Chapter 1050: That's Mine

In the grand hall of the opulent villa, the fireplace was unlit, as was proper for the season. Sunlight streamed through the massive glass windows, making the entire hall incredibly bright. A clear breeze blew in from the windows, stirring the sheer gauze and the expensive curtains. One look at the pattern on those curtains was enough to know their extraordinary value, yet they hung in every corner of this hall.

On the ceiling, the ancient and enormous chandelier had been modernized. Its old candles had been replaced with electric bulbs, but even this change had not in the slightest diminished its golden splendor. One could imagine how brightly this place must be lit at night by this chandelier.

Even the most unseasoned person, upon seeing such magnificent furniture and decoration, would clearly recognize just how wealthy the owner of this house was. Any random object here could represent a lifetime of toil for a poor man. The style of the carved solid wood furniture carried the lingering charm of the Middle Ages. One didn’t even need to touch it to feel its priceless value.

But in this home, which was practically built of money, there was a corner that the sunlight was unwilling to touch. In that darkest, most lifeless place, a man with a cigar in his mouth leaned back on a sofa, his sinister gaze piercing the darkness, making one’s heart palpitate.

He was very rich, one of the richest men in Germany. If it weren’t for the White Orchid Group, that behemoth that had risen to prominence in the war, he might not even have needed the qualifier “one of.” He alone controlled countless German industries. Even Krupp had to be obsequious to him, because in the face of his vast capital, any single industry was just a fragile thing.

After the Führer had driven out the wealthy Jews, his position had become even more unassailable. Most of the assets the Jews had left behind in Germany had been carved up by the German businessmen, used to pay off the state’s debts for supplies and funds. Countless MEFO bills had just been redeemed by the government, only to be turned around and reissued as orders for military products, forwarded to these directors and financiers.

Unfortunately, this man, who represented the largest and richest conglomerate in Germany, had been in a bad mood recently, because he was unable to swallow up that massive, rich, and vigorous White Orchid Group. He knew he was no match for that massive group, which was personally controlled by the First Lady, because standing behind this group was that seemingly omniscient Führer.

What angered him even more was that, because he was unable to use his vast capital to shake the White Orchid Group, he had no way of getting his hands on the other industrial groups of the Empire that had risen to prominence by relying on it. Companies like Krupp, Porsche, Rheinmetall, and BMW, all because they were under the protection of the Führer’s industrial department, were raking in huge sums of money every day, but he could not acquire them.

So recently, he had become more and more impatient, impatient with this state economic protection that transcended business means. He had spent a lot of money to buy off members of the Greater German Party and to cultivate representatives in the military, hoping to push through a bill to support his capital’s entry into the fields that were now making limitless money.

As a person who believed only in profit, he had even considered using the election law to kick that foolish, war-obsessed Führer out of his position. He longed to replace him with a more pliable puppet, to further satisfy his grand ambition of devouring the entire European economic sphere.

“Mr. Linus… the ironworks factory that the Jews transferred to us… the workers are already on strike because we cut their wages,” a man, dressed as a manager in a suit, stood in front of the seated man, respectfully reporting what had just happened.

Linus Sebastian had left almost no name in history, but if one were to say that Hitler, Krupp, and even Speer had all borrowed money from this tycoon, then one would know just how high his status was in Germany. This super financial tycoon from Munich held countless German factories and companies in his grip.

“Those damn Jews. Still raising wages for those poor workers as they were leaving. Isn’t that clearly just to spite me!” Linus, who was sitting on the sofa, took the thick cigar from his mouth. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, he squeezed out this complaint from between his teeth. “Just like that unlucky Führer, they don’t understand what business is, nor what capital is… Call the commander of the local garrison. Let the… local manager handle it.”

In order to gain support and to accelerate Germany’s industrial development, Akado, after several attempts, had, eight months ago, abolished the right of workers to assemble and had managed to turn the trade unions into a mouthpiece for the Greater German Party. This had, to a certain extent, fanned the flames of the capitalists’ exploitation of the workers, but it had also, objectively, accelerated the pace of Germany’s industrial reform.

“There are no more unions, and these idiots, who have nothing left but their miserable lives, are still making such a fuss! If they don’t go to work, just have the army suppress them. Kill a few, and the rest will naturally behave,” Linus said, stating his countermeasures with satisfaction. His countermeasure to his subordinates’ demands for a raise was basically this one method: never compromise. He colluded with anyone he could, to suppress all the workers’ strikes in his factories.

On this matter, he had his own theory: he was willing to spend a lot of money to get to know a high-ranking government official. For him, this was expanding his social circle and was an upper-class social activity. But to ask him to take out one cent for his employees, that was a manifestation of a waste of resources. He, like almost all capitalists, believed that any means that increased production costs was a failed operational method.

In this hall, he contemptuously called the German Führer, Akado, who did not understand capital operations, “that man who doesn’t understand economics,” and called the generals of the Führer’s faction in the army, who refused to accept his bribes, “that group of idiots who only know how to fight.” Linus believed that these people would all, in the end, be defeated by his money and would ultimately be replaced by people who knew better.

Another of his trusted subordinates lowered his head slightly and then softly spoke of the results of his recent activities. “A dozen or so MPs are very appreciative of your generosity. They believe that to introduce a free-market bill at the appropriate time is a very correct choice. But none of them are willing to plan an election, or even to mention this matter.”

These politicians, who were playing politics in the Greater German Party, were no fools. They understood Akado’s power in German politics better than the businessmen. And these politicians, who had risen to power through the Greater German Party, had all, more or less, benefited from that Reichstag fire and that famous “Night of the Long Knives.” The bloody slaughter had not yet been forgotten. On the contrary, everyone was very clear in their hearts just how ruthless that man, who lived deep in the Führer’s residence, was.

No one was willing to take the risk, or rather, no one was willing to go and die. This Führer’s control over the army and the armed forces was even more solid than that of an emperor or the leader of a military junta. And within the Greater German Party, the fanatics who supported the Führer were also in the vast majority. No sane person would, in this situation, challenge Akado’s authority for a little bit of money.

“Bastards!” In his agitation, Linus grabbed the small, exquisite, gem-encrusted golden ashtray that was on the armrest of the sofa and, without a second thought, smashed it onto the floor. He was furious, furious that none of that group was willing to go against Akado. “This group of cowards! Sooner or later, I’ll finish all of them!”

That solid gold ashtray had clattered and rolled to a corner of the room. The immense force had completely deformed this exquisite furnishing. This thing, which was probably worth a fortune, which could probably have fed many workers, had just been so easily destroyed by Linus.

He had recently, over the issue of his investments in Italy, truly gone head-to-head with the German Führer, Akado. He had incited many of the big conglomerates with investments in Italy to jointly put pressure on Akado, hoping that he would step down as soon as possible, or at least quickly stabilize the turbulent situation in Italy.

The original expectation was that Akado would be forced to compromise, or to give up some benefits to satisfy their even greater greed. But no one had expected that the situation in Italy would be stabilized so quickly by the Wehrmacht, without even giving them any time to react. Most of the conglomerates had defected, giving up a portion of their interests to curry favor with the Führer’s group. But he, unwilling to accept the failure of his plan, had continued to plot to replace the Führer with someone else.

Unfortunately, this plan now seemed to be extremely difficult, because he had really not expected that a leader’s control over a country could be so strong. Thirty years ago, his father, Linus’s father, had once told him, “Even the emperor of this country can be replaced with money.” But now, for him to want to replace a Führer was fraught with difficulties.

“Mr. Linus… Mr. Linus!” Just as he was agonizing over this, an old gentleman in a very respectable butler’s uniform walked quickly into the hall. This old butler clearly spotted the ashtray in the corner. He glanced at the several people who were frequent visitors here with a strange expression, then turned and bent down to pick up the ashtray. He did not put the already-destroyed, art-like ashtray back in its original place, but just held it and walked to Linus’s side. He bowed, leaned close to Linus’s ear, and whispered a piece of news he had just received.

Linus’s eyes suddenly widened. He then looked at the old butler who had just finished speaking. In the end, he even dropped the cigar from his hand and, from between clenched teeth, with a cold, sinister voice, he squeezed out a sentence from his mouth: “They dared to keep this from me! That oil field is mine! It’s mine!”

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