Chapter 199: Every Enemy Ship Must Be Sunk to the Bottom of the Sea

"It's a test firing." Chief of Staff Hei dao walked to his side, his expression grave. "Someone is conducting test firing from an extreme distance. That distance... at least twenty-five thousand yards or more."

"Twenty-five thousand yards?" Kato's first reaction was that it was impossible. "What gun can test fire from twenty-five thousand yards away? And still observe the impact point?"

Hei dao did not answer. His face grew ever paler; a terrifying conjecture was taking shape in his mind.

Just then, the second group of water columns rose.

Still four columns, but this time, the impact points were clearly closer—about five hundred meters around the Mist Island. The water columns exceeded forty meters in height, far taller than those produced by the Kongō-class Main Gun's 356mm Shells.

"That caliber..." The old gunner aboard the Vajra, a veteran who had fought in the Russo-Japanese War, suddenly cried out involuntarily, "That's not 356 millimeters! At least 380! No, possibly even larger!"

The bridge fell instantly silent.

380 millimeters? An even larger caliber? Test firing at a Distance exceeding twenty-five thousand yards?

This time, it was not test firing.

Battleship Mist Island, starboard deck.

Private Second Class Kobayashi Jiro was crouching behind the gun shield of a 140mm secondary gun, loading Shells into the magazine with trembling hands. He was nineteen years old, having graduated from the naval training school in Nagasaki only three months ago. This was his first time in actual combat.

The earlier battle had already terrified him. That giant vessel, the Revival, even riddled with holes, still made him tremble involuntarily every time its Main Guns fired in salvo with earth-shaking force. He had watched with his own eyes as an anti-aircraft gun position on the port side took a direct hit from a 381mm Shell; four comrades from his same graduating class vanished in an instant, without even having time to scream.

"Load faster! What are you staring at!" The gunner's roar pulled him back to reality.

Kobayashi gritted his teeth and continued his motions. He told himself the battle was almost over. The Revival was already done for; once it sank, he could go home alive, return to Nagasaki, return to his mother's side...

"What's that?"

A veteran beside him suddenly looked up, pointing at the sky to the southeast.

Kobayashi looked in the direction of his finger. In the dawn sky, several tiny black dots were rapidly growing larger. They trailed faint white streaks, like meteors falling from the heavens.

No, not meteors. Meteors would not be this numerous, this dense.

Moreover, they were descending. At a heart-stopping speed, descending toward the Mist Island.

"Shelling..." The veteran's voice trembled. "It's ultra-long-range shelling! Take cover!"

But it was already too late.

The first 380mm high-explosive Shell landed about a hundred meters off the Mist Island's port side. The delayed fuse detonated three meters underwater, and the shockwave from the blast hurled thousands of tons of seawater into the air, forming a massive splash over fifty meters across.

Immediately after came the second Shell, the third...

The fourth Shell scored a direct hit.

This Shell struck the Mist Island's rear seaplane catapult. The 800-kilogram high-explosive Shell detonated the instant it made contact. The shockwave swept across the rear deck, instantly tearing apart more than twenty sailors who were preparing torpedoes there.

Kobayashi Jiro was thrown by the blast, slamming hard against the gun shield. He felt several ribs crack, his mouth full of the taste of blood. His ears rang with a buzzing sound, and he could barely hear anything.

He struggled to his feet and saw a hellish scene.

The rear deck had become a slaughterhouse. Severed limbs and body parts lay everywhere, burning debris everywhere. Several sailors, their bodies ablaze, screamed as they leapt into the sea, but the ocean surface was also covered in oil slick, and the flames continued to burn on the water.

"Mama..." Kobayashi murmured unconsciously, tears mingling with blood as they streamed down. "I want to go home..."

And at that moment, the fifth salvo arrived.

This time, the Lanfang had switched to armor-piercing Shells.

Six forty-two AM, bridge of the battleship Pearl River.

"Hit!" The spotter's excited voice came through the voice tube. "Fourth salvo, two hits on the Mist Island! One struck the rear superstructure, one suspected hit near the engine room!"

Captain Zhou Weiguo nodded, not much expression on his face. He turned to the fire control officer: "Correct the parameters, next salvo keep targeting the Mist Island. Sink it."

"But Captain, according to plan, we should be turning to attack other targets now..."

"I said, keep firing on the Mist Island." Zhou Weiguo's voice was calm, but carried an unquestionable authority. "This ship is already heavily damaged, but it hasn't sunk yet. I want it to disappear completely from the sea surface."

"Yes, sir!"

The order was relayed. The Pearl River's eight 380mm Main Guns slowly rotated again, training on the burning giant vessel over twenty kilometers away.

In the fire control radar room, operators were working tensely.

"Target speed down to twelve knots, heading erratic, conducting evasive maneuvers."

"Superstructure heat signature continuously fading, assessed as fire out of control."

"Distance twenty-six thousand yards, wind correction..."

Zhou Weiguo walked to the observation window and looked toward the Mist Island with high-powered binoculars. Even at this Distance, he could clearly see that the ship was burning. Thick smoke almost entirely obscured the hull; only the occasional flash of explosions pierced the smokescreen.

"Pitiful," he said softly.

"What?" The executive officer beside him did not catch it.

"I said pitiful." Zhou Weiguo lowered his binoculars. "These Japanese sailors—they don't even know who's hitting them, don't know where the Shells are coming from. They're like animals locked in a cage, waiting to be called off one by one for execution."

The executive officer was silent for a moment: "This is war, Captain."

"I know." Zhou Weiguo raised his binoculars again. "That's why I said pitiful. Pass the order: after the fifth salvo, if the Mist Island still hasn't sunk, use the secondary guns to finish it off. Conserve Main Gun ammunition; we still have three more targets to deal with."

"Yes, sir!"

Just then, the communications officer ran over: "Captain, message from the Yangtze! Asking why our ship has not turned to attack other targets as planned!"

Zhou Weiguo frowned: "Reply: Mist Island has not yet sunk, finishing it off. Will turn to next target in two minutes."

The communications officer hesitated: "Commander Zhang might..."

"Carry out the order." Zhou Weiguo cut him off.

The communications officer stood at attention, saluted, and ran back to the communications room. Zhou Weiguo continued watching the Mist Island, his eyes complex.

He was not a bloodthirsty man. But at the naval academy, an instructor had said something: in naval warfare, mercy toward the enemy is cruelty toward your own people. The enemy ship you spare today may sink your comrade tomorrow.

Therefore, it must be absolute. Every enemy ship must be ensured to sink to the bottom of the sea.