Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 149: Departure to China

Three days later, in the Arsenal de Brest, the harbor was active long before noon.

The commissioning ceremonies had ended, but Brest had not quieted. If anything, the naval yard had become even busier. Warships that had just entered service were now taking on provisions, ammunition, spare parts, and trained personnel. Dock cranes swung back and forth above the piers. Steam drifted from funnels in short bursts. Officers walked the quays with clipboards and manifests in hand while shipyard workers hauled crates toward waiting gangways.

Napoleon II arrived in a automobile and stepped out near the main embarkation basin.

This section of the harbor had been cleared for the departing East Asia mission.

Charles-Louis was already waiting for him, accompanied by several naval officers and civilian administrators from the Ministry of Commerce. A few steps behind them stood Remy Beauvilliers, now dressed in a cleaner dark coat, his appearance more formal than when he had first arrived in Versailles. The fatigue of long travel had not fully left his face, but he stood with the posture of a man who understood that he had been given an important role.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Charles-Louis said, bowing lightly.

Napoleon II nodded once.

"Status?"

Charles-Louis turned slightly and gestured toward the harbor.

"The fleet is nearly ready. Final loading operations are underway. The warships will depart on schedule."

Napoleon II followed his gaze.

The harbor before him was divided clearly.

At anchor beyond the inner basin rested the warships—gray steel hulls, angular superstructures, and forward-facing gun turrets that marked the beginning of France’s modern naval doctrine. The battleship Napoleon I dominated the formation, her bulk unmistakable even among the other new vessels. Beside and behind her were the battlecruisers, the heavy cruisers, the destroyers, and, closer to the protected submarine pens, the lean hulls of the new undersea boats.

But what drew Napoleon II’s immediate attention were the merchant ships.

They were moored along the long commercial quay, larger and broader than the older merchant steamers still common in European harbors. Their hulls were simpler in form than the warships, without armor belts or heavy gun housings, but they carried their own kind of importance. Functional. Sturdy. Meant to cross entire oceans while carrying the material weight of French industry.

The first of them bore the name Victoire de Marseille painted in white lettering across the bow.

A second vessel farther down the quay read Victoire de Bordeaux.

And beyond that, another—Victoire d’Anvers.

Napoleon II stepped forward slightly.

"So these are the Victory-class merchant vessels," he said.

"Yes, sire," Charles-Louis answered. "The first completed units."

Napoleon II studied the nearest one carefully.

The ship sat deep in the water even before final loading was complete. Her hull was broad-bellied and practical, with a high stern and reinforced cargo hatches spaced along the deck. Steam rose in a thin line from the funnel amidships. Winches and cranes mounted along the quay were lowering cargo into the holds through the open hatch covers.

Remy Beauvilliers stepped forward.

"They are larger than the merchant vessels I saw in Canton twenty years ago," he said.

"They should be," Napoleon II replied. "They are meant to sustain transoceanic trade, not coastal hopping."

Charles-Louis opened the folder he carried.

"Victory-class merchant vessel," he said, reading from the specifications. "Full-load displacement approximately fifteen thousand tons. One hundred thirty-eight meters in length. Beam of nineteen meters. Draft of eight meters. Single steam turbine, six to eight thousand five hundred shaft horsepower, single-screw propulsion. Cargo capacity around ten thousand tons deadweight."

Napoleon II nodded as he listened.

"Range?" 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"Transoceanic capability, sire."

"And crew?"

"Forty to sixty."

Napoleon II gave a small approving nod.

"That will do."

He began walking toward the quay, the others following. Guards remained at a respectful distance while laborers and sailors stepped aside to clear the path. Many removed their caps as he passed.

The loading operation became clearer as he approached the first merchant ship.

Crates were stacked in measured rows on the dock, each marked with stenciled lettering indicating contents and destination. Some were reinforced wooden boxes banded in steel. Others were long narrow crates clearly intended for precision machinery. A separate section held sealed containers filled with electrical components protected from salt air and moisture.

Napoleon II stopped beside one of the larger stacks.

"What is this lot?"

A commerce official stepped forward immediately.

"Generators, Your Imperial Majesty."

Napoleon II glanced at the manifest board hanging nearby.

"Portable?"

"Yes, sire. Small and medium industrial generators designed for demonstration and export."

Another official added, "The Chinese court may not understand all the applications immediately, but once demonstrated, they will see the value. Mechanical workshops, lighting systems, telegraph stations, harbor operations."

Napoleon II nodded.

"And the rest?"

The official pointed further down the quay.

"Appliances, sample machine tools, telegraph equipment, electrical wiring, compact refrigeration units, agricultural engines, pumps, precision clocks, scientific instruments, and demonstration models of industrial turbines."

Napoleon II’s eyes moved across the dock.

There was method in the arrangement.

This was not merely trade cargo.

It was a curated display of industrial civilization packed into the holds of steamships.

Every crate was part of an argument.

Trade with France, and this can be yours.

Refuse, and you remain where you are.

Remy Beauvilliers looked over the cargo with clear interest.

"You intend to bring all this to Canton?"

"Not all for sale," Napoleon II said. "Some for demonstration. Some for gifting. Some for contract negotiation."

Beauvilliers nodded slowly.

"That will attract attention."

"It had better."

They continued walking.

At the next section of the quay, workers were loading model display cases—miniature steam locomotives, cross-sectional turbine models, mechanical assemblies that could be opened and explained before Qing officials if the need arose. Nearby stood carefully packed domestic electrical appliances—lamps, heating units, compact washing mechanisms, even a refrigerator unit protected by padded braces and reinforced crating.

Beauvilliers looked toward the refrigeration equipment.

"That one will confuse them," he said.

Napoleon II gave him a faint smile.

"Good. Curiosity is useful."

Charles-Louis then cleared his throat lightly.

"Your Imperial Majesty, there is someone else you should meet."

Napoleon II turned.

A man in formal diplomatic dress stood a short distance away, speaking with a naval captain. He was in his late thirties, clean-shaven, with a measured expression and the bearing of someone long accustomed to court protocol. His coat was dark blue, trimmed modestly rather than extravagantly, with the insignia of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs pinned at the breast.

Charles-Louis gestured toward him.

"Armand de Villeneuve," he said. "Former envoy to Vienna. He will lead the diplomatic mission."

The man stepped forward and bowed deeply.

"Your Imperial Majesty."

Napoleon II studied him carefully for a moment.

He had the look of a man who understood hierarchy, but not to the point of paralysis. Calm eyes. Controlled posture. Not easily rattled. That mattered.

"You are the one Charles-Louis selected for China?"

"Yes, sire."

Napoleon II began walking again, and Villeneuve fell into step beside him while Beauvilliers walked on the other side. Charles-Louis remained just behind them.

"You understand the significance of this mission?" Napoleon II asked without looking at Villeneuve.

"Yes, sire."

"Tell me, then."

Villeneuve answered without hesitation.

"France seeks direct relations with the Qing Empire before Britain forces the matter through conflict. We are to present ourselves not as raiders or smugglers, but as a modern industrial power offering trade, technology, and structured relations. If successful, this mission establishes a French position in China and opens the path toward broader influence in East Asia."

Napoleon II gave a slight nod.

"Good."

They stopped near the edge of the quay where the Victoire de Marseille was taking on its final loads.

The ship’s side towered above them, ropes creaking lightly as the tide shifted.

Napoleon II turned fully toward Villeneuve now.

"You will be sailing with the first Pacific Fleet. That alone will draw attention."

"Yes, sire."

"You will carry gifts, demonstration equipment, and enough industrial value to make even a suspicious court reconsider its assumptions."

"Yes, sire."

Napoleon II took one slow step closer.

"And you will be entering a court that considers foreign rulers barbarians."

Villeneuve held his gaze.

"I am aware."

Napoleon II’s voice remained calm, but the edge in it sharpened slightly.

"You are not going there to be humiliated by ceremony."

"No, sire."

"You are not going there to beg for access."

"No, sire."

"You are going there as the representative of an empire that has rebuilt itself into the most advanced power on the continent."

Villeneuve’s posture straightened almost imperceptibly.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty."

Napoleon II looked at him for another second before continuing.

"If the Qing officials delay, you remain patient. If they test you, you remain composed. If they insult you, you do not forget it. If they show curiosity, you exploit it. If they refuse to understand what France offers..."

His eyes drifted briefly toward the gray hulls of the warships waiting beyond the basin.

"...they will at least understand what arrives with us."

Villeneuve followed that glance toward the battleship Napoleon I and the rest of the fleet.

"I understand."

Napoleon II did not look away from him.

"Do not fail."

There was no rise in his voice. No theatrical emphasis. That made the words heavier, not lighter.

Villeneuve lowered his head.

"I will not, sire."

Napoleon II held his gaze a moment longer before nodding once.

"See that you don’t."

Beauvilliers remained silent during the exchange, but he had heard enough to understand the balance of the mission. Diplomacy backed by steel. Commerce backed by fleet presence. It was not the British way, but neither was it naïve.

Charles-Louis finally spoke.

"The documents are prepared. Once the fleet completes final provisioning, departure orders can be issued."

Napoleon II turned back toward the harbor.

On the outer water, the warships of the new Pacific Fleet rested with quiet menace, their steel hulls reflecting the pale afternoon light. Closer in, the Victory-class merchant ships loaded the material proof of French industrial power—generators, telegraphs, appliances, machine tools, lighting systems, precision instruments.

War and trade.

Pressure and invitation.

Both were necessary.

Napoleon II clasped his hands behind his back as he looked over the assembled ships.

"In a few weeks," he said quietly, "those vessels will leave Brest and cross half the world."

No one interrupted him.

He continued watching the workers secure the final cargo nets over the hatches.

"When they arrive in Asia, France will not be asking whether it has a place there."

He turned slightly toward Villeneuve and Beauvilliers.

"It will be taking one."