."

Financial institutions like the Bank de France must have their own audit department.

Especially for large-scale industries, if the industry's financial revenue and expenditure and data reports cannot be effectively reviewed, it is almost inevitable for employees to be corrupt and take bribes.

"Auditor? Oh, sure."

Although Mr. Montmartre didn't know why Lawrence suddenly asked for this, he quickly stood up and ran outside the office to explain to his secretary.

Soon, the secretary returned to the office with two middle-aged men wearing white shirts and gold-rimmed glasses.

Mr. Montmartre pointed to the two auditors and introduced to Lawrence diligently:

"This is the oldest and most experienced auditor in our bank. I pay them a salary of eight hundred livres a month."

Then he snapped at the two auditors:

"Hey, Tommy, Leon, salute Mr. Bonaparte quickly, I think you two must know this name. Mr. Bonaparte needs you to work for him for a while, don't screw it up for me, understand! "

"Yes, sir."

The two nodded quickly and then nervously bowed deeply to Lawrence.

Of course, the two of them knew this Monsignor Bonaparte, who was well-known in the financial and political circles, and they were both anxious and honored to know that they would work for this big shot.

Lawrence also smiled and nodded to the two of them. Since they are the best auditors of the French Commercial Bank, there is no doubt about their ability.

"Then I'll take my leave. You two, please follow me."

In the evening, the red sunset gradually disappeared below the horizon.

The flow of people on most streets in Paris has begun to gradually decrease, and the rich nightlife can only be regarded as a luxury for those small citizens with insufficient financial resources.

But for those playboys and dandies looking for excitement, Paris at night is a good place to have fun.

Velvet Love, a bathhouse located in the center of Paris.

However, I'm afraid no one comes here to simply wash their bodies.

Whether it's the ambiguous name or the frivolous pink interior decoration, it shows that this is not a serious place.

Regular customers who often visit also know who the operator here is-Jean Du Barry, a famous pimp and casino operator in Paris.

Today, the most spacious and luxurious bathhouse in Velvet Love is reserved for the owner himself.

The empty Roman-style marble bath was covered with pink rose petals, and the air was filled with a dizzying fragrance.

In the corner of the bath.

Although only the upper bodies of a flushed-faced woman and a man with an ethereal face could be seen, the intense waves of water rippling from beneath them could still be seen.

"call"

Three minutes later, Jean Dubarry took a long breath, then pushed the woman in front of him away without any interest, closed his eyes, and relaxed against the edge of the bath.

"Monsieur Du Barry, you are so heartless." The woman who was pushed away took the initiative to move into Jean Du Barry's arms and said in a sweet voice.

Jean Dubarly glared at the woman and said impatiently:

"Get away, you bitch."

"Are you still thinking about the Duke of Richelieu, Monsignor Du Barry." The woman still hugged Jean Du Barry's arm and said coquettishly.

For these promiscuous women, the greatest wish is to become a woman beside the king like the Countess Du Barry.

This is why they went to great lengths to please Jean Du Barry.

"Hmph, you know nothing!"

Jean Dubarly glanced at the woman and said viciously:

"Can I not think about it? I almost lost my life!"

Of course, Jean Du Barry would never forget that that night, Count Falcone, who had been locked up in the Duke of Richelieu's residence, suddenly came to him.

Since Count Falcone was previously a playboy who couldn't control his private parts, and Jean Dubarry was a well-known pimp, the two seemed to have a similar affinity, hit it off and got together a long time ago.

Jean Dubarly also wanted to please the future duke, so he obeyed Count Falcone.

And that night, Count Falcone suddenly asked Jean Du Barry to mobilize his gang to attack a convoy.

Jean Du Barry could not go against the young master's wishes, so he had no choice but to comply and convey the order to the King of Beggars.

It was not until later that he learned that the convoy he ordered to attack was actually the convoy of the damned Laurence Bonaparte.

For several nights after that, Jean Dubarry was haunted and could not sleep all night, fearing that the Duke of Richelieu would also clean him up in order to eliminate evidence.

It is said that Madame Du Barry of the Palace of Versailles personally came forward and wrote a letter to the Duke of Richelieu to intercede for Jean Du Barry, which saved his life.

Even so, Jean Du Barry still lived in fear every day, worried that the Duke of Richelieu would secretly kill him, and worried that he would be pushed to the guillotine if the matter was revealed.

"Damn it, I was really stupid at that time! Then Falcone is a eunuch and a useless person. Why should I listen to him?"

Jean Dubarry became angry when he thought of this, and slapped the water in front of him hard, causing a splash of half a meter high.

At this moment, an employee suddenly rushed in in a panic, regardless of whether things were done inside, and announced loudly:

"Lord Dudubali! Someone is looking for you outside. He claims to be Lawrence Bonaparte!"

"What did you say?!"

When Jean Dubarry heard the name, he crawled out of the water like a frightened bird. He stood naked in a trance for a while, and then shouted:

"Damn it, get me my clothes!"

"We meet again, Monsieur du Barry."

In the hall of Velvet Love, Lawrence smiled and said to Jean Du Barry in front of him.

Behind Lawrence were the two auditors who had been borrowed from Montmartre at noon.

Jean Du Barry ran out in a hurry without even wiping his hair. After confirming that the person in front of him was indeed Laurence Bonaparte, he couldn't help but shudder, fearing that the other party came for that attack.

"What a pleasure, Your Excellency Bonaparte."

Jean Dubarly suppressed his trembling voice and greeted Lawrence with a stiff smile.

When they last met, this Corsican country bumpkin was just a little chieftain in a remote place. Jean Du Barry even believed that his status in Paris was higher than him.

In less than a month, Jean Du Barry had to bow his head in front of Lawrence and call him "Your Excellency" respectfully and gritted his teeth.

Jean Dubarry glanced at Lawrence with fear and fear, and asked:

"So, Monsignor Bonaparte, why are you here this time?"

"Mr. Du Barry, before we get down to business, I have a small request, regarding the title."

Lawrence looked at the wet and embarrassed Jean Du Barry with a teasing look, and said slowly:

"I would rather you call me Mr. Tax Collector."