World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Scheer stood up, stood at attention, and saluted. "I will do my duty, Marshal."

"I knew you would," Tirpitz returned the greeting. "Go ahead and rest for a while. The afternoon meeting... won't be easy."

Scher turned and left. As he reached the door, he glanced back. Field Marshal Tirpitz sat back down at his desk, put on his reading glasses, and began reviewing documents. The rainlight outside shone on his gray hair; this nearly seventy-year-old man, the founder of the German Navy, looked utterly lonely at that moment.

The door closed gently.

Tirpitz put down his pen and took off his glasses. He took a photograph from his drawer—a photograph taken in 1900 during the German Navy's East Asia Squadron's visit to the Far East. In the photograph, a much younger Tirpitz stood on the bridge of the flagship "Deutschland," with the rising sun behind him.

At that time, he dreamed of building a powerful navy and making Germany a world power.

Now, the dream seemed to have come true. The Bismarck sank the Hood, and the German Navy proved its strength.

But why did he feel no joy, only a heavy unease?

Tirpitz put the photograph back in the drawer and put his glasses back on. There were still many documents to process, many decisions to make. Personal emotions were insignificant before the grand scheme of the nation and the wheels of war.

He picked up the next document. It was the Naval Shipbuilding Bureau's preliminary design proposal for the "Bismarck-class improved version".

The emperor has already requested that the progress be accelerated.

It's still raining.

But a storm is brewing.

Behind the German defense zone on the Somme River,

This was originally a barn in a French village, but it has now been transformed into the base of the 3rd Battalion of the "Sakura Country Volunteer Corps". The barn is very large, with a ceiling height of six meters, and lanterns hang from the log beams, casting swaying shadows.

Koji knelt on the straw mat, carefully wiping the bolt of his rifle. His movements were slow and meticulous; he repeatedly wiped each part with a cloth soaked in gun oil until the metal surface had a dull luster.

This was a habit he developed during his training in Kumagai. His instructor said, "Your weapon is your second life. If you treat it well, it will save you in critical moments." Koji took this to heart and would spend half an hour maintaining his rifle every day after training.

But now, he does these things more to keep himself occupied.

To avoid thinking about yesterday.

The pain from Captain Aoki's boots hitting his ribs still lingered. With each breath, a dull ache shot through his chest. The swelling on his face had subsided, but a clear purplish bruise remained on his cheekbone.

"Hey, Koji!"

Private First Class Yamada from the same squad ran over, waving a leaflet and beaming with excitement. "Did you see this? The German Navy won a great victory in the North Sea!"

Other soldiers from the Sakura Kingdom in the barn also gathered around. The leaflets were passed around among the crowd, eliciting gasps of amazement.

"Really? Five salvos sank the Hood?"

"That was one of Britain's most formidable battlecruisers!"

"German technology is indeed advanced..."

Koji didn't lean in. He continued cleaning his gun, but his ears were perked up, listening intently to every word. The Battle of the North Sea… He recalled how, during a tactics lesson at the Kumagai training camp, the instructor had described the Royal Navy with awe: "A three-hundred-year tradition, the world's number one fleet, an invincible maritime hegemony."

It now seems that nothing is insurmountable.

"If only the Imperial Navy had warships like these," Yamada exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the woodblock print on the leaflet. "Look at the lines, the turret layout... they're far more advanced than our Kongo-class."

"More than advanced," said another soldier named Nakamura, "its performance is definitely much better. Five salvos sank the Hood! Can our navy achieve that kind of efficiency?"

The barn was filled with exclamations of admiration and envy. These Japanese volunteers mostly came from ordinary families, and their knowledge of warships was limited to newspapers and propaganda posters. But the fact that they had "sunk a British capital ship" was enough to make their blood boil.

Koji installed the bolt and pulled it back to check for smooth operation. The metal parts clicked together. But his mind was elsewhere: if the Imperial Navy truly possessed such powerful warships, would the war have ended much faster? Would he have been able to return home sooner?

"Koji, what do you think?" Yamada leaned over and handed him the flyer.

Koji took the leaflet and examined the print closely. Indeed, the Bismarck's lines were sleek and powerful, its turrets rationally laid out, and the entire ship exuded a modern industrial aesthetic. In comparison, the Imperial warships he had seen in Yokohama Harbor, while imposing, always seemed somewhat...clumsy.

"When will the Empire have warships like these..." he muttered to himself, unaware that he had spoken his true thoughts aloud.

The barn suddenly fell silent.

Koji looked up and found everyone staring at him with strange looks. Yamada gave him a wink, signaling him to stop talking. But it was too late.

"What did you say?"

The sound came from the doorway, low and cold, like iron in winter.

Koji turned his head and saw Captain Aoki standing there. This army officer from the Choshu Domain was dressed in a neat uniform, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and the scars on his face looked particularly ferocious under the light. His eyes were like two awls, fixed on Koji at that moment.

"Captain!" Koji quickly put down his gun and tried to stand up at attention, but a sharp pain in his ribs slowed his movements.

Aoki slowly walked into the barn, his boots rustling on the straw. He stopped in front of Koji, looking down at the young soldier sitting on the straw.

"Say what you just said," Aoki's voice was soft, but each word was like an ice bead hitting the ground, "say it again."

Koji felt his throat go dry. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling, "I...I mean, when will the Empire have warships like these..."

"Why?" Aoki interrupted him. "Why does the Empire need warships like these?"

"Because...because of power..." Koji struggled to organize his thoughts, "With powerful warships, we can protect shipping lanes, defeat enemies at sea, and..."

"So what?" Aoki took a step closer, his face almost touching Koji's. "So what if they become even more arrogant? So what if they think they won the war?"

The barn was deathly silent. Everyone kept their heads down, afraid to look. Yamada tried to say something, but Aoki glared at him, silencing him.

"You," Aoki poked Koji's chest with his finger, right where he'd been kicked yesterday, "you're an army soldier. Your weapons are rifles, bayonets, cannons. Your battlefield is here—" he pointed to the ground, "in the muddy trenches, in front of the enemy's barbed wire, on the charge! Not at sea!"