Reincarnated as Napoleon II

Late December 1836.

By the next morning, the French already had everything written down. They checked the damage, went over what happened step by step, and confirmed who was involved through the Japanese officials assigned to the area. Nothing was left unclear.

That made some of his own men uneasy.

But it wasn’t.

"The report’s done," he said.

"Fixed. They hit some exposed parts, but we replaced them. It’s running again."

"They didn’t even understand what they were breaking," he said.

Guizot gave a quiet nod. "That says a lot."

It wasn’t long.

The Dutch translator was brought in, along with a Japanese official who would carry the message back to Edo. Guizot made sure of one thing—it wouldn’t be private. Nothing about this was meant to be hidden.

"Write this," he said.

Guizot spoke clearly.

The translator repeated everything carefully.

"But the incident itself shows a gap in control. Our presence here was agreed upon under specific terms. Those terms include safety and stability."

"We expect those conditions to be upheld," he said.

Guizot paused for a moment, then went on.

The translator hesitated slightly, then delivered it as best he could.

"We need assurance," he said. "That this will not happen again. That our people and operations are protected. And that your government has full control over its own forces."

Guizot gave a small nod. "That’s all."

It didn’t get delayed. It didn’t sit in a pile of documents. It was carried straight to Edo, just like the earlier report.

They knew France would respond.

Inside Edo Castle, the chamber filled again.

The translator spoke carefully, going line by line.

Then Matsudaira broke the silence.

Abe took a moment before replying. "They’re stating their expectations."

Abe met his gaze. "They’re reminding us of the agreement."

Abe didn’t deny it. "Yes."

"Not yet," Matsudaira said.

The room went quiet again.

"They’re not wrong," he said.

Abe lowered his head slightly. "No."

The shogun looked at him. "It means we deal with the problem."

Matsudaira answered quickly. "And still, they question us."

No one argued with that.

Before, they were arguing about whether to let the French stay.

And it wasn’t just their problem anymore.

"They want assurance," he said.

"They want control."

There was a short pause.

That was the decision.

More guards had been posted overnight, but now there were even more. Patrols doubled. Rotations became tighter. Every path leading to the enclosure was watched closely.

It was guarded like it mattered.

"They’ve doubled their watch," one soldier said.

Guizot watched it all from a distance.

"They reacted fast."

"They took it seriously."

Out in the bay, the Rivoli still hadn’t moved.

Crew members checked the artillery—not preparing to fire, just making sure everything was ready. Smaller boats moved along the edges of the harbor, not crossing any lines, but staying visible.

Controlled.

On shore, the Japanese guards noticed too.

"They’re watching closer," another replied.

"Yes. But this is different."

Guizot stayed calm.

Everything was already moving the way it needed to.

His aide joined him.

"Yes."

"Yes."

Guizot let out a quiet breath.

The aide looked at him. "And if they push back?"

"Then we find out how far they’re willing to go."