September 29th, at sea.
"This damn fog is finally going to dissipate."
On the deck of the first-class battleship USS Conqueror, Lieutenant Missouri lowered his binoculars and smiled.
The commander-in-chief, General Mike, was standing with his back to him, gazing into the distance from the railing.
The smoke from the cigar between his fingers was quickly dispersed by the sea breeze. He spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice relaxed:
"The improved weather will allow our strategic deployment to proceed more smoothly. Those Yan people would never have imagined that we would choose this time to launch our final offensive."
Missouri laughed and chimed in, "In fact, they've already started to back down, as evidenced by the small-scale naval battles of the past few months."
"General Hansen also specifically mentioned that in the past month, they have been continuously withdrawing warships, clearly intending to shrink the battle line to the coastal waters."
Mike adjusted his sunglasses: "Yes. Although I was surprised that they possessed steam warships, through these few months of small-scale contact, their actual combat strength is not that strong."
Now that the warships are withdrawing, the coastline will undoubtedly become their primary defensive focus.
At this point, a hint of seriousness flashed in Mike's eyes: "Breaking through the sea defenses will not be difficult, but the subsequent landing operation... will definitely be a tough battle."
Missouri's expression gradually turned serious, and she said in a deep voice, "A certain degree of sacrifice is necessary."
"But as long as we land successfully, it will all be worth it."
Mike nodded slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips, and said slowly:
"However, the preparations over the past few months have been effective."
"The troops that carried out the landing operation were prepared to sacrifice themselves."
Missouri's solemn expression relaxed slightly as she looked at Mike and said, "But the fighting strength of those slaves is probably not enough."
"Their training time is still too short."
Mike didn't seem to care and said casually:
"So what?"
"Heh." He chuckled lightly. "The training time may be short, but the promise of freedom is enough to make them fight tooth and nail."
"Even if they are all killed, we still have our elite troops behind them."
"You know, those Marine boys have been going crazy waiting for months."
"They crave glory, women, land, and gold, and I believe they can get what they want here, haha."
Missouri hummed in agreement, but then changed the subject, saying, "Commander, don't you think it's too much of a coincidence that Finks fell ill at this critical juncture?"
Mike took off his sunglasses, seemingly unconcerned.
"Whether it's true or false, it's irrelevant to the overall situation. Now that he has handed over all the intelligence, whether he participates in the war or not is no longer important."
"However, once we establish a base in Yan Kingdom, he might have some other uses."
Missouri still had some doubts: "I'm just worried that this might become a hidden danger?"
Mike laughed heartily, then turned to his head and said, "God, what are you thinking?"
"Although he was given the position of Colonel Finks, his power was very limited. Since he wanted to stay on the island to 'recuperate,' let him stay there."
As he spoke, Mike looked around.
On the sea, dozens of large warships are sailing, and without exception, they all use the most advanced steam technology at present, and their ammunition magazines are already full of ammunition.
Now all that remains is for a war to begin to prove their power.
This special military operation had been planned for more than a year, and the number of troops and resources used was unprecedented.
This operation should have been carried out several months ago.
However, after crossing the sea several months ago, the enemy's fleet exceeded expectations, so the operation had to be postponed.
In the following months, through several small-scale encounters, a good amount of information was gathered.
We also have a clearer assessment of the enemy's combat strength.
Now, with the arrival of the Third Fleet, preparations have been made sufficiently, and the battle is about to begin.
"Looks like tomorrow will be a good day," Missouri joked, looking up at the now clear sky.
"We can get a good night's sleep tonight, but we'll have to spend the rest of the night in the midst of gunfire."
Mike turned and walked toward the cabin, smiling as he said, "Who isn't? But at least we're the ones in control."
"As for the Yan people... when our fleet enters our coastal waters tomorrow, their expressions will surely be quite interesting, haha."
Missouri followed and smiled in agreement.
As he descended the deck, Mike took off his hat: "Let me reiterate, the party is over. Pre-battle drunkenness and fighting will be dealt with according to military law."
"Let's save our big boys' energy for tomorrow's battle, hahaha."
——
"Damn it, my heart is pounding like crazy."
Yan Kingdom, Nanze City Foreign Affairs Building.
As Lucate walked up the stairs, he loosened the collar of his shirt and whispered to Leto beside him.
Leto lowered his voice and asked, "Are you nervous about the dinner party later?"
Lucate squinted, a hint of seriousness flashing in his eyes: "Yes, I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen."
Upon hearing this, Leto's heart skipped a beat, and he frowned, saying:
"We've prepared gifts for three whole ships this time, including more than a dozen boxes of gold. And since we arrived, the Yan people have been quite friendly to us. I hope they won't suddenly turn on us."
Lucate rolled his eyes and corrected him with a serious expression: "I'll say it again, that's not a gift."
"That's tribute! Do you understand?!"
Leto awkwardly touched his face and stammered, "Marshal, if we call it tribute, wouldn't that be an insult to our..."
Before he could finish speaking, Lucat interrupted him impatiently:
"His Majesty personally instructed me to make sure these tributes are delivered to the Yan Kingdom."
Leto argued quietly, "That's not what the documents I received said; they clearly stated 'gift'."
Lucate paused, giving Leto a fierce, disappointed look.
"His Majesty is a respectable man. Of course, he has to give such instructions."
"But one thing at a time."
"Domestically, you could say it's a gift given to a friendly country."
“But it has already been delivered, so here it is a tribute.”
Leto thought for a moment, then nodded silently and muttered, "Then this tribute is quite generous. What are you still worried about?"
"The Yan people have been behaving strangely lately." Lucate covered his mouth, lowering his voice even further:
“Those metal wagons transported supplies day and night, and the shells were being transported to who-knows-where. This was absolutely not normal.”
Upon hearing this, Leto breathed a sigh of relief: "Marshal, you're confused."
"We were invited here because they said they were going to hold a military parade, so of course we had to..."
“No!” Lucate shook his head seriously: “It’s not that simple. This is definitely not an ordinary military parade.”
"Hmm...you know, my intuition is usually very accurate..."
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