World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Tokyo, Prime Minister's Official Residence, Terauchi Masatake's Study, 11 PM

The study was filled with smoke. Terauchi Masatake sat behind his desk, an open "Naval Status Quo Assessment Report" that Yamamoto Gonnohyōe had just delivered. Opposite him, Yamamoto Gonnohyōe and Okaichinosuke sat on two separate sofas, forming an awkward triangle.

They've been arguing for two hours, but to no avail.

"Peace talks are the only way out." Yamamoto Gonnohyōe repeated, his voice already a little hoarse. "Today Yokosuka was shelled, tomorrow it might be Kure, and the day after tomorrow it might be Sasebo. Every day we delay, our losses increase, and our bargaining chips decrease."

"Peace talks are tantamount to surrender!" Okaichi no Suke stood firm. "The Empire has never surrendered to an Asian country! If we bow down to Lanfang today, Korea and Taiwan will be restless tomorrow! The Empire's prestige will be completely destroyed!"

"Does the Army have any better options?" Yamamoto asked coldly. "Besides empty slogans like 'Decisive Battle on the Homeland' and 'Gyokusai' (honorable death), does the Army have any concrete, feasible plans that can change the status quo?"

Okaichi's face flushed red: "We can mobilize! We can build defenses! We can..."

"What can it do?" Yamamoto interrupted him. "Can it stop Lanfang's warships from shelling our port from over twenty kilometers away? Can it stop their submarines from sinking our merchant ships? Can it conjure up food, oil, and steel? Minister Okaichi, please tell me, what exactly can the army do? What can it do specifically?"

Okaichi opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word. He knew Yamamoto was right. The army could defend against a landing, but it couldn't stop a naval blockade and long-range artillery fire. And without sea transport routes, Japan, this island nation, wouldn't last even three months.

Terauchi Masatake finally spoke, his voice weary: "Minister Yamamoto, if peace talks were to take place now, what conditions would Lanfang propose?"

Yamamoto took a document from his briefcase: "Based on our research on Chen Feng and our analysis of Lanfang's past diplomatic actions, they might propose the following: First, a huge indemnity, possibly exceeding several hundred million yen. Second, recognition of Lanfang's sovereignty over Borneo and their sphere of influence in Southeast Asia. Third, opening the market and granting Lanfang goods most-favored-nation status. Fourth, limiting the size of the Imperial Navy, possibly requiring us to destroy some of our older ships and restricting the tonnage and firepower of newly built vessels."

With each point Yamamoto made, Okaichi's face grew increasingly grim. By the time Yamamoto finished speaking, Okaichi was trembling with rage.

"This...this is practically a condition for national subjugation!" he roared. "Hundreds of millions in reparations? How much is the Empire's annual revenue? Acknowledging their sphere of influence in Southeast Asia? What will happen to the Empire's southward expansion policy? Restricting the navy? How will the Empire protect its maritime transport lines in the future?"

"At least the empire still has a 'future'," Yamamoto said calmly. "If the war continues, there might not even be a 'future' left."

"This is defeatism! Capitulationism!" Okaichinosuke stood up, pointing at Yamamoto's nose. "You are utterly unfit to be Minister of the Navy! You should commit seppuku!"

Yamamoto Gonbei looked up at Okaichinosuke. His eyes were calm, but there was something unsettling about that calmness.

"Minister Okaichi," he said, enunciating each word clearly, "the navy has already committed seppuku. More than four thousand men and four of the most elite warships are already sunk to the bottom of the East China Sea. If you feel that's not enough, I can commit seppuku right now. But before I do, please answer me one question: After I commit seppuku, can the army win this war? Can the Lanfang warships be wiped out? Can the empire's ports no longer be bombarded?"

Okaichi was speechless again. He glared at Yamamoto, his eyes practically spitting fire, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Because the answer is no. No matter how angry he was, no matter how unwilling he was, he could not change the cruel reality: Japan had lost. It had lost control of the sea, lost the war, and lost its right to dominate the Far East in the future.

"Enough." Terauchi Masatake finally stood up, interrupting the endless argument. "Minister Yamamoto, please send a tentative signal to Lanfang through a neutral country: the Empire is willing to cease fire and discuss the possibility of ending the state of hostility. But on the condition that Lanfang immediately cease all military operations."

"Will they agree?" Yamamoto asked.

"I don't know. But we have to try." Terauchi rubbed his temples wearily. "Minister Oka, please cooperate. During the negotiations, the army must exercise restraint and refrain from any actions that could escalate the conflict."

Okaichinosuke wanted to say something, but seeing the weariness and determination in Terauchi's eyes, he simply snorted and turned to leave the study.

After the door closed, only Terauchi and Yamamoto remained in the study.

"Will he really cooperate?" Yamamoto asked.

"No," Terauchi said with a wry smile. "But at least he won't publicly oppose it. What we need now is time. Time for the people to gradually accept reality, time for the international community to intervene and mediate, time for... time for this war to end in a less humiliating way."

Yamamoto Gonbei remained silent for a long time, then bowed deeply: "Your Excellency, Prime Minister, thank you for your hard work."

Terauchi Masatake shook his head: "You'll be the one who suffers. From now on, you'll bear the greatest pressure—from the army, from the parliament, from the people, and even... from within the navy."

"I know." Yamamoto straightened up, his back still upright, but the sharpness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a heavy sense of responsibility. "But this is the duty of the Minister of the Navy. The Navy makes trouble, and the Navy cleans up the mess."

He turned and left. Terauchi Masatake stood alone in his study, gazing at the calligraphy on the wall that read "May your military fortune endure." It was Emperor Meiji's own handwriting, which had once inspired the entire empire to forge ahead.

But now, military fortune is no longer on its way.

Tokyo outside the window was silent. The city's residents were unaware of the dramatic changes their country was undergoing and how their lives were about to be transformed.

Far to the south, on the surface of the East China Sea, four massive steel warships patrolled. Their cannons were pointed at the Japanese archipelago, like four Damocles' swords hanging over the empire's head.

The sword had already fallen once.

It might not stop falling the second time.

Terauchi Masatake walked to the window and looked at the dark night sky. There were no stars, only thick clouds, foreshadowing an even greater storm to come.

"Chen Feng..." he murmured the name, "What...do you want?"

No one answered. Only the night wind, blowing through the pine trees in the courtyard, made a mournful sound.