Napoleon's Plan

Paris lay slightly farther north than Harbin by latitude alone. But thanks to the warm Atlantic currents, its winters were quite mild. Even at the end of November, the sunlight in Paris was still warm.

Joseph walked along a street strewn with fallen leaves, a short figure by his side.

"Ah, Napoleon, your idea is a good one. But I don't think what you're doing will have any effect. In fact, it's very likely to make people resent you." Joseph shook his head gently as he walked. "Napoleon, do you know what I admire most about you? Your courage. Whatever you see, you're bold enough to do. You believe you can overcome every obstacle, and nothing can stop you. You never let 'I don't dare' follow 'I want to.' That's a wonderful quality. Many heroes throughout history have overcome every difficulty, achieved great things, and become immortal legends because they possessed it.

"But remember this: there's only a hair's breadth between confidence and arrogance. Often, when you're about to do something, you should think it through. First, figure out what your goal is and what will truly benefit you. Then consider the limits of your strength. What lies beyond your reach for now, and what shouldn't you force yourself to do?

"I'm never afraid that thinking things over will make you lose your courage. But I'm always worried you'll suffer for overestimating yourself and underestimating others. Take this time, for instance. Tell me, what are you trying to accomplish with this?"

Napoleon listened, then smiled smugly.

"My foolish brother, do you really think I'm worried that the French military academy will turn all those French nobles into lazy swine? No, no. Is it really a bad thing if those French noble officers are a little foolish? If every one of them were as clever and brave as I am, then our cause would have no future at all."

"Then why are you doing this?" Joseph blurted out, forgetting even to scold Napoleon for daring to infringe on his patent.

"My foolish brother, has your pitiful intellect finally given out? Can't you figure out something this simple?" Napoleon seized the rare opportunity to pay Joseph back in full for all the things he'd said to him before.

Joseph stopped and turned to stare at Napoleon. Napoleon lifted his chin smugly and met his gaze.

"Ha ha ha..." Joseph suddenly burst out laughing. "My foolish brother, you aren't trying to graduate early this way, are you?"

"What?" Napoleon's smug smile froze. "Why would you think that?"

In his previous life, Joseph had seen a movie about Napoleon. It briefly mentioned that the unconventional Napoleon had studied at the Paris Military Academy for only a year before graduating early because of his outstanding grades. Joseph hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, thinking it over, given Napoleon's temperament and his barely concealed hostility toward the French nobility, there was no way early graduation could have been a reward. It was probably...

"Your accusations against them are harsh, but wherever you made them, they'd be entirely correct in principle. As correct as telling a Catholic priest, 'You should be devout and chaste.' So even though your accusations will offend them, they won't be able to punish you on those grounds.

"And then your grades in every subject will leave them with nothing to criticize—yes, I'm sure that's what you're thinking. They'll hate you all the more and want to get rid of you as soon as possible. But they can't get rid of you by punishing you, so the best thing they can do is say your grades are excellent and let you graduate early. As far as I know, there's precedent for that at the Paris Military Academy. So, my foolish brother, that's what you're thinking, isn't it?"

"Good heavens!" Napoleon said. "I'd like to deny it, but you... You're not quite as stupid as I thought."

Joseph knew that although Napoleon was putting on a tough front, he had to be astonished. That made Joseph feel rather smug too. He nearly blurted out, "You little monkey, you think you can escape from the Buddha's palm?" But he wondered whether Journey to the West had been translated widely enough to be well known yet, and Napoleon wouldn't understand the allusion. So he swallowed the words and sighed, feeling a little unsatisfied.

"What do you think of my plan? What are the odds it'll work?" Napoleon asked. He was disappointed that his brother had seen through him, but he was used to that, so it hadn't shaken him too badly.

"That depends on you, Napoleon. To carry out your plan, you have to make sure those people who hate you can't find a single flaw in your studies," Joseph said. "As far as I know, most of the students at the Paris Military Academy are noblemen..."

"Not most. Almost all of them," Napoleon corrected him.

"Many of them really do live in luxury. Just as you said, they're sunk in pleasure, wasting their precious time on drinking, bragging, fine food, and showing off their carriages, servants, and mistresses. Your intelligence isn't especially remarkable, but beating people like that in their studies should be a breeze for you.

"Alcohol and women have already destroyed what little intelligence they had to begin with. Their minds aren't much better than those of red-haired gorillas now. It's only natural that you'd beat those red-haired gorillas. But not all nobles are like that. The Paris Military Academy is large, after all, and it's possible there are one or two outstanding students among them. So don't get too careless."

"I know that for certain. Besides, I study to improve myself as much as possible, not to beat anyone else. So wherever I am, I won't slack off," Napoleon replied.

Joseph had no trouble believing that. When it came to loving study, Napoleon was a model student. Throughout his life, whether leading a great army across the snow-covered Alps or imprisoned on Saint Helena, he spent every spare moment with a book in his hands.

"Then I think there's a good chance you'll graduate early. But you might not get a very good posting afterward," Joseph said.

"For people like us, from Corsica, what kind of posting could I get, even if I spent every day playing lackey and jester to them? Besides, our future lies in Corsica, not France," Napoleon replied, unconcerned.

Joseph nearly laughed at that. He knew that later, during the French Revolution, Napoleon would fall out with Paoli, then his idol, precisely because he opposed Corsican independence. Their dispute would eventually come to blows.

"Corsica is simply too small," Joseph sighed.

"You're right," Napoleon said. "It is a serious problem. Even if each of us could take on ten men, it would be hard to defeat France by our own strength alone. But France has serious internal problems now, and perhaps other countries will support us in the future."

"Like Mr. Paoli is in Britain now?" Joseph asked.

"Yes. But I don't think Britain is necessarily reliable either," Napoleon said. "The British have betrayed others more than once. They might be willing to cause trouble for France, but bleed for Corsica? They'd probably rather have Corsica bleed for them. At most, they'll give us a little money. That's how Britain helped Prussia during the Seven Years' War. But Corsica is so small—how much blood can it shed? And yet, it's precisely because the odds are so long that I'm full of fighting spirit."

"My brother, when you say that, you sound like a character from the works of Virgil or Homer," Joseph said.

"Ah, my brother, that's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard you say," Napoleon said happily. "You're right. I'm not one of the weak mediocrities of this age. I'm a hero from the time of Homer."

"Ah, my foolish brother, remember this: a person's abilities are like the numerator of a fraction, while their opinion of themselves is the denominator. The larger the denominator, the smaller the fraction," Joseph said with another laugh.

"Hmph!" Napoleon wasn't bothered by Joseph's habitual sarcasm. He was long used to it.

"Oh, right, Joseph. You'll be graduating soon. What are you planning to do afterward?" Napoleon asked.

"Me? I might go back to Corsica and become a priest," Joseph replied.

"You're lying," Napoleon said. "Your eyes tell me your heart has already taken wing. You've long thought Corsica is too small for you. Besides, I don't think you believe the Church has much of a future."

"All right," Joseph sighed. Having an overly clever younger brother was a problem. "I plan to leave Paris for a while, lie low in Corsica, and keep my eyes wide open, watching Paris and waiting for trouble to break out."

"Trouble?" Napoleon asked. "What do you mean?"

"Of course, the story of England repeating itself in France," Joseph said.

"England's story?" Napoleon asked. "What story?"

"Of course, the story of Lord Protector Cromwell," Joseph said. "Have you seen the recently published information about the royal household's income and expenses?"

"No," Napoleon said. "I don't spend much time with my classmates, and I don't go out much."

"If the reports are reliable, the royal household is spending more than it earns and is on the verge of bankruptcy," Joseph said. "It's piled up a mountain of debt, and the nobles and wealthy people are no longer willing to lend it money. I expect the royal household will have to raise taxes. And once it imposes taxes on a large scale, given the mood throughout France, a revolution will be just around the corner."