World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"No buts." Zhang Zhen turned to Chen Qiming. "Old Chen, I know what you're thinking. You think we're like human traffickers, sending these people to their deaths in Europe. But you have to understand, it was their own choice. The Japanese government needs foreign exchange, Germany needs troops, and these soldiers need jobs. We're just middlemen, providing transportation services and earning reasonable compensation."

He paused, his tone softening slightly: "Moreover, from a strategic perspective, with these 100,000 Japanese citizens going to Europe, Japan will have 100,000 fewer mouths to feed and 100,000 fewer destabilizing factors. This is a good thing for us."

Chen Qiming smiled bitterly: "I understand the reasoning. It's just that when I see those soldiers... many of them are still very young, they probably don't even know where Europe is, yet they're going to their deaths."

"That's how war is," Zhang Zhen said. "It's either them dying, or our people dying. Which do you choose?"

Chen Qiming fell silent. Of course, he would choose for the Japanese to die. But seeing 100,000 living people walk towards death still stirred a pang of compassion in him.

"Order all ships," Zhang Zhen returned to his command post, "maintain a speed of twelve knots and proceed along the predetermined route. Closely monitor the surrounding waters, especially the movements of the British fleet. Although we have an agreement, the British might try something underhanded."

"Yes."

The order was relayed. The massive Yangtze began to turn, leading the fleet southwest. Sunlight shone on the sea, reflecting a dazzling golden light.

Looking at the fleet, Zhang Zhen felt a mix of emotions. This was the strangest mission of his military career—not a battle, not an exercise, but escorting a mercenary army to a battlefield thousands of miles away.

But he knew that the political significance of this mission was no less than that of a naval battle. If successful, Lanfang would consolidate its hegemony in Asia, reap huge profits, and weaken potential rivals.

If I fail... no, I cannot fail.

He walked to the communications station and personally sent a telegram:

"To the Presidential Palace in Dubai: The fleet has set sail smoothly. It is expected to arrive in the Persian Gulf on February 25th. Zhang Zhen."

Radio waves traveled across the sea and sky, flying towards Dubai, thousands of miles away.

There, someone is playing a much bigger game.

Dubai, Presidential Palace, Strategy Room. Chen Feng stood before a huge world map, holding several chess pieces in his hand—red representing Lanfang, blue representing Germany, black representing Japan, and white representing Great Britain.

He moved a black chess piece from Japan to Europe and placed it on the Eastern Front.

"The first batch consists of four divisions, 100,000 men," Wang Wenwu reported from the side. "The contract is for two years, with a total amount of 53 million marks, equivalent to 24 million yen. We will take a 10% cut, which is 5.3 million marks. Transportation costs are separate, estimated at 2 million marks. Regarding equipment procurement, Japan has ordered military supplies worth 5 million yen from Lanfang."

Chen Feng nodded in satisfaction: "Not bad. This is only the first batch. If the fighting goes well, Germany might want a second and a third batch. Japan, having tasted success, will also be willing to continue sending troops."

Zhou Tieshan continued, "Intelligence indicates that the reaction within Japan to this troop deployment is complex. There are dissenting voices within the army, but they have been suppressed by Kenichi Oshima. As for the navy... Togo Heihachiro burned all relevant documents yesterday and told his adjutant, 'Tell Saionji—the Empire is now walking a tightrope.'"

Chen Feng laughed: "Dongxiang is a sensible man. He knows this is like drinking poison to quench thirst, but he has no choice but to drink it."

He walked to the window and looked out at the bustling streets of Dubai. In ten years, this place had transformed from a small fishing village into a modern city with towering buildings, a busy port, and a thriving oil industry.

"Do you know," Chen Feng suddenly said, "ten years ago, when I announced the establishment of our nation here, many people laughed at us, saying we were a government in exile, that we were daydreaming. And now? We control Borneo, defeated Japan, and are going to act as intermediaries in the European war."

He turned around, his eyes flashing with a sharp light: "Why? Because we've grasped the pulse of the times. Europe is fighting a world war, and the great powers are too busy to look eastward; that's our opportunity. Japan became arrogant after the Russo-Japanese War, thinking itself invincible, only to run into us. That's also an opportunity."

"So that's why you proposed this mercenary recruitment plan?" Wang Wenwu asked.

"That's right." Chen Feng walked back to the map. "This plan has five objectives: first, to earn foreign exchange; second, to weaken Japan; third, to curry favor with Germany; fourth, to test Britain; and fifth... most importantly, to establish Lanfang's dominant position in Asian affairs."

He tapped the Sakura archipelago with his fingers: "The Sakura Kingdom is like a wounded wolf, hungry and in pain. We give it a piece of poisoned meat, and even though it knows it's poisonous, it will still eat it. After eating it, it will either die from the poison or become a useless person dependent on drugs. Either way, it will be beneficial to us."

Zhou Tieshan hesitated for a moment: "President, aren't you worried about future retaliation from the Sakura Kingdom?"

"I'm worried," Chen Feng admitted frankly. "But retaliation requires strength. The Japanese navy has been crippled by us, their army has been sent to Europe to be worn down, and their economy has been dragged down by reparations. It will be at least ten years before they recover. And in ten years, what will Lanfang be like? How many people will be left in Japan?"

He pointed to the Lanfang territories on the map—Borneo, Malaya, and the Java and Philippines where he was infiltrating: "Ten years from now, we will have a more complete industrial system, a powerful navy, and solid allies. At that time, even if Japan wants to retaliate, it will be powerless."

Wang Wenwu was taking notes when he suddenly remembered something: "Oh, right, the German ambassador, Müller, visited this morning and said that His Majesty Wilhelm II hopes you can visit Berlin to discuss future cooperation in person."

"Tell Muller I'd be happy to, but we need to arrange the timing," Chen Feng said. "Let's do it around spring or summer this year, when the situation on the European front becomes clearer."

He looked at the map again, his gaze falling on Europe. There, Germany, Britain, France, and Russia were locked in a bloodbath. Meanwhile, Lanfang, a newly emerging nation far away in Asia, was managing to profit from their conflict.

This is the essence of geopolitics—using other people's conflicts to strengthen oneself.

"Send a telegram to Zhang Zhen," Chen Feng concluded. "Tell him that the safety of the fleet is of paramount importance. If necessary, display our national flag to inform any forces that might attempt to intercept us—this is Lanfang's fleet, protected by the Lanfang Navy."

"clear."

The order was given. Chen Feng remained alone in the strategy room, staring at the black chess piece that had been moved to Europe.

One hundred thousand soldiers from the Japanese army. How many of them will return alive? Half? A third? Or even fewer?

He neither knew nor cared. In the grand scheme of the nation, soldiers were merely pieces, quantifiable numbers, and exchangeable resources.

Is it cold-blooded? Yes. But that's politics, that's governance. Kindness and compassion can't save a country; they'll only kill more people.