Republic of China: German-equipped divisions massacred as warlords guarded the nation's borders

A wrecked ship, terrified by submarines and brimming with fear and despair, is more likely to crush the enemy's will than a dead ship sinking to the bottom of the sea...

That's what they said, but Heinrich knew very well that this was the first large-scale group operation. Each submarine had many Chinese submarine trainees on board, and right now, they were more focused on learning than on actually annihilating the enemy.

After all, what the young marshal wanted was only control of the East China Sea, not naval supremacy over the entire East Asia.

For the submarine force to become completely independent and a force that strikes fear into the hearts of all the great powers, it will take time and more real combat experience to hone its skills.

Leaving one warcruiser would instill fear in the Japanese, but not so much that it would overwhelm them.

Perfect!

"Signal to all boats! All personnel descend to a safe depth of 60 meters! Disengage at full speed!"

"A clear message was sent to the Longhua Command: Hunt complete! Except for the enemy flagship, which was severely damaged and escaped, all other ships are sunk!"

"From this day forward, maritime power in the East China Sea belongs to the young marshal!"

Following Heinrich's orders, the thirteen black deep-sea ghosts, after leaving behind a deadly sea filled with floating wreckage and corpses, silently submerged back into the bottomless darkness.

They come without a trace and go without a trace.

All that remains for this world is a terrifying legend that would chill the hearts of all great powers.

……

At the same time, in Shanghai, in the International Settlement.

At the British Consulate General in Shanghai, Consul General Barton, dressed in silk pajamas, paced anxiously in front of the fireplace. News of the massive Japanese Third Fleet's southward advance from the Wusongkou waters hours earlier had reached his desk through intelligence networks from various countries.

U.S. Consul General Cunningham sat on the sofa, a glass of now-cold whiskey in his hand, his brow furrowed. Beside him sat French Consul General Welch, his expression one of detached indifference.

"Sir Baldon, do you think that madman Chen Zijun can stop the Japanese battlecruisers?" Cunningham's tone was tinged with doubt. "That's the 27,000-ton Kongo. Even if Chen's army's coastal defenses are strong, the Wusongkou Fortress probably won't last more than three days under the firepower of the naval guns."

"We were just forced to agree to pay him £300,000 a month in protection money," Barton gritted his teeth, his face ashen. "If he's defeated by the Japanese, are we supposed to hand over this money to them? The balance of power in the Far East will be completely disrupted, and the interests of the British Empire will be seriously threatened!"

"Knock knock knock!"

A series of urgent knocks sounded at the door, and the consulate's confidential secretary rushed in without waiting for Barton's response, clutching a telegram tightly in his hand.

"Your Excellency Consul General! Your Excellency Cunningham! The East China Sea naval battle... has a result!" The secretary gasped for breath, his eyes filled with a ghostly terror.

"So fast?" Bardon was taken aback. "Has Chen Zijun's fortress already been destroyed?"

"No...no..." The secretary swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he handed the telegram to Barton. "The Japanese Third Fleet, except for the Kongo which was severely damaged...was completely annihilated!"

"What did you say?!"

Bardon snatched the telegram, and Cunningham jumped up and leaned over to read it together.

When they saw the shocking figures of battle damage on the telegram—two heavy cruisers and eight destroyers were all sunk, and the Kongo was severely damaged and on the verge of collapse, and all of this had happened in just a few minutes, without even seeing a trace of Chen's army's warships—these two representatives of the great powers who had once held sway over the Far East were completely petrified.

"My God..." Cunningham's whiskey glass slammed onto the wool carpet, spilling amber liquid everywhere. He trembled violently, as if he were witnessing the end of the world.

"Submarines... massive submarine packs... and an advanced, high-yield torpedo that even our Great British Empire doesn't have..." Barton stared intently at the telegram, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead. His lips trembled as if he were reading a devil's pact.

When they were forced to pay that £500,000 protection fee, they felt somewhat humiliated and resentful, and even thought that once the Far East Fleet from China was dispatched, they would teach Chen Zijun a lesson.

But now, this ridiculous idea has been completely shattered!

Even the Japanese's invincible battlecruiser fleet was sent to the bottom of the sea in minutes. What would have happened if the British Far East Fleet had come?

"Quickly! Send a telegram to Lloyd's of London immediately!" Barton suddenly realized what was happening and roared hysterically, "Increase the protection fee for the Far East theater by another ten percent! Every month's protection fee—no, the air route security fee—must be deposited into Ms. Mo Huixin's account on time, without missing a single penny!"

"Also, immediately call the Admiralty in London!" Barton gasped for breath, his eyes filled with terror. "Tell them that until they find an effective way to deal with this deep-sea ghost, absolutely, absolutely do not provoke Chen Zijun at sea! He's not an ordinary warlord; he's a devil who wields the power to overthrow maritime hegemony!"

……

Forty-five minutes later, at the Shanghai Longhua Road Command Headquarters, in the underground operations room.

The telegraph machine emitted a crisp, rapid ticking sound.

Su Guiying grabbed the newly translated telegram, abandoning her usual composure, and practically ran to Chen Zijun, her voice trembling with extreme excitement:

"Young Marshal! Great news! A tremendous victory!"

"Heinrich has sent a telegram! The Third Fleet of the Japanese Imperial Combined Fleet, en route south, has been completely annihilated, except for its flagship, Kongo, which was severely damaged by two torpedoes and is barely clinging to life. The remaining ten ships, including two heavy cruisers and eight destroyers, have been destroyed!"

"Our submarine squadron suffered no casualties and has completely submerged into deep waters, disengaging from the battlefield!"

A deathly silence fell over the operations room for a moment, followed by a deafening roar of cheers. All the simulation staff, communications soldiers, and even the guards at the door embraced each other in excitement.

Chen Zijun stood quietly in front of the sand table, listening to the cheers around him, and a satisfied smile finally appeared on his cold and hard face.

He casually swept the red warship model representing the Third Fleet of Japan off the table and smashed it onto the floor.

With a "crack," the model shattered into pieces.

"Announcement to the entire army, to the four provinces of Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Shanghai, Anhui, and Jiangxi, and to the whole country: From today onwards, maritime power in the East China Sea will be under the control of our Chen family army!"

Chen Zijun's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of dominance: "Anyone who dares to extend their claws, I'll chop them off and feed them to the fish!"

"Young Marshal, you are mighty!" the crowd shouted in unison.