About a month before the vote of no confidence against Prime Minister Robert Peel took place in Parliament—
London's newspaper offices were practically screaming with joy.
Printing presses ran day and night.
"Ha! Hahahahaha!"
"Sir, yesterday's sales report is finished," an employee said excitedly.
"They've gone up again."
"Really? Excellent, excellent."
"Then let's print even more today."
William Bourne, owner of The Morning Post, grinned as he lovingly stroked the freshly printed stacks of newspapers rolling off the press.
The headline read:
"The New Generation vs. the Old — The Clash Between Charles Wellesley and Robert Peel"
Of course, a single world-shaking event was good for business.
But from a newspaper's perspective, it was even better when smaller controversies continued without pause.
After all—
Newspapers lived on issues.
And lately, the flow of issues had been excellent.
During the war with Qing China, unexpected developments had constantly appeared.
Queen Victoria had also been speaking out repeatedly.
There had been no shortage of material to capture public interest.
Even after the war ended, stories about opium had filled the headlines.
Then came warnings about a looming potato blight and potential famine.
Just when that topic started to quiet down…
Now the Conservative Party's generational conflict had erupted.
For a newspaper publisher, it was a golden age.
Of course, The Morning Post leaned toward the Conservatives politically.
Watching Conservatives fight each other wasn't particularly pleasant.
Still, Bourne believed the issue wouldn't last long.
He had been observing politics for too many years to misread the pattern.
They would quarrel for a while.
Then the younger faction would reluctantly bow their heads.
Everything would quietly return to normal.
That was how these things always ended.
Which meant this was the perfect moment to sell as many sensational headlines as possible.
"Come on, everyone!"
"Work a little harder."
"Public interest in politics has been growing lately."
"If we're lucky, we might even break ten thousand copies within a few years."
"And when that happens, I'll treat everyone!"
No one in the office believed their boss would actually treat them.
Still, they began preparing the day's newspapers for distribution.
Just then—
"Excuse me?"
"I'm looking for Mr. William Bourne, owner of The Morning Post."
"That would be me," Bourne said.
"And who might you be?"
"I've come to discuss a business matter."
"Could we speak privately?"
"Of course. Let's step into the next room."
Running a newspaper meant visitors like this arrived every week.
Most brought useless proposals.
Occasionally, however, there were worthwhile investments.
So it was always worth listening.
"Well then," Bourne said.
"I don't have much time, so—"
"I won't waste it," the man interrupted calmly.
"I'll be direct."
"I'd like to purchase The Morning Post."
"…What?"
"Purchase?"
"Yes."
"If you refuse, I'll go to The Standard or John Bull instead."
"As I said, I don't have much time to negotiate."
"If you sign here, we can go to the bank immediately."
"I'll withdraw the money and pay you on the spot."
Bourne's eyes widened as he examined the contract.
"Twenty thousand pounds?"
"Y-you're serious?"
"Today."
"In full cash."
The market value of The Morning Post was roughly £10,000, perhaps £15,000 at most.
An offer of £20,000 meant Bourne could start another newspaper from scratch and still have £5,000 left over.
Of course, rebuilding would take time.
But this was an opportunity to earn thousands of pounds simply by sitting still.
"You're telling me you can actually pay twenty thousand pounds today?"
"Well… tell me something first."
"Why buy a newspaper?"
"Our employer wishes to operate a large newspaper," the man replied calmly.
"And The Morning Post satisfies all the necessary conditions."
Ah.
So that was it.
Rather than start from nothing, they wanted to swallow an existing paper—experience and all.
Wealthy men occasionally had strange hobbies.
Running a newspaper could certainly be one of them.
"Well then," Bourne said.
"Let's confirm you actually have the twenty thousand pounds first."
"Shall we go to the bank?"
"Certainly."
Bourne wasn't foolish.
If someone offered such a price, they must expect newspapers to grow even more profitable.
Rich men never wasted money.
Still—
The Conservative Party's internal conflict would soon cool down.
Public interest would fade.
Selling at the current peak price and starting fresh elsewhere might even yield £10,000 in profit.
When Bourne saw the money at the bank—
A full twenty thousand pounds—
He signed the contract immediately, grinning from ear to ear.
Thus, The Morning Post, a historic newspaper founded in 1772, soon to celebrate its seventieth anniversary—
Changed owners in a single day.
And the very first thing the new owner prepared was—
An enormous series of special editions.
All designed to make the upcoming vote of no confidence against Robert Peel as dramatic as possible.
"And with this…"
"I declare the motion of no confidence in the cabinet has officially passed!"
The Speaker's voice echoed through the chamber.
The moment the Whigs' motion passed with the support of Wellesley's faction—
The Peel Cabinet ceased to exist.
"As you are aware, Prime Minister," the Speaker continued,
"you must either nominate a successor or request that Her Majesty dissolve Parliament. The deadline is—"
Robert Peel barely heard the rest.
How had things come to this?
Anger.
Shock.
Anxiety.
His thoughts churned violently.
Still, he forced himself to remain composed as he left the chamber with his supporters.
"This is a conspiracy!"
"A conspiracy!"
"That bastard Charles Wellesley has joined hands with the Whigs to destroy our party!"
"But the motion has already passed," another MP said grimly.
"That leaves only one option."
"Dissolution of Parliament."
"If we nominate a successor, they will never accept it."
"Prime Minister… what should we do?"
Even seasoned politicians with decades of experience looked shaken.
But Peel quickly regained his composure.
"Gentlemen," he said firmly.
"Wellesley's actions are outrageous."
"But the important matter now is the coming election."
"I will request the dissolution of Parliament from Her Majesty today or tomorrow."
"You must prepare to win the next election."
"In that case," one senior MP said,
"we must expose Wellesley's betrayal to the public."
"If voters believe he brought chaos into the party, his popularity will collapse."
"Exactly."
"Our supporters value tradition and authority."
"They will not look kindly on a man who challenges his seniors."
"Let us mobilize every newspaper friendly to us."
"Attack Wellesley relentlessly."
The veteran politicians quickly produced a series of countermeasures.
Their strategy was simple.
Portray Charles Wellesley as a traitor to the Conservative Party.
After all—
While Charles was the son of the Duke of Wellington—
Most of Peel's allies belonged to established aristocratic families that had dominated politics for decades.
Their wealth, influence, and networks far exceeded those of Wellesley's faction.
If this became an organization vs. organization battle—
They would surely win.
Charles Wellesley's bold move would go down in history as the greatest political suicide in Britain.
"Very well," Peel said.
"I will go to Kensington Palace immediately to request the dissolution of Parliament."
"You should contact friendly newspapers and influential figures."
"Expose Wellesley's crimes."
When the vote had passed earlier, Peel had felt suffocated.
But after hours of discussion, calm had returned.
In fact—
If this incident allowed them to crush the arrogant young politicians in the party—
Such chaos might never occur again for twenty years.
What was that ridiculous line Killian said?
When the tide rises behind, the water ahead must retreat?
If the tide rises—
You simply build a dam.
Peel stepped out of the meeting room, almost cheerful.
Perhaps this time he would finally see Killian's arrogant face twisted in defeat.
Tomorrow's newspapers would surely be full of the day's events.
He needed to act quickly before the city erupted.
Then—
"EXTRA! EXTRA!"
"Prime Minister Robert Peel Falls!"
"The Bold Young Wellesley Defeats the Prime Minister's Greed!"
Peel froze in his carriage.
He wondered if he had misheard.
The vote had passed only a few hours ago.
How could the news already be printed and circulating?
Had British newspapers always been this fast?
"Stop!"
"Bring me one of those papers!"
The paper people were frantically buying in the streets—
Was none other than The Morning Post.
Peel knew it well.
A newspaper traditionally friendly to the Conservatives.
It had already been publishing stories about the party's internal conflict.
But now—
What on earth had possessed them?
And more importantly—
How had they known enough to print such articles?
Had Wellesley already secured the press beforehand?
The headlines were merciless.
"A Vote of No Confidence That Was Always Inevitable — Why the Prime Minister Was Abandoned by His Own Party"
"The Hidden Face of Robert Peel — The Price of a Leader's Greed for Power"
"Ambition Disguised as Tradition — An Investigation into the Truth"
Peel's hands trembled.
This was unmistakable.
These articles could only have been written by someone with intimate knowledge of internal party affairs.
"Those bastards…"
"They were preparing to bring me down like this?"
"After everything I did for them?!"
Then he remembered.
Killian had left the chamber before the vote.
At the time, Peel had thought it was merely an insult.
Now he understood.
Killian had left early…
To launch the operation he had already prepared.
Still—
It wasn't too late.
Even if The Morning Post tried to stir things up, their resources were limited.
At most, they could print five thousand copies.
If Peel acted immediately, he could frame the reports as lies and propaganda.
He could rally larger newspapers to defend him.
"Turn the carriage around!"
"Forget the Queen for now!"
"We must gather the senior members again!"
"Prime Minister!"
"Prime Minister, it's terrible!"
"What could possibly be worse than this?" Peel snapped.
A secretary came running toward him, breathless.
"Charles Wellesley and Killian Gore have begun something outrageous!"
"They've summoned reporters from every newspaper!"
"They're making an announcement!"
"…What?"
"All the newspapers that lost the scoop to The Morning Post have sent journalists!"
"They say they will publicly reveal the reasons behind the vote of no confidence!"
The pace of events was accelerating beyond control.
And for the first time—
Robert Peel felt the world go dark before his eyes.