During the revolution in Santo Domingo, it was the Jacobins who were governing France.
The revolution caused France to lose a huge inco from sugarcane, leading to the collapse of the already dire financial situation of the Jacobin governnt and ultimately its downfall.
A gleam of delight flashed in the eyes of the Duke of Leeds as he ventured, "To empower the black slaves of Santo Domingo to contend with the French people would likely require a significant amount of funding."
"Do not worry about that," Lord Grenville imdiately said, "I have already applied for 200,000 British Pounds from Congress to change the situation there.
"Moreover, you can use so of the money saved from the North Arican Indians."
"Excellent... cough, with that, I'm even more confident."
Grenville cautioned again, "Once you are in Santo Domingo, you can make contact with a man nad Vincent Orea. Our Intelligence Departnt has already established a connection with him.
"He is currently the main leader of the anti-slavery movent in Santo Domingo, highly esteed, especially among the black slaves who almost revere him as their savior.
"If you can gain his trust, the plan is sure to proceed very smoothly."
Upon hearing this, the Duke of Leeds fell silent for a mont, then suddenly the corners of his mouth curled into a cold smile, "Your thod is indeed very steady. However, we might be able to do sothing more drastic, like having this Orea assassinated, and coincidentally by a Frenchman."
"Indeed, a brilliant idea!" Grenville imdiately praised, "Your rich political experience is always worth my learning."
The two continued to discuss North Arican strategies for a while, and the carriage began to slow down.
Grenville looked out the window and saw officials from Vienna coming to greet him.
He sighed, sat back in his seat, and said to the Duke of Leeds, "Another round of ti-wasting formalities.
"Oh, we've talked for so long and have yet to ntion the most critical matter. How is the progress in pushing Prussia and Austria to cease hostilities?"
"There's been so progress." The latter said proudly, "The faction of Baron Walter is working hard to bring this about. The largest obstacle now cos from State Minister Kaunitz, as well as the Pro-France Faction he directs."
"So, we've devised so plans to try and push him out of Vienna's political center."
The carriage stopped, and Lord Grenville said helplessly, "It seems we can only talk more about this tonight."
...
Paris.
Bright sunlight stread through the gaps in the leaves onto the Champs-Elysees as two n in their thirties walked beneath the mottled shade of the trees.
"It's truly thrilling!" The taller man, with a large nose, excitedly waved his hand, speaking in German, "It's the ultimate dream of all scholars, that award stage is the place closest to heaven!
"If one day I could also stand there, even if I died on the spot, it wouldn't matter!"
He spun around on the spot, "Ah, Paris, truly a land of dreams. Praise be to His Majesty the King, and his Supre Award!"
As he spoke, the scene from the Supre Louis Award ceremony he had just attended flashed across his mind.
Inside the resplendent Tuileries Palace, the award winners were surrounded by nobles of high status and a multitude of journalists, like stars surrounding the moon.
The presenter repeatedly recited their academic contributions, eliciting thunderous applause from the surrounding crowd.
But what had left the most lasting impression on him was the dazzling pure gold trophy and the 50,000 francs in crisp new notes!
It was said that afterwards, the French King would even bestow upon them noble titles—if they were willing to accept.
It was predictable that tomorrow, newspapers across Europe would feature their nas, with everyone discussing their achievents.
This was all the glory conferred upon them by the Supre Louis Award!
However, the sowhat portly, disheveled-haired man next to him seed less enthused, "Auguste, although I don't want to dampen your spirits, the reality is that neither your mushrooms nor my beets are likely to make it onto the backup list of candidates for the Supre Louis Award committee."
"Franz, you must have confidence!" Auguste clapped him on the shoulder forcefully, "In Paris, this wonderful place, any miracle is possible!
"And aren't we right here?"
Yet with these words, Franz seed only more disheartened, "Oh, Paris, you've already received its blessing. Indeed, you have already received an invitation from the talent committee, and next week, you'll be able to move into that luxurious large house, complete with a butler and maids."
What he referred to as the "talent committee" was the official na of Joseph's Talent Introduction Plan.
Although Auguste was rated rely as an E-class talent, he would still receive a villa in the Great Scholar Palace, along with an annual allowance of several thousand francs, and yes, two beautiful Italian maids.
Should he achieve academic results, such as extracting sothing useful from those mushrooms of his, there was a chance for promotion to D-class. Then the allowance would soar to a yearly 7,000 francs, with French maids included!
But all of this had nothing to do with him anymore.
Auguste, not picking up on his tone, continued patting him, "You could receive an invitation too—you are the most talented person I know!"
"Actually," Franz stopped in his tracks, dejectedly saying, "yesterday the committee already sent a 'wait and observe' notice."
"Wait and observe" was actually a euphemism for failing the review.
The Talent Introduction Plan offered extrely high treatnt to foreign talents, so it was impossible to accept just anyone. The review threshold was quite high.
"Ah," Auguste was montarily speechless, "Next year, there's another chance to apply, you'll definitely be able to..."
"No, I have decided to return to Bavaria. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow."
"You mustn't give up," Auguste implored anxiously, "Besides, you still have Miss Marian. You can't leave and abandon her here."
"It's over between us," Franz's head hung lower, "Her brother ca to see yesterday, accompanied by two rude and fierce servants. He said that Marian is going to marry a paper rchant and that I must not approach her again.
"Yes, I'm just a poor professor from Bavaria, I'm clearly not a match for her."
The Marian he spoke of was a girl he had t after arriving in Paris, with whom he had fallen in love at first sight. However, her family was wealthy and looked down on this impoverished German scholar.
"Ah... maybe you'd like a drink?" Auguste suggested.
...
On the second floor of Tuileries Palace, Joseph enjoyed a rare leisurely mont after lunch, holding a teacup in one hand and picking up the talent recruitnt list for the first half of the year with the other.
The list wasn't long, as top-tier talents were always scarce.
He then flipped to the rejected applicants—sorted by their scores, from highest to lowest.
Ranked second was a biologist by the na of Franz Achard. His evaluation was quite interesting: high scores on all assessnt items, but the only reason for not passing the review was that his field of study was too unpopular and considered of little practical use.
Looking further, Joseph noted his main achievents were the improvent and cultivation of beets and the crystallization technique for sugar extraction by a genius.
Joseph imdiately stood up. This, this seed to be none other than Achard, the man who pioneered the beet sugar industry, transforming Germany, a country that previously didn't produce sugar, into the third-largest sugar exporter in Europe!
Such a talent was filtered out?!
The talent committee's reviewers are definitely getting a deduction from this month's salary!
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