The War Doesn't Change #3: We're Fucked
Shit. I'm pretty sure I'm fucked. That was my conclusion.
Originally, I'd planned to leak false intel to the Netherlands to get the British to smash Japan. Up to that point, everything was fine. The already tense relations between the Netherlands and Britain made them swallow the enemy's information without a second thought. It wasn't the first time subordinates were less trustworthy than enemies, after all.
The problem? Well, the drugs hit harder than I expected. And what's the reason for that? Me. Not that I escalated the incident myself, but my very existence blew it up. The British act like gentlemen, but at their core, they're pirates—focused on plunder over peril. Screaming about abolishing slavery while funneling arms to the Slave Federation Republic in South America? That takes real balls. So why would Britain bring not just the Eastern Fleet but the entire Royal Navy? Simple. If the opponent was Europe, America, India, China, or even some unheard-of Wakanda African Union. But if not? The Korean Empire. Me.
Those bastards seem intent on fleecing me this time. My cautious maneuvering must've really gotten under their skin. Worst case, I might have to brace for Seoul turning into a sea of flames.
I lit a cigarette with deliberate calm when the newly appointed British envoy to Korea, Thomas, told me to prepare for punishing Japan.
The British cabinet had mixed feelings about this backwater called Korea. In the 1900 elections, the Conservatives had once again saved the homeland from those vulgar Liberals. But without the Boer War—and the de facto victory there—that "inevitable" win might not have been so inevitable.
Still, that was then; this was now. The Conservatives toasted their immediate triumph. But you drink, you get drunk—that's human nature. Now that they'd reformed the cabinet, cleaning up the mess was their job.
Fortunately, shots were still ringing out in South Africa, but the rest was just mopping up remnants. No need to keep hundreds of thousands of conscripts idle. Why bother? "The economy's already in the shitter—what's the point?" Send them back to the factories, fix this goddamn recession, and Conservative rule would be eternal. Everyone thought so.
But then came the news from the East: Japan's shenanigans in Southeast Asia, whispers of an Anglo-Japanese alliance. And Korea—on bad terms with the Netherlands lately—warning them about it. Suddenly, Britain gets this scarlet dispatch out of nowhere. The cabinet was baffled, dumbfounded.
They'd seized power on patriotic fervor and safeguarding interests. Now, just as they wanted to take it easy, another fire erupted. A lukewarm response to this tabloid fodder? The Liberals would go berserk. The Suez Canal was open, reducing South Africa to a sideshow for tea trade. Leaving that mess while skimping on vital tea routes? The cabinet—Conservatives!—would face no-confidence motions and every smear in the book.
Worse: this Anglo-Japanese alliance. It was the ruling Conservatives who'd secretly explored it. Isolationist as they were, they quietly admitted solo against Russia, Germany, and America was impossible. Time to forge a counterweight for overly isolated Britain. The Liberals knew too—just couldn't mention it officially, calling it "secret inquiries."
But Japan's rise had quietly torpedoed it. Liberals tacitly agreed. Too big a powder keg; if they took power, they'd have to clean it up themselves. No need to ignite it.
Plans don't vanish just because you fold them away. Everyone knew the cabinet had pursued it. And the Conservatives knew the Liberals would negotiate or hit the streets based on their response.
The real issue? Korea was citing that exact alliance to warn the Netherlands. Korea was the final plug in the anti-Russia containment net. Everything else was secondary. So when scandalous rumors hit the press, the cabinet dithered—war chest already sunk in South Africa.
Right then, Britain's massive shadow grew certain. There's a crafty one here. None other than in this place. Korea: investing worldwide amid recession, raking in windfalls. Warning Netherlands about Britain's secret Anglo-Japanese talks. Impossible yields without insider info. Cooperating with British world order yet denying even the pretext they craved. A tough nut, every angle knotted.
No coincidence. Having pored over every word of former envoy Arthur Balfour's reports, the shadow resolved: make Korea a rock-solid pro-British state. Scared of Anglo-Japanese? Park a battleship in Seoul, seal Anglo-Korean alliance. Ganghwa Island as proof.
Given those insane returns, Korea's leader wouldn't touch a bad deal. So make defecting from pro-British status a raw deal.
"Print bonds and mobilize. Target: punish Japan. If they resist, depose the Emperor and turn it into the United Japanese Company."
"If Korea dares oppose, extract fitting concessions."
Britain wouldn't sit idly as Korea inch-by-inch morphed from Empire to Commune. Bonus: teach those Japanese a lesson.
At that moment, Japan—receiving what wasn't quite an ultimatum but felt like one—prepared the dogeza spot.
Just hand it all over, seal Anglo-Japanese. Easy.
"Every scenario, we win if we fight."
Yield Korea to British sway, Japan crumbles—but refuse, and it's now. Above all, Japan saw Korea as culprit. Britain waved flimsy "evidence" pinning it on Japan, but talk it out. Misunderstanding, right? Fixable.
Problem: Japan judged Britain rationally. All negotiations? Futile wasted effort. Like Korea with Britain before.
Truth meant nothing to gossip-mad Britain. Japan didn't know—or deluded itself.
"Hear ye, Japan."
The vanguard Eastern Fleet, departing first, faced Japan—dogeza-ready in Hong Kong—and issued the ultimatum.
Leave Southeast Asia now. Philippines now. Taiwan now.
Three articles. Japan could stomach that much. Southeast? No ports yet—what more to leave? But behind that rough Eastern Fleet? The massive Royal Navy. Japan braced for blood oaths even against the Easterners—leagues apart.
Clear misunderstandings gradually, salvage. So Japan thought.
What Japan couldn't swallow: the next article. Since Japan blamed Korea's schemes, if true, join in subjugating it. And Korea-Britain would ally henceforth—be informed.
"Bend us over and over till we're worms."
Japan harbored deep resentment toward the "English bitches." No concessions, broken promises.
Korea? Knew mutual ruin if Japan fell. No longer little brother, but successful sibling.
But this? Great Empire as total shit? Unthinkable otherwise.
Sans Southeast, Philippines, Taiwan—Japan clings to Korea. Yet Britain allies with Korea? Subjugates it? Lets Japan idly watch? Telling Japan to scram from Korea?
Even using Japan's hands to threaten. What did Korea think of Japan?
The treaty's implications: Korea hadn't bent to Britain. If it had, no such demand—just notice.
Japan figured it'd kneel humiliatingly, unaware of depths below rock bottom.
Japan planned: if culprit Korea bends to Britain, mediate for concessions. Even if Britain targeted Japan as pretext, kneel now, compromise later. Old acquaintances, right?
But if "old ties" meant smiles upfront, shit-talk behind—unbearable. Especially valuing Korea higher.
Hong Kong's night: this sleepless city buzzing with Chinese trade. British fleet played gracious host.
Royal Navy: "Need homeland orders for more." Half-hostage, wining with Itō Sukeyuki.
British sailors, China-obsessed, eyed the admiral who'd crushed Qing navy. They clicked well. State-level Anglo-Japanese tension; navy to navy? Just tough guys.
With Japanese admiral aboard, Royal Navy feted him in Hong Kong waters.
"I'll stay—don't drag battleships from home." What to do? They knew endgame was Korea, not Japan. So they boozed.
Ah, homeland orders needed. And as all passed out, Itō went topside for air.
Hong Kong. East Asia's Western symbol. Dazzling, stealing eyes unwittingly.
But sans Japan's seat at West's table? No choice.
Watch ticked set time. Itō drew loaded revolver from breast pocket.
Suddenly, sparks bloomed amid battleships.
Dim night sea. Battleships' sleek hulls spotlit beautifully.