At the Palace of Versailles, while a number of would-be allies had backed down, the Japanese government still insisted on honoring its commitment. Napoleon IV was deeply moved and, in a rare gesture, elevated France’s diplomatic relationship with Japan. Tangible rewards were, of course, part of the deal. The French government needed to set an example to show that cooperation came with benefits, in hopes of attracting more partners and reversing its political disadvantage. Due to the war, France was no longer wealthy, but even a starving camel is bigger than a horse. Even a small token from France would be a considerable gain for Japan. Moreover, in this world, there was something even more valuable than money—technology. Even in this era when technology transfer wasn’t tightly controlled, it was still extremely difficult for Asian nations to acquire advanced know-how. The challenges went beyond just communication. Even when someone was willing to sell, buyers needed the ability to distinguish real from fake and a wallet thick enough to pay. Looking back at the history of Japan’s industrialization during the Meiji Restoration, it was also a history of the Japanese government repeatedly being tricked and exploited. Many technologies and machines imported from abroad turned out to be incompatible with Japan’s conditions. Perhaps it was these early setbacks and missteps that later fueled Japan’s determination to rely on itself, to catch up and eventually erase the gap. Now that they had finally established a direct connection with a European great power, the Japanese were not about to waste this opportunity. Unaware of the grand plans forming back home, Japan’s ambassador in Paris, Honda Ichirō, was proudly negotiating a treaty with the French. Emblazoned on the cover were the words “Franco-Japanese Technical Assistance Treaty.” The treaty included over a thousand items of civilian and military technologies, covering nearly all common technologies available on the market. In theory, if Japan successfully imported and absorbed this knowledge, it could leap from a backward state to a third-rate industrial nation. This could shorten its industrialization timeline by at least a decade. As for the more advanced technologies, Japan, still far from completing industrialization, wasn’t qualified to even look at them. Without a strong foundation in basic industries, advanced tech would be useless even if handed over. Unfortunately, reality was harsh. This seemingly vital treaty for Japan would most likely remain unfulfilled. The French were not philanthropists, and this so-called technical assistance was conditional and it would only be granted after Japan declared war on Austria. How much would actually be delivered would depend entirely on the Japanese military’s performance on the battlefield. … The sea was deep blue, the sky vast and hazy. The setting sun revealed only half its face, casting a streak of evening glow like a colorful veil that dyed the seawater a shimmering golden hue. As daylight gradually faded and the engines of ships began to roar, the once quiet harbor stirred back to life. A group of ragged laborers stood up one after another, gazing into the distance with eyes full of hope. Work at the docks was never easy, it was physically demanding and unreliable. Even in the bustling island of Luzon, there was no guarantee of steady employment. During peak times, over a hundred merchant ships could pass through in a single day, leaving endless work to be done. But during slow periods, the docks might remain idle for ten or fifteen days at a stretch. Due to the war, trade routes across Southeast Asia had also grown sluggish. Independent merchant ships no longer dared to set sail so freely. Austria and France had taken to using pirate tactics in the region. It had reached the point where they’d rather mistakenly attack than accidentally let a ship pass. Real pirates might just take the cargo and spare lives. But these pseudo-pirates often left no survivors and sank the entire vessel. With no evidence left behind, no one could hold the two major powers accountable, and so the blame always fell on the so-called pirates. Nowadays, anyone attempting trade in Southeast Asia travels only in large fleets. These were often escorted by warships from neutral nations to ensure safe passage. Under these conditions, even the once-thriving island of Luzon had fallen into decline. With fewer ships passing through, life had grown much harder for dockworkers. Judging by their clothing, most of the laborers appeared to be of mixed heritage, followed by ethnic Chinese, then Japanese, and a few whites scattered among them. This was consistent with the situation on Luzon Island. The Spanish had ruled here for centuries, but civilization was still mostly confined to the cities, while the native population largely remained in a tribal stage. And since they lived in tribes, no one expected them to come out looking for work. After all, the wild plants and fruits around were enough to fill their stomachs. There was simply no need to put in effort. Everywhere had its own circles, and even a small dock was no exception. Even among those at the bottom of society, there were still distinctions in status. One could tell just by looking at their clothes. This was Spanish territory, so whites naturally held the highest status. Even those who worked at the docks mostly occupied supervisory roles. Very few of them did hard labor. The rest were more or less on the same level. When there was plenty of work, people could be friends. When work was scarce, they became rivals. Behind the scenes, conflicts among the different groups were common. Luzon’s prosperity rested on its ports. The Spanish never seriously developed the local economy, so job opportunities were limited. Compared to working in mines or on plantations, life at the docks was less stable but generally better paid. Anyone standing here was a victor in the struggle. That meant they had to feed not only themselves but also the gang leaders behind them. The ship drew closer, and its hull gradually came into view. A middle-aged man let out a sigh and said, “Stop staring. That’s a Japanese warship. There’s no work for us.” For dockworkers, the most important thing was having a good eye. They had to judge accurately which jobs were worth fighting over and which ones could be taken. Like now. A Japanese warship had arrived, which meant little to no work. Even if it docked for resupply, priority would go to Japanese-descended laborers. The same applied to merchant ships. In these times, Asians were the disadvantaged group in overseas work. To survive, they had to stick together. Clan ties, hometown connections, and gang affiliations were all essential. The eager young man stepped back into place and replied helplessly, “Got it, Uncle Liu. We haven’t had much work this month, and we still have to pay dues to the gang. I don’t know how long we can keep going like this. If it continues, we’ll be left with nothing but the northwest wind to drink.” People sat on the ground in small groups. Someone pulled out some opium and began to smoke, letting the swirling fumes numb their senses, using it as an escape from the harsh reality. Seeing this, the middle-aged man frowned and snapped impatiently, “Deng Mazi, put that opium away. Is this the time to be smoking that stuff? If you don’t start saving your money, what are you going to eat later?” With that, the man gave him a kick. These days, most dock workers are single men with no family to feed. The work was hard and exhausting, and smoking opium had become common. Although Spain was a signatory to international anti-opium treaties, that was mostly due to public pressure or to show deference to Austria. They had never seriously enforced the policy. So far, only a few European countries had fully implemented opium bans, and Austria was the only one to push the movement in its colonies. The Austrian government’s unlimited accountability law meant that anyone caught dealing drugs would be executed on the spot, regardless of time or place. This terrified opium traffickers around the world and finally curbed the rampant spread of narcotics. But it only curbed the surface. Underground trafficking still existed. It was just that Austria’s enforcement was so brutal that drug dealing had become the most dangerous profession in the world. The middle-aged man had once been in that business too. But after starting a family, with mouths to feed, he forced himself to quit. Thanks to his resolve and steady character, he caught the attention of a fellow clansman in the gang and was promoted to a small-time dock supervisor. In a way, he was one of the beneficiaries of Austria’s anti-opium campaign. Since its founding, the province of Lanfang has become the central hub for Chinese communities in Southeast Asia. In these times, safe havens were few. Every now and then, the colonizers would stir up anti-Chinese riots to seize their wealth. Externally, the Province of Lanfang flew the Austrian flag, so there was no need to fear foreign threats. Internally, it operated with provincial autonomy and, under Austrian influence, had even adopted rule of law. Regardless of how those laws were written, at the very least there were rules in place. Personal safety was not a concern. With such a secure investment environment, Chinese capital, always lacking a sense of security, poured in and directly fueled the economic growth of Lanfang. By this stage, nearly all the major Chinese clans of Southeast Asia had relocated their strongholds to Borneo. Although it was an autonomous province, the Chinese population still held a natural reverence for imperial authority. When the emperor decreed an opium ban, the local government had no courage to oppose it. Driven by the efforts of reform-minded figures and supported by the Austrian Navy’s crackdowns on opium-carrying ships, Lanfang’s anti-opium campaign proved quite successful. Opium sellers were executed by firing squad, and users were forcibly sent to rehabilitation centers. No matter one’s status or background, forced detox was unavoidable. This included gang leaders. Southeast Asia’s largest triad, the Hongmen, was essentially controlled by a handful of powerful families. When the leadership gave up opium, the lower ranks naturally followed. Moreover, the anti-opium movement was not just about enforcement. It was accompanied by widespread public education and propaganda. By now, society had grown accustomed to despising opium users, much like how later generations rejected drug addicts. Good advice often falls on deaf ears. Seeing that his warning was ignored, the middle-aged man frowned and simply turned away. He did not want to see any more. “Don’t follow his example. If he keeps this up, he’ll end up dead in the street. As for the dues, I’ll speak with the gang. We’re all from the same hometown. The brotherhood won’t let you starve.” At this point, the Hongmen was not just a triad. It also acted as a kind of hometown association. The various Hongmen chapters across the region did not strictly control one another. They simply operated under a shared banner. This gave the organization multiple roles. In addition to collecting protection fees, it also took on community support duties, such as helping newcomers from China settle, find work, and adapt to life in Southeast Asia. … Warships are not like merchant vessels. To dock, they must first secure permission. Clearly, this Japanese fleet had arrived uninvited. Communications were useless. Although the Spanish Empire had long been in decline, it still did not take the Japanese seriously. There was no way they would allow the Japanese to use their port as a staging ground. Even pressure from Britain and France wouldn’t work. The situation on the European front was becoming increasingly clear. The fact that Spain hadn’t kicked France while it was down was already a courtesy. There was no chance they would suddenly support the French. When negotiations stalled, Fleet Commander Itō Sukeyuki gave a cold order, “Send the prepared gift to the Spaniards. Tell them we’re only stopping to purchase some supplies. We won’t stay long, and we’ll leave before nightfall. Assure them we won’t cause any trouble.” But leaving before nightfall was never part of the plan. Itō had chosen this timing deliberately. Once the ships docked, delays would be inevitable until night set in. Spain had been entrenched on Luzon for quite some time. While the island’s coastal artillery was outdated, its firepower could not be ignored. If they attempted a direct assault, the Japanese forces would suffer heavy casualties. As for the Spanish Philippine fleet, it was composed mostly of obsolete sailing ships and two aging ironclads. Itō didn’t consider them a real threat. Given Japan’s limited resources, this war needed to be quick and decisive. Luzon was the heart of the Philippines. If they could seize it, the rest would follow easily. Money can move mountains. How much more so for a short docking and resupply? Japan had entered Southeast Asia under the pretext of combating piracy. On the surface, their move appeared directed at Austria. The Spanish failed to sense any real danger. Deep down, they had never seen the Japanese as a threat. Even though the scale of the Japanese fleet seemed excessive, the Spaniards still assumed Japan wouldn’t dare challenge them. They had simply grown too complacent after years of peace and had lost their sense of danger. Onshore, Japanese ronin were beginning to gather in small groups at local taverns. This wasn’t unusual as drinking in the evening seemed to be a Japanese custom. But anyone observant would have noticed something different this time. These men were visibly tense, their eyes filled with murderous intent, as if they had been injected with adrenaline. … “Some of us have been here for over ten years. Others arrived just last month. But all of us came here for the same reason and that is to help the Empire seize Southeast Asia and drive out the white invaders. Tonight, our chance has come. The fleet is waiting offshore, and we’ll launch the full-scale assault this evening. Our mission is to strike before the battle begins, take the Governor’s Palace and City Hall, and throw the enemy’s command structure into chaos. There’s no time to waste. Begin distributing the weapons now…”
*** https://postimg.cc/gallery/PwXsBkC (Maps of the current territories of the countries in this novel made by ScH) Support the translation and read more chapters at https://ko-fi.com/dragonlegion
[Previous | Table of Contents | Next]
Comments
Post a Comment