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Chapter 418: The Public Opinion War in Austria

Second floor of Schönbrunn Palace.

Baron Thugut, the Austrian Minister of State, escorted Archbishop Talleyrand out of the hall, his face wreathed in smiles:

"That about covers it, Archbishop Talleyrand. The official communiqué will be sent to Paris next week.

"My thanks to France for its outstanding contribution in defeating the Netherlandish Rebels. Oh, His Imperial Majesty also specifically instructed that a farewell banquet for the brave French warriors be held in Brussels. After that, General Leo will handle matters."

Archbishop Talleyrand nodded impassively.

"Please convey my gratitude for His Majesty's arrangements. Long live the Franco-Austrian alliance!"

"Long live the Franco-Austrian alliance!"

Once Archbishop Talleyrand stepped out of the main gate of Schönbrunn Palace, his expression immediately darkened. He pulled out a notebook, flipped through it, and looking at a line of text, instructed his valet:

"To 31 Uzberg Street."

That was the residence of Baron Ferrari. Although he was a staunch anti-Prussian, his influence wasn't particularly significant. However, in the past few days, Archbishop Talleyrand had already met with all the major figures of the anti-Prussian faction. For now, all he could do was try to unite as many anti-Prussian ministers as possible.

Meanwhile, in a VIP room at Vienna's most luxurious brothel, "The Red Boots," Viscount Malte, a high-ranking officer of the Vienna Secret Police, who had just enjoyed an ecstatic service, raised a glass of gin—a drink rumored to have invigorating effects due to its added ingredients—and, squinting drunkenly, gestured to the corpulent man opposite him:

"You truly outdid yourself today, Mr. Kugel. Rest assured about that matter."

Mr. Kugel had ordered the most premium package, costing 80 Florins a day. Even Viscount Malte usually wouldn't dare to spend that much.

"I'm so grateful, my dearest friend." Kugel raised his glass. "To Miss Elina."

She was the "entertainer" who had just served Malte.

The two men drained their glasses. Malte was clearly quite drunk, but suddenly his eyes sharpened, and he straightened up forcefully, slapping his forehead.

'I almost forgot, I haven't signed off on the review authorization yet...'

News censorship in Austria was handled by the Secret Police, and he was the highest-ranking official in charge of it.

He tugged at his disheveled clothes, staggered to the door, and called out from the VIP room:

"Erich, bring me my briefcase."

Soon, Malte handed the signed standard authorization form to his attendant and instructed:

"Hurry back to the office immediately and give this to Harper."

"Yes, sir."

Erich exited "The Red Boots" and waved for the carriage parked across the street—he wouldn't dare use the Viscount's personal carriage without permission.

"Graben Street."

"Right away, sir," the coachman responded, cracking his whip to urge the horses forward.

However, after traveling less than one kilometer in the direction of Graben Street, the carriage suddenly turned into a secluded, narrow alley.

Erich suddenly felt the carriage stop. Just as he was about to ask the coachman, the carriage door was abruptly pulled open. Two masked thugs dragged him out, their voices low and menacing:

"Robbery!"

"Let me go! I'm with the Secret Pol... Oof—"

Erich was cut off mid-sentence as he was knocked unconscious by a single blow from a club.

One of the masked men opened his leather bag, took out the authorization document, and handed it to the shorter man standing nearby:

"Mr. Baudoin, this should be it."

The latter immediately leaned over the wooden table in the carriage and began meticulously forging the signature on the authorization form. Ten minutes later, he handed a slip of paper with "Malte's signature" to the thug:

"That's done."

The thug glanced at the slip, carefully put it away, and then tore the original authorization form into tiny pieces.

Inside a three-story building on the south side of Graben Street, a large crowd of newspaper staff huddled together, anxiously shouting at the uniformed person behind the desk:

"Sir, when will Viscount Malte return?"

"It's already past 4 PM! If the review isn't done soon, it'll be too late for printing!"

"Please, be a good man and tell us where Viscount Malte is. We'll go fetch him ourselves..."

Indeed, this was Austria's news censorship agency, and Malte, the official in charge of reviews, was currently at "The Red Boots," discussing life with an entertainer.

"Everyone, quiet down!" a square-faced Secret Police official shouted impatiently, waving his hand.

He was Harper, Malte's assistant, a deputy official responsible for news censorship. However, without Malte's authorization document, he couldn't proceed with the review.

However, the authorization document had already been torn up and discarded by agents of the French Intelligence Bureau.

Just then, an unassuming middle-aged man wearing a felt hat squeezed through the crowd, winking repeatedly at the square-faced official.

Harper understood. He led the man into his office on the second floor.

Closing the door, the man in the felt hat pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Harper:

"Sir, this is specially approved by Viscount Malte. I trouble you with this."

Harper took the slip of paper and read it. It stated: "I have reviewed the content submitted by The Life and Truth Daily today. Please approve it for publication." Below was Viscount Malte's signature, but without his personal seal.

He frowned, looking at the man in the felt hat.

"Where is the Viscount?"

The latter offered a mysterious smile. "He's with a certain lady. Do you need the specific address?"

"Ahem, no need," Harper waved his hand, but still said cautiously, "Let me see your manuscript."

"Certainly, sir." The man in the felt hat hastily handed him a stack of manuscripts.

Harper opened a page. The headline at the top boldly declared: "Great Victory at Liegnitz, Prussian Brigands Rout!"

He wasn't surprised. Rumors had been circulating for the past two days that Marshal Lacy had won a great victory in Silesia, and Liegnitz was indeed a southwestern province of Silesia.

The man in the felt hat immediately added,

"Our war correspondent just sent this news back at noon. The official announcement should be issued tomorrow. Our newspaper needs this to join the ranks of first-class papers."

"You journalists are even faster than the Marshal's dispatch riders." Harper chuckled, looking down. The news report stated that the Austrian army had annihilated 4,000 Prussian soldiers at Liegnitz, captured 1,000, seized a large number of cannons, and the front line had advanced to the northeast of Liegnitz. According to the current military situation, Liegnitz could be recaptured within this month.

"That truly is big news!" he exclaimed, quite excited himself. "Finally, those damned Prussians have been taught a good lesson!"

The man in the felt hat immediately pulled out 10 Florins and slipped them into Harper's pocket:

"Sir, please be quick about it."

Before long, he emerged from the Secret Police building, followed by about a dozen people from other newspapers.

"Are you really willing to sell us the news?" one of them asked anxiously.

"Of course."

That day, no newspaper's stories had received approval, except for the manuscript from The Life and Truth Daily.

The people from The Life and Truth Daily had just informed them that for only 30 Florins per newspaper, they could sell them the news report.

Although this would undoubtedly lead to a large number of identical news stories, it was still better than having to compensate clients for halting publication and suffering damage to their newspaper's reputation.

That afternoon, nearly half the newspapers in Vienna were printing the news of the "Great Victory at Liegnitz, Prussian Brigands Rout!"

The next morning, all of Vienna was abuzz with excitement!