I Became a Tycoon During World War I: Saving France from the Start

Inside the Paris Defense Headquarters, the calm that had settled over the staff was once again shattered. Every department was in a frenzy, scrambling to arrange medical teams, reinforcements, transportation, and even chemical experts. Thousands of soldiers injured by the gas were stranded at the front, unable to be evacuated, and even if they were brought back, there was little anyone could do to treat them.

(Note: Chlorine gas inflicts irreversible damage. When it reacts with the moisture in the human body, it produces corrosive hydrochloric acid that can burn through the esophagus, trachea, and even internal organs, often causing permanent injury or death.)

Gallieni sat at his desk, reading one telegram after another, his brow deeply furrowed. He regretted not taking Charles's warning more seriously. Charles had given a clear alert, but Gallieni, harboring some skepticism, hadn't pursued further investigation or made any preparations.

As soon as Charles entered the operations room, everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, all eyes turning toward him with a sense of hope.

Gallieni wasted no time and handed Charles a telegram. "Your intel was correct. Early this morning, the Germans released poison gas at Ypres. The entire Ypres front has collapsed!"

Without waiting for Charles's response, Gallieni added, "For now, the casualties aren't catastrophic. Based on our initial reports, it seems a few thousand have been affected."

In modern terms, thousands of casualties would be a disaster, but in the context of World War I, this number was regrettably commonplace.

"But," Gallieni's tone turned grave, "the real issue is that we have no way to counter it. Entire sections of our front are panicking, terrified the Germans might deploy gas in their sectors."

Charles nodded. The true horror of poison gas wasn't just in its lethal effect; it was the psychological toll it took on soldiers. Breathing itself could mean death—how could one avoid that?

This fear bred despair. Some soldiers might wonder if the war was already lost. If resistance only meant increased suffering and sacrifice, was surrender the only option left?

It was possible even the Germans hadn't anticipated the intense psychological impact of gas warfare on the Allies; they may have simply focused on its potential lethality. In fact, the lethality of the gas had likely disappointed them: 6,000 canisters, totaling 180,000 kilograms of gas, had resulted in "only" 5,000 deaths, with another 10,000 wounded.

Charles analyzed further. "If the Germans had fully understood the psychological blow gas warfare would deal, they would have concentrated an entire army corps to exploit the breach in our lines while the Allies were in shock. The entire front could have crumbled, and the outcome of this war would likely be very different."

Gallieni asked, "Do you know anything more specific about this gas? What it is, its properties, any methods to alleviate or counteract its effects?"

This wasn't just about treating the injured; it was about stabilizing morale and finding a way to defend against it.

Charles knew he had to be extremely cautious. Sometimes "pretending not to know" was more challenging than "pretending to know." If he accidentally revealed too much, the only plausible explanation would be that he was a German spy.

"I have no additional information, sir," Charles replied. "All I know is that the Germans likely conducted a small-scale test earlier, which hinted at their plans."

Gallieni's eyes showed a trace of disappointment, but he understood—Germany would obviously have kept this secret closely guarded.

Just then, Fernand handed over a new telegram. "From Northern Army Group, General Foch wants to know if Charles has any additional information."

Gallieni acknowledged the request with a nod. "It seems everyone is turning to you now for answers, even Foch. He must be regretting his prior decision."

Yet the French high command remained silent. Joffre's pride seemed unshakable, possibly outweighing the lives of soldiers, the stability of the front, and even the safety of France itself.

Gallieni was about to send a reply to Foch confirming they had no further information, but Charles interjected. "Sir, while I don't know exactly what the gas is, I may have a way to counter it."

"What?" Gallieni looked at Charles in surprise, and the officers in the room paused, their attention fixed on him.

Gallieni asked skeptically, "But if you don't know what the gas is, how could you devise a countermeasure?"

"Just a possibility, sir," Charles explained. "I had a hunch the Germans might resort to poison gas, so I made some preparations."

Charles retrieved a gas mask prototype from his bag and presented it to Gallieni, explaining its features.

Gallieni's eyes lit up. "Of course! Even if we don't know the exact gas, having something is better than nothing," he exclaimed. "Order these into mass production immediately. Whatever we can get, we'll buy—at the very least, they'll protect the soldiers' eyes."

The confidence in Gallieni's voice was palpable. After all, every piece of equipment Charles had invented so far had proven invaluable on the battlefield.

This time, Charles didn't leave without saying a word. He made a point to stop at home.

The difference, however, was minimal, as he couldn't disclose anything about his assignment.

When the car pulled up in front of his house in the village of Davaz, Charles was surprised to see the house already crowded with neighbors—men and women alike, their faces drawn with worry. As soon as they saw Charles stepping out of the car, they rushed to meet him with a flurry of pleas:

"Charles! You've come back!"

"Charles, please, there must be something you can do!"

"You're our only hope! Save them, Charles!"

Charles looked around in confusion. "What's going on?" he asked as he made his way into the house.

Deyoka was busy trying to calm the neighbors, while Camille sat pale and distressed on the sofa, clearly caught between her concern for her son and the pressure from the people around her.

Deyoka explained, "Several men from our town are serving in the 20th Army…"

Charles understood immediately. The 20th Army had been hit by the gas attack at Ypres and was struggling to hold the line. These villagers were undoubtedly family members of those soldiers.

Sure enough, the neighbors were already pleading with him, some with tear-streaked faces:

"Remember Michael, Charles? He was your classmate. He's in the 20th Army."

"And Goldman—he's two years older than you. You both skipped school together once, remember?"

"Please, Charles. You're our only hope. Save them!"

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