Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: East Asia on the Eve of the Storm
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“Should we really accept Germany's proposal so readily?”
Late at night, Count Lamsdorff, the Russian Empire's Foreign Minister, visited Witte's mansion with a worried look on his face as he spoke to Witte.
The Russian Empire had accepted the German Empire's proposal.
Though there were still details to negotiate at the working level, the Tsar had already made up his mind, and Witte had cast his silent vote of approval. The decision was final.
“I'm still not sure if this is truly the right choice for Russia. And even with Germany's support, how can we be certain of victory in a war?”
Witte nodded as he poured liquor into Lamsdorff's glass in response to his minister's skeptical words.
It was a valid point. Weapons, after all, could become the most powerful tools in skilled hands or mere useless scrap metal in incompetent ones.
And the Imperial Russian Army that Witte knew, along with the generals who led it, were far from competent.
To the point where he sometimes let out a sigh.
“Vladimir, our goal isn't to defeat Japan. We just need to avoid defeat.”
“Pardon? What do you mean by that?”
“The war with Japan is a meaningless one that brings no benefit to our Russian Empire—especially not in the current situation.”
The Russian people's patience was reaching its limit amid ongoing poverty and hunger.
Of course, Witte bore some responsibility for this, having pursued excessive grain exports to fund Russia's belated industrialization compared to the West. Still, in the worst case, a war with Japan could ignite the fury of the Russian people.
'I can't hand this country over to those immature revolutionaries.'
Of course, the best outcome would be no war at all, but the situation had already spiraled beyond Witte's control toward extremes.
Men like Bezobrazov and Alexeyev, backed by the Tsar's favor, had stirred unnecessary tensions in the Far East for their own gain and power, while Japan, allied with Britain, was preparing for war.
'War is now just a matter of time.'
If you couldn't avoid the wave, you had to prepare to face it.
And that was why Witte had accepted the deal with the Oriental boy who had accompanied Prince Heinrich—Baron Hans von Choi.
Witte's aim was to minimize Russia's losses in a war with Japan while preserving national strength as much as possible.
To achieve that, the war needed to end as quickly as possible, and the baron had shown him the path.
'Where on earth did the Kaiser pick up such a gem?'
At first, he'd thought him just a clever kid, but meeting Hans von Choi in person revealed a cunning fox of a boy, sly as any Englishman.
Thank goodness German and Russian interests aligned; otherwise, he would have been a real headache.
“Northern Manchuria.”
“Pardon?”
“He promised to mediate so we get northern Manchuria when the peace treaty with Japan is signed. Mongolia too, depending on the circumstances.”
That was what Witte had gained from his deal with Hans, and it was the bare minimum Britain and Japan could accept.
“In exchange, we'd have to give up Korea and Port Arthur—Lüshun.”
“Even so, northern Manchuria... that's not bad.”
“Exactly. It's not a bad deal.”
Witte nodded at his Foreign Minister's words.
The British pirates wouldn't dare interfere if Russia gave up Korea and Port Arthur for northern Manchuria in the armistice terms.
Of course, Bezobrazov's clique, with their heavy investments in the Far East, would be pulling long faces—but that suited Witte just fine.
He had always favored developing and exploiting land over reckless expansion in the Far East.
'Of course, not losing the war comes first.'
Defeat meant no mediation, no Manchuria—nothing.
With no real alternatives, accepting German military aid and taking what they could was the best course.
It didn't sit well feeling played by a child, though.
“For the sake of the Russian Empire, it's a loss we can bear.”
Witte muttered as he raised his glass.
“For the Great Empire of Japan!”
“Hooray!”
As Witte tilted his glass, content with his deal with Hans, a banquet celebrating the Anglo-Japanese Alliance was in full swing in Tokyo, Japan's capital.
“An alliance with the mighty British Empire—how moving this is!”
“Now, our Great Empire of Japan can stand tall as a true great power.”
“Of course! Hahaha!”
The high officials and nobles gathered here clinked glasses excitedly, bursting into laughter.
It was a joyous day when Japan had become equals with the Western powers they both feared and admired.
How could they not rejoice?
Of course, the Westerners had no intention of truly treating Japanese as equals.
But the oblivious Japanese dreamed happily of a bright future.
And Prime Minister Katsura Tarō, the 11th cabinet head of the Great Empire of Japan, shared that sentiment.
“Katsura, there you are.”
“Your Excellency Yamamoto!”
At the arrival of Yamagata Aritomo—father of the Japanese army and head of the Chōshū clan—Prime Minister Katsura promptly bowed deeply and respectfully.
Anyone watching might mistake Yamagata for the prime minister.
It was a scene that instantly revealed who truly held power in Japan.
“You worked hard to make the Anglo-Japanese Alliance happen. Good call making you prime minister.”
“Nonsense, Your Excellency. Without your guidance, how could I have achieved this alone?”
“Hahaha! Such flattery. But now we can accelerate military expansion.”
“Naturally.”
Hahaha!
Katsura and Yamagata clinked glasses, laughing heartily.
“Katsura! Yamagata!”
But the jovial mood shattered at the roar of an old man from the banquet hall entrance.
Yamagata turned, his face souring.
“...Itō.”
Itō Hirobumi.
One of Japan's political giants, part of the Chōshū triumvirate alongside Yamagata Aritomo and Inoue Kaoru.
His sudden appearance silenced the hall as if doused by cold water.
“How dare you conclude an alliance with Britain without informing me! Are you really planning to go to war with the Russian Empire?!”
“Itō, not here. Let's talk outside.”
Yamagata sighed wearily.
This was why he'd deliberately avoided Itō—it had backfired.
Dragging Itō out of the hall, Yamagata looked at his old friend with pitying eyes as the man still fumed.
“Even the great Shunsuke has turned coward.”
“I'm just trying to save the Great Empire of Japan from you war-mad lunatics! Do you really think we have a chance against Russia?!”
Itō Hirobumi staunchly opposed war with Russia.
He had led the Sino-Japanese War himself, but Russia was no corrupt, inept Qing Dynasty.
To Itō, war with Russia was like an egg smashing against a rock.
“Are you saying we just hand Korea and Lüshun over to those Rossiya bastards?!”
Frustrated by his friend's obtuseness, Yamagata bellowed.
For Japan to become a true great power, it had to annex Korea as a base, then push into vast Manchuria and the continent beyond.
They couldn't halt for fear of Russia!
“Japan today isn't the Japan that trembled before the black ships. We have a solid chance of victory!”
“A chance? Against that colossal Russian Empire? This is madness. Why can't you see that?!”
Itō cried out desperately, but Yamagata Aritomo didn't even bother listening.
He just shook his head in disappointment at Itō.
“Everything was decided long ago—while you were wasting time negotiating with those Rossiya fools.”
“You... you bastards...!”
Yamagata turned his back on Itō and walked away.
For Japan's prosperity, they needed Korea—and ultimately, vast Qing lands.
Even if the path was stained with blood.
“Master, today's newspaper.”
“Leave it there.”
Meanwhile, in the Korean Empire—where tensions simmered between Russia and Japan—a man sensed the harbinger of the storm about to hit Korea and smirked.
“Ha! The Anglo-Japanese Alliance signed. Japan will move soon.”
The man muttered as he read the article.
Retired from office, idling away in his hometown with books, he prided himself on having a keener eye for politics than anyone in Korea.
'Japan will definitely go to war with Russia!'
He knew well Japan's ambitions and hunger for Korea.
The Eulmi Incident hadn't happened for nothing.
As long as Korea remained in Russia's sphere, Japan would risk war with Russia to pull it back into theirs.
But what would the outcome be?
'Can Japan beat Russia?'
The man believed it possible.
Once pro-Russian himself, he knew Russia's weaknesses intimately.
How incompetent and hollow they were.
“Soon, Japan will dominate Korea again.”
Russian forces in the Maritime Province and Liaodong couldn't beat the Japanese.
Even with railways, reinforcements from the Russian heartland would take time.
And with the mighty British Empire now backing Japan via the alliance, the war favored Japan.
The bear-like northern barbarians would never admit it, of course.
'The wildcard, though...'
That was the Korean Empire—Korea itself.
In war, Japan would secure supply lines by taking Korea first.
But if all of Korea rose up, clinging to Japan's legs, it would be Japan's worst nightmare.
“Of course, that's absurd.”
The brilliant Emperor in distant Seoul was a hopeless incompetent and greedy fool.
The cowardly sovereign would no doubt cower the moment Japanese boots hit Korean soil, meekly stamping treaties as ordered.
“Time to switch from Russia to Japan.”
The man grinned slyly.
He had flipped from pro-Qing to pro-American, then pro-Russian.
Changing sides was second nature.
Some would call him a traitor, betrayer, opportunist.
But what was wrong with siding with the victor?
He didn't want to be a loser.
He wanted success—enough to live luxuriously forever.
'...Like that young baron.'
Muttering, he pulled out a carefully folded newspaper from his drawer.
It reported a Qing prince performing the full kowtow of atonement to the German Emperor.
A huge scandal in Korea too, but what caught the man's eye was the small Oriental boy beside the Emperor.
“Baron Hans von Choi.”
He was Korean.
“Choi Hansu in Korean, was it?”
Now, everyone in Korea knew this 'boy baron.'
The tale of the Korean youth avenging the 'Triple Shrine Incident' had shocked and inspired people in these dark times.
'Some fools are saying the baron will borrow German troops from the German Emperor to save Korea?'
To the man, it was utter nonsense.
Why would a baron living lavishly in Germany help this penniless beggar of a country?
“Enviable. Truly enviable.”
While he wasted away thanks to that idiot Yi Myeong-bok, the boy baron basked in the Kaiser's favor for saving his life, living gloriously as a high German noble.
And rumor had it he'd even inherited a vast mansion and fortune from the recently deceased Dowager Empress—enough to stir jealousy in any man.
“Nothing says I can't do the same.”
He was done with a failed life chained to outdated loyalty and patriotism.
He wanted the baron's kind of success.
“For that, what's one country?”
Yi Wan-yong muttered with a vile smile.
A storm was brewing in East Asia.