"Viscount Plummer," also known as Mesmer, subsequently appeared with great pomp at various high-end social events in Vienna, and within just a few days, became a celebrity in the Viennese business circles—a feat he achieved with his exquisite "skills," which were at least much easier than the time he had fooled the entire nobility at the Palace of Versailles.
Many Viennese businessmen flocked to this "wealthy," "generous," and "sociable" newcomer to do business. Mesmer's residence was bustling with visitors, and even Baroness Waldner took the initiative to throw herself into his arms to become his mistress.
Yet Viscount Plummer seemed to only favor French goods, constantly talking about how popular French products were in countries across Europe. He also disdained small trades; he wouldn't even bother listening to deals less than a hundred thousand florins.
Since Austria's "penchant for French" wasn't rare, this didn't surprise anyone.
Soon, newly acquainted friends in Vienna eagerly introduced him to French goods suppliers, like Baron Graz's Manhacz Trading Company, Elwin Lenna's caravan, and Elwin Bosnia's caravan, among others.
Inside Viscount Plummer's luxurious mansion, Carolina flipped through the recently gathered data, a smile forming on his face, "All those who can offer French goods worth 100,000 florins only started placing orders in the past couple of months. Besides them, the MokeBruno Caravan, which used to trade most closely with France, has less than 30,000 florins worth of goods.
"This indicates that French goods don't have such an astonishing volume of sales in Austria, or an exciting sales prospect. Otherwise, caravans like MokeBruno would not be indifferent."
Beside him, Mesmer, adorned with eight dazzling gemstone rings and wearing the latest Parisian fashion, immediately raised his eyebrows in approval and nodded, loudly saying, "Your wisdom humbles me, you always manage to spot the crux of an issue straight away, my lord Viscount, and I..."
Then he saw Carolina glaring coldly at him and shrank his neck promptly. Lately, he had gotten used to playing the role of a wealthy merchant, still speaking in the air of Viscount Plummer.
He chuckled awkwardly, his attitude becoming much more humble, "And I've noticed something from the conversations of Vienna's nobility, that these fellows who have been ordering a lot of goods from France all have some association with a man called Kleistier.
"Graz is his butler's brother-in-law, Lenna has worked in his caravan for over a decade, and Bosnia is his business agent in Serbia."
Through the contacts of this period, Carolina was also quite astounded by the abilities of the conman before him—the latter spent his days boasting amongst the nobility, who in turn revealed many secrets to him.
You should know, the intelligence bureau had been investigating for a long time without uncovering any connections between these individuals.
"This is indeed suspicious," Carolina said as he turned to the intelligence officer, "Captain Descharette, it seems you should investigate the relationship between other orderers and this Kleistier."
"I will, Viscount Carolina."
Mesmer continued, "Furthermore, these guys all turned down my trade offers, even with personal introductions.
"Oh, I sent Baron Waldner to negotiate with Elwin Lenna on my behalf. Lenna did say he could sell some goods to him, but only if payment was made in full in advance, and he refused to provide his own bank account."
Carolina sneered, "It's just a crude trick to deceive novices."
Mesmer nodded, "That's what's so strange. They advertise in the newspapers, but they have no urgency to push their goods.
"I've inquired, and not only us, but no one has managed to strike a deal with these fellows yet."
Soon, Captain Descharette stood up, his voice grave, "I believe we can now submit a report to His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince."
Mesmer immediately thought of Baroness Waldner's seductive favors in bed and smacked his lips with a touch of regret.
Joseph, sitting in the front row with his hands mimicking a prayer, wasn't listening to Archbishop Beaumont, who was delivering the holy words on the podium, but was instead whispering to Mirabeau behind him, "The issue with wine is minor, since it can be stored for a long time. And the Steel Technology Association should be of some help, right?"
Today was Pentecost, and he was "dragged" by Queen Mary to attend the large mass, so he had to temporarily relocate his office space here.
Mirabeau helplessly said, "As you know, the competition among iron foundries is also fierce.
"All factory owners are worried that if they slow down production, others will steal their market share, so even at the risk of being penalized by the Steel Technology Association, they continue to do as they please."
Joseph instantly frowned.
Just now, Mirabeau had reported to him that, aside from a few factories completely controlled by the Industrial Development Fund, other factory owners had completely ignored his request to slow down the production pace of orders.
Even without the support of the Development Fund, they would prefer to mortgage their factories for bank loans to desperately compete for German or Italian orders.
This was the nature etched in the souls of capitalists—to chase profits at any cost, even if they had to deal with the Devil himself.
Joseph sighed and asked, "What's the current completion rate of the orders?"
Mirabeau clearly did his homework, and immediately answered, "Most factories have completed about a quarter, and some of the more efficient ones are approaching one-third."
Joseph was already pondering whether to resort to administrative or tax measures to forcibly cool down the production side.
According to Mirabeau's earlier statistics, in just these two and a half months, orders from abroad amounted to 20 to 30 million francs, which was close to the limit the Industrial Development Fund could handle.
If there were any problems with these orders, it would directly destroy the Development Fund, as well as a large number of factories.
However, once administrative or tax measures were used, it would also seriously disturb the market order in France; at the very least, it would drive investors away from industrial production.
At this moment, Fouche bent over and walked over, handing a report to Joseph, whispering, "Your Highness, just received from Vienna."
Then he hurried back to his seat under Archbishop Beaumont's glare.
Joseph smiled apologetically at Beaumont and gently unfolded the intelligence, only to see Captain Descharette's report on their actions in Vienna and Carolina's conclusion—the orders were likely problematic, and the buyers might not make the final payments.
Joseph passed the report to Mirabeau, who quickly skimmed through it and became grave as well, "Your Highness, forgive my forthrightness, but even if I showed this report to the factory owners, I'm afraid they wouldn't agree to stop production."