Chapter 233: Then, Change the Prime Minister

"They don't dare to attack our warships, so they take out their anger on merchant ships!"

"Cowards! A bunch of cowards!"

Changgu Chuan Haodao banged the table heavily: "Enough! What good does shouting do? The problem now is, what shall we do?"

He looked at Gang Shi Zhizhu: "Minister, the prime minister has decided on peace talks; do you intend to obey?"

Gang Shi Zhizhu remained silent for a long while. He recalled the words of You Peng from Bai Tian Shan County, the fatigue of Si Nei Zhengyi, the pessimism of Dongxiang Pingbalang, and the composure of Shanben Quanbingwei.

But he thought even more of the news of Spring Day Maru sinking, of those merchant ships trapped at sea, of workers who lost their jobs because the ports were bombarded, and of citizens who panicked as the maritime supply line was cut.

"If we negotiate," he began slowly, "Lanfang will put forward conditions that everyone already knows: three hundred million in reparations, naval restrictions, opening ports… These are conditions for national ruin! If we accept them, the Empire is finished! Forever finished!"

"Then what do you mean?" a division commander asked anxiously.

"My meaning is…" Gang Shi Zhizhu stood up, a resolute light flashing in his eyes, "We can negotiate, but we cannot surrender. If Lanfang's terms are too excessive, we will…"

He did not finish the sentence, but everyone present understood.

"But what if the prime minister insists on accepting?" Changgu Chuan Haodao asked.

Gang Shi Zhizhu stared at him and said word for word: "Then we change the prime minister."

The words exploded like a bomb in the conference room. Everyone was stunned, even the most hawkish generals had not expected Gang Shi Zhizhu to say such a thing.

"Minister, you are…" the Army deputy minister's voice trembled.

"I say, change the prime minister." Gang Shi Zhizhu repeated, his voice even colder, "Si Nei Zhengyi is too weak, Shanben Quanbingwei too pessimistic, Dongxiang too old. They only see failure and not hope. But the Army still has a million elite troops and the support of a hundred million citizens! As long as we do not give up, we have a chance!"

"But…" a relatively rational officer whispered, "But we cannot defeat Lanfang's navy. Their warships bombard our ports from a range we cannot reach, sinking our merchant ships. What shall we do?"

"Then let them land!" Gang Shi Zhizhu roared, "If they dare to land, the Army can wipe them out! During the Russo-Japanese War, we at Port Arthur and in Fengtian blocked the Russian artillery with flesh and blood. It is the same now! Even if ten lives are exchanged for one, even a hundred lives for one, we must let them know Japan is not easy to bully!"

His voice echoed in the conference room, carrying an almost fanatical passion: "Gentlemen, think! If we accept this humiliating peace today, how will our descendants view us? They will say our forebears were a band of cowards, cowards who would not fight! The Empire's glory and the spirit of Bushido will be utterly lost!"

The officers were infected by his words, their eyes reddening, fists clenched.

"Minister, you are right! We cannot surrender!"

"Better to shatter like jade than be whole as broken tiles!"

"Let Lanfang's men come! Let them see the might of the Imperial Army!"

Only a few remained silent, but their voices were drowned in the fervent shouts.

Gang Shi Zhizhu watched the scene with satisfaction. He knew he now had the Army's support. With that support, he could oppose the prime minister, oppose the navy, and even… oppose the emperor.

"Then," he said finally, "Gentlemen, be prepared. Negotiations will proceed, but the Army's stance must be hard. If the terms are unacceptable, we will…"

He paused, then uttered the dreaded word: "Bingjian."

The conference room fell silent instantly. Everyone knew what "Bingjian" meant—using the Army's force to compel the government to change policy, even to replace the prime minister. This has precedents in Sakura Nation's history, but each time it came with bloodshed and turmoil.

"Minister," Changgu Chuan Haodao stood and bowed deeply, "The Army awaits your command."

Other officers also rose and bowed.

Gang Shi Zhizhu nodded, a complex light flashing in his eyes. Ambition, determination, and a hint… of fear.

He knew he was playing with fire. If he succeeded, he would be the Empire's savior; if he failed… he would be a traitor.

But there was no turning back.

The meeting ended, and the officers left one by one. In the end only Gang Shi Zhizhu and Changgu Chuan Haodao remained.

"Changgu," Gang Shi Zhizhu whispered, "Prepare a list. Everyone who might oppose us, everyone who might hinder us, must… be watched."

"Understood." Changgu's eyes flashed with cold light.

The two walked out of the conference room; the corridor was empty, only their footsteps echoing. Outside, Tokyo's night was deep, not a single star visible.

The storm was truly coming.

This time, it was not cannon fire from the sea, but internal tearing.

A nation, under the pressure of defeat, was tearing itself in two.

Sea of Japan, western Tsushima Strait, U-19 Submarine, 04:00.

The seawater was black as ink. The submarine sat at a depth of 120 meters, its motor running at minimum speed, the noise almost swallowed by the ocean's background. In the Signal Room, the operator wore headphones, eyes fixed on the waveform flashing on the display.

"Contact, bearing 075, Distance eight nautical miles, propeller noise signature… merchant ship, single shaft, RPM about one hundred per minute, speed estimated at 12 knots."

Submarine commander Li Wenbin crouched at the periscope console, eyes on the green night‑vision screen. Outside was pitch black, but through the starlight pattern he could see a vague ship silhouette drifting slowly on the sea.

"Identify," he whispered.

The observer flipped through the manual quickly: "Based on outline and size, a 5,000‑to‑7,000‑ton cargo vessel, possibly a Japanese Yamato Maru class. No escort ships present."

Li Wenbin nodded. This was the third ship they had spotted tonight. The Tsushima Strait is Japan's main channel linking Korea and China; even during the war, merchant ships still dared to pass—some unaware of the danger, some forced.

"Surface to periscope depth," he ordered.

The submarine began a slow ascent. The depth gauge needle ticked upward: 100 m, 80 m, 60 m…

"Periscope depth."

Li Wenbin raised the periscope, eye to the lens. Outside remained dark, but aided by faint moonlight he could make out the ship's outline. It was indeed a cargo vessel, its bow bearing the Japanese name "North Sea Maru," its smokestack belching black smoke, containers stacked on deck.

"Calculate parameters," he said.

The fire‑control officer immediately set the data: "Target bearing 040, speed 12 knots, distance 6,500 m. Torpedo depth set to 4 m, speed 40 knots, estimated run time after launch four minutes thirty seconds."

"Tubes one and two loading," Li Wenbin paused, "Hold on."

He kept watching. The cargo ship had no lights, but thermal imaging showed a few silhouettes in the bridge—perhaps crew on duty. No one was visible on deck, but in the hold… what was loaded? Food? Coal? Or military supplies?

"Commander?" the fire‑control officer asked.

"Record," he finally said, "September 5, 04:12, western Tsushima Strait, Japanese cargo ship 'North Sea Maru' detected, about 6,000 tons, no escort. Observation could not determine cargo type. According to command's order to 'cut Japan's maritime supply line,' our vessel will carry out the attack."

He crouched again at the periscope: "Tubes one and two, load, depth 4 m, speed 40 knots, fan‑spread pattern."

"Loading complete!"

"Inject water into the launch tubes!"

"Water injection complete!"

"Launch!"

The submarine gave a gentle shudder twice. Two torpedoes shot out of the launch tubes, dragging barely visible wakes, and surged toward the cargo ship six kilometers away.

Li Wenbin stared at his watch. The second hand ticked tick by tick: thirty seconds, one minute, two minutes…

"Sonar report, torpedo navigation normal, target has not evaded."