And half a week after Lawrence acquired the Observer Daily.

On the right bank of the Seine, the Place de la Bourse is crowded with people.

It's midday, and the financiers who have finished their morning work are coming out of their offices and gathering as usual in the restaurants and cafes around the square, enjoying their expensive lunches and exchanging the latest industry news.

After all, an ill-informed financier is no different from a lame dancer.

"The recent market has been terrible."

An accountant in a silver wig stirred the coffee in his cup and shook his head at his companion and complained.

The companion echoed and nodded, saying:

"Yes, all the banks have chosen to raise interest rates at the same time, which is simply worse for the already difficult investment environment."

"But it's also because there really aren't any good projects on the market that are worth doing, and it's better to lock your money in your own safe than to put your money in a factory that is smoky and ready to close down at any time."

The accountant threw two sugar cubes into the coffee cup and sighed.

"But if you want to say that there are opportunities, I think you must know it, the one from some time ago..."

The companion thought for a moment, shook his head, and said:

"The investment made by Commerzile de France Montmartre. The fact that he's going to make such a big injection in this environment shows that there must be something extraordinary about that company."

Hearing the mention of this matter, the accountant's face couldn't help but show a little regret, and he spread his hands and said:

"It's a pity that we don't know anything about the silver company, and all we can hear in the market are unrealistic rumors."

After that, the two sighed at the same time very tacitly.

Although the market is now full of rumours about the Corsican National Silver Company, few have been able to produce conclusive evidence and confirm the source.

There are only two pieces of information that investors can be sure of now:

One is that the company is very likely to have the involvement of the French royal family.

The second is that there is indeed a silver mine on the island of Corsica, but the specific information of this silver mine is not known for the time being.

"Ugh... If this opportunity is wasted in front of me, I will regret it for the rest of my life. But now I really don't have enough information."

The accountant took a big sip of coffee and licked his lips in a depressed manner.

For those of them who deal with money all day long, the most uncomfortable thing is not that they don't make money, but that the opportunity to make a lot of money is left empty-handed because of their hesitation.

But the lack of intelligence at the moment forced them to be cautious.

In fact, this ambivalence is not only present in these two men, but also in the entire Parisian investment circle.

Even the bankers and investors at the top are no exception, smelling the opportunity in Mr. Montmartre's bold investment, but also being a little afraid of the information that is currently almost nil.

I don't know how many deep-pocketed investors have gathered their cash flow back, freed up a large amount of idle funds, and are eagerly waiting for the latest news about the company.

And just when the two of them were troubled by this, there was a strange movement at the door of the café.

I saw a small newspaper boy standing at the door of the store, who was holding up the newspaper in his hand and shouting something to the customers inside.

The accountant did not hear what the newsboy was shouting, but he was astonished to see:

As the newsboy's cries fell, a dozen gentlemen near the door of the shop were stunned for a moment, and then jumped up from their chairs regardless of their manners, and scrambled to take out money and surround the newsboy.

In the blink of an eye, a whole circle of people had gathered around the newsboy, like a pack of hungry wolves that had been hungry for three days.

Those who were the first to get the newspaper immediately anxiously returned to their seats and buried their heads in reading, and even many people took the newspaper and glanced at it a few times before running out of the café

I had to report the news to my superiors immediately, and I didn't even have time to settle the account.

"Oh my God, is something wrong?"

The accountant frowned at the café, which was already a mess, and then beckoned to an acquaintance who had already got the newspaper and asked:

"Hey! Friend, is this today's Financial News? What's going on?!"

But the other party stared at the newspaper as if he hadn't heard the accountant's words, and it wasn't until more than ten seconds passed that he reacted, and hurriedly said to the accountant:

"No, it's not Financial News, it's... Let me see... Daily Observer."

"Daily Observer? I remember it wasn't a garbage tabloid?"

The accountant glanced at the white and bright newspaper in the other party's hand in confusion, and was a little surprised that the junk newspaper had finally replaced the paper, and then asked:

"What's the news? It's like going crazy."

The man didn't even raise his head in the face of the accountant's question, and said in an impatient tone:

"I'd suggest you snap up a copy of the newspaper and read it, it's the Corsican National Silver Company that has news."

"What?!"

The accountant couldn't help but stare at each other, and made eye contact with his companion, both of whom had unconcealed surprise on their faces.

The mysterious silver company, which has attracted the attention of the financial circles of Paris and is rumored to have a royal background, has news of it?

Accountants don't have time to think about it, and in Exchange Square, business intelligence is something more valuable than gold.

He quickly took out his wallet and grabbed a few silver coins from it, and joined the rush to buy it.

After much waiting and scrambling, the accountant was lucky enough to get a copy of the latest Observer Daily and returned to his seat, eager to spread it out on the table and read it with his companion.

I saw that on the front page headline of the newspaper, there was a line of eye-catching bold bold letters:

"Insider Revealed! Exclusive disclosure of the investment of the Banco Française into the silver company of Corsica!"

Just by reading the title, the accountant swallowed nervously and pressed his eyes closer, lest he miss a single word.

The story took up two sections, and it took the two of them several minutes to read it.

But after reading the report, the faces of the two people couldn't help but show excitement and joy.

The report briefly described Monsieur Montmartre's acquisition of a quarter of the shares of the company for 1 million livres, and also revealed that the company would soon be listed on the Paris Stock Exchange under the agency of the Commetrole de France.

Don't look at this report, it can be summed up in these two sentences, but in the eyes of these shrewd financiers, the value of these two pieces of news is already immeasurable.

Not only did they see that the market capitalization of the National Silver Company was estimated to be above four million livres, but they also learned the heavy news that the company would be publicly traded on the stock exchange.

Although no further details about the company have been disclosed, these two pieces of information alone are enough for the financial institutions and banks to quickly adjust their funding structure and draw the most suitable amount of money to invest in the company.

As the flywheel in the printing house continued to turn, so did the money in the Parisian financial circles, and a financial storm was brewing that would sweep through the entire Île-de-France.

And at the end of this story, the accountant was also keenly aware that there was also a line in bold font indicating that the Daily Observer would be revealing more exclusive information about Corsican National Silver in the future.

"This..."

The companion took a deep breath of cold air and said slowly:

"I really don't know why this newspaper suddenly came to this news, could it be... Did Lord Bonaparte disclose it on his own initiative?"

The accountant was flipping through the back report, and after hearing his companion's speculation, he suddenly pointed to an editorial in the back section and said:

"No way, look here, this

It was an editorial that criticized and satirized the Bonaparte governor, saying that a foreigner like him should not hold a royal position at all. Oh my God, these criticisms are so sharp and completely unrelenting."

"Shhhh It seems that this newspaper is dominated by the political enemies of Governor Bonaparte, and they must have deliberately released this news."

The companion touched his chin and analyzed it carefully, and put forward a very reasonable and mainstream guess.

"I guess so."

The accountant nodded quickly, then stuffed the coffee in his cup and the unfinished dessert into his mouth, rolled up the newspaper on the table, and stood up to leave.

"Huh? Why are you suddenly in such a hurry, where are you going?" The companion asked, a little confused.

"Didn't you see, the newspaper said they would continue to reveal the exclusive information about that company in the future."

The accountant straightened up his clothes, threw a few silver coins on the table, and said as he walked out:

"I need to go to the post office and order the annual Observer Daily, and I can't miss the latest news."

"Oh, you really reminded me, I have to go too, we just happened to be in a carriage."

......

The scene in the café is just a microcosm of the Place de la Bourse, and now the heart of the entire Parisian financial world is boiling over this newspaper.

The first thing the financiers said when they met was not a greeting, but a question if they had read today's Observer Daily.

All of a sudden, today's Daily Observer has become a scarce commodity and hard currency in Exchange Square, and there are even people willing to buy it for twenty livres.

The little newsboys, who had been so badly blinded on a daily basis, became the stars of the city for a short time, and people in every corner of the square were tirelessly smiling and asking if they had any of the Observer daily newspapers left.

Even authoritative newspapers such as Financial News have become almost unattended reading materials in today's Exchange Square.

The drunken analysts and actuaries at the lunch table were dragged back into their offices by their managers before they could wake up, demanding that they immediately analyze the latest news from the Observer.

Investors even spread today's newspapers on the table, carefully reading and speculating on every word, trying to extract every bit of information from it.

There are even people with bright minds who get on the carriage to the newspaper office directly with a large check, trying to find out more information directly from the newspaper; Of course, they were all politely invited back by President Haythami.

And outside the Exchange Square, today's Daily Observer also caused quite a stir.

In an ordinary flower shop on the banks of the Seine, a female worker looked at the newspaper in the hand of another female clerk and asked very strangely:

"Huh? My dear, why do you suddenly look at the newspaper? This newspaper doesn't seem cheap, and we're paid twenty livres a month."

The female clerk raised the newspaper in Yang's hand and said with a smile:

"Actually, it's not expensive, this one only costs five surs, and the content is weirdly interesting, I mainly look at the inside."

"Yes, but it's a lot of money to spend five surs a day."

The female worker shook her head, not interested in the newspaper in the clerk's hand.

"It's not the point." The female clerk laughed twice, brought the newspaper to the female worker, pointed to a string of individual numbers on it, and said:

"It says that the newspaper will conduct a public lottery every month, and as long as the number is successful, you can directly get 500 livres!"

"Five hundred?! Oh my God, it's like a lottery, but it seems to be cheaper than a lottery ticket..."

The woman looked at the newspaper and muttered, and then, unable to resist the temptation of the five hundred livres, counted out a few moldy copper coins from her purse, and called the newsboy on the street to buy a copy of the daily Observer, and took it as a chance.

...

And in Building 78 on Maison Avenue, President Haytham is in full swing

Yidi invited another investor who came to inquire about the news.

At this time, he was no longer the decadent appearance he had a few days ago, and the shabby dress on his body was also thrown directly into the garbage heap by him, and changed into a more shiny and supple black dress.

Although the small building was still as dilapidated and smelling as ever, President Haytham felt for the first time that his persistence over the years had been worth it.

Today is the first day of the official publication of the new edition of the daily observer, and President Haytham has not closed his eyes almost all night because of his dereliction of duty, for fear that he will delay the important affairs of His Excellency Bonaparte.

However, halfway through the day, President Haytham received repeated requests from the printing press to reprint, and learned that the daily newspaper of the Observer was close to being out of stock.

Although there are no official statistics, President Haytham can estimate that the sales of the Observer Daily have exceeded 10,000 copies.

This is something that President Haytham has dreamed of for many years and has not been able to achieve, and he never thought that he would ever have such an exciting moment in his life.

He even wanted to bring his cherished champagne to the newspaper office to open it and let the foam spray freely in every corner of the office.

Of course, in addition to the excitement, President Haytham did not forget who brought this achievement to him.

"Bonaparte, he really is—"

A few tears welled up in the corners of President Haython's eyes, and he muttered Lawrence's name in an almost reverent tone.

As a veteran editor, he knows exactly what is the most important factor in getting the Observer out of stock today.

It was undoubtedly the inside scoop that Lawrence provided about the Corsican National Silver Company.

Thinking of this, President Haytham hurriedly wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, put aside his excitement for the time being, and rearranged his appearance and sat back at his desk.

He was to repay the favor of His Excellency Bonaparte with his work.

...

At the same time, while the Parisian financial circles were ignited by this small newspaper, Lawrence, the initiator of all this, did not personally witness what happened.

On the Île de la Cité, just over four hundred meters from Notre-Dame Cathedral, the Palais de Justice in Paris.

Lawrence was standing in front of the gates of the Palace of Justice, admiring the building, which symbolizes law enforcement and law, mercy and strength.

It is the seat of the High Court of Paris and the office of the Marquis de Mup, Justice of France.