Chapter 737 - 737: One Step Closer to Controlling Public Opinion

The Meuse River defensive line was completely sealed off by around six in the morning the next day.

It should have happened sooner—after all, it was only about sixty kilometers from Bichancourt to Mézières.

But unlike before, this stretch of road had been heavily patrolled by Tijani's mechanized division. There was barely any organized resistance left.

Friendly forces also helped coordinate along the route, and to speed up the advance, Foch had ordered his troops to borrow bicycles—or even ride taxis.

So why the delay?

Because German troops were surrendering all along the way.

Last night, Foch had sent a telegram, his excitement practically leaping off the page:

"In all my years of military service, I've never seen so many prisoners, nor such obedient Germans."

"They jumped out of the darkness and surrendered—their numbers were several times that of our vanguard."

"My God! They could have wiped out our vanguard and broken through… but they chose surrender."

"I don't understand why… Are these even the Germans I know?"

Since it was flagged as low-priority, Charles only saw the telegram when he woke up that morning.

He chuckled.

Foch had been a military academy director for too long—he didn't understand what "fear of the unknown" meant.

The Germans in the encirclement were gripped by panic. They had no idea what was waiting for them.

So when they saw French soldiers, their first thought was:

"The French are already here?"

And infantry, no less. Did that mean the bridges ahead were already in French hands?

If so, what was the point of fighting on?

Unless they could swim across the Meuse River, they had no choice but to surrender.

They even feared that if they opened fire, they might provoke brutal retaliation from the French—who might then refuse to accept any surrender.

In short, the surrounded German troops were like startled birds.

They had lost the ability to reason through what was actually in front of them.

By 7 a.m., the news hit the stands. Once again, Merit Daily beat all other newspapers.

The event had occurred around six—too tight a window for other papers to print and distribute by seven.

But Kobdo had his own method.

He had laid out two versions of the newspaper the night before: one with news of victory, one without. Both had been printed overnight.

So when the victory was confirmed, he simply released the one with the winning headline.

Other newspapers were stunned.

They would need at least ten more hours to publish an extra edition—and even then, they lacked full details.

They could only watch as Merit Daily flew off the shelves while their own issues went untouched.

Some couldn't help but grumble:

"This is cheating! Merit Daily has access to far more intelligence—and gets it faster."

"Honestly, I think Charles timed the final encirclement just to match the paper's release window."

"Yes! Our newspapers report the victory afterward, but the military seems to operate on Merit Daily's publishing schedule!"

Charles was wrongly accused—though he did care about his paper, he hadn't gone so far as to time battles to match its layout.

Still, he was more than happy to see Merit Daily surpass 3.5 million copies, becoming France's top-selling newspaper.

Combined with the 800,000 circulation of The Little Journal, Charles was inching ever closer to controlling the flow of public opinion.

(Note: The sales of The Little Journal were also declining due to Merit Daily's rise. But Charles occasionally leaked exclusive content to The Little Journal to keep it alive.)

At breakfast, Charles sat in a crisp military uniform, sipping milk and munching on an apple pastry while flipping through Merit Daily.

Camille had bought three copies—so no one in the house had to fight over it.

The front page headline read:

"The Most Breathtaking Tactical Maneuver in History Comes to a Triumphant End"

It was accompanied by a photo of the 1st Armored Division on the march and a detailed map of the entire maneuver.

The article declared:

"While we were still marveling at the flanking operations at Antwerp and Hasselt, another even more astonishing maneuver unfolded before our eyes."

"Our forces crossed the Ardennes, took Mézières, and appeared behind German lines before pushing along the Meuse to break through Verdun."

"Unbelievable—tens of thousands of German troops were shaken by a mere twenty thousand under Charles, and couldn't even fight back."

"The only person who can defeat Charles is Charles himself. No one else even saw this coming."

Camille was thrilled, though she was more excited about the neighbors' reactions than the war itself.

She was multitasking in the kitchen—cooking breakfast, reading the paper, and shouting proudly toward Charles and Deyoka at the table:

"Did you see the extra guards out front? Lieutenant Colonel Laurent added more men early this morning!"

"If he hadn't, the neighbors would've surrounded us by now."

"He's been turning people away all morning—some even came from the outskirts of town. He told me he needs an entire infantry regiment just to keep order!"

Charles joked: "He's just using this as an excuse to ask for a promotion."

Deyoka chuckled: "That's what he told me too. Said he only got promoted to lieutenant colonel because there weren't enough troops protecting Charles."

Camille didn't quite get the joke. She walked out of the kitchen with two glasses of warmed milk and said earnestly:

"No, he's not that kind of person. He loves his job and does it well."

Charles and Deyoka exchanged a knowing smile.

Humor, after all, isn't something that needs to be explained—doing so ruins the effect.

"So, you planned all this from the start?" Deyoka asked, lifting the newspaper.

"I mean the part about going through the Ardennes and then advancing along the Meuse."

"No, Father," Charles replied. "Part of it was planned, like advancing through the Ardennes to Mézières—because the Germans weren't prepared."

Deyoka nodded: "And after that, you had to improvise because you didn't know how the Germans would react."

"Exactly," Charles said. "That's the advantage of armored and mechanized forces—they can react quickly to changing conditions."

Deyoka nodded thoughtfully. "That's very much like business. Often there's no fixed plan—you have to adapt as the situation evolves."

Charles was surprised. He hadn't expected Deyoka to understand it so deeply.

He now believed Deyoka might make a better military commander than most of France's generals—many of whom were as stubborn as rocks.

What Charles didn't know was that his casual statement had shocked Deyoka deeply.

In business, a mistake costs you money. In war, even one mistake could cost your life.

How on earth had Charles made it so far down this path?

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