French Empire: But Napoleon IV

Chapter 100 Drema's Satisfying Ejaculation

Chapter 101 Drema's Pleasurable Orgasm (Seeking first subscription, collection, and continued reading)

Just as the bankers, who were unwilling to leave for their wealth, and the royalists, who valued their lives and wanted to leave Paris first, were arguing endlessly, the door to the conference room was kicked open by a very stylish 44-foot foot.

Before Bigfoot's owner even entered the room, several military police officers armed with rifles rushed in and pointed their guns at the people in the conference room.

"Don't move, you're under arrest."

The group of Fuld and others, who had been making a ruckus, were suddenly shocked. Those gunshots were indeed a very bad sign.

"How dare you gendarmes trespass into the Prime Minister's residence! Do you know who I am? I am Count Orléans of Paris!"

While the bankers remained silent, showing little respect, Orléans, who valued his life but had to maintain his aristocratic demeanor, shouted at the gendarmes with a fierce but inwardly weak voice, trying to intimidate them with his status.

But Orleans' shout only brought Drema in, who slowly walked in from behind the military police. The victor, with his hands in his pockets, walked arrogantly to these people he used to look up to.

"Ah, it's Mr. Orleans. Long time no see, how have you been?"

"Drema?!"

Upon seeing that it was a military police uniform, Orleans had some suspicions. After his suspicions were confirmed, he still couldn't help but widen his eyes and stare at Drema in disbelief.

"It's you? What are you doing here? Did you bring these people?"

After asking three consecutive questions, Drema, who knew exactly how shocked Orleans was, walked up to Orleans, looked the royal heir up and down, and then sneered.

This smile made Orléans' face turn green. Orléans was truly regretful. He and Ferdinand had only come to the Prime Minister's residence after they thought it was safe, wanting to personally participate in the distribution ceremony of this grand feast.

Now, this choice has turned him into Drema's prisoner. In the past, even if Drema held a powerful position like Commander of the Paris Gendarmerie, he wouldn't have given him a second glance.

"Mr. Orleans, do you really think you've won? I really don't see how you're better than His Highness. Oh, and you, Ferdinand, you two heirs to the throne, I don't look as good as His Highness either."

"How about?"

The more you kill someone, the more you destroy their spirit. After being mocked by Drema, Orleans, who dared not retaliate, turned even greener.

However, from Drema's words, he at least gleaned some meaning: Drema had sided with Eugène. No, that couldn't be right. Orleans, realizing that he might have been Eugène's man all along, looked at Drema in disbelief.

Orleans was unwilling to accept this fact, because it would make them look stupid, since this fact meant that their actions had been under Eugène's watchful eye from beginning to end.

"You...you're really Eugene's man?"

"Genuine or genuine."

Drema's words shattered Orléans' illusions. The military police commander, when questioned by Orléans, did not speak as he had spoken to the guards outside.

Instead, he readily nodded and admitted it. There were no outsiders here, and Drema, who knew how to break down the other party's psychological defenses, could tell the truth.

"I have been infiltrating your ranks under His Highness Eugène's orders, all for this day. Now, the telegraph office, the Bank of France, the various train stations—by the reckoning, they should all be under our control again. What you call a revolution" is over."

"No! This is impossible!"

Unable to accept this fact, unable to accept being manipulated by a 14-year-old child, Orleans screamed wildly.

"We have over ten thousand men, and Troch will lead us to defeat you. You're lying to me, you're deceiving me."

Orleans's blunt remarks obviously didn't anger Drema; instead, they made him laugh as if he'd heard the funniest joke.

Having met Eugène, Drema knew a little about Eugène's assessment of Troche.

"You actually expect that cowardly, psionic freak to help you? Let me tell you the truth, Troch is barely able to protect himself now."

His secret envoy, whom he sent to negotiate with the Prussians, has been intercepted by His Highness's men. After dealing with you all, he'll be next.

We've won so much, we're numb with excitement.

To win, you have to win big, not just win small wins, you have to win completely.

Eugene knew that the Republican government would send a signal to Prussia to negotiate, so how could he not be on guard against this move? If he could get his hands on the relevant letters, it would be a huge blow to the Republican Party.

To be honest, Drema doesn't know whether His Highness has received the relevant letter or not, but that doesn't stop him from making a joke.

Clearly, the mentally unstable Orleans took Drema's words seriously. The heir to Orleans's leg went weak, and he slumped into a chair with a thud.

From the very beginning, they were manipulated by Eugène; every move they made was within his expectations. Their so-called revolution was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated play by Eugène to eliminate dissidents and consolidate his power.

Once they understood this, it had a profound impact on them.

Not only Orleans, but also Ferdinand, Fuld, and others, all had ashen faces and slumped in their chairs.

What else could be said? They were complete losers, utterly defeated, and speechless. They already knew that if what Drema said was true, then it was all over, they were finished.

Seeing that they had lost interest in arguing and were feeling disheartened, Drema smacked his lips, then waved his hand, and the military police stepped forward and handcuffed Orléans, Fuld, and the others.

"Take them downstairs and lock them in the basement. Remember to keep a close watch on them and don't allow anyone to touch them."

Knowing that the royalists were very powerful, and that the two factions might also have some influence within the military police, Drema, still somewhat wary, added a note to ensure the safety of the surveillance.

The military police, heeding Drema's instructions, escorted the dejected Orleans and others out of the conference room.

Drema then went into the garden, looked at the dark night sky, and smiled. He then looked to the side and saw the military police pushing out a 12-pound Napoleon cannon from the Lobo barracks.

This cannon was specially reserved. Afterwards, the military police loaded the signal flares and spent more than a minute firing three green signal flares into the sky.

Three green signal flares exploded in succession in the night sky, forming three dazzling green flowers that illuminated the entire Paris night sky.