Chapter 2

I became the genius son of Napoleon - Chapter 1 (2/547)

(1) I became a gambling prodigy

Still, Eugene is a gambler.

"Come on, odd? Or even? Choose."

The stage is Paris, the back alleys of Faubourg Saint-Germain.

To the southeast of the Seine, a place lined with monasteries, military schools, and noble mansions.

But it's not just a glamorous place.

In this era, the city is not divided into districts like modern Paris.

Even the streets where the wealthy live have their back alleys.

The streets there are dirty, mixed with bars and vagrants.

In the center, intellectuals drink coffee, but here, they drink cheap wine.

And there is gambling.

"Damn, if I lose this time, I'll lose everything, won't I?"

At the end of the 18th century, men gathered in a Paris bar, staring at the board on the table.

In front of them is a boy with brown hair and sparkling blue eyes.

Odd and even.

It's the most basic form of gambling, something even a child can do.

Beside the middle-aged man who is groaning, his friends burst into laughter.

"Haha, what a sight, losing to a kid? He's not even ten, right?"

"Judging by his gambling skills, he must be fourteen. What are you talking about? He just didn't eat enough to grow. Ha, how much is that?"

"Wow, that must be 100 sols, right?"

On the table, a pile of coins with the king's face gleaming.

Louis XV, the former king.

Though he was the one who ruined the country, money has no class.

The middle-aged man only stared at the back of the card under the boy's hand.

Playing cards.

The official name is French card game.

The card games we know today were originally created in Paris, France.

Right in the 18th century, from the 1780s, they were popular gambling games.

Of course, what the boy and the middle-aged man are facing is not a formal card game.

It's just a very simple pattern of guessing odd or even.

However, the pile of coins in front of the boy shows that the middle-aged man has already lost dozens of times.

The middle-aged man's gaze suddenly turned to another card already laid out.

The number 3, an odd number.

At that moment, the boy smiled and spoke.

"Aren't you going to decide, sir? Then I'll choose first."

The surprised middle-aged man, Thierry, made a decision.

"Let's do it! Even!"

"Will you not regret it?"

"I won't! Open it!"

The boy, Eugene, with sparkling blue eyes, flipped the card.

"Odd."

King, the number 13.

Thierry threw the coins.

Of course, the drunkards in the bar, who were watching, laughed loudly, enjoying others' misfortune.

"Ha! 33 consecutive wins!"

"Hey, you lost everything again, Thierry?"

"Ugh, how! Everything I choose is wrong!"

Eugene chuckled and stood up.

"On the contrary, what I chose was right."

Thierry blinked and asked.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Didn't you notice that I deliberately said something when you were about to choose 'odd'? I was leading you to choose 'even'."

"No, no. Then, you knew it was even? How? I didn't see you cheating."

Surprised, Thierry asked, and Eugene winked and replied.

"It's intuition."

Of course, this is a lie.

Considering that 'intuition' originally means divine inspiration, it might be half true.

Because right now, Eugene can see the same ability as a transcendent's grace from his past life.

It's the bright silver, the 'White Silver Characters'.

Looking at the clear silver characters, Eugene picked up a single coin, 1 sol, from the table.

"Then, I'll take this one?"

"Hey, Eugene. You're quite bold for a kid?"

"Hahaha! If you take it all, we'll take it back, so it's a wise choice!"

Suddenly, Eugene, who was about to leave, stopped.

"Correctly, I'm [Eugene]. Sir."

Eugene (Eugène).

This name, though derived from Greek, is correctly pronounced as Eugene in French.

However, the father who named him did so for a different reason.

Eugène de Beauharnais, a famous French general in Austria.

He participated in the American Revolutionary War, and his father named him Eugene in memory of that.

So at home, he is always called Eugene, in the English, or rather American, pronunciation.

The drunkards in the bar, after looking at each other at Eugene's words, burst into laughter.

"Hmm, is that the British pronunciation?"

"No. It's probably the American way. I've heard a lot about the New World. His father went to the American Revolutionary Army, right?"

"His mother is from the New World, isn't she? Anyway."

That's right.

The son of a noble who participated in the American Revolutionary War.

And the son of a woman from the New World.

'Reincarnated,' Eugene de Beauharnais left the bar.

*Clank!*

Holding a 'coin' as a memento of today's gambling victory.

***

In 1788 AD, Paris was a noisy place.

*Clang!*

A dark back alley, a street full of filth, a place difficult for a boy to walk.

But Eugene walked out onto the street without any trouble.

The noise was overwhelming.

"Stop there! Don't run away with the bread!"

"Who would stand still? You're kidding!"

"I'll kill you if I catch you!"

The thief and the bakery owner's shouts were loud as they ran into the back alley.

The problem is that even Faubourg Saint-Germain, the neighborhood of Saint-Germain, is considered a wealthy street in France.

Nobles have been building mansions across the Seine since the 17th century.

If you lift your head from this back alley, you can see the back of the huge mansions.

Yet, the poor live attached to the back of these mansions.

"It's 1788 AD. What a mess."

Eugene grumbled, trying not to step on the filth.

If he had to be reincarnated, wouldn't it have been better to be born in a more comfortable era, in a more comfortable position?

Or to realize his reincarnation as an adult.

Because he realized it as a child, he had no way to relieve his stress.

Except for gambling, a habit he learned from his past life.

Suddenly, Eugene shivered.

It's spring, yet it's cold.

Just then, he realized that 1788 was a year famous for a sudden cold snap.

"Ugh, it's cold. Huh?"

At that moment, the thief running from the other side collided with Eugene.

*Thud!*

The young Eugene, still a child, couldn't even react properly.

While Eugene fell, clutching his body, the thief, though skinny, was full of energy.

The thief glared and lunged at Eugene.

"Brat, what are you! I'll kill you!"

"Hey, I'm a child. Assaulting a minor is a serious crime!"

"What nonsense, you brat!"

At that moment, the fat bakery owner chasing from behind seemed to be forgotten.

Eugene closed his eyes tightly.

Being a child, he couldn't avoid the situation.

Just then.

*Crack.*

Someone grabbed the thief's wrist forcefully.

It was a handsome, cheerful boy.

He looked about fifteen.

His build was quite robust, clearly well-fed and well-grown, unlike the thief.

The cheerful boy smiled at the thief.

"Hey, boy. Are you going to commit murder now on top of theft? He's not even eight. If you hit him, you might kill him. That would be very troublesome."

"Ugh! Let go! The, the owner!"

"Ah, right. Go on!"

The moment the cheerful boy let go, the thief ran away into the distance, between the alleys.

"Letting the thief go! May Saint-Germain curse you! Damn you!"

The bakery owner, who had run over panting, cursed and passed by.

Judging from the fact that he had run out of the shop, the thief must have stolen from the bakery quite often.

But in the meantime, wouldn't the bakery be robbed by the poor?

Eugene thought about this even as he was rolling around.

After all, it was a time when a single grain of wheat was incredibly precious.

At that moment, the cheerful boy smiled and extended his hand.

"What a mess. Come, boy. Don't despair in the dark streets! God's salvation will always be there!"

Looking at the blonde boy, who sounded like he was from a boxing manga, Eugene snorted.

"Nonsense."

"Hey, I saved you. Say something nice to your mom, okay?"

"You're only fifteen, yet you're already chasing after married women. What a bright future you have?"

Eugene, looking at the teenage boy who had a crush on his mother, asked.

"Ipolite, what are you doing in this alley when you're in the clothing business?"

Louis Ipolite Charles.

A friend Eugene met in Paris after his reincarnation, and a boy who is like a sunflower to Eugene's 'mother'.

Originally the son of a fabric merchant, he came to Paris because his family opened a branch there.

Eugene and Ipolite became friends because Eugene's 'mother' often visited the fabric shop.

It was Josephine de Beauharnais.

Ipolite smiled and helped Eugene up.

"Of course, I came at your mother's request. You haven't even had your birthday yet, right? At seven, you're quite precocious, I must say."

Eugene, born on September 3, 1781.

So, the boy, who is not yet ten, snorted.

No matter what, Eugene is actually ten years older than Ipolite.

"Well, I'm a genius."

A very simple explanation.

In fact, there is a reason this is possible.

This era is the age of geniuses.

***

The 18th century in Europe was a turbulent time, the age of [geniuses].

"By the way, what will happen to this country?"

Even without being Napoleon, it was the period when child prodigies like Mozart, Beethoven, and Goethe first appeared.

In modern terms, it was an era overflowing with extremely high-IQ children.

Beethoven performed at a prodigy concert at the age of seven.

Exactly Eugene's current age.

Because of this era's atmosphere, Ipolite also accepted Eugene's age-inappropriate words and actions.

That's why he suddenly asked about the country while they were on their way home.

Of course, Eugene, hanging on Ipolite's shoulder, snorted.

"What does a fabric merchant care about the country?"

"Is there a law that only nobles can worry about the country? I have patriotism, you know?"

"Patriotism. After what you just did?"

Eugene laughed bitterly and spoke the [truth].

"Well, if you're a gambler, you'd bet on its downfall."

Even without knowing the future of the original history, it's obvious.

The French Revolution, a result known to anyone in the 21st century.

However, there are things you can't know unless you live through the era.

Right now, people are starving to death all over Paris due to a lack of wheat.

Talks of noble tyranny, financial collapse, and the queen's extravagance are secondary.

Originally a fertile land, France is now literally in a famine.

In 1785, there was a drought; in 1787, a flood; and this year, a record cold snap.

It's a miracle it hasn't collapsed yet.

Of course, Ipolite, who brought up the topic, was startled and looked around.

"Hey, your family is a viscount, right? Can you say such things freely?"

"What part of this looks like a viscount's son? And my father isn't the heir. He's just a soldier."

"Well, still. You're a noble, aren't you?"

Surprisingly, the Beauharnais family is actually a [viscount] family.

Of course, Eugene's father is a second son, and the family had already squandered their assets by the time of his grandfather.

That's why, even though Eugene lives in the Saint-Germain district where nobles reside, their actual home is in a back alley.

But to Ipolite, the son of a fabric merchant, it's still a great noble family.

However, Eugene replied sarcastically.

"Noble, sure. But five generations ago, there wasn't much difference, right?"

The 'bourgeoisie' Charles family, who expanded to Paris, is probably wealthier.

The young Ipolite Charles, licking his lips, nodded.

Even without being a genius or a gambler, Ipolite has eyes.

"It's a mess, no doubt. It's cold this year, there was a flood last year, and a drought a few years ago, right?"

"Isn't there a food shortage now?"

"Thanks to that. Haha! When I came to Paris, I was in your debt. Wow, thinking about it, that was when you were four, right? How did you grow up so well?"

There was a time when he had just come to Paris and faced a wheat shortage due to a drought.

At that time, Eugene, who lived next door, helped Ipolite.

That was the first reason they became friends.

Suddenly, Ipolite poked Eugene and put him down.

"Here we are. They say wolves sometimes come, so don't go alone from now on."

"Servant. Can you catch a wolf if it comes?"

"Well, if I have a gun, I can. When I was in Romanchy, I caught deer and all sorts of things in one shot. Hahaha!"

Seeing Ipolite boasting, Eugene snorted again.

"You've never even fired a gun. Don't brag. Gunpowder is precious."

"Ugh, when an adult brags, just pretend not to notice!"

"You might lose your head if you brag too much. If the country falls."

Of course, in the original history, Ipolite actually lived longer than Eugene.

But in the revolutionary France, who knows what could happen in this turbulent period?

Seeing Eugene's serious expression, Ipolite shuddered and shook his head.

"Stop with the ominous talk! Anyway, our royal family has been around for nearly a thousand years!"

A thousand years, to be precise, 891 years.

The French royal family, the Bourbon dynasty, has lasted since the Capetian dynasty.

Currently, no European royal family has a longer history than the Capetians.

This is true even in the modern era of the original history.

Still, Eugene scratched his head lightly and smiled.

"Right, so if you're a gambler, you'd make that judgment."

"Kid, you learned to gamble first, didn't you? The way you talk."

"But if you're a real gambler."

Suddenly, Eugene's gaze turned south.

"I'd bet on a new empire."

Perhaps in the direction of Corsica.

It's still an era ruled by kings.

Eugene's time to place a bet hasn't come yet.