World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"It's a test firing." Chief of Staff Kuroshima walked to his side, his face grave. "Someone conducted a test firing at an extremely long distance. That distance... at least 25,000 yards."

"25,000 yards?" Kato's first reaction was disbelief. "What kind of cannon can be test-fired from 25,000 yards away? And the impact point can be observed?"

Kuroshima did not answer. His face grew paler and paler, and a terrible guess was forming in his mind.

Just then, the second set of water jets rose.

There were still four jets, but this time, the impact points were significantly closer—about 500 meters around the Kirishima. The water columns exceeded 40 meters in height, much taller than the water columns produced by the 356mm shells from the Kongo-class main guns.

"That caliber..." The old gunnery officer on the Kongo, a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, suddenly exclaimed, "That's not 356mm! At least 380mm! No, possibly even larger!"

The bridge fell silent instantly.

380 mm? A larger caliber? Test firing at a distance of over 25,000 yards?

This time, it wasn't a test launch.

Battleship Kirishima, starboard deck.

Private First Class Jiro Kobayashi was crouching behind the gun shield of the 140mm secondary gun, loading shells into the magazine with trembling hands. He was nineteen years old and had just graduated from the Naval Training School in Nagasaki three months ago. This was his first time participating in actual combat.

The previous battles had terrified him. Even though the giant ship Fuxing was riddled with holes, the earth-shaking tremors that occurred every time its main guns fired in a salvo still made him tremble involuntarily. He had witnessed a 381mm shell directly hit the anti-aircraft gun position on the port side, and four of his comrades-in-arms disappeared instantly, without even having time to scream.

"Hurry up and get ready! What are you daydreaming about!" The gunner's roar pulled him back to reality.

Kobayashi gritted his teeth and continued what he was doing. He told himself the battle was almost over. The Fuxing was finished; once it sank, he could go home alive, back to Nagasaki, back to his mother…

"What is that?"

An old soldier next to him suddenly looked up and pointed to the southeast sky.

Kobayashi followed his finger and looked. In the early morning sky, several tiny black dots were rapidly growing larger. They trailed thin white contrails, like shooting stars falling from the sky.

No, they weren't shooting stars. There wouldn't be so many shooting stars, or so densely packed together.

Moreover, they were falling. Falling at a heart-stopping speed towards the Kirishima.

"Artillery fire..." the veteran's voice trembled, "It's long-range artillery fire! Take cover!"

But it was too late.

The first 380mm high-explosive shell landed about 100 meters to the port side of the Kirishima. The time-delay fuse detonated at a depth of three meters underwater, and the shockwave from the explosion threw thousands of tons of seawater into the air, creating a huge splash with a diameter of over fifty meters.

Then came the second shot, the third shot...

The fourth shot hit directly.

The shell struck the seaplane catapult at the stern of the Kirishima. The 800-kilogram high-explosive shell detonated instantly upon impact. The shockwave swept across the aft deck, tearing apart more than twenty sailors who were preparing torpedoes there.

Jiro Kobayashi was thrown back by the blast wave and slammed heavily against the cannon shield. He felt several ribs break, and his mouth was full of the taste of blood. His ears were ringing, and he could barely hear anything.

He struggled to his feet and was met with a hellish scene.

The aft deck had become a slaughterhouse. Limbs and burning debris were everywhere. Several sailors, engulfed in flames, screamed as they jumped into the sea, but the surface was also covered in oil, and the flames continued to burn on the water.

"Mom..." Kobayashi murmured unconsciously, tears mingling with blood as they streamed down her face, "I want to go home..."

At that moment, the fifth salvo arrived.

This time, the Lanfang team switched to armor-piercing rounds.

At 6:42 a.m., on the bridge of the battleship Pearl River.

"Hit!" the observer's excited voice came through the loudspeaker. "Fourth salvo, two hits on the Kirishima! One hit the aft superstructure, and the other appears to have hit near the engine room!"

Captain Zhou Weiguo nodded, his face expressionless. He turned to the fire control officer: "Adjust the parameters, continue targeting the Kirishima in the next round. Sink it."

"But Captain, according to the plan, we should switch targets and attack other objectives..."

"I said, continue attacking the Kirishima." Zhou Weiguo's voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable authority. "This ship is severely damaged, but it hasn't sunk yet. I want it to disappear completely from the sea."

"yes!"

The order was relayed. The eight 380mm main guns of the Pearl River slowly rotated again, aiming at the burning giant ship more than 20 kilometers away.

In the fire control radar room, operators are working diligently.

"The target speed has dropped to 12 knots, the course is erratic, and it is making irregular maneuvers."

"The heat signal from the upper structure continued to weaken, indicating that the fire was out of control."

"Distance 26,000 yards, wind speed correction..."

Zhou Weiguo walked to the observation window and looked in the direction of the Kirishima with high-powered binoculars. Even at this distance, he could clearly see that the ship was burning. Thick smoke almost completely obscured the hull, with only occasional flashes of light from explosions piercing through the smoke.

"Poor thing," he said softly.

"What?" The vice-captain next to him didn't hear clearly.

"I said it was pitiful." Zhou Weiguo put down his binoculars. "These Japanese sailors didn't even know who was shooting at them, or where the shells were coming from. They were like animals in a cage, waiting to be called out and executed one by one."

The first mate was silent for a moment: "This is war, Captain."

"I know." Zhou Weiguo raised his binoculars again. "That's why I said it was pitiful. Give the order: after the fifth salvo, if the Kirishima is still alive, use the secondary guns to fire. Conserve main gun ammunition; we still have three targets to take care of."

"yes!"

Just then, the communications officer ran over: "Captain, the Yangtze is calling! Inquiring why our ship hasn't turned to attack other targets as planned!"

Zhou Weiguo frowned: "Reply: The Kirishima is still alive and we're finishing it off. Turn to the next target in two minutes."

The communications officer hesitated for a moment: "Commander Zhang might..."

"Execute the order," Zhou Weiguo interrupted him.

The communications officer stood at attention, saluted, and ran back to the communications room. Zhou Weiguo continued to watch the Kirishima, his expression complex.

He wasn't a bloodthirsty man. But at the naval academy, an instructor once said: "In naval warfare, mercy to the enemy is cruelty to your own people. The enemy ship you spare today might sink your comrades tomorrow."

Therefore, it must be thorough. Every single enemy ship must be sunk to the bottom of the sea.