Two gray-painted military transport planes landed in Dhaka, the capital of British Bengal. The British officers receiving the aircraft seemed to look right through the Asian faces in the cockpit, merely directing their Indian subordinates to unload crate after crate of cargo from the cabin.

As the ground crew refueled the planes, they noticed there were no markings to identify their nationality, only patches of fresh paint that looked rather incongruous, clearly used to cover something up. After refueling, the two planes took off quickly, heading east.

By this time, the skies over Burma were already dominated by the Chinese, and Burma lay just to the east of Dhaka. The ground crew, knowing better than to ask questions, kept their silence. However, some of them had seen the latest aircraft identification charts, and these two transport planes looked suspiciously similar to those of the Chinese Air Force.

Two days later, Rear Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku, Commander of the IJN Detached Squadron, arrived at the Japanese Army headquarters in Chittagong to share a drink with Lieutenant General Ishiwara Kanji, Commander of the Japanese 15th Army. Both men wore short-sleeved shirts, yet they were still sweating profusely inside the headquarters. Fortunately, Ishiwara had an electric fan, making the summer heat of the Indian Ocean somewhat bearable.

Noticing Yamamoto's gaze fixed on the brand plate of the electric fan—which read 'Tianjin Electric Fan Manufacturing Plant' in Chinese characters—Ishiwara decided to be frank. "My subordinates tell me it's smuggled goods."

Hearing the word 'smuggled,' a look of resignation appeared on Yamamoto's face. "The British are smuggling medicine from China."

Ishiwara was not surprised. In fact, the Expeditionary Army's ground forces had also smuggled a large quantity of anti-malarial drugs from China through Mitsui channels. British India was rumored to be a major producer of cinchona bark, or quinine. Quinine hydrochloride had once been the specific remedy for malaria, but ever since China produced Artemisinin, Quinine—with its severe side effects, slow action, and high price—had quickly been replaced.

Seeing Ishiwara's indifferent expression, as if turning a blind eye to the matter, Yamamoto decided to probe Ishiwara's views further. "Ishiwara-kun, why does China export critical medicine to the British Army? Are we not currently at war?"

Ishiwara felt the question had some merit. Tropical malaria was rampant, and soldiers could easily lose their combat effectiveness en masse. Specific remedies for malaria were therefore critically important. By obtaining large quantities of cheap, effective medicine, Britain could maintain its combat strength. Thus, the general view was that the sale of such drugs to an enemy nation should be prohibited, especially to their frontline troops.

But that was merely the general view.

Ishiwara wiped the sweat from his forehead. The average daytime temperature in Chittagong in May was 32 degrees Celsius, dropping to 25 degrees at night. It wasn't exceptionally hot, but the humidity was unbearable. At least for the Japanese, it was extremely uncomfortable.

Taking a sip of green tea, Ishiwara asked, "Yamamoto-kun, you have been to the United States. You must know how vast their production capacity is."

"Mn." Yamamoto recalled the dense clusters of factories he had seen in the Great Lakes region, a sight that had left a deep impression on him.

"When an economy develops to that stage, the struggle is no longer for land, but for raw materials and sales markets. The Sino-British War is absolutely not a war for hegemony, nor is it a battle for spheres of influence. It is a war based on economics. He-kun refuses to accept the status quo of being excluded from the world trade system and is forcing Britain to negotiate with him on this matter. Since the purpose of the war is economic, what does smuggling a little medicine matter?"

Yamamoto was obsessed with military affairs and had little interest in economics. However, he could still understand what Ishiwara was saying. As a naval officer, Yamamoto's tolerance for heat was much higher than Ishiwara's. After all, during naval training, the deck of a warship could become hot enough to burn one's feet. So, instead of drinking tea to cool down, Yamamoto lit a cigarette, trying to fully grasp Ishiwara's meaning.

According to Ishiwara's analysis and the current war situation, Britain was already at a comprehensive disadvantage on the battlefield. China also had no intention of striking at Britain's core interests. Under such pressure, it was highly likely that Britain would compromise with China. More importantly, Ishiwara had clearly pinpointed China's war objectives, and these objectives did not exceed what Britain could tolerate.

Thinking about the outcome once peace was established between China and Britain, Yamamoto felt a gnawing anxiety in his heart. "Ishiwara-kun, if China and Britain negotiate peace, where does the Empire go from here?"

Ishiwara had long reached a conclusion about the future and answered with a calm tone. "In 1921, Japan sold 1.1 billion yen worth of goods to China annually. Now, Sino-Japanese trade has completely halted. Britain and Japan have renewed their alliance, and Britain has opened a portion of the Southeast Asian market to the Empire. Military supplies are also procured from the Empire's homeland. As far as I know, the increased trade volume amounts to at most 100 million yen a year. It is a drop in the bucket for the Empire. If the Empire wants a future, it must find new markets! If the market scale is too small, the Empire has no chance to develop. If the Empire cannot develop for thirty years... heh heh..."

After a cold chuckle, Ishiwara lifted his teacup and sipped his green tea again. Two years ago, when Ishiwara first reached this conclusion, he had been unable to eat or sleep for two months. Now, seeing He Rui's strategy moving step by step towards realization, Ishiwara felt strangely at peace.

Stimulated by the bleak blueprint of Japan's total sinking, Yamamoto stood up. He was a sensible man, but having never learned to view problems from an economic perspective, he paced around the headquarters a few times, unable to find a way to break the deadlock. As a naval admiral, Yamamoto knew very well that Japan's markets were limited to a few: China, the Soviet Union, Southeast Asia, and the United States.

American industry was powerful, and demand for Japanese goods was low. Southeast Asia was the forbidden preserve of Britain, an equally powerful industrial nation; how could they allow Japanese goods to be sold freely there? The Soviet Far East was sparsely populated, and relations between the Soviet Union and Japan were extremely poor, making trade volume negligible.

China had vast land, abundant resources, and a huge population. China and Japan were close neighbors, meaning low trade costs. The Chinese market should have been Japan's true reliance.

Sitting back down in his chair somewhat dejectedly, Yamamoto said helplessly, "There is a saying in China: 'Lifting a rock only to drop it on one's own foot.' If those in power after Prince Ito had maintained relations with China instead of aggressively focusing only on immediate, petty profits, how could we be in this predicament today?"

Ishiwara had heard this lament too many times. Members of the Future of Japan Society, once they truly understood the basics of 'He-ology'—that is, the basics of political economy—would all express such sentiments. And every time, Ishiwara would tell these comrades who seemed to have understood, "That is impossible! Cutting off a man's source of wealth is like killing his parents. Japan would never have given up the excess profits brought by its privileges in China."

For Yamamoto Isoroku, Ishiwara didn't bother wasting his breath. The Navy was a technical service, and the treatment of its officers and men was much higher than that of the Army. Consequently, the development of the Future of Japan Society within the Navy had not been smooth.

Yamamoto, however, wasn't thinking that far ahead. His mind was in turmoil for a while before he asked helplessly, "Ishiwara-kun, do you think His Majesty the Emperor is aware of the recent calls among the populace for the construction of a Japanese domestic market?"

"Both you and I know about it; how could His Majesty not know?" Ishiwara answered coldly. Although he looked indifferent, this matter was actually being pushed by Ishiwara and others. The Rice Riots were not a revolution; the impetus they gave to Japanese social progress stemmed from the struggle waged by the united Japanese workers and farmers in the aftermath of the riots.

The Future of Japan Society was pushing for the awakening of the Japanese people. Only when the Japanese people realized where Japan's path lay could they march towards it...

"Ishiwara-kun..." Yamamoto could no longer suppress the panic in his heart. "...I believe someone will stop this. What do you think?"

Ishiwara hoped Yamamoto would wake up sooner rather than later, so he spoke very bluntly. "Yamamoto-kun. Even if His Majesty were willing to push for the construction of a Japanese domestic market, *could* His Majesty push it?"

Yamamoto, of course, knew it couldn't be pushed. Land reform in Japan, even a redemption-style land reform, would never be accepted by the Japanese upper class. Thinking of this, Yamamoto said with hatred, "Those parasites of the nation!"