Warlords: Rising from the Northwest Border and Sweeping Across the Powers

Chapter 498 The Miserable Fujiwara Mitsuyama

This air raid, carefully planned by the Bay Island Corps, ended in the complete defeat of the Bay Island Corps.

In most air strikes, passively relying on air defense means to counterattack is often seen as a helpless move. This is because this method can only wait for the enemy to arrive, but cannot take the initiative to attack and disrupt the enemy's attack plan. In contrast, dispatching the air force to intercept in advance can effectively strike the enemy before it launches an attack, thereby greatly reducing losses and improving combat efficiency.

However, during this air raid, Yang Yi chose to trust the air defense system of the base and did not immediately notify the air force to intercept. He had absolute confidence in the air defense capabilities of this small logistics base. Although the base was small in scale, its dense air defense firepower and solid air defense fortifications were enough to be amazing.

In a dimly lit command room at the Wannan Air Force Base, Fujiwara Mitsuyama, the commander of the Kamikaze Air Wing, was sitting alone in the familiar command chair. His face was pale, and his eyes were filled with undisguised disappointment and despair. When the news of the annihilation of the air raid flight formation came, he seemed to have lost all his strength, like a deflated ball, and sat powerlessly in the chair.

Before the air raid began, Fujiwara Mitsuyama was still full of confidence. He believed that with careful planning and a strong air force, this operation would definitely cause great trouble to China. He even painted a picture of victory in his mind, imagining how the morale of the Fuso army would be high and how China's defense would collapse after the air raid was successful.

However, reality gave him a blow. The air defense system of the Chinese logistics base was even more terrifying than he had imagined. The dense air defense firepower network was like an insurmountable barrier, shooting down their fighter planes one by one. And those solid air defense fortifications made them frequently blocked in their attacks and unable to get close to the target.

What shocked Fujiwara Mitsuyama even more was that the strength of the Chinese Air Force was far beyond his expectations. They had a large number of fighter planes with advanced performance, well-trained pilots, and flexible tactics. In the air battle, they shot down Fuso's fighter planes one by one with their outstanding combat effectiveness and coordinated combat capabilities, putting Fujiwara Mitsuyama and his troops in a desperate situation.

At this moment, Fujiwara Mitsuyama was filled with regret and self-blame. He understood that the failure of this air raid was not only his personal failure, but also the complete failure of the entire Fuso army in the battle with China. Whether at sea, on land or in the air, they were already at a complete disadvantage.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart, but the heavy feeling of failure was like a huge rock pressing on his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

Ding-ling-ling, the phone on the desk rang sharply, breaking the silence in the room. Fujiwara Mitsuyama's heart tightened, he hesitated for a moment, and finally picked up the phone.

On the other end of the line, Matsui Iwane's angry voice came like a storm: "Baga! You bastard! You are a disgrace to the Fuso Empire Air Force! Such a perfect air strike plan actually failed! The air wing also suffered heavy losses! I give you one hour, come to the headquarters to see me immediately, you idiot!"

Every word pierced Fujiwara Mitsuyama's heart like a needle. His face turned pale and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He knew that this failure was intolerable for Matsui Iwane and was also a huge blow to the entire Fuso Empire Air Force.

Facing Matsui Iwane's anger and abuse, Fujiwara Mitsuyama didn't even have the courage to refute. He lowered his head and repeated in a trembling voice: "Ha! It's my incompetence that has brought shame to the empire!"

His heart was filled with regret and self-blame. He knew that the responsibility for the failure lay with himself. He had not been able to lead the troops well and had not been able to formulate a more thorough plan.

Half an hour later, Fujiwara Mitsuyama arrived at the headquarters with a nervous mood. He stood in front of Matsui Iwane's office and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his inner tension.

He pushed the door open and walked in. He saw Matsui Iwane sitting behind his desk, his face livid and his eyes blazing. When he saw Fujiwara Mitsuyama coming in, he immediately stood up, picked up a military belt from the table, and strode towards Fujiwara Mitsuyama.

Fujiwara Mitsuyama's heart suddenly rose to his throat, and he instinctively wanted to retreat, but his legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead. Matsui Iwane walked up to him, grabbed his collar, and threw him to the ground.

Then, Matsui Iwane swung the belt and whipped Fujiwara Mitsuyama. The buckle of the belt kept hitting Fujiwara Mitsuyama's body, making a dull sound. Fujiwara Mitsuyama screamed and rolled on the ground, trying to avoid Matsui Iwane's belt.

However, Matsui Iwane did not seem to intend to stop. He beat Fujiwara Mitsuyama harder and harder until his body was covered with scars and he was almost half dead.

Finally, ten minutes later, Matsui Iwane vented his anger. He panted, threw his belt on the ground, looked at Fujiwara Mitsuyama coldly, then turned around and sat back at his desk.

Fujiwara Mitsuyama lay on the ground, groaning in pain. He had no strength left in his body, and could only let the pain attack his nerves.

However, Fujiwara Mitsuyama had no idea of ​​the even more tragic fate that was about to come. The news of the defeat of the Wandao Army Air Force Wing spread like wildfire, not only throughout the Wandao, but also across the ocean and back to the mainland of Fuso.

In Fuso Kyoto, Cabinet Minister Taro Suzuki stopped at the door of an elegant courtyard located by the river in Fura District. The courtyard is quiet, shaded by bamboo forests and gurgling water, giving it a sense of paradise. Suzuki Taro straightened his suit and rang the doorbell.

After a while, there was a sound of footsteps in the courtyard, and then a woman in kimono appeared at the door. Although she was not wearing any makeup, she had a fresh and refined temperament, and was breathtakingly beautiful. There was a hint of surprise in her eyes: "Mr. Suzuki! Why are you here?"

This woman is Nishiwa Michiko, the wife of Fujiwara Mitsuyama. She usually stays at home and rarely contacts the outside world, so she doesn't know much about her husband's situation at the front.

Suzuki Taro nodded slightly and said in a deep voice: "Wouldn't you like me to come in and have a seat? Your husband Fujiwara committed an unforgivable crime on the front line. I came here today specifically to discuss this matter with you."

As soon as he finished speaking, Nishiwa Michiko's face instantly became nervous. She knew very well that her husband Fujiwara Mitsuyama was a student of Suzuki Taro and had always been attached to his faction. Now that she heard the news that her husband had committed a serious crime on the front line, she felt a strong sense of uneasiness in her heart.

She quickly bent down and gestured, "Mr. Suzuki, please come in."

Suzuki Taro walked into the courtyard, followed by Nishi and Michiko, and the two walked through the courtyard and into the living room, one after the other. No matter how beautiful the scenery along the way was, no one was in the mood to appreciate it at this moment.

Michiko Nishiwa's heart was filled with worry and anxiety. She didn't know what crime her husband had committed, nor did she know what Taro Suzuki's trip meant.

The two sat opposite each other in the reception room. Suzuki Taro took a sip of the teacup, then put it down and briefly explained to Nishiwa Michiko the serious situation of Fujiwara Mitsuyama's defeat on the front line. His words revealed a solemn attitude, which made Nishiwa Michiko feel flustered.

Taro Suzuki carefully observed Nishiwa Michiko's expression, only to see that she was pale, and her eyes were full of worry and fear. He was secretly satisfied in his heart, knowing that he had successfully caused Nishiwa Michiko's panic. So, he slowly said: "This is the most serious defeat since the establishment of our air force. It is simply unforgivable. The emperor is furious about this matter. When Fujiwara returns to the country, if nothing unexpected happens, he will be brought to the military court. However..."

At this point, Suzuki Taro paused deliberately, staring at Nishiwa Michiko. Nishiwa Michiko felt a little scared when he looked at her, and asked hurriedly: "Mr. Suzuki, Fujiwara has always respected you very much, and he is also your disciple. You must find a way to save him!"

Suzuki Taro was waiting for this sentence. He showed a smug smile on his face, looked at Nishi and Michiko and said, "Madam, you don't want Fujiwara to be court-martialed, do you?"

His voice was low and seductive, as if pointing out a clear path for Nishi and Michiko.

Upon hearing this, Nishiwa Michiko felt flustered and nodded quickly: "Yes, of course I don't want him to go to court-martial, but...but what can I do?"

Suzuki Taro was even more satisfied when he saw this. He smiled and said, "Actually, you can do much more than you think. If you are willing, I can ask the higher authorities to reduce your husband's sentence."

Hearing this, Nishiwa Michiko's eyes flashed with hope, and she hurriedly asked, "Really? Mr. Suzuki, can you really help my husband?"

Suzuki Taro nodded and said, "Of course, but this requires you to make some sacrifices."

Nishiwa Michiko's heart tightened, but she gritted her teeth and nodded when she thought of her husband's safety. Seeing this, Suzuki Taro smiled with satisfaction.

Ten minutes later, Suzuki Taro left the courtyard contentedly, while Nishi and Michiko sat there with mixed feelings.