World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"This is piracy!"

"They don't dare attack our warships, so they take their anger out on our merchant ships!"

"Cowards! A bunch of cowards!"

Yoshimichi Hasegawa slammed his fist on the table: "Enough! What's the use of yelling? The question now is, what do we do?"

He looked at Okaichinosuke: "Your Excellency, the Prime Minister has decided to negotiate. Do you intend to comply?"

Okaichi remained silent for a long time. He recalled Yamagata Aritomo's words from earlier that day, Terauchi Masatake's weariness, Togo Heihachiro's pessimism, and Yamamoto Gonnohyōe's composure.

But I was reminded of the news of the sinking of the Kasuga Maru, the merchant ships stranded at sea, the workers who lost their jobs because the port was shelled, and the citizens who began to panic because of the disruption of sea transport routes.

"If we negotiate," he began slowly, "everyone knows what conditions Lanfang will propose. Three hundred million in reparations, naval restrictions, opening of ports… These are conditions for national subjugation! If we accept them, the empire is finished! Forever finished!"

"So what do you mean?" a division commander asked eagerly.

"What I mean is..." Okaichinosuke stood up, a resolute glint in his eyes, "Negotiations are possible, but surrender is not. If Lanfang's conditions are too unreasonable, then we will..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone present understood.

"But what if the Prime Minister insists on accepting it?" Yoshimichi Hasegawa asked.

Okaichi stared at him and said, word by word, "Then let's change the prime minister."

These words exploded like a bomb in the conference room. Everyone was stunned; even the most radical hawkish generals hadn't expected Okaichinosuke to say such a thing.

"Your Excellency, what is this...?" The Vice Minister of the Army's voice trembled.

"I said, change the prime minister," Okaichinosuke repeated, his voice even colder. "Terauchi is too weak, Yamamoto is too pessimistic, and Togo is too old. They only see failure, not hope. But the army still has a million elite troops and the support of a hundred million citizens! As long as we don't give up, we have a chance!"

"But..." a relatively rational general said softly, "But we can't defeat Lanfang's navy. Their warships are shelling our ports and sinking our merchant ships from a distance we can't reach. What should we do?"

"Then let them land!" Okaichi roared. "If they dare to land, the army can annihilate them! During the Russo-Japanese War, we used our flesh and blood to hold off the Russian cannons in Port Arthur and Fengtian. It's the same now! Even if it takes ten lives for one, or a hundred lives for one, we'll show them that Japan is not to be trifled with!"

His voice echoed in the conference room, filled with an almost frenzied passion: "Gentlemen, think about it! If we accept humiliating peace talks today, what will our descendants think of us? They will say that our fathers were a bunch of cowards, a bunch of cowards who dared not fight! The glory of the Empire, the spirit of Bushido, will all be lost!"

The generals were infected by him; their eyes turned red and their fists clenched.

"Your Excellency is right! We cannot surrender!"

"Better to shatter like jade than to survive like a broken tile!"

"Let the Lanfang people come! Let them see the might of the Imperial Army!"

Only a few people remained silent, but their voices were drowned out by the frenzied shouts.

Okaichi watched this scene with satisfaction. He knew he now had the support of the military. With the military's support, he could stand against the Prime Minister, against the Navy, and even... against the Emperor.

"Well then," he concluded, "gentlemen, prepare yourselves. Negotiations will proceed, but the army must take a firm stance. If the conditions are unacceptable, then we will..."

He paused, then uttered that terrible word: "military remonstrance."

The meeting room fell silent instantly. Everyone knew what a "military remonstrance" meant—using the power of the military to force the government to change its policies, or even replace its leader. This was not unprecedented in the history of Japan, but each time it was accompanied by bloodshed and turmoil.

"Your Excellency Minister," Hasegawa Yoshimichi stood up and bowed deeply, "the Army awaits your orders."

The other generals also stood up and bowed.

Okaichi nodded, a complex light flashing in his eyes. There was ambition, determination, and a hint of... fear.

He knew he was playing with fire. But if he succeeded, he would be the hero who saved the empire. If he failed… he would be a traitor.

But there's no turning back now.

The meeting ended, and the generals left one by one. In the end, only Okaichinosuke and Hasegawa Yoshimichi remained.

"Hasegawa-kun," Okaichinosuke whispered, "prepare a list. Everyone who might oppose us, everyone who might hinder us, we must...pay attention to them."

"Understood." A cold glint flashed in Hasegawa Yoshimichi's eyes.

The two walked out of the conference room. The corridor was empty, with only the echo of their footsteps. Outside the window, the Tokyo night was deep and dark, with not a single star in sight.

The storm is really coming.

This time, however, the attack didn't come from naval fire, but from internal division.

A country, under the pressure of defeat, is tearing itself in two.

U-19 submarine, 4:00 AM, in the Sea of ​​Japan, west of the Tsushima Strait.

The seawater was as black as ink. The submarine was submerged at a depth of 120 meters, its electric motors running at the lowest speed, the noise almost drowned out by the background sounds of the ocean. In the sonar room, the sonar operator wore headphones, his eyes fixed on the waveforms flickering on the display screen.

"Contact, bearing 075, distance 8 nautical miles, propeller noise characteristics... merchant ship, single shaft, speed approximately 100 revolutions per minute, estimated speed 12 knots."

Captain Li Wenbin lay prone in front of the periscope control panel, his eyes fixed on the green night vision display screen. It was pitch black outside, but through the starlight image, he could see a blurry ship slowly moving on the sea surface.

"Identify," he said softly.

The observer quickly flipped through the manual: "Judging from the outline and size, it's a cargo ship of 5,000 to 7,000 tons, likely a Japanese 'Yamato Maru' class. There are no escort ships."

Li Wenbin nodded. This was already the third ship they had spotted that night. The Tsushima Strait was Japan's main shipping route connecting Korea and China, and even during wartime, merchant ships still risked passing through—some unaware of the dangers, others forced to do so.

"Surf to periscope depth," he ordered.

The submarine began to slowly rise. The depth gauge needle ticked away: 100 meters, 80 meters, 60 meters...

"Periscope depth".

Li Wenbin raised the periscope and pressed his eye against it. It was still dark outside, but with the help of the faint moonlight, he could make out the outline of the ship. It was indeed a cargo ship, with the Japanese name "Hokkai Maru" written on the bow, black smoke billowing from the funnel, and containers piled on the deck.

"Calculate the parameters," he said.

The fire control officer immediately began operations: "Target heading 040, speed 12 knots, distance 6,500 meters. Torpedo depth set at 4 meters, speed 40 knots, estimated launch time 4 minutes and 30 seconds."

"Load launch tubes one and two." Li Wenbin paused, "Wait a minute."

He continued his observation. There were no lights on the cargo ship, but thermal imaging revealed several figures on the bridge. They were likely crew members on watch. No one was visible on deck, but what was in the cargo holds…? Food? Coal? Or military supplies?

"Captain?" the fire control officer asked.

"Record it." He finally spoke, "At 4:12 AM on September 5th, the Japanese cargo ship 'Hokkai Maru,' with a tonnage of approximately 6,000 tons, was spotted in the waters west of the Tsushima Strait, without escort. Upon observation, the nature of the cargo could not be determined. Based on the command's order to 'cut off Japan's maritime transport routes,' our vessel decided to launch an attack."

He leaned back over the periscope: "Launch tubes one and two, load, set depth to four meters, speed to 40 knots, fan-shaped dispersion."

"Loading complete!"

"Fire the launch tubes!"

"Water filling complete!"

"emission!"

The submarine shuddered slightly twice. Two torpedoes burst from their launch tubes, leaving almost invisible trails as they hurtled toward the cargo ship six kilometers away.

Li Wenbin stared at his watch. The second hand ticked away: thirty seconds, one minute, two minutes…

"Sonar report: Torpedo's course is normal, target not evaded."