I am the Crown Prince of France

Chapter 162: Chapter 162: France's Biggest Corruption Scandal



Chapter 162: France's Biggest Corruption Scandal

Lavoisier became even more excited—this Prince was aiming to unify not just the academic world of France but perhaps all of Europe with these standardized units!

But Joseph seemed unsatisfied: "Once the measurement units are standardized, the Standards Committee will still have plenty of work to do.

"For instance, we can set national industrial standards—like the hardness and strength of steel, the purity of liquids, the specifications for bolts, the width of carriage wheels, and so on—so that every aspect of industrial production has clear guidelines to follow.

"We could even standardize the tools used by craftsmen across various industries. This way, no matter where they are in the country, they can quickly find the tools they need…"

As Joseph continued to speak, Lavoisier's eyes widened with each word. He could sense that with every sentence the Prince uttered, the foundation of France's academic and industrial sectors was becoming increasingly solid!

Suddenly, Lavoisier interrupted him: "Your Highness, I think I should call on Mr. Lagrange, Mr. Monge, and the others to come and hear your grand plans.

"Perhaps today, right here, we can officially establish the 'French Standards Committee!'"

By nightfall, a group of France's most distinguished scientists were yawning as they left Lavoisier's home.

At the door, they stopped, turned, and bid farewell to the Prince.

Joseph was also quite tired, but he warmly invited them, "Please come to Versailles tomorrow so we can continue discussing the Standards Committee."

Lagrange, Monge, Condorcet, and the others bowed and agreed before departing, though each of them couldn't help but reflect on how they had once thought the French Academy of Sciences moved too slowly. Now, with the Prince driving things forward, the pace felt almost too fast...

If only there could be a balance between the two.

After saying his goodbyes to Lavoisier, Joseph was about to get into his carriage when he suddenly remembered something. He turned back to the chemist and said, "Mr. Lavoisier, I have some advice for you.

"While being a tax collector is profitable, it's also full of tedious tasks that take up a lot of your time—time that could be spent on research. Besides, the government might soon abolish the tax farming system, so it might be wise to step away from this business in advance."

The reason Joseph mentioned this was that the upcoming tax reform could severely impact the interests of tax farmers, and Lavoisier would likely suffer financial losses.

"Ah? Well…" Lavoisier hesitated, clearly reluctant to give up the nearly 80,000 livres in annual income, even though the Prince had suggested it.

Joseph continued, "You don't need to worry about your income. Once mercury fulminate starts production, I plan to invest in some chemical industries. You could join in as a technical partner, and I can guarantee that you'll earn much more than you do from tax farming."

With industries like coal tar processing, chemical fertilizer production, and synthetic dyes—sectors with enormous potential and profitability—Joseph, now having Lavoisier and his wife on board, wasn't going to miss out on these opportunities.

Lavoisier's eyes lit up. Truth be told, he much preferred getting involved in chemical projects over dealing with the daily grind of tax collection.

He immediately bowed deeply in gratitude. "Thank you for your generosity, Your Highness. May God bless you!"

After Paris's Charity Week came to an end, the months-long Paris Fashion Week series of events officially concluded.

The citizens of Paris felt as if they had just celebrated a long holiday. Though it had been busy and intense, they had all reaped tangible benefits from the festivities.

Simply renting out their homes to visitors had allowed many Parisian families to earn more than a month's usual income.

And while few noticed, the praise from foreign visitors about Paris and its Fashion Week greatly boosted the citizens' confidence and pride.

While Parisians were busy cleaning up the rooms where guests had stayed, at the port of Marseille, two ordinary merchant ships and one armed merchant vessel, escorted by the Royal Navy's frigate Double Wings, slowly sailed into the Mediterranean.

The merchant ships flew the Russian flag and bore the name "Gemini Trading Company" on their sides. However, apart from a few Russian advisors, the ships' captains and crews were all French or Italian.

The cargo holds were filled mainly with wine and brandy, along with some mid-range ready-made garments, cosmetics, and paper products.

The fleet's destination was Crimea, on the Black Sea. By the time they arrived, Count Bobrinsky's men would be ready with a large quantity of flax and iron, ready to load onto the ships.

Although this trade mission was small in scale, it marked a significant and symbolic step forward—the beginning of a new chapter in Russo-French trade.

Wearing a gray short coat and an old felt hat, Marat looked up at the house number before raising his hand to knock on the door.

The door cracked open, revealing a pair of brown eyes that peeked out. Then, a derisive laugh followed. "Ha, I wondered who it was. Isn't this the government's lapdog? You're not welcome here!"

Marat blocked the door with his hand and said in a deep voice, "Think what you want, but I swear, I've always been a friend of the people."

The homeowner's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Oh, sure, since secret police barely count as people. You can pledge your noble friendship with your government salary."

"I've told you many times," Marat replied, a bit annoyed, "the place I work for is called the Bureau of Fair Investigation, not the secret police! I conduct investigations, but I target corrupt officials. I've never done anything to harm the people!"

The man inside seemed to soften a bit. "Alright, Mr. Fair Investigator, but you should still leave."

But Marat wasn't about to be dismissed. He forcefully pulled the door open, stepped inside, and addressed the astonished middle-aged man before him, "Do you know that if you kick me out now, you'd actually be harming countless Parisians?"

"Oh? Don't accuse me of something like that. I've never done such a thing."

Marat shut the door behind him and, with practiced familiarity, led the man further into the room. "You think I want to work for the government? Of course not!

"But if I can use the government's power to help more ordinary people, then I have to do it. Besides, this Prince is nothing like the blood-sucking nobles…"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway, let's get to the point. Do you know how much the guy I'm investigating right now has embezzled?"

The brown-eyed man shrugged. "Fifty thousand livres? Or eighty thousand?"

When Marat shook his head, the man scoffed. "Could it be a hundred thousand?"

"No, you're still wrong," Marat said slowly, his voice low and deliberate. "The amount he's embezzled might be over ten million livres…"

End of Chapter

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