Just as Jerome Bonaparte and others were discussing whether Baron Lionel Rothschild was a friend or foe.
In a three-story mansion near Chai Si Alley in West London, a middle-aged man with brown hair and a robust figure was peering through the ornate glass of the mansion, gazing at the hustle and bustle of Chai Si Alley. He smiled slightly and murmured to himself, "What a group of ignorant and fearless yet lovely people!"
Then he shook his head, sighed, and lamented, "Unfortunately, you are not children of the era! Of course, neither am I, but I possess much more than you do!"
The middle-aged man's words carried the inherent arrogance of someone with wealth. He shut the glass, turned around, and walked directly to the carved rosewood desk.
At this moment, the desk was filled with various certificates and bills, along with information from stock exchanges across Europe and America.
With this information and the bills, the middle-aged man could always make the right decisions promptly.
Information, be it in the 19th century or the 21st century, is always the most useful thing.
Of course, all this is based on whether the information has the corresponding timeliness. Once the information is past its optimal effectiveness, its role and value will greatly diminish.
If the information exceeds its timeframe, it will become worthless.
Thanks to the large and convenient information network operated by the Rothschilds, the timeliness of the Rothschild Clan's information is often known before the information itself is even in transit.
Indeed, the middle-aged man before us is none other than Baron Lionel Rothschild, the helm of the Rothschild Bank in London, known to later generations as the "19th-century financial ruler." It's hard to imagine that Lionel Rothschild, holding a third of the Rothschild Empire's capital, had just passed his 40th birthday.
Lionel Rothschild looked at the pile of bills on the desk, which had formed a small hill. He sat down, pulled out a bill, and sighed.
The bill prominently said "Bank of France" with an amount of 1 million francs.
This was a bearer certificate, which Baron Lionel Rothschild could exchange for an equivalent amount of gold francs at the Bank of France.
However, that was before the revolution occurred; after the revolution, everything changed. The provisional government began to restrict the exchange of these certificates, and the panic caused by political turmoil spread throughout Paris, with everyone desperately trying to convert certificates into equivalent gold francs.
After all, who knew which day the Bank of France might go bankrupt? The chaos brought by the revolution made the credibility of all banks in Paris perilous overnight, and even Rothschild Bank faced the risk of a run.
Certificates at this time were quickly becoming a pile of useless waste paper, even the so-called Midas-touch Rothschild had no solution.
London, Paris, Frankfurt, the three branches supporting the Rothschild Clan, all suffered varying degrees of damage between 1847 and 1848.
The valuable carved rosewood door produced a dull knocking sound, pulling Lionel Rothschild from his realm of thought back to reality.
Lionel Rothschild put down the bill, rested his hands on the desk, and in a deep voice said, "Come in!"
This voice was plain, cold, yet seemed to have a magical power of controlling the world.
The door opened, and the elderly person responsible for delivering messages appeared at the doorway of the study.
"Sir!" The old man greeted in front of Baron Lionel Rothschild.
"Hmm!" Lionel Rothschild slightly lifted his eyelids and asked in a calm and cold tone, "What about the task I asked you to do?"
"Sir!" The old man humbly responded, "Prince Jerome Bonaparte was not at home, I have given the invitation to Prince Jerome Bonaparte's attendant, Prince Jerome Bonaparte will be very pleased to receive your invitation! After all, Prince Jerome Bonaparte is merely a prince in name only, while you and your Rothschild Clan are the undisputed uncrowned kings of not only all of London but the entire Europe, the offspring of God!"
Facing the butler's flattery, Lionel Rothschild still showed no emotional fluctuation, for he knew the old man's excessive efforts to flatter him were merely for finding a bank for his descendants to work as accountants.
Every accountant of a Rothschild bank has been selected after layers of tests by the Rothschild Clan, and they will have the opportunity to understand the inside information and management methods of a bank.
If they are exceptionally talented, they might even independently open a branch outside of Rothschild Bank.
The power of finance gave Lionel Rothschild unparalleled authority, allowing him to be the honored guest of various countries.
"Hmm! I understand!" Lionel Rothschild responded.
The old man expressed his respect to Lionel Rothschild once again before closing the door and leaving.
Inside the study, only Lionel Rothschild was left alone. Staring at the empty study, Lionel Rothschild murmured to himself, "Jerome Bonaparte, are you worthy of my investment like your cousin?"
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"Are you really planning to go alone?"
In the St. James's King Street Mansion, Percy looked at Jerome Bonaparte, who was about to set off, and asked again.
"The invitation from Europe's uncrowned king, Rothschild, how could I not attend! Besides, the Rothschild Clan can't possibly eat me, can they?" Jerome Bonaparte jokingly said to Percy.
"But..." Percy was somewhat worried that the Rothschild Clan might not be favorable to Jerome Bonaparte.
Jerome Bonaparte patted Percy's shoulder to reassure him, "Rest assured, wait for the news of my triumphant return! Maybe we will have an additional generous sponsor!"
Percy did not try to dissuade Jerome Bonaparte anymore; once again, Fleury served as the coachman to take Jerome Bonaparte.
Jerome Bonaparte arrived ten minutes before eight in the evening at the location mentioned in the invitation.
At this time, it was already late; kerosene lamps were lit on both sides of the carriage and along the roadside.
The carriage slowly stopped by the roadside, Fleury opened the door, and Jerome Bonaparte got out.
The mansion's doors slowly opened, and the butler who had delivered the letter in the morning came out holding a lamp to greet him.
"Your Highness, welcome to the Rothschild Clan!" The butler bent slightly in an arch to welcome Jerome's arrival.