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I am the Crown Prince of France

I have been reborn in France, and luckily, I have the identity of the Crown Prince. The downside is that the current king is Louis XVI, and in two years, he will be guillotined. Since my father and the ministers can’t be trusted, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and reorganize France myself. First, I’ll make some money, just enough to solve the financial crisis that has plagued the country for centuries. Then, I’ll strike hard at the nobles with ill intentions who seek to usurp power. After that, I’ll seize the vast lands held by the church, which sits idle. Industry, technology, agriculture, and commerce will thrive together. I will be the greatest Crown Prince France has ever seen! If you like the novel you can read advance chapters on my patreon or you can buy the advance of the first 100 chapters in the store.

Johanssen10 · หนังสือและวรรณกรรม
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134 Chs

Chapter 122: Talents from All Over the World Gather Under My Banner

Chapter 122: Talents from All Over the World Gather Under My Banner

Just as Joseph's carriage stopped in front of the Industry Planning Bureau, a disheveled figure suddenly emerged from the corner of the street, quickly making his way towards them.

"Do not approach!" Two guards immediately stepped forward to block the man.

Seeing the deep lines etched on the man's face, Joseph couldn't help but smile. Isn't this "Piranha"... I mean, Mr. Marat? You've finally arrived.

He leaned out of the carriage window and signaled to Crozod, "Let Mr. Marat through."

"Yes, Your Highness."

A short time later, Marat sat across from Joseph in the Planning Bureau's reception room, his eyes filled with anger. "Your Highness, you used such disgraceful methods to manipulate me! I will make this public!"

After toppling Chief Justice Vezinier, Marat had been quite pleased with himself for a while, believing he had done a great service for the people of Paris. However, about half a month ago, he happened to see a portrait of the Prince and found it familiar. Suddenly, he remembered—it was the same young man, Mr. Xavier, from Le Parisien! He quickly pieced everything together and realized that the Prince had used him to eliminate his political enemy. He had been played!

Furious, he stormed off to Versailles, only to be told that the Prince was working in Paris. So he rushed to the Industry Planning Bureau, only to find out that the Prince had gone to Bordeaux.

He waited at the bureau for several days until today, when he finally "caught" Joseph and immediately came to confront him.

Joseph had expected this and was already prepared.

He leaned his right hand on the armrest of the sofa and smiled calmly. "Why would you say that, Mr. Marat? It wasn't manipulation; it was cooperation."

"Cooperation? Hmph, a pale excuse."

Joseph replied coolly, "Let me ask you, haven't you always sought justice for society and wanted to help the oppressed?"

"Of course."

"Then there you have it. Together, we brought the most corrupt Chief Justice in Paris to justice, restoring fairness for those who had suffered unjustly and even curbing corruption throughout the judicial system. Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"

"This…" Marat hesitated. It was true—without the Prince's guidance, the High Court might still be taking bribes, manipulating the law, and oppressing ordinary citizens.

Joseph didn't give him time to dwell on it. He continued, "Mr. Marat, believe me, in punishing corruption, reducing injustice, and improving the lives of the French people, we are very much aligned."

To himself, he added: Only when people's lives improve can the monarchy remain secure...

Marat stared at Joseph in surprise. These words sounded like something a free-thinking liberal would say, but here they were, coming from the Prince.

"You... you really mean that?"

"Time will prove everything," Joseph said sincerely. "If, in a few years, the lives of the French people have not improved, then you are welcome to come back and criticize me."

Marat opened his mouth to speak but then frowned. "Regardless, Your Highness, you shouldn't have deceived me. You didn't even give me your real name!"

"You've misunderstood," Joseph replied with an innocent expression. "Xavier is indeed my middle name—Louis-Joseph-Xavier-François."

"But…"

"I didn't tell you I was the Prince, true, but you don't tell everyone you're a journalist, do you? It was just a small matter of professional privacy."

Through this exchange, Marat's initial anger gradually dissipated, and he found himself with little else to say. He prepared to take his leave.

Joseph, of course, had no intention of letting him go so easily.

He had been planning an anti-corruption bureau for some time now—corruption among officials was a serious problem that threatened France.

It's difficult for people to resist the temptation of various benefits, relying solely on their conscience. The old-style officials were bad enough, but even the newly reformed police system, if left unchecked, would eventually become as corrupt as the old one.

While reforming the administration was the ultimate solution, setting up a supervisory body was also necessary to keep officials in check.

Joseph had delayed establishing the anti-corruption bureau largely because he hadn't found the right people to investigate corruption. Using existing officials would be like having them supervise themselves, which would inevitably lead to collusion and cover-ups. Training new people from scratch would take too much time.

So he thought of Marat, Desmoulins, and others—people with sharp instincts and rich experience in investigation. Most importantly, they were probably the least likely to collude with officials.

Moreover, forming an anti-corruption bureau with these "Jacobins" had two additional benefits.

First, these people were restless; if you didn't give them something to do, they'd find something on their own, which could trigger a revolution at a critical moment. So it was better to bring them into the royal system and keep them busy.

Second, from his experience dealing with Vezinier, Joseph realized that if used correctly, people like Marat could be "piranhas" who could tear apart political enemies. They could play a crucial role in administrative reform and weakening the old nobility.

Joseph gestured for Marat to stay, speaking solemnly, "Mr. Marat, do you want this country to be more just and equal? Do you want to help more ordinary people?"

Marat slowly sat back down on the sofa and nodded. "That has always been my life's goal, Your Highness."

"I have an opportunity for you to better achieve that goal. I'm planning to establish…"

Joseph originally intended to say "anti-corruption bureau," but quickly decided that terms like "fairness" and "justice" might appeal more to Marat, so he changed it to: "... a 'Department of Fair Investigations' within the police, specifically to investigate corruption and misconduct among officials and police, to protect the legitimate rights of the people. This department will be part of the police force but will not be under its control, reporting directly to me.

"I would be honored if you would join this department."

Marat was taken aback, then suddenly stood up and said coldly, "You want me to be a tool of the royal family?"

Joseph thought to himself: You really are a Jacobin, with such an aversion to the monarchy.

He smiled and shook his head. "That's an unfair accusation.

"You wouldn't be investigating farmers or craftsmen, but high-ranking officials and powerful nobles! If you're a tool, then you'd be a tool for the people, not the monarchy."

"A tool for the people?" Marat repeated the words softly, his eyes gradually lighting up with passion.

Joseph immediately seized the moment. "I could even assign prosecutors to the Department of Fair Investigations. If you uncover evidence of corruption, you could directly bring charges against them!"

Joseph wasn't worried that Marat might target his political allies. While almost no official in this era was completely clean, Marat would only be an investigator in the department, possibly a team leader at most. Above him would be Joseph and other directors, ensuring that the department's actions remained controlled.

Marat clasped his hands together, thinking deeply for a long time before finally raising his head. "Your Highness, I don't see how I can refuse. I agree to join the Department of Fair Investigations. But let's be clear—if I find that this department doesn't align with what you've described, I'll leave immediately."

"That's your right," Joseph nodded. "I'm confident that we won't disappoint each other.

"Oh, and regarding the department's prosecutor, what do you think of that young lawyer who defended the victims in the Vezinier case?"

Marat thought for a moment. "You mean that lawyer named Danton?"

"Yes, him."

"He's an honest and brave man," Marat nodded. "But he's not a prosecutor in the High Court, Your Highness."

Joseph smiled. "He will be soon. And your friend, Mr. Desmoulins, if he joins the Department of Fair Investigations, I'm sure he'll make many corrupt officials tremble."

"Yes, Your Highness, I believe so too. I'll try to convince him."

From a second-floor window of the Planning Bureau, Joseph watched Marat's departing figure and couldn't help but muse, "If only we had Robespierre, we could form a full Jacobin squad. But letting them fight corruption is a good use of their talents."

England.

In a light gray two-story villa on the southern bank of the River Rea in Birmingham, a man's somewhat disgruntled voice could be heard: "Mr. Dupont, I believe I've made myself clear—I have no interest in your proposal."

"Mr. Watt, perhaps you could name your terms."

The door to the villa opened, and Dupont stepped out first, gesturing politely. "I'm willing to consider any request you have."

A man in his fifties, with a high nose, broad face, and piercing eyes, followed him out and gestured towards the carriage not far away. "Thank you for your offer, but I value my friends—they're all here in Birmingham, and there's the Lunar Society. France doesn't have those. I believe it's time for you to leave."

Dupont looked anxious and helpless. This time, the Prince had specifically asked Archbishop Briand to arrange for the final signing of the Anglo-French trade agreement to take place in Birmingham, to facilitate Dupont's mission. He had already approached Watt three times over the past few days but had failed to persuade the stubborn man.

Today, the Anglo-French Eden Treaty was officially signed, and he would have to return to France by tomorrow at the latest. How could he not be worried?

Dupont nodded, then turned around and played his last card: "Mr. Watt, in fact, I'm representing someone very important in inviting you…"

Just then, a middle-aged man in a black jacket with slightly drooping eyes and a somewhat simple look came walking up the path on the east side of the villa. When he heard Dupont's next words, he stopped in his tracks and hid behind a pillar.

"He's a member of the royal family, I swear—his status is beyond your imagination." Dupont stared at Watt. "He truly admires your talent and wants to help you achieve even greater technological success, so…"

Watt smiled and shook his head. "You see, I have everything I need—money, a villa, a company, a family. I have no intention of leaving Birmingham."

Dupont had no choice but to stop trying and returned to his carriage. He still didn't understand why the Prince placed so much importance on this British craftsman, but his mission to bring Watt back to France was a complete failure.

The middle-aged man hiding behind the pillar emerged, deep in thought as he watched Dupont leave. Then he knocked on the door of Watt's house and handed over some company documents for Watt to sign.

While Watt went upstairs to sign the papers, the middle-aged man stopped the housemaid and quietly asked, "Mrs. Edwin, do you remember what that gentleman said to Mr. Watt earlier? The one with the big nose?"

"I don't remember," Mrs. Edwin replied, turning to leave.

The man quickly pulled out his wallet and handed her a shilling. "I'm just curious about him. Could you recall, please?"

"Oh, alright," the maid stopped and pocketed the money. "That was a Frenchman who wanted to invite Mr. Watt to France to build a factory. Oh, and he said France was planning some kind of industrial zone and would invest a lot of money in building a steam engine factory, but Mr. Watt didn't agree."

"A steam engine factory?" The man pressed. "Did he mention how much they were planning to invest?"

"I think he said a million livres."

As the maid left, the middle-aged man clenched his fists in excitement. A million-livre investment, and it's a project that has the attention of the French royal family!

This was a golden opportunity!

With the documents signed by Watt, he didn't return to the company but instead followed Dupont's trail. After asking around, he finally found the hotel where Dupont was staying.

Joseph looked at the freshly delivered "Patent Certificate for the Preparation of Salicin" in his hand and nodded with satisfaction.

The French Patent Office was established quickly, with its organizational structure and operations modeled directly after the British system. This enabled the office to be set up swiftly. To quickly gather patent examiners, Joseph even enlisted the help of Monsieur Lagrange, who invited a group of experts.

And so, the first patent certificate in all of France was now in Joseph's hands.

Of course, Joseph had made many adjustments to the British model.

At this time in Britain, applying for a patent took at least a year to process, and the fees could reach an astonishing sum of several dozen or even a hundred pounds!

But Joseph required that the approval process be completed in three to eight months and that the fees not exceed ten livres, with the government subsidizing the Patent Office's costs.

Since the Patent Office began operating, the word spread quickly, and the Paris office received about a dozen applications daily. Many people from the provinces were on their way to Paris to apply for patents as well—currently, Paris was the only location with a Patent Office, as it was too early to expand nationwide.

Outside, Aymon's voice could be heard: "Your Highness, Mr. Dupont has arrived, and it seems he has brought a British man with him."

A British man? Joseph's heart skipped a beat—could it be Watt?

He immediately stood up. "Quick, bring them to the reception room."

Soon after, Dupont and a middle-aged man with a simple look entered the reception room, both bowing respectfully. "It's been a while, Your Highness. May God bless you."

"It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness."

Dupont awkwardly introduced the man next to him. "Your Highness, this is Mr. William Murdoch. He's an excellent steam engine technician, um… at least, that's what he says…"

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