Sending People to Their Death? I'm Going Too

Fengtian, the Neon Consulate.

A stifling atmosphere hung in the air, and even the winter sunlight outside the window seemed to carry a chill.

Sato Kenichi hurried into Yamada Ichiro's office, snapped to attention, and bowed.

"The army's special New Year's Day exercise in Liaoyang has gone silent." Sato Kenichi's voice was dry. He kept his head lowered, not daring to look at his superior's expression. "One hundred and thirty Imperial Warriors are missing. The only survivor is Colonel Matsui Shigeki. Overseas Chinese nearby found him, but..."

He paused, as if searching for the right words.

"But what?" Yamada Ichiro finally turned around. His sharp gaze made Sato Kenichi feel a sudden, inexplicable pressure.

"He's gravely wounded. Extremely... badly. He was sent to a hospital in Lüshun. The doctors say whether he'll live is up to fate."

Sato Kenichi added, "From Colonel Matsui's fragmented account, they were hit by a covering strike from unidentified artillery."

"Unidentified artillery?" Yamada Ichiro's lips curled in scorn. "On Feng Army territory, who else could have guns that shoot so accurately and hit so hard, besides that old fox Zhang Yuting?"

"Yes, sir!" Sato Kenichi lowered his head even further. "The General Staff Headquarters' orders are... to announce that the shells used in the exercise were defective and detonated prematurely. They want us to exercise restraint and avoid any clashes with the Feng Army for now."

"Defective shells? Premature detonation?"

Yamada Ichiro walked behind his desk and sat down. He leisurely lit a cigar, his expression unreadable behind the swirling smoke.

"What a fine excuse. It saves the Army Department's face and gives those of us out here cleaning up their mess a way to save face, too."

"They're telling us to swallow this loss, whether we like it or not."

Sato Kenichi didn't dare reply.

He knew that calling this incident a case of stealing a chicken only to lose the rice would be putting it mildly. They had practically stuck out their faces to be slapped hard, then had to smile and say, "Good hit."

"How is that Chu Shixin investigation coming along?" Yamada Ichiro blew out a ring of smoke.

"He's the head of Zhang Yuting's artillery forces, a complete lunatic." Sato Kenichi answered quickly. "They say that back when he was at the Military Academy, he nearly crippled a Japanese instructor after falling out with him. For years, he's been in charge of Zhang Yuting's artillery. They've spent a fortune buying guns from all over the world, and he trains his men harshly. His methods are also... extremely unscrupulous."

"Unscrupulous?" Yamada Ichiro laughed. "How could the methods that sent a full-strength elite observation regiment to meet Amaterasu be unscrupulous? They're the finest methods!"

"Our Intelligence Department has been too arrogant. They still think the Feng Army is that rabble from before, all carrying Old Barrels."

Yamada Ichiro's gaze passed over Sato and out toward the prosperous city of Fengtian.

"Times have changed, Sato."

"Zhang Yuting's claws have grown sharp enough."

Fengtian, Marshal's Mansion, Great Green House.

The heating inside roared, but the atmosphere was colder than the ice and snow outside.

Zhang Yuting sat at the head of the room, rolling two gleaming walnuts in his hand, his face as dark as still water.

Before him stood his younger son, Zhang Xueming, ramrod straight, his neck stiff and his handsome face full of stubborn resolve.

Beside him, his eldest son, Zhang Xueliang, looked anxious. He wanted to persuade them, but didn't know where to begin.

"Say that again?" Zhang Yuting finally spoke. His hands never stopped rolling the walnuts, but each word seemed forced through clenched teeth.

"Father! I said Ulan Province has to send troops!" Zhang Xueming stood his ground, his voice ringing with conviction. "Those princes and living Buddhas must have been kicked in the head by a donkey to dare declare independence! If White Bear wasn't backing them, they wouldn't dare do it even with ten times the nerve!"

"If we do nothing today, we'll lose that land for good!"

"Lose it?" Zhang Yuting sneered. "That place is nothing but sand and rocks, poor as dirt. The wind blows all year, and the winters freeze people to death. I send troops there, and who's paying for their food and lodging? For a barren wasteland like that, you'd pick a fight with White Bear? You're the one who got kicked in the head!"

"It's still our land!" Zhang Xueming's temper flared. "Our ancestors passed it down to us. We can't lose an inch! If we lose Ulan today, will we be unable to hold Rehe tomorrow? They're boiling us like frogs in warm water. By the time we wake up, they'll have our own doorstep blocked!"

"You don't know a damn thing!" Zhang Yuting slammed the walnuts onto the table, and they landed with a dull thump. "War takes money and people! I worked my tail off to build up this little bit of wealth. It's not for you to throw away!"

"Father, Xueming isn't entirely wrong." Seeing this, Zhang Xueliang hurried forward to smooth things over. "Ulan Province really is strategically important. It's a barrier to our north. We could send people to negotiate first and see how things stand..."

"Negotiate? What's there to negotiate with a bunch of Puppet Traitors who are dead set on selling out their ancestors for glory?" Zhang Xueming cut his elder brother off. "The only solution is to fight! Beat them until it hurts, until they're scared, and then they'll know who's boss!"