Chapter 121: Brazil's Battleship

October 8, 1910, 3 p. m., Dock No. 7.

The Brazilian Navy's two Dreadnought‑class battleships—the São Paulo and the Minas Gerais—were moored side by side at the outfitting pier. They were the final batch delivered under Lanfang's "Three‑Year Assault" plan, and also the last two of the six South American inventory ships.

Wang Wenwu stood on the viewing platform, watching the bustling scene below. Workers were dismantling the final construction scaffolding on the hull, sailors were conducting the last inspections on deck, and a crane was hoisting the final batch of supplies into the hold.

"Minister Wang, these two ships are twenty‑two days ahead of schedule," said the head of the Brazilian Navy acceptance team, Brigadier General Edurdo Santos. The fifty‑year‑old Brazilian veteran had deliberately shaved his beard today; his deep‑blue uniform was impeccably pressed, yet his eyes could not hide his urgency.

"What about quality?" Wang Wenwu asked.

"Flawless," Brigadier General Santos handed over the acceptance report. "The São Paulo achieved a maximum sea‑trial speed of 23.8 knots, exceeding the contract requirement of 23 knots. In the simultaneous Main Gun test, eight 305 mm guns dispersed over a radius of 87 meters at a Distance of fifteen kilometers, 13 % better than the contract‑required 100 meters. In the watertight test, all compartments held pressure for 48 hours without leakage— the contract only required 24 hours."

Wang Wenwu flipped through the two‑hundred‑page acceptance report. Each item bore the dual signatures of Brazilian and Lanfang engineers, and some entries were accompanied by photographs and test‑curve charts.

"Your satisfaction, General, is all that matters," he closed the report. "According to procedure, we can now begin the handover ceremony."

"Wait," Brigadier General Santos raised his hand to stop him. "Minister Wang, before the formal handover I have a question—a personal one."

"Please go ahead."

"These six battleships," Brigadier General Santos said, pointing at the two massive ships on the pier and then gesturing toward the distance where four sister ships already delivered to Argentina were moored, "are you really just 'pre‑built inventory'?"

Wang Wenwu smiled. He had anticipated the question.

"General, why do you say that?"

"Because it's too perfect," Brigadier General Santos said. "I have inspected battleships built by the United Kingdom, by France, and even by the United States. Never have I seen one like this— from the first steel plate to delivery, the entire process had zero major accidents, zero design changes, zero performance shortfalls. It doesn't resemble a hastily conceived inventory ship; it feels like… a product meticulously planned for years."

Wang Wenwu looked into the veteran's eyes. Brigadier General Santos had taken part in the Brazilian Navy modernization program and overseen the construction of three capital ships, so his doubt was understandable.

"General," Wang Wenwu said slowly, "You are right; these six ships were not a spur‑of‑the‑moment project. Three years ago, when we began building the Restoration Ship, the President said, 'We are not building just a battleship, but an entire system.'"

He pointed to the dockyard area:

"This system includes standardized design procedures, modular construction techniques, strict quality control, and a trained workforce. When we built two ships for Chile, we were already preparing for subsequent South American orders. So when Argentina and Brazil raised their requirements, we indeed had 'inventory'— not finished ships, but a ready‑made production line, ready‑made processes, and ready‑made talent."

Brigadier General Santos was silent for a few seconds, then smiled—a smile of admiration.

"So you planned it from the start? Not just building a few ships for profit, but establishing… a sustainable shipbuilding industry?"

"A sustainable defense industry," Wang Wenwu corrected. "General, Lanfang is a small nation—its population is only one‑tenth of Brazil's, its territory only one‑thousandth. Our sole advantage is the ability to concentrate resources on great undertakings. Shipbuilding is one of those great undertakings we have chosen."

"What about the Super Dreadnought class?" Brigadier General Santos pressed, "Brazil signed a letter of intent for four ships, but is the design truly finished?"

Wang Wenwu pulled a document from his briefcase. It was only three pages, listing the preliminary specifications of the South Ocean‑class battleship— the internal code, marketed abroad as the Super Dreadnought class.

"Main Guns: eight 356 mm/45 caliber guns, arranged in four twin turrets. Armour: Armour Belt 350 mm, inclined at 18 degrees. Propulsion: fuel‑oil boilers, four steam turbines, designed speed 25 knots. Displacement: standard 28,000 tons, full load 32,000 tons."

Brigadier General Santos skimmed quickly: "Cost?"

"The preliminary estimate is £5.8 million per ship. That's the 1910 price; if construction starts in 1913, it could rise to £6 million."

"How much stronger in performance than the Orion class?"

"Firepower and protection are 20 % higher, speed 6 % higher, endurance 15 % higher. Most crucial is—" Wang Wenwu pointed to the propulsion line, "the fuel‑oil boiler. That means faster acceleration, cleaner exhaust, fewer crew. At the same speed, fuel consumption is only half that of a coal‑fired boiler."

Brigadier General Santos inhaled deeply. If these figures are accurate, this class would surpass the United Kingdom's currently designed Queen Elizabeth class, becoming the world's strongest— at least on paper.

"Can you really build it?"

"The first ship will be delivered by the end of 1913," Wang Wenwu said. "That presumes Brazil signs the formal contract in the first half of 1911 and pays a 30 % advance. We need that money to finalize the design and expand the dockyard."

"The pressure is huge," Brigadier General Santos closed the file. "Minister Wang, Brazil is a great power but also a poor one. Four Super Dreadnoughts at over £23 million total—that equals the Brazilian Navy's ten‑year budget."

"So Brazil needs allies," Wang Wenwu said bluntly. "Argentina bought four Dreadnoughts, Chile has two, and Peru and Colombia are also in talks with us. The South Pacific arms race has already begun; if Brazil does not keep pace, it will fall behind."

"Keeping up would mean poverty."

"Then it depends on what Brazil values more," Wang Wenwu said. "Is it temporary fiscal difficulty, or long‑term regional dominance?"

The conversation paused there. In the distance, a whistle blew as the São Paulo tested its steam turbines, the smokestack emitting white vapor.

"Minister Wang," Brigadier General Santos concluded, "I will report truthfully to Rio de Janeiro. But personally I advise… Brazil should sign this contract. In the next thirty years, fewer than five nations worldwide will be able to produce ships of this class, and the only ones likely to sell to Brazil are you."

"Thank you for your trust, General," Wang Wenwu extended his hand. "Then, may we begin the handover ceremony now?"

"We can."

The handover ceremony took place on the pier, simple and unadorned. No foreign envoys, no media reporters—only the two delegations and representatives of the shipyard workers. Wang Wenwu and Brigadier General Santos signed the transfer documents, exchanged texts, and then shook hands.