World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

At six in the morning, the morning mist over Pontianak had not yet dissipated, and the Kapuas River was shrouded in a thin veil. Togo Heihachiro was already standing on the hotel balcony, slowly completing a set of Tai Chi movements facing the river. As he finished, he was slightly out of breath, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead—after all, he was sixty-seven years old.

Inside the room, Terauchi Masatake sat at the table, a draft of the concession proposal he had prepared the previous night spread out before him. The handwriting was messy, with many corrections, and the last paragraph consisted of only half a sentence: "If these conditions are still unacceptable, then..."

The rest of the text wasn't written. Because I couldn't continue.

When Yamamoto Gonnohyōe knocked and entered, his eyes were dark and swollen, clearly indicating he hadn't slept all night. He was holding several documents, the top one being a coded telegram sent from Tokyo in the early hours of the morning.

"Prime Minister, news from home." Yamamoto's voice was hoarse. "The situation in various places... worsened yesterday."

The temple staff received the telegram, their hands trembling slightly. The telegram was written in coded language, which translated to:

"Urgent reports from various places on November 19: Rice shops in Nagasaki were looted, police suppressed the attack, resulting in three deaths and seventeen injuries; dockworkers in Osaka went on strike, demanding food rations; an 'anti-defeat' rally took place in Yokohama, with over two thousand participants; three grain warehouses in Hiroshima were breached, resulting in the loss of 300 koku of rice... The cabinet held an emergency meeting until 3 a.m., concluding that a peace treaty must be reached as soon as possible to restore maritime transport."

The last line was particularly jarring: "Social order is on the verge of collapse."

"On the edge..." Terauchi murmured, repeating the word, and handed the telegram to Togo with a wry smile. "We're still haggling at the negotiating table, but our house is already on fire."

Togo took the telegram and read it slowly. After finishing, he carefully folded the paper and placed it back on the table: "Terauchi-kun, do you remember our strategy during the siege of Port Arthur in the Russo-Japanese War?"

Yamamoto frowned: "Marshal, now is not the time to talk about this..."

"No, it's the perfect time." Togo shook his head. "The Battle of Port Arthur lasted five months, and the Russian army held out very tenaciously. How did we win in the end? Not by launching a direct assault, but by cutting off their food and water. When the defenders were too hungry to even lift their guns, they naturally surrendered."

He looked into the temple: "We are now like the Russian army in the Lushun Fortress. Outside are the besieging forces of Lanfang, and inside we are running out of food and water. The only difference is—we are not defending a fortress, but a country. And the people are innocent."

Temple closed his eyes, pressing his fingers against his temples. His head was throbbing, as if a needle were drilling into it.

"So, what the Marshal means is..."

"What I mean is," Dongxiang stood up and walked to the window, "we may no longer have the right to bargain. Chen Feng is right—every day we delay, the cost is borne by the people. Every extra word we argue here today might mean one more death back home."

Yamamoto suddenly stood up: "Is this the only way?"

Togo turned to look at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions. "Yamamoto-kun, if someone breaks their leg, what's the first thing to do? It's to bandage it to stop the bleeding, set the bone, and then slowly rehabilitate. It's not to drag your broken leg and try to stand up, only to tear the wound open and end up ruining the whole leg."

He walked back to the table and tapped the telegram with his fingers: "Japan is now like the one with the broken leg. Continuing to be stubborn will only lead to blood loss and death. Sign the peace treaty first, stop the bleeding first, survive first. As for whether they can stand up again in the future... that's a matter for the future."

Yamamoto was about to say something when Terauchi raised his hand to stop him.

"Let's prepare to depart." The Prime Minister's voice was weary. "Today... today we must get results, no matter what."

At 9:00 AM sharp, the representatives from both sides sat down again at the long table. The atmosphere was even more somber than yesterday—everyone from Lanfang appeared calm, while those from Japan resembled prisoners about to be executed.

Chen Feng was wearing a light gray suit and a dark blue tie today. After sitting down, he didn't get straight to the point, but instead asked the waiter to serve tea.

"This is local Borneo rainforest tea," he gestured to the waiter to pour a cup for each person. "It's produced in very small quantities and isn't exported. Please have a taste."

Terauchi Masatake mechanically picked up his teacup and took a sip. The tea was fragrant, with a unique sweetness characteristic of tropical plants, but he couldn't taste anything—his mouth was full of bitterness.

"After yesterday's recess," Chen Feng put down his teacup, "we had an internal discussion. Considering the practical difficulties after the Sakura Kingdom war, Lanfang is willing to make some adjustments."

Yamamoto's eyes lit up. Terauchi also looked up.

"Please speak," the Prime Minister said.

Wang Wenwu opened the folder: "First, the reparations payment period can be extended from ten to twelve years. Second, regarding naval restrictions, considering Japan's special status as an island nation, we agree to allow Japan to retain three old battleships for training during a five-year transition period—but their tonnage must not exceed 15,000 tons, and they must not undergo modernization."

"Third," Chen Feng continued, "regarding the transfer of XX, a six-month buffer period can be set. During this period, only symbolic troops will be stationed in Lanfang, and the administrative transfer will proceed gradually to reduce social unrest."

Terauchi Masatake quickly calculated in his mind: the reparations period has been extended by two years, reducing the pressure by about 20 million yen per year; the navy has a five-year transition period; the territorial transfer has a buffer period... This is indeed better than yesterday's conditions.

But he knew this was only a small concession. The core terms—five hundred million in reparations, territorial concessions, and the emasculation of the navy—remained unchanged.

"Thank you for your...goodwill." Terauchi carefully chose his words, "But we still have some concerns. First, the amount of compensation—five hundred million yen is really..."

"The amount of reparations cannot be changed," Chen Feng interrupted directly. "This is compensation for the losses of the war and a guarantee for future peace. We have calculated that although 500 million yen is a lot, if it is paid in twelve years, it will be about 42 million yen per year, and even with interest, it will be less than 50 million yen. With Japan's economic potential, it can afford it completely—provided that you stop wasting money on military equipment."

"But people's livelihood..." The temple still wanted to fight for it.

"People's livelihood issues are your own business." Chen Feng's tone turned cold. "If the Japanese government had used the money meant for building battleships to buy food, there wouldn't be a famine now. If the Japanese navy had used the fuel from its exercises to transport supplies, merchant ships wouldn't be grounded. Your Excellency, the problem isn't that you don't have enough money, it's that you've spent it in the wrong places."

These words pierced the heart of the representative from Japan like a knife. Yamamoto Gonnohyōe's face flushed red, but he gritted his teeth and remained silent.

Suddenly, Togo Heihachiro spoke up: "Commander-in-Chief, I have a question."

"please."

"You just said that Japan should redirect its military spending to civilian life. But how can we feel secure in reducing our military if the threat from neighboring countries remains?" Togo asked calmly. "Ranfang is powerful now and naturally won't threaten Japan. But what about ten years from now? Twenty years from now? The international situation is unpredictable. If Japan has no power to defend itself, won't it be at the mercy of others?"

Chen Feng looked at Dongxiang for a long time. Then he smiled: "Marshal Dongxiang, you've asked the wrong question."

"I would like to hear the details."