Chapter 213: Imperial Conference

"This plan can be scrapped now." His voice was very light, but every word drove like a nail into the hearts of everyone present. "For the foreseeable future, the Empire will not allocate large-scale shipbuilding funds to the Navy. Our capital ships are virtually lost. Rebuilding will take at least ten years and... hundreds of millions of yen in investment."

"So we just let it go like that?" Operations Director Suzuki growled unwillingly. "We can mobilize all remaining vessels to organize homeland defense! If the Lanfang people dare to come, we'll..."

"They're already on their way." Intelligence Director Yamamoto Hideki suddenly spoke up, holding a telegram that had just arrived. "The Nagasaki observation post reports that around ten o'clock this morning, four giant warships were spotted in the waters west of the Gotō Islands, sailing northwest. Hull type assessment... matches the intelligence on Lanfang's Bismarck-class battleships."

The office fell into dead silence once again.

Four Bismarck-class ships. That legendary monster that had just sunk four Kongō-class ships was now sailing toward the Japanese mainland.

"What... what do they want?" the General Affairs Director's voice trembled.

"They might be pursuing fleeing enemies, or..." Yashiro Rokurō paused, voicing the most terrifying conjecture, "directly attacking the homeland."

"They're insane! They've lost their minds!" Suzuki Kantarō jumped up. "Four battleships dare to attack the Empire's homeland? Do they think our coastal defense guns are just for show?"

"Their main guns have a longer range than our coastal defense guns." Shimada Shigetarō said dejectedly. "The Vajra was sunk outside the range of coastal defense guns. If they follow the same pattern and bombard from the open sea off Yokosuka and Kure..."

He didn't finish, but everyone understood the picture: four giant ships cruising at Japan's doorstep, using those massive cannons with a range exceeding twenty-five thousand yards to destroy ports, dry docks, and warehouses, one shell at a time. And Japan's coastal defense guns could only watch helplessly, because they couldn't even reach them.

"Minister!" A young secretary burst in frantically, forgetting even to knock. "A call from the Prime Minister's Office—you are to proceed to the Prime Minister's official residence immediately! The Army Minister, Foreign Minister, and Finance Minister have all arrived. An emergency Imperial Conference... will convene in one hour!"

What had to come had finally come.

Yashiro Rokurō slowly stood up and straightened the collar of his military uniform. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were not about to attend a fate-deciding meeting but an ordinary social event.

"Shimada-kun," he said to the Chief of the Naval General Staff, "please prepare a document for me. It should list in detail the ships and personnel lost in this battle, and... my letter of resignation."

"Minister!" Everyone stood up.

Yashiro Rokurō raised a hand to stop the words they wanted to say. "Someone must take responsibility for defeat. I am the Navy Minister; the Combined Fleet's sortie was approved by me. I will bear this responsibility."

He walked to the coat rack, took down the military greatcoat embroidered with the insignia of a full admiral, and carefully draped it over himself. In the mirror, he was fifty-six years old, his hair already streaked with gray, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes as deep as knife cuts.

"Gentlemen," he turned around, taking one last look at these subordinates who had followed him for many years, "I am going to the meeting. You... do what needs to be done. Remember, no matter what happens, the spirit of the Imperial Navy must not collapse."

He pushed open the door and walked out.

The corridor was empty, only the echo of his own footsteps resounding. Sunlight streamed in through the window at the end of the hall, casting patches of light on the floor. Outside the window, Tokyo's streets were still bustling; streetcars clanged, and the cries of vendors were faintly audible.

The ordinary citizens did not yet know that this very morning, the Empire's national fortune had undergone a fundamental turning point.

Yashiro Rokurō took a deep breath and walked toward the black sedan already waiting at the entrance. The driver opened the door for him; he sat down and closed his eyes.

The car started, heading toward the building that would decide his fate.

Prime Minister's Official Residence, Conference Room, 10:30 AM

The atmosphere in the conference room was already strained to the breaking point.

Around the rectangular conference table sat all the core members of the cabinet: Prime Minister Ōkuma Shigenobu in the main seat, with Army Minister Oka Ichinosuke, Home Minister, and Justice Minister on his left; on his right were Foreign Minister Katō Takaaki, Finance Minister Wakatsuki Reijirō, and the newly arrived Navy Minister Yashiro Rokurō.

At the end of the table sat several generals in military uniform—Army Chief of Staff General Hasegawa Yoshimichi and Navy Chief of Naval General Staff Vice Admiral Shimada Shigetarō. They were attending as military representatives.

Prime Minister Ōkuma Shigenobu was sixty-seven years old, his hair completely white, but his eyes were still sharp. He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"Gentlemen, everyone is here. Then, let the meeting begin."

He paused, looking at Yashiro Rokurō. "Navy Minister, please first brief us on the battle situation in the East China Sea. We need to know... what exactly happened."

Everyone's gaze converged on Yashiro Rokurō.

Yashiro Rokurō slowly stood up, took the document Shimada Shigetarō had prepared for him from his briefcase. He did not open it, but spoke directly:

"Mr. Prime Minister, fellow colleagues. Between 6:40 AM and 8:30 AM this morning, the main force of the Imperial Navy's Combined Fleet engaged the main fleet of the Lanfang Navy in the central East China Sea."

His voice was very steady, but every word was as cold as shards of ice. "According to available intelligence, the results of this battle are as follows: Our side lost four Kongō-class battlecruisers—Kongō, Hiei, Haruna, and Kirishima—all confirmed sunk. Four heavy cruisers—Chikuma, Aoba, Kinugasa, and Myōkō—confirmed sunk. Thirteen destroyers, three light cruisers, and one battleship (Kawachi)—confirmed sunk or heavily damaged and combat-ineffective."

With every name he reported, the temperature in the room dropped another degree. When he finished, the entire room was as cold as an ice cellar.

"Preliminary estimates of personnel losses..." Yashiro Rokurō paused, "exceed four thousand. This includes Combined Fleet Commander-in-Chief Vice Admiral Kato Tomosaburo, Chief of Staff Captain Kuroshima Kameo, and numerous ship captains and senior officers."

Dead silence.

A full minute of dead silence.

Then, Army Minister Oka Ichinosuke suddenly slammed the table and stood up, his gaunt face twisted with rage. "Four thousand men! Four Kongō-class ships! Minister Yashiro, please tell me, how was this battle fought?!"

His voice was sharp and shrill, cutting through the air like a knife. "How much of the people's blood taxes did the Imperial Navy spend? Forty percent of the annual budget was given to the Navy! And the result? The result is that in one hour, you handed the Empire's most elite fleet over to the enemy?!"

"Oka-kun!" Foreign Minister Katō Takaaki tried to intervene. "Now is not the time to assign blame..."

"Not the time? Then when is the time!" Oka Ichinosuke paid no attention and continued roaring at Yashiro Rokurō. "You Navy men have been strutting around for years, always talking about 'sea control' and 'fleet decisive battle,' and the first real decisive battle ends in such a crushing defeat! What do you want the people to think? What do you want His Majesty the Emperor to think?!"