Chapter 105
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: The Magician of Leavenworth (9)
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As usual, I stepped into the soul-devouring study, but this time it felt like it wasn't the guest's soul on the line—mine was the one about to get sucked dry.
Ernest King.
What kind of name is King for a person? King. If he'd shown up wearing a jaguar mask, at least I'd give him that.
"......"
"......Would you like a cup of tea?"
"If you have brandy, mix some in."
"Of course."
Cough, hack. My precious liquor.
But with sins weighing on me, I meekly poured a generous splash of brandy into the black tea. For health and beauty, black tea with brandy is the way to go. I admit it.
In truth, what came out wasn't black tea with brandy—it was brandy with a hint of tea leaves—but King seemed to prefer it that way.
"Thank you. The aroma is exquisite."
"Liquor's harder to come by these days than stars in the sky."
"Don't worry about what happened earlier. Kids learn by watching adults, after all."
This guy's subtly jabbing at me.
"I don't hold back with my words at home either, so I can't swear my boys won't pull something like that in the Army. No hard feelings."
"Appreciate the consideration."
"On that note, your son seems awfully sharp. Why not send him to Annapolis when he grows up? He looks like he'd bridge the Army and Navy nicely."
Get lost.
I'd never send Henry into that den of Satan.
Tell me to ship my precious son off to Annapolis, crawling with racists and pureblood supremacists? Not even over my dead body.
If the kid chose it himself, maybe... but if that happened, I'd raze Meyer—no, Kimura—to the ground. Fat chance of that, though.
"Haha. In the land of the free United States, how could I dictate my son's future? Naturally, he'd want to follow in his father's footsteps and become a proud U.S. Army officer."
"Environment shapes a child, doesn't it? With that in mind, I hope your son gains broad experiences and an open mind."
Wow. Look at this guy. Hits where it hurts.
His subtle solar plexus punches are an art form. Feels like taking 2 damage every cooldown.
This bastard won't let it go. Every time we meet from now on, he'll chase me down yelling, "You bastard!" and bring it up again. What a vicious seal. Lucky for me, I won't cross paths with seals much.
"Let's get to work."
"Indeed. Another brandy?"
Didn't even ask for tea this time.
I poured King another drink, then downed one myself to clear the lump in my throat. Ah, finally I can breathe.
"Obviously, this is just Ernest King satisfying his personal curiosity by meeting the Army's so-called hero, Captain Kim."
"I get it. Just drop the 'hero' part, thanks."
"An Asian achieving that feat? Deserves the hero label. As you said, America's the land of the free, and those who make the American Dream real warrant praise to match."
Once we shifted to business, King unexpectedly showed goodwill toward me.
"I've heard you have exceptional insight into Asia."
"A bit more than most."
"Confidence suits you. Well then... shall we have a little 'personal' debate?"
I unrolled the world map, and without a word, we both lit up cigarettes.
"Orange—nah, too much hassle. Let's just call them Japan."
"Lucky I'm not calling them Japs, huh?"
"Personally, Japs rolls off the tongue nicer."
"Japs it is, then."
"Good."
I arranged the prepped game pieces on the map.
U.S. pieces piled thick in key areas.
The Philippines.
And Hawaii.
"Japs can't project power to Hawaii no matter what they try."
"......"
"Got a counterargument? Did Japs secretly develop tech to dash 4,000 miles and torch Pearl Harbor while I wasn't looking?"
Sheesh, this guy's impatient.
Anyone overhearing would think I said I turn into a fighter jet. Relax, Colonel King. It's not the Empire of the Rising Sun—it's the Empire of Japan.
I debated spilling the Pearl Harbor surprise attack, then decided to just throw it out there. No need to pinpoint the date anyway.
"Impossible right now, obviously. But we're not prepping for next year's war—we're gaming out some unknown future moment."
"True."
"I'm no Navy expert. But I watched humanity turn the skies into battlefields in Europe, live."
King caught on, wiping the smirk from his lips and turning serious.
"Aircraft?"
"Why not? Think how we laughed at 'air superiority' or 'aerial bombing' ten years ago."
"The Navy's already concluded aircraft will play a role in future sea battles. But hitting Hawaii? That's sci-fi territory."
"Quite the opposite."
I slid the orange pieces across the vast Pacific, near Hawaii.
"Japan's smartest Navy officers are probably pondering the same: how to beat the U.S."
"Naturally."
"And their conclusion's obvious. Torch Pearl Harbor in a first strike, turn the Pacific Fleet into chum—that's their only shot at hope."
"I see. Not that aircraft will advance that far, but—"
"Japs will pour years and budgets into developing planes that can burn Pearl Harbor. It's their sole path to victory."
King pondered silently instead of replying.
He spoke only after draining his glass, as his cigarette burned to ash.
"If I were a Japanese Navy officer, I'd fight tooth and nail for aircraft that can hit Pearl Harbor—and carriers to launch them at sea. Makes sense."
Done.
I want nothing more. Just planting the aerial bombing seed scores me points.
"If Pearl Harbor's Pacific Fleet takes a heavy hit."
"The door to the Philippines swings open."
"Indochina Peninsula and southern resource zones—places Japs will fight tooth and nail for. Hong Kong, Singapore, French Indochina, Dutch East Indies."
"Japan's Navy gains free rein in the western Pacific."
"Meaning their Army can land anywhere they want."
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Pieces moved swiftly.
No matter the British Empire's forts and defenses, they can't hold every piddly speck.
Defensive lines exist to be breached.
Even the Maginot Line, French pride and joy, got flanked. Forts force enemy losses—they don't hold forever.
Coastal forts without sea control? Meaningless.
We ruthlessly swept British pieces off the map.
"South to Indonesian oil fields. West to British Burma. That's Japan's max reach."
"How long to send a fleet to the Philippines if the Pacific Fleet's hit?"
"Two years. At least."
"Can't hold it, then."
How the hell do you survive two years in those jungles?
Guerrilla war needs supplies. Isolated in the Philippines? Pray you don't get malaria.
"...Isn't that the Army's job?"
"You're joking."
"Take it as one. Even Robert E. Lee reborn couldn't hold the Philippines. I don't know land—er, Army well, but that's certain. Damn it."
This prick just said "land dog" on purpose. Asshole.
Even Army plans cap Philippine defense at six months. Internal docs mentioning "heroic struggles inspiring national will" say it all.
Neither of us suggested basing a fleet there. Assuming Pearl Harbor burns, it'd just get hammered harder.
King doesn't know, but our thought experiment mirrors the 1941 Pacific War.
Army officers fighting in the Pacific? Philippines, China, or Marine island hops... Philippines is hell. Scorpions in the jungle, then surrender.
"Talk of major Navy bases and forts in the Philippines has floated for decades."
"Has it."
"Your take? Could a fleet based there deter Japs?"
"Sure. Until they prep to torch it."
"So, no. Let's rewind—no damn aircraft."
Pacific Fleet stays safe.
But America still gets blindsided, while Japs dig into Southeast Asia?
"Still insane."
King figures relief fleet to Philippines: fastest one and a half years.
No real change. Building new ships, Atlantic reinforcements, battle fleet prep—Philippines falls meantime.
"Our Chief of Staff wants a massive Guam base. Use it as a forward base for quicker Philippine relief."
"Hmm."
"Your Army's not thrilled."
No kidding. I've seen the plan.
But battleship guns outrange coastal artillery—how do you fix that? Gets shelled unilaterally.
"If they take that Guam base, doesn't Hawaii get threatened?"
"Exactly. Handing Japs a favor—that's the big flaw."
Drinks ran dry.
Time to pivot.
"Interested in politics?"
"No."
Short, firm answer.
"Not suggesting you run. We execute politicians' orders representing the people's will, right?"
"Sure, but D.C. spouting nonsense again?"
"As you know, President-elect Harding aims for 'normalcy.' Massive disarmament looming."
Even Army's shrinking to 100,000.
IMF-level bloodbath? No—worse. Guys submitting discharge papers spiked post-election.
"How many new bases or fleets get funded?"
"Britain and Japan ramp Navy spending. If we skimp and lag, threats grow—more spending in the end."
That's right, but wrong outcome.
Washington Naval Treaty incoming.
So, what do I do?
Korea liberated, Tokyo flattened—great.
But does it help my path? Head tilts.
Worst case: Philippine defense commander, captured by Japs.
"So you're skeptical on holding the Philippines?"
"From our talk? Doubtful."
"Gonna report it?"
"Crazy?"
"Yeah. My neck's precious too."
Say "abandon Philippines" aloud? Traitor stamp instant.
Feels like saying "Can't hold Dokdo—give it up."
Philippines and Dokdo differ in meaning, value, strategy—but same end: head chopped.
We stared holes into the map, littered with scattered pieces.