World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

The battlecruiser Fuxing was quietly moored in deep-water berth number four, the morning sun shining on its dark gray hull, reflecting a cold luster.

Chen Feng stood on the pier, looking up at the ship. The sea breeze ruffled the hem of his black wool coat. Wang Wenwu stood beside him, holding a list of documents for the visit.

"The complete repair cost 47 million Lanfang dollars," Wang Wenwu reported. "That's equivalent to the cost of building a new Omaha-class cruiser. But Captain Lin Hai insisted on repairing it—he said the Fuxing was the spiritual symbol of the Lanfang Navy and couldn't be decommissioned because of one serious injury."

"He did the right thing," Chen Feng said. "A ship, like a person, gains a soul after experiencing life and death. The current Fuxing bullet train is more valuable than a new ship."

The dock was bustling with activity. Cranes were hoisting supplies into the ship's hold: boxes of documents, diplomatic gifts, spare communication equipment, and even a small printing press—to print documents at any time during negotiations.

A squad of Marines ran aboard the ship, dressed in brand-new white uniforms, their rifle bayonets gleaming in the sunlight. This was a guard of honor specially requested by Chen Feng, not only to display military bearing but also to provide security around the negotiation venue.

"Are all the delegation members here?" Chen Feng asked.

"Everyone's here. Five from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, three from the Ministry of National Defense, four from the Ministry of Finance, two legal advisors, plus you and me, making a total of sixteen." Wang Wenwu flipped through the roster. "In addition, the Navy has sent fifty sailors to handle duties during the voyage, and twenty cooks and service personnel. The total number is eighty-six."

Chen Feng nodded, his gaze shifting to the distance. On the other side of the harbor, two Omaha-class cruisers were weighing anchor—essential escort vessels. Although this route was theoretically safe, the ceremony had to be observed.

"Any news from Japan?" he asked.

"Yes." Wang Wenwu pulled a telegram from his briefcase. "I received it late last night. Their delegation has been confirmed: Prime Minister Terauchi Masatake will be the head of the delegation, Navy Minister Yamamoto Gonnohyōe will be the deputy head, and... Togo Heihachirō has volunteered to join."

Chen Feng raised an eyebrow: "Togo Heihachiro? The Togo from the Battle of Tsushima?"

"Yes. He is 67 years old this year and has been retired for many years, but his influence remains enormous. The title given to him by the Japanese side is 'Imperial Plenipotentiary Envoy'."

"Interesting." A smile appeared on Chen Feng's lips. "They've even brought out a living legend. It seems they're really desperate. Good, letting Dongxiang see Lanfang for himself is more effective than any kind of publicity."

He turned and walked towards the gangway. Captain Lin Hai of the Fuxing was already waiting on the deck, standing ramrod straight despite his left arm still being in a sling. Upon seeing Chen Feng board the ship, he stood at attention and saluted, his movements so precise that he didn't seem like someone who had just returned from the brink of death two months ago.

"Commander-in-Chief, all officers and soldiers of the Fuxing ship welcome you aboard!" Lin Hai's voice was loud and clear, his eyes shining.

Chen Feng returned the greeting, then reached out and patted his shoulder: "Is your injury healed?"

"It's about 80% healed. The doctor said it won't affect command." Lin Hai grinned. "It's just that this arm can't be fully straightened yet, but it's nothing serious."

"Then I'll leave this voyage to you," Chen Feng said. "From Dubai to Borneo, it's three thousand nautical miles; we'll have plenty of time to talk."

"yes!"

Surrounded by the crowd, Chen Feng walked towards the bridge. Passing the main gun turret, he stopped and reached out to touch the cold gun barrel. 380mm caliber, forty-five calibers, a range exceeding thirty thousand yards—this was the standard of the new era.

"Captain Lin," he suddenly asked, "if you were to fight four Kongo-class destroyers again right now, what would the outcome be?"

Lin Hai replied without hesitation: "We will win, and we won't be injured that badly."

"Oh? So confident?"

"Because I know how to fight now." Lin Hai's eyes sharpened. "Last time it was an encounter battle, and we were forced into engagement. If it happens again, I will maintain distance and use the advantage of fire control radar to wear them down from a distance. The armor of the Kongo-class can't withstand our shells. As long as five or six hits, they will be incapacitated."

Chen Feng nodded in satisfaction: "That's the value of experience. Forty-seven million in ship repair costs bought this experience; it was worth it."

He climbed onto the bridge. It was completely different from two months ago—a brand-new fire control radar display, upgraded communication equipment, and even a dedicated intelligence analysis corner. The windows were all newly replaced, offering excellent visibility.

"When can we set off?" Chen Feng asked.

"In an hour, once the escort ships are in position," Lin Hai replied. "The route has been planned: out of the Persian Gulf, through the Indian Ocean, across the Strait of Malacca, and then directly to Pontianak Port in Borneo. The entire journey is expected to take eleven days."

"Eleven days..." Chen Feng repeated, "Just enough time for us to prepare all the negotiation details."

Wang Wenwu continued, "We have prepared three versions of the negotiation plan: the optimal version, the acceptable version, and the bottom-line version. The Japanese side may bargain on the amount of reparations, the payment deadline, and the specific terms regarding naval restrictions. Our principle is..."

"I know the principles," Chen Feng interrupted him. "We won't budge on the core terms, but we can negotiate the peripheral terms. But remember—any concession must be exchanged for even greater concessions from the other side elsewhere. Negotiation isn't a dinner party; it's another form of warfare."

"clear."

Chen Feng walked to the nautical chart table. The shipping routes were already drawn on it, a red line stretching from Dubai to Borneo. And to the northeast of that red line lay the Japanese archipelago; they should be preparing to depart there now, right?

"How will the delegation from Japan get there?" he suddenly asked. "Do they still have ships capable of long-distance voyages?"

Wang Wenwu reviewed the intelligence: "They chartered a Dutch merchant ship, the 'Badavia,' which is 6,000 tons and 15 years old. It departs from Yokohama, passes through the Taiwan Strait and the South China Sea, and is expected to arrive in Borneo two days later than us."

"Merchant ships..." Chen Feng smiled. "We're on 40,000-ton battleships, and they're on 6,000-ton merchant ships. That in itself is a signal—a signal to all the countries watching this negotiation."

He looked out the window. On the dock, the last batch of supplies was being loaded onto the ship. Boxes of documents bearing the words "Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Lanfang Republic" were carefully carried up the gangway. Further away, Dubai's skyline was faintly visible in the morning mist: the towering oil refinery, the newly built skyscrapers, the port cranes... all of this had been built in the last decade.

Ten years ago, Lanfang was merely the name of a government-in-exile. Ten years later, they would have to accept the surrender of an old empire on their own territory.

History sometimes moves so fast it's dizzying.

"Captain Lin," Chen Feng said, "Let's set sail. Let's go and witness... another witness to a new era."

A long blast of the ship's horn. The massive hull of the Fuxing slowly departed the dock, its propellers churning up white spray. Two Omaha-class cruisers escorted it on either side, the three ships forming a neat formation as they headed towards the mouth of the Persian Gulf.

Sunlight shone on the sea, making it sparkle. In the distance, several cargo ships flying the Lanfang flag were entering the port, their bows cutting long white lines across the blue sea.

This is a rising nation, heading towards its historic moment.