Chapter 142: Dictator
Jörg stepped through the light snow and strode toward Parliament.
The great doors were pushed open by the guards. The Reichstag building still stood intact, not yet reduced to char and ruin by the flames of history.
Inside, sunlight poured through the tall glass windows, falling in pale golden bands across the red carpet that led toward the parliamentary seats. Along both sides, marble pillars supported the vast hall, their bases adorned with intricate wooden carvings so lifelike that they seemed almost ready to breathe.
Jörg continued forward.
Beneath the dome, countless seats spread out in uneven tiers.
This was the plenary hall of the Reichstag.
The members of Parliament, who had been waiting for him for a long time, turned their eyes toward the young Chancellor almost involuntarily.
Jörg did not stop to meet their gazes.
His eyes moved past them and settled on the end of the red carpet.
There, the black, red, and gold flag of the Weimar Republic hung against the wall, its black eagle pressed solemnly into the fabric. Before the flag, the Chancellor's seat stood at the center of the platform.
Jörg walked up the steps, stood before the microphone, and tapped it lightly.
The faint sound spread through the hall.
Then he spoke the first words of his chancellorship before Parliament.
"Gentlemen, it is a pleasure to meet you as Chancellor of Germany."
His voice was calm, neither hurried nor raised, but it carried clearly beneath the dome.
"I know most of you are skeptical of me. You believe a man not yet thirty cannot possibly bear such a heavy responsibility."
A few members shifted in their seats. Some watched him with curiosity, others with hostility, and still others with undisguised calculation.
"But now is not the time for doubt," Jörg continued. "The collapsing economy, the shrinking number of jobs, and the sharp decline in agricultural production all point to one grim reality."
He paused.
"Germany is in grave danger."
The hall grew quieter.
"Yet on the other side of danger lies opportunity. The collapse of the international order and the disintegration of the old free market are not only disasters. They are also the stage upon which Germany may truly rise."
Jörg placed both hands on the edge of the lectern.
"Only unity will allow us to save the economy and seize this rare historical opportunity."
With that, he began reading aloud the list of the new cabinet.
Because the list had already been distributed in advance, the members of Parliament had no objection to most appointments.
Hjalmar Schacht serving as Minister of Economy was widely expected.
The former Crown Prince, Viktor, taking up the obscure newly created post of Minister of Sports, drew a few faint sneers but no real opposition.
Cardolan, who was publicly recognized as a member of Jörg's inner circle, becoming Minister of the Interior was also within the acceptable range.
But Lia becoming Minister of Foreign Affairs was another matter entirely.
A woman, appointed to one of the highest cabinet offices in the state.
Such a thing was almost unheard of.
Prussia had never allowed a woman to stand in such a powerful position of government. Even in the Republic, where women's suffrage had passed, the habits of old Germany did not vanish with the signing of a law.
The Workers Party members were the first to erupt.
Those men, indoctrinated by Hill's belief that women existed only to bear children and serve the household, cursed without restraint.
"A woman as Foreign Minister? What is the difference between that and sending a prostitute to negotiate in a tavern?"
"Since when did Germany need to bargain with its lower body?"
"Mr. Chancellor, is Lia your mistress? Is that why she gets a ministry?"
Several Workers Party members burst into crude laughter.
The Communist members, who advocated equality and workers' rights, had not even had time to react before Jörg lowered the list in his hand.
His deep blue eyes swept across every corner of the plenary hall.
At the same time, the guards at the doors saluted as though they had received an order.
The movement was crisp, uniform, and unmistakably military.
Naked intimidation descended upon the hall.
Jörg smiled coldly.
"Keep speaking, gentlemen of Parliament. Is Parliament not a place for debate?"
No one answered.
The entire hall fell silent.
The reaction of the guards had revealed what everyone already knew but few dared to state aloud.
Jörg's influence within the Army was unshakable.
Or rather, from the moment he reclaimed Silesia and defeated the Poles, he had become the new standard of the Wehrmacht, the man whose name young officers spoke with reverence and whose orders soldiers obeyed without hesitation.
Many members secretly cursed him as a military dictator.
But in this hall, under those watching guards, they only dared to keep those words buried in their throats.
"If no one wishes to speak, then I will say a few words."
Jörg's tone remained calm.
"First, after unanimous discussion between myself and the cabinet, given the rapidly deteriorating global economic situation, Germany can no longer bear the crushing debt imposed by the Treaty of Versailles."
He looked across the hall.
"The government has decided to formally submit a proposal to the League of Nations for the indefinite postponement of reparations."
This point caused little resistance.
The Polish military conflict had already rendered the reparations issue effectively hollow. Officially raising the matter now was merely turning reality into procedure.
Besides, not having to repay debt was a benefit no party could openly oppose.
"Second," Jörg continued, "considering the unique and complex nature of the economic crisis, I formally submit the Special Authorization Act to Parliament."
The hall exploded.
More than half the members rose from their seats at once.
"Impossible!"
"The economic situation has not reached the point of requiring a Special Authorization Act!"
"Jörg von Roman, how many days have you even been Chancellor? Are you already so eager to abolish Parliament and rule by decree?"
"Do not think that because President Hindenburg favors you, you may act recklessly!"
"Germany is not your personal estate!"
Jörg faced the storm of accusations with a faint smile.
He did not become angry.
Instead, he calmly introduced a series of economic proposals.
"Third, if the following measures receive unanimous consent from Parliament, I will withdraw the Special Authorization Act."
The shouting gradually weakened.
Jörg continued, "First, Parliament must approve policies of economic restraint and supervision. The German state must conduct comprehensive and meticulous oversight of the financial and banking sectors."
Several bankers' representatives immediately stiffened.
"Second, Parliament must approve the Tax Supervision Act. I believe that a significant portion of the current economic disorder is rooted in tax evasion."
His tone hardened.
"Investigations into past taxes must be strengthened. Any enterprise or individual holding assets exceeding five million US dollars must voluntarily accept tax inspection. If violations are discovered, the Weimar Republic shall have the right to seal the relevant assets."
The moment these words were spoken, the eyes of the German Communist Party lit up.
But outside the Communists, the Progress Party, and Hindenburg's old guard, almost every faction became restless.
Who among them was truly clean?
Who among the men seated beneath this dome had never received a donation, concealed an account, shifted assets through a relative, or used influence to protect a company?
Jörg was not proposing reform.
He was cutting into their flesh.
Two members representing the merchant class stood up at once.
"Jörg, you claim to have clean hands, but who here does not know that Cardolan Investment Company was your creation?"
"In just a few years, Cardolan has become the largest monopoly group in Germany!"
"I do not believe you have no problems!"
Another voice quickly followed.
"Are you not afraid of capital flight? Are you not afraid the stock market will collapse even further?"
Jörg chuckled.
"I have never denied that Cardolan Investment was founded by me. On the contrary, gentlemen, I am very glad I established it."
He looked calmly at the men who had shouted.
"As for capital flight, let it flee."
The hall quieted.
Jörg said lightly, "Cardolan Investment Company will acquire every asset that attempts to leave Germany."
As soon as he finished speaking, Cardolan stood up from the observer's gallery.
The older man's posture was dignified, his voice steady, and his support for his young master was absolute.
"To be frank, gentlemen, so long as the Chancellor requires it, Cardolan Investment Company can acquire any enterprise unwilling to accept scrutiny at a price above current market value."
He had the confidence to say this.
At Jörg's warning, Cardolan had already sold all his stock holdings at the peak of the American market before the economic crisis erupted. The dollars he had gathered were now scattered across more than a dozen banks.
Even he himself did not know the exact total sleeping inside those accounts.
But he knew one thing.
It was enough to buy the fear of half the men in this hall.
.....
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