Ishiwara Kanji dictated a document. Having not slept for several days and nights, he no longer had the strength to hold a pen. After finishing the dictation and adding a few supplementary points, his subordinates hurried off to execute the orders.

After an hour of busy work, the subordinates rushed back to report the latest progress, only to find Ishiwara sitting bolt upright in his chair. A strip of cloth was wound several times around his chest and the back of the chair, securing his drooping head and body to the seat. Someone had covered his legs with a blanket, and he sat there motionless, his head hanging low. This sight terrified his subordinates, who hurriedly stepped forward to call him.

After calling out for quite a while, Ishiwara finally opened his eyes and asked groggily, "Did you send the documents out?"

The subordinates knew Ishiwara had barely rested in days. Seeing that he hadn't unexpectedly passed away but had simply fallen asleep, they quickly replied, "Report, Commander, the documents have been sent. Lieutenant Colonel Okamura is on the dedicated line."

Ishiwara looked up at the desk clock but couldn't see it clearly. He rubbed his sore eyes and looked again, finally realizing it was approaching 3:00 AM. He had slept for over an hour. Ishiwara immediately tried to stand up, forgetting the cloth strip that secured him to the chair. He lifted the chair up with him, lost his balance, and sat back down heavily. The center of gravity shifted, and he nearly fell over, chair and all.

Fortunately, several subordinates immediately supported him and untied the cloth. Ishiwara didn't waste time talking and hurried to answer the phone.

This was a call routed through dozens of switching stations, with the handsets separated by hundreds of kilometers. The sound quality was extremely poor and hard to hear. Yet, the fatigue in Okamura Yasuji's voice on the other end could still be felt through the receiver.

"Ishiwara-kun, the tactical arrangements targeting the Northeast Army have been transferred to Nagata-kun. Leave the work of proposing the new operation manual to me for now."

Ishiwara knew Okamura was also working desperately, but he hadn't expected a reply at 3:00 AM to something sent after 1:00 AM. He advised, "Okamura-kun, you should also take some time to rest. I am very worried that if everyone lacks energy, we won't be able to handle the upcoming battles."

Okamura seemed to hum in agreement but said, "Ishiwara-kun, the preparations for the subsequent positions are complete... we..."

The static on the line became loud, and Okamura's voice became unintelligible. Ishiwara simply hung up; this had happened many times, and he was used to it. He turned and told the orderly, "Inform Matsushita-kun of the artillery again. The shelling must begin at 4:00 AM; the plan has already been given to him. I'm going to sleep for a while. You must wake me at 6:00 AM."

The orderly was working a normal shift and hadn't slept simply because it was his turn for night duty. He quickly noted this down and stood at attention to salute.

Ishiwara felt like he had been lying on the bed for perhaps a minute, or maybe just a few seconds. In any case, when his body was shaken to the point of being unbearable, he heard someone shouting continuously, "Lieutenant Colonel, it's six o'clock! It's already six o'clock!"

Even with such brief sleep, after Ishiwara struggled to sit up, he soon felt that the energy he thought had vanished had surprisingly returned. After a moment of thought, Ishiwara asked, "What about the shelling?"

"The shelling was completed at 4:00 AM," the orderly replied quickly.

"Did the enemy counterattack?"

"Report, Lieutenant Colonel, the enemy's counterattack didn't last long. Up to now, they haven't launched an offensive."

Ishiwara felt that perhaps his surprise night artillery strike had played some role; otherwise, the Northeast Army might have already launched an attack. Of course, this didn't rule out another possibility: the Northeast Army hadn't considered a night attack at all and planned to start their offensive only after broad daylight.

After all, Ishiwara had only stayed in Pyongyang and was already busy day and night, barely able to sleep. The main force of the Northeast Army had run 400 kilometers in four days. If the winding mountain roads were calculated, saying 600 kilometers wouldn't be an exaggeration. Both warring sides were equally exhausted.

Even if both sides were fully rested, the pressure on the Japanese army was greater. Ishiwara still hoped this battle could start as late as possible.

Time passed minute by minute. By 6:30 AM, there was still no movement from the Northeast Army. In Tokyo, Japan, Army Minister Tanaka Giichi had already convened a morning meeting. Because the Ministry of War and the General Staff Headquarters had taken on a large amount of specific work, Tanaka Giichi was finally able to sleep for a few hours each day. Even so, the Army Minister had heavy dark circles under his eyes. As soon as the meeting started, Tanaka lit a cigarette to perk himself up.

After taking a few puffs, Tanaka finally had some spirit. "Gentlemen, the Empire has been subjected to a despicable and shameless sneak attack by He Rui, and the Army has lost tens of thousands of elites. Although the Ministry of War has deeply apologized to the nationals, it has not been able to completely calm public sentiment. *Asahi Shimbun* and other newspapers have been discussing this defeat. What are your views on this?"

Hearing this, Lieutenant Colonel Ikeda, who was responsible for liaison with the press, realized why he had been called to attend the meeting presided over by General Tanaka. Ikeda quickly stood up and presented the solution he had already considered. "Excellency, although the Army suffered heavy losses in the enemy's sneak attack, the Army Department reacted quickly and dispatched elite officers to Korea. The situation in Seoul and Pyongyang has now been stabilized. Yesterday, we received a battle report that the enemy attacked Pyongyang but was thoroughly defeated by our army, leaving behind over two hundred corpses and losing more than two companies. If we quickly pass this news to the press, the public will know that our army has begun to counterattack. If we can let the public know more about the activities of our army's elite officers in the war, it will strengthen the nationals' confidence in winning this war."

Tanaka Giichi felt this was the best method that could be adopted. The elite officers Lieutenant Colonel Ikeda mentioned referred to Nagata Tetsuzan and Okamura Yasuji, whom Tanaka had sent to Korea.

Okamura Yasuji was diligent and serious, an officer with a good reputation, but who the Army Department really favored was Nagata Tetsuzan. So many senior generals felt that Nagata's ability and magnanimity meant he would inevitably be the leader of the next generation of Japanese Army officers. And up to now, Nagata's performance had indeed been remarkable.

It was one thing to assign Okamura Yasuji as Nagata's adjutant, but Nagata had specifically gone to the Army War College to ask Ishiwara Kanji to come out and help. Although Ishiwara was a thorn in the side, he was intelligent and brave. Going to Pyongyang alone, he had not only gathered all the Japanese armed personnel, government staff, and Japanese expatriates in the vast area north of Pyongyang and sent them to Seoul, but he had also constructed a defense system in Pyongyang that held off over a hundred thousand Northeast Army troops.

Tanaka knew very well that this was a rearguard action by a 'trapped unit' and that the entire force might very well be wiped out. Nagata had the eye to recognize talent and the magnanimity to use it. He was indeed the future of the Imperial Army.

Even Ishiwara Kanji's image in Tanaka's mind had changed. The general reputation of being a troublemaker showed Ishiwara had personality, and graduating second in his class at the Army War College proved his strength. In fact, the distinction between first and second place often weighed more on leadership among officers. In terms of pure ability, the second place was not necessarily inferior to the first.

Nagata was also a second-place graduate, and Ishiwara was no worse than Nagata.

Thinking of this, Tanaka ordered, "Lieutenant Colonel Ikeda, go and handle this now."

"Yes." Lieutenant Colonel Ikeda stood up, saluted, and hurried off to work. At this moment, Ikeda was thinking of the female reporter named Morita Mitsuko at the *Asahi Shimbun*. Everyone was well aware of her relationship with He Rui. He wondered if this female reporter had been temporarily suspended during his visit to the *Asahi Shimbun*.

After Ikeda left, Tanaka lit another cigarette, his expression turning grim. The meeting naturally had a clear purpose. In this meeting, Ikeda was responsible for the public-facing work, so he had to be dismissed quickly after receiving his instructions. The officers remaining here were mostly related to departments like the Kempeitai (Military Police).

The atmosphere in the conference room turned gloomy along with Tanaka's expression. Soon, an adjutant brought a stack of papers to Tanaka. Tanaka nodded, and the adjutant distributed them to the officers. Everyone took a look and saw it was a list, mostly containing names of commoner MPs, with a few names of noble peers listed as well.

Tanaka's voice was icy. "These MPs usually use their public office for private gain and plot to seize public funds by every possible means. They bear the main responsibility for the chaos in Imperial politics. Now, winning the war is the Empire's urgent priority; we must pull together and unite as one. Yet these MPs dare to question and criticize the Cabinet Ministers. I truly don't know what kind of intentions they harbor. Your task is to visit these MPs one by one and make them understand that He Rui knows the Empire inside and out. He certainly knows that the MPs are likely to be ignorant of the bigger picture and act as his accomplices. Although the Army does not believe that some MPs are taking orders from He Rui to deliberately disrupt the situation, this matter cannot be left unguarded."

The officers nodded slightly, but no one replied. After all, threatening MPs—wasn't such a method too crude and violent? many MPs were also tough characters. If they really didn't listen, were they supposed to invite these MPs to the Kempeitai?

Tanaka smiled coldly. "Gentlemen, the adjacent office contains evidence of those MPs abusing power for personal gain and embezzling public funds. Everyone, go over there in a moment. Once you decide which MP you are going to see, take that evidence with you. We must make those MPs who don't understand the big picture realize that the Army is willing to unite in good faith to tide over the difficulties."

Hearing this, the attending officers gained confidence. After the assassination of the previous Prime Minister Hara Takashi, Takahashi Korekiyo, also from the Seiyukai (Friends of Constitutional Government Party), succeeded as Prime Minister. The Takahashi Cabinet only lasted half a year before collapsing because the Seiyukai MPs' abuse of power for personal gain was exposed. As long as they held blackmail material on the MPs, there was no fear of them not submitting.

Seeing no objections, Tanaka ordered decisively, "Dismissed!"

After these officers left, the second round of meetings began. The attendees this time were officers involved in military matters. The Army and Navy had already produced a complete troop transport plan, which was to be finalized at this meeting.

The Japanese Army had 21 divisions. The Kwantung Army was completely finished, and the main forces of the two divisions stationed in Korea had been basically annihilated. Of the remaining eighteen divisions, six were fully equipped and manned. In this plan, priority was given to transporting these six divisions to Korea to fight the Northeast Army.

The schedule for the troop transport plan was densely packed. It was no longer calculated by days, nor by morning, afternoon, or evening. From start to finish, this plan was calculated by the hour, and some parts were calculated by the quarter-hour, that is, 15 minutes.

The summary of such a detailed plan was that for Japan to transport two fully equipped and manned divisions from Japan to Seoul, it would take 30 days. Of course, if the infantry just carried a rifle and two base loads of ammunition and boarded the ships, rocked about on the sea for a day or days, landed dizzily, and then took a train to Seoul on empty stomachs, two divisions would only need a week. And now, 5 days had already passed since October 10th. The work could be completed in two more days.

However, such an army would have almost no combat effectiveness when it reached the front line. They had to be fully equipped, bringing all heavy equipment. After arriving in Korea, they would rest and reorganize for a few days. Officers of all units needed to understand the basic terrain of Korea, study the maps of the areas where their units would operate, and the division staff also had to discuss operations and make combat preparations.

Calculated this way, 30 days was already tight in the extreme, and there was really no way to reduce it.

The attacker always held a huge advantage because they only started to move after making comprehensive preparations, naturally seizing the initiative.

This kind of discussion might seem boring to those outside the military, but to professional officers, every number and every minute had its significance and absolutely no sloppiness could be allowed.

At this time, the Northeast Army, as the attacker, was also preparing, racing against time. The fact that yesterday's probing attack was resisted by the enemy was indeed beyond the expectations of the Northeast Army's 8th Army.

The troops had been making full preparations against the Japanese army for several years. Although the troops didn't only target Japanese tactics—most of the time was spent perfecting the Northeast Army's own tactical applications—encountering a Japanese commander who knew how to be flexible so quickly was also unexpected.

Especially the Japanese commander in Pyongyang's night artillery attack; it had indeed hit the Northeast Army's night artillery assembly area, causing some casualties and equipment loss. After a careful investigation, the Northeast Army's 8th Army determined that the movement of the artillery positions had not been discovered.

Then, this Japanese commander of the Pyongyang garrison named Ishiwara Kanji was one of the few excellent commanders pointed out in the pre-plans who knew how to be flexible and had a deep understanding of war.

Since this was the case, the 8th Army didn't stubbornly throw themselves at him. Instead, they adjusted the subsequent operations according to the previous plans.

By 10:00 AM on the 15th, the Japanese garrison in Pyongyang remained completely silent, except for using machine guns and rifle volleys to drive away the Northeast Army Air Force reconnaissance planes. Facing such a composed opponent, Zhou Zaixing, Commander of the 8th Army, received news that all units had completed their redeployment and decisively ordered, "Commence the attack!"

At the new artillery positions, the corps-level artillery began firing. Shells fell like meteors on the Japanese positions outside Pyongyang, beginning a fierce destruction.