World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Turret B is the only main gun turret still operational on the Kongo. The forward turret A had its elevation mechanism damaged by the Fuxing, and the rear turret C was completely silenced by the recent shelling. Now, only these two 356mm main guns represent the Kongo's last remaining counterattack capability.

The problem is, they can't see the target.

"Observation tower! Give us the target's location!" Yamada roared into the communicator.

There was only static in the communicator. The main observation tower had been destroyed in the last shelling, and the backup observation tower's signal was also lost.

"Damn it..." Yamada slammed his fist on the inner wall of the turret. "The observation port! Who's going to check the observation port?!"

Morishita climbed to the peephole and peered out through the thick bulletproof glass. The sight outside made him gasp.

The stern section of the Kongo was burning. Thick smoke obscured most of his vision, but he could see that the aft mast had collapsed and was pressing down on the aft deck. Further away, the Hiei drifted slowly on the sea like a dying whale, its hull listing at more than twenty degrees, and sailors were running for their lives on the deck.

As for the Haruna... the Haruna is almost invisible now, with only a huge oil slick on the sea surface and floating debris.

"Morishita! What did you see?" Yamada roared.

"I...I saw..." Morishita's voice trembled, "I saw the Hiei was about to sink...the Haruna might have already sunk...the Kirishima...the Kirishima is gone..."

The turret was deathly silent. All fourteen men—six gun crew members plus the ammunition handler—had stopped what they were doing.

"Gone...what does that mean?" a gunner asked in a low voice.

"It sank! It fucking sank to the bottom of the sea!" Yamada kicked the gun mount, then grimaced in pain, clutching his foot. But he quickly straightened up, his eyes burning with a frenzied rage: "So we have to get revenge! We have to bring those unseen bastards to light! Keep rotating the turret! In the direction the shells came from!"

"But gunner, we don't know the exact location..."

"Then let's head southeast! You should at least have a general direction, right?"

The gun crew exchanged glances, then silently returned to their posts. Morishita continued turning the traverse mechanism handwheel, while another loader began cleaning the breech. Yamada climbed to the fire control console—although most of the instruments were malfunctioning, the most basic iron sights were still usable.

He squinted one eye, peering through the scope at the southeastern horizon. There was nothing there, only the azure sea and sky.

"Distance... 20,000... no, 25,000..." Yamada muttered to himself, adjusting the dial. "Elevation... 30 degrees... Load armor-piercing rounds!"

"Loading complete!"

"preparation--"

Yamada's hand rested on the fire button. He knew that at this distance, the probability of hitting the target with the iron sights was virtually zero. But he had to do something. He couldn't just sit and wait to die.

"put!"

The two 356mm main guns roared. The turrets shook violently, and smoke billowed. Yamada peered through the peephole and saw the contrails left by the shells stretching to the horizon.

Thirty seconds later, nothing happened. No water jet hit, no explosion, nothing at all. The shell sank like a stone into the sea, disappearing on the distant horizon.

"Again!" Yamada roared. "Reload! Keep firing! Until we run out of ammunition!"

"Guard officer..." Morishita suddenly said, "Listen."

Yamada paused, listening intently. Beyond the vibrations of the turret and the mechanical noise, he heard a new sound—like countless bees buzzing in the distance, growing closer and louder.

That was the sound of shells tearing through the air. Dozens of 380mm shells were flying in from 25,000 yards away, heading straight for the Kongo.

"Impact stance!" That was all Yamada managed to shout.

Then, hell descended.

The engine room of the Kongo is five meters underwater.

Chief Engineer Masao Onodera lay sprawled on the twisted and deformed steam pipes, using his last strength to tighten a leaking valve. His right leg was impaled by a broken steel pipe and pinned to the deck, but he had no time to deal with it.

"What's the pressure of boiler number three?" he asked hoarsely.

"The pressure is dropping... water is taking in the furnace..." the stoker's voice trembled with tears. "Chief Engineer, we can't hold on any longer..."

"We have to hold on, even if it's unbearable!" Onodera roared. "If the engines stop, this ship will truly become a floating coffin!"

He looked up and surveyed the engine room that had once filled him with pride. The Kongo had four steam turbines with a total power of 136,000 horsepower, enough to propel this 30,000-ton behemoth to 30 knots. But now, the number one turbine was completely destroyed, the number two was barely functioning, and the output of the number three and four turbines was less than half of their normal capacity.

Worse still, the ship is leaking in multiple places. Damage control teams have reported that at least five compartments are completely flooded, and the breaches are too large to be sealed. The Kongo is taking in water at a rate of 200 tons per minute and is listing at an angle of more than eight degrees.

"Chief Engineer..." A young technical officer crawled over, his face covered in soot, "Orders from above require us to maintain a speed of at least 15 knots and attempt to disengage from the battlefield..."

Onodera gave a wry smile: "15 sections? We can barely manage 10 sections now. Tell the higher-ups, either accept this pace, or we all sink together."

The technician hesitated for a moment: "But... the commander said..."

"I don't care what the commander-in-chief says!" Onodera interrupted him. "I'm the chief engineer, I only know the limits of the machine. This ship has reached its limit. Every nautical mile we go now is draining the last bit of its life force."

He struggled to move his body, trying to check the dial. But just then, the entire ship began to shake violently.

It wasn't the kind of vibration you get from main gun firing—that kind of vibration is rhythmic and controlled. This vibration was chaotic and violent, as if a giant hand had grabbed the Kongo from the seabed and was shaking it wildly.

"Another shot..." an old stoker muttered, his eyes filled with despair.

Onodera gripped the railing tightly, feeling each explosion beneath his feet. He could tell: the first hit his rear, the second his midsection, the third…

"boom--!!!"

The explosion was extremely close, so close that Onodera felt his eardrums were about to burst. All the lights in the engine room went out instantly, and a few seconds later the emergency lights came on with a dim yellow glow.

"Where were you shot?" he roared.

"Judging from the sound... it sounds like it's near Turret D..." the technician's voice trembled. "Below Turret D is... boiler room number four..."

Onodera's heart sank. Boiler compartment number four housed eighty stokers and mechanics, as well as four high-pressure boilers. If that area were hit directly…

The intercom suddenly rang. A muffled, intermittent voice came through: "Number four...Number four compartment...completely destroyed...boiler explosion...everyone...ah—!!!"

A short, agonizing scream came through the intercom, followed by static.