World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Coming back alive... easier said than done."

He held the telegram to the candle and lit it, watching the flame devour the words: "Prepare the car, I'm going to Tokyo."

"Now? It's already 2 a.m.

"Now," Muto said, putting on his military overcoat, "this matter cannot wait."

Naval Transport Department's calculations

As Muto rushed to Tokyo overnight, the lights were still on in an office at the Yokohama naval base. Shimada had changed out of his military uniform and was wearing simple civilian clothes, sitting with several naval officers around a nautical chart.

"The route provided by the Germans starts from Yokohama, passes through the Taiwan Strait and the Strait of Malacca, enters the Indian Ocean, rounds the Cape of Good Hope, and finally arrives in Marseille, France." A young naval staff officer pointed to the red line on the nautical chart. "The whole journey is about 20,000 nautical miles, and at an average merchant ship speed of 10 knots, it would take 80 to 90 days."

"Too slow." Shimada shook his head. "Three months at sea would break the soldiers' morale. Besides, this route is too risky—British cruisers operate in the Indian Ocean. Although Britain is not a belligerent country now, there's no guarantee they won't intercept us under the pretext of 'checking for contraband.'"

Another officer—Colonel Matsumoto, the Minister of Transport—added, “The General is right. Moreover, we are severely lacking in transport ships. Even if we requisition all available merchant ships, we can only transport a maximum of two divisions, about 50,000 men, at a time. The rest will have to wait for the first wave of ships to return, which means the entire transport cycle will be extended to more than six months.”

"What did the Germans say?" Shimada asked.

Matsumoto opened a document: "The German Consul General in Lanfang, Müller, promised to provide twenty cargo ships, but required us to pay a rental fee of five thousand marks per ship per month. Moreover... most of these ships are quite old, and their speed may only be eight knots."

A murmur rippled through the meeting room. Shimada tapped the table. "Quiet. Matsumoto, where's our own ship?"

"We have twelve ships that can be deployed immediately, all of which are cargo ships of more than 3,000 tons. Another eight are under repair and will be ready for use in at least a month. The biggest problem is escorting ships—after the East China Sea, we only have four destroyers and two cruisers left to go to sea, and they are all short of fuel and ammunition."

Shimada closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. The situation was worse than he had imagined.

"General," the third person who had been silent spoke up. He was Lieutenant Commander Kuroshima from the Naval Intelligence Department, known for his shrewd calculations, "Perhaps... we can try a different approach."

"explain."

"Why must the entire journey be by sea?" Kuroshima walked to the nautical chart. "The most dangerous sections of the route from Yokohama to Marseille are the Indian Ocean and the Cape of Good Hope. But what if we took a different route?"

He drew a new line on the nautical chart in red pen: "Starting from Yokohama, it enters the Sea of ​​Japan via the Tsushima Strait, and then stops at Wonsan Port in Korea. From there, it travels overland, via the Manchurian Railway to the Trans-Siberian Railway, crosses Russia, and finally enters Germany from Poland."

The room erupted in uproar.

"Traveling through Russia? This is wartime!"

"The Trans-Siberian Railway's capacity is simply insufficient!"

"Moreover, the political risks are too great; the Russians won't agree..."

After the murmurs subsided, Heishan and the others slowly spoke: "Gentlemen, let me finish. First, although Russia is currently at war with Germany, it has no direct conflict with us. Second, the Trans-Siberian Railway does have limited capacity, but it is feasible if only troops are transported, not heavy equipment. Third, Russia is currently facing financial difficulties, and if Germany is willing to pay transit fees, they are likely to agree."

He paused, then looked at Shimada: "Most importantly, this route only takes 30 to 40 days, more than twice as fast as sea transport. And there are almost no risks at sea. The soldiers will be in better condition."

Shimada stared at the red line, his mind racing with calculations. Indeed, the plan sounded very tempting, but…

"What should we do with the equipment provided by Germany? It's impossible to transport artillery and vehicles by land."

"The equipment will be shipped by sea." Black Island was well-prepared. "The soldiers will advance lightly by land, while the equipment will be shipped around the Cape of Good Hope. The two will meet in France. This way, even if the equipment is intercepted or delayed by sea, at least the personnel will arrive safely."

Matsumoto questioned, "But if they're transported separately, what if the soldiers arrive in Europe without equipment? Wouldn't that be just as useless?"

"Germany promised to provide initial equipment," Kuroshima said. "And think about it—even if the worst happens and all the equipment is lost, but 100,000 soldiers arrive safely, that's still a valuable force for Germany. They won't send these people into battle empty-handed."

A deep thought fell over the room. Everyone was weighing the pros and cons of the plan.

"I look forward to your good news." Chen Feng also stood up.

The two shook hands. Muller's hand was strong and dry, while Chen Feng's was warm and steady. Their hands clasped together, and with it, they grasped a deal that could potentially change the course of the war.

The rain had lessened a bit when they left the hotel. Chen Feng got into the waiting car and said to Wang Wenwu in the passenger seat, "Back to the consulate. Also, inform Tokyo that you can give Prime Minister Saionji a heads-up, saying that Germany is very satisfied with the scale of 120,000 people, and there is still room for price increases."

"Do you think Germany will agree to the submarine technology request?" Wang Wenwu asked.

"Yes." Chen Feng looked out at the rainy night. "Because they had no choice. Germany had to win this war, or at least not lose. And to win, they were willing to pay any price—including some technologies they once treasured."

The car drove along the wet streets, passing the dock area of ​​Keelung Port. In the dim light, several Japanese merchant ships could be seen moored in their berths, their hulls rusted and dilapidated. This was the scene of a defeated nation: the once proud shipping industry was now reduced to these old ships.

"What about Japan?" Chen Feng asked. "How did Muto react?"

"It's very intense," Wang Wenwu reported. "But according to Komura's intelligence, Saionji has personally summoned high-ranking army officials. Although Army Minister Kenichi Oshima is also unwilling, he is more aware of the domestic crisis. If there is no foreign exchange injection within three days, the government may not even be able to pay civil servants' salaries."

Chen Feng nodded: "Hunger is more persuasive than dignity. Tell our people in Tokyo that if necessary, they can 'help' create some public opinion—for example, by revealing that Britain is considering further sanctions against Japan, or that American banks are refusing to lend money."

"clear."

It was late at night when Chen Feng returned to the Lanfang Consulate in Keelung. But instead of resting, he went straight to his study. The table was piled high with telegrams and documents, the top one being the latest report from naval intelligence.

"Assessment of the remaining Japanese Navy ships: 2 battleships (both requiring major overhaul), 5 cruisers (3 operational), 12 destroyers (7 operational), 3 submarines (all old)... Total tonnage less than one-third of pre-war levels, fuel reserves only enough for two months of training."

The report concludes with a handwritten note: "It is recommended to expedite the implementation of the 'Labor Transportation' plan. The Japanese Navy's current transportation capacity is severely insufficient, which allows us to further control its maritime lifeline."

Chen Feng picked up his pen and wrote in the margin: "Agreed. Establish the 'East Asia Shipping Joint Company,' with Lan Fang holding 51% of the shares and Japan Shipping Company holding 49%. All labor transportation must go through this company."

After finishing writing, he walked to the window. The rain had stopped, the clouds had dispersed, revealing a few sparse stars. In the distance, on the sea, a patrol ship of the Lanfang Navy was cruising, the lights on the bridge flashing rhythmically in the darkness.

Once implemented, this plan will completely transform the Asian landscape. Japan will be reduced from an ambitious empire to a second-rate nation that relies on exporting labor for survival. Meanwhile, Lanfang will leverage this crisis to transform itself from a regional power into a dominant force in Asia.

But Chen Feng felt little joy. He recalled a sentence from his grandfather's manuscript: "The way to a strong nation lies not in conquest, but in establishing trust. Subduing people by force will lead to their disintegration when force is exhausted; subduing people by virtue will ensure their stability when virtue prevails."

Is Lanfang now winning people over with virtue or with force?

He couldn't answer. In this dog-eat-dog world, sometimes you have to use force to earn the right to speak before you can talk about morality.