After talking with Grevy, Shire realized that he had a misconception about the "traditional nobility" of this era.
He had always thought that "traditional nobility" practiced top-down authoritarian rule like the nobles of the feudal era, but in fact, today’s "traditional nobility" have also changed with the times. They support elections but oppose industrialization.
The basic support of the "traditional nobility" comes from farmers, as they rely on farmers renting land or paying grain taxes for income.
However, capitalists building factories have transformed farmers into workers, causing the "traditional nobility" to lose their base and gradually their economic resources.
Thus, the struggle between the left and right is essentially a struggle by the wealthy over workers and farmers.
Left-wing capitalists call out to farmers: Come, become workers, and I’ll give you wages!
Right-wing nobles call out to farmers: Continue being farmers, and I will give you a better life!
The nobles indeed made changes, granting farmers more lenient conditions and encouraging them to produce.
As for workers, the nobles believed they were deceived and misled by the capitalists.
Capitalists treat workers like fat lambs to be sheared repeatedly and finally slaughtered; from start to finish, capitalists exploit the sweat and value of workers.
If a country continues on this path, it will inevitably face crisis and even destruction!
Therefore, traditional nobles hope to establish an agricultural society where industry merely assists and is entirely controlled by the government. It would produce in an organized, orderly, and planned manner, unlike now, where competition leads to chaos.
Grevy knew that to persuade Shire to join them, he must change Shire’s capitalist stance, hence the grand argument.
However, this was destined to be in vain.
Shire knew that industrialization was inevitable, that the traditional nobility would ultimately be marginalized, and that industrial power was the trend of the times, no matter how one struggled.
"You are wasting your time, Grevy!" Shire spoke frankly.
Since the two were to become enemies, there should be no illusions.
But Grevy persisted: "What do you want, Shire? A strong country? Look at Germany, so powerful with its imperial system, while our republic is fraught with setbacks. We could be the same. With your talents and the resources, manpower, and materials of the right wing, one day..."
Shire shook his head and said nothing.
Thinkers like Grevy could build detailed blueprints at a national level. Although the blueprint was wrong, it was certainly well-thought-out and perhaps repeatedly verified. At this point, he was firmly convinced that his ideas were correct.
Convincing such a person would certainly be futile and meaningless.
"Alright!" Grevy threw up his hands helplessly at Shire: "Even if you don’t agree with my views, you are welcome to join us anytime if you change your mind someday!"
Grevy’s words were just pleasantries, for he had already seen something in Shire’s eyes.
This young man didn’t believe in the world Grevy described and was more resolute than anyone else, as if he knew how the future would unfold.
Shire looked at Grevy with pity and sympathy, sympathizing with someone struggling in ignorance, walking in the wrong direction while searching for the truth!
Grevy understood and was deeply hurt, even beginning to question everything he firmly believed in.
Could it be that a 17-year-old child could see more clearly than he did?
Grevy could not believe it. He watched Shire’s departing figure, seeing him get into a car, and mumbled to himself:
"No, he is just blinded by money. One day he will understand!"
As Dejoka turned the car around, he glanced at the dumbfounded Grevy and asked, "What did he talk to you about?"
Shire dodged the question: "He is a man of faith, Father! He has his ideals!"
Dejoka raised his eyebrows noncommittally. It was uncommon for a noble to have ideals and faith!
On the way back, Shire felt reminded by Grevy.
If traditional nobles and emerging capitalists were natural enemies, and they could not reconcile the battle for farmers and workers.
By the principle that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, should Shire look for one or several emerging capitalists as friends?
This way, Shire wouldn’t have to face the retaliation of the traditional nobility alone! After all, with his current strength, he might not be able to contend with the two major parties of the traditional nobility.
But who should he seek?
Shire had no clue at all!
Before he knew it, he had arrived home.
Dejoka parked the car at the door, but to their surprise, Camille was not waiting at the doorway.
Usually, at this time, she would be sitting at the door, knitting a sweater while watching the direction of the factory. When she saw their car coming from afar, she would get up and wave with a smile.
With doubts in their minds, the two quickly walked to the house and pushed open the door.
Camille sat blankly at the dining table, her face pale, as if she had lost her ability to think, holding a piece of paper in her hand.
Shire immediately knew what had happened. It was a conscription order. Gallieni acted quickly; it hadn’t been long, and the conscription order had already been delivered to their home.
Camille was a beat slow. Realizing the two had returned, she suddenly rushed to Dejoka, babbling incoherently:
"Dejoka, take me to the conscription office! They must have made a mistake! They sent a conscription order to Shire!"
"Shire is only 17 years old, and they don’t care about that!"
"We... we must go to the conscription office right away, now!"
Dejoka didn’t move, and neither did Shire. They knew the situation, and going to the conscription office was meaningless.
Camille looked at the two in confusion, vaguely feeling there was something she didn’t know!
Dejoka hesitated for a moment but still didn’t tell Camille the truth:
"It’s because of Shire’s military talent, Camille!"
"They believe Shire will be of great help in this war, so they are conscripting him early!"
Camille retorted angrily: "Sending Shire to the battlefield just because of that? Those are all unverified rumors, fabricated by journalists..."
Shire took the conscription letter and looked at it, comforting: "It’s just to Paris, Mom, not to the battlefield. It says here that I will report directly to General Gallieni, and he will take care of me!"
Dejoka nodded heavily, saying confidently: "Nothing will happen, I promise. Paris is very safe, just next to Lavaz!"
In fact, Dejoka wasn’t certain. He wasn’t worried about the battlefield but about the traditional nobility.
The traditional nobility, having managed to send Shire into the military, would not easily let go.
Although Shire was smart and had military talents, he lacked social experience. Moreover, those old foxes of the traditional nobility were scheming in the dark. Afraid that...