Collision (2)
The Konan Incident.
Later generations would know it better as the Otsu Incident, but this wasn’t just some simple assassination attempt.
A Japanese police officer, Tsuda Sanzo, tried to cut down the next ruler of Russia—a state guest, no less—with a sword.
This wasn’t some communist terror plot or an attack by anti-government rebels.
It was, plain and simple, an act that could be seen as the Empire of Japan attacking the Russian Empire.
And I added a little extra fuel to the fire.
“…My grandfather died like this too, didn’t he? To some blind blade or bullet.”
“Your Highness…”
“What happened to that so-called ‘will of the people’?”
“Based on the confessions of those caught at the time, they were all wiped out.”
“Right. That’s how it went.”
And the one who carried out that revenge on those reactionaries? My father.
Oh, what a perfect opportunity to channel the Tsar’s righteous fury.
On a personal and national level, if Moscow declared war tomorrow, the world would nod along, muttering, “Yup, those monkeys deserve it!” and agree.
It’s not about race—it’s the era. Both Japan and Russia are autocratic monarchies. Aside from America, every other great power bows to a king.
And yet, a police officer tried to kill the next emperor—unarmed, no less?
Even if we pinned the blame on Japan, they’d have no defense.
For a single sword scratch on my forehead, I’ve got a damn good hand to play.
“Your Highness, the Japanese are asking to board the ship to offer treatment and apologies—”
“Tell them I’ve collapsed.”
Using treatment as an excuse, I returned to the Memory of Azov cruiser and sat in the cramped cabin, thinking about the bigger picture.
Russia versus the Empire of Japan. What’s the power balance in this game?
Russia first: decades of military buildup, capable of mobilizing three million troops in a snap, with a navy ranked third in the world.
Japan, on the other hand… pre-Anglo-Japanese Alliance, no tech transfers yet, struggling to build their own cruisers.
But that’s just the surface. Most of Russia’s military might is tied up in Europe, so war here would be absurd.
Even a win wouldn’t feel like one.
Instead, threats are the play—like leaning on them over Korea or China.
“But that’s just mutual self-destruction waiting to happen.”
A Russia-Japan feud in the Far East might make those other island friends across the sea throw a kimono-clad Cossack dance party at their banquet.
That’d be a sight, but I can’t choke the empire’s neck just for a show.
So, I’m not looking to escalate this. I shouldn’t.
But that’s the rational side talking.
“We’ve gotta lean into the emotions.”
This isn’t just an attempted assassination—it’s an attack on a state guest crown prince. And who stopped it? The victim—me—and a Greek prince, while the attacker was a cop?
No country in the world would just shrug and say, “Oh well, let’s not fight over it, let’s move on!”
If they did, World War I wouldn’t have happened.
“Your Excellency, it’s the captain.”
“Admiral Lomen? Come in.”
With my permission, Nikolai Nikolaevich Lomen entered.
He’s the man leading the six ships on this world tour and responsible for my safety.
“Your Highness, are you alright…?”
“Admiral, no need to worry. Just a scratch on the forehead.”
“The doctor said if it’d been deeper, it could’ve been life-threatening.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“I heard you were staggering when you returned.”
“That was for show, to make them think I’m hurt.”
It wasn’t even that much blood, so why stagger?
I played it up as shock weakening my body and mind. Word is, Prince Takehito was freaking out to his aides, thinking I might die. Exactly the reaction I wanted.
“This incident won’t affect you, Admiral, I guarantee it.”
“My family’s all generals living in the capital. Don’t worry about me.”
Right, of course. They wouldn’t send just anyone on my world tour. Wasn’t Lomen’s father a major general or something?
“More importantly, I have a question. You’re assigning me to handle the Japanese instead of your aides…”
“Oh, that.”
My aides—the handful of guys stuck to my side on this trip, keeping me entertained, reading, and eating together.
“Probably noble or high-ranking families’ sons… but still.”
The original Nikolai’s first problem?
He’s too nice.
No, not just nice—a pushover.
So much so that he let Prince Yoriyoshi, who saved him, get framed and exiled from Russia without lifting a finger.
I get it. No friends growing up, educated alone instead of at school, and his father banned balls and festivals, nearly killing off high society. He must’ve been starving for human connection.
But the shut-in who mocked history from his room doesn’t need friends.
“They’re my age, so they’re a bit too green for a mess this big. Since it’s about my safety, shouldn’t you step up, Admiral?”
“You even added a strange request—to act furious and like we’re leaving immediately…”
“Exactly. I don’t want to look like some magnanimous saint. I want to keep this incident open for leverage.”
“Your Highness, the Far East is a delicate situation. China and Korea are in chaos, and we’ve only been here for half a century.”
“I know, I know. But that’s the rational side, isn’t it?”
Lomen’s spitting out exactly what I was just thinking.
But again, that’s pure logic talking.
“I’m the crown prince of the Russian Empire. That crown prince almost died.”
“…Do you want war?”
“Pfft, you think I’m crazy?”
“Then showing some magnanimity might not hurt our future relations in Asia.”
“Ugh, why’s it so hard to get through?”
Frustrated with Lomen’s attempts to reason, I decided to drop the noble bloodline act.
“Admiral Lomen.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I want to extort them. Got it? I want a massive compensation from the Empire of Japan.”
Get sliced by a sword and just laugh it off?
I’d fake an injury for insurance fraud before playing the fool like that.
“So, you’re telling me to go out there as your representative and squeeze money out of them—”
“Yup. Exactly.”
An imperial crown prince can’t be seen groveling for cash face-to-face. So you, the military man, go threaten them.
Throw in some war talk while you’re at it.
I know, Lomen knows, and Takehito knows—Russia’s just started laying tracks for the Trans-Siberian Railway, so we can’t send a big force to the Far East.
But, but—what if Russia did declare war?
Tensions are already high over Japan poking around in Korea.
“And you’ll be the one representing us.”
Just sit there and demand four dollars or whatever, over and over. They’ll apologize, then panic, but I think they’ll pay.
Because while I’m just a frail crown prince, my father’s a different beast.
“…So, can you do it?”
“I-I’d need to report this to St. Petersburg first—”
“Oh, come on. This happened in Otsu—why drag the capital into it?”
“…”
I don’t want to escalate this to the higher-ups. I want to settle it here. If it doesn’t end here, it won’t just get big—it’ll get catastrophically big.
Lomen stared at me, as if checking if I was serious.
I flipped the question back.
“Can you do it?”
“…Yes.”
Talking straight gets me the answer I want.
“Go scare the pants off that trembling country. What I want is written on that paper I gave you.”
“Ugh…”
Lomen tilted his head, not fully getting it, but that’s fine.
His sharp eyes under that pressed cap screamed military pedigree. He’s perfect for the job.
And in this era, a soldier’s main gig is extortion.
I had no doubt he’d succeed.
The day of the Russian crown prince’s assassination attempt.
“We’re screwed! Totally screwed!”
As Tsuda Sanzo was dragged away, Takehito, left at the scene, was trembling, at a loss.
It wasn’t just the assassination attempt.
The crown prince, who’d said he was different from his father, preaching Japan’s role in Far Eastern peace, had flipped.
Staggering, blood dripping from his head…
“He said his father was right.”
Multiple interpreters rushed to Takehito, confirming the crown prince’s last words over and over.
His father, Alexander III—who was he?
A warlord expanding Russia’s borders endlessly, a soldier to his core.
A man two heads taller than most, famous even in Russia for lifting a train roof to save his family.
The naive crown prince’s sudden change was shocking enough, but if this reached the Tsar’s ears?
“…It could lead to war.”
Takehito wasn’t well-versed in diplomacy or politics, but he’d served in the military, so he knew one thing for sure.
If Japan fought Russia, the empire would be carved up like its islands.
They sent six ironclads just for the crown prince’s tour—what if the Baltic or Black Sea fleets came?
“Oh, oh no…”
This was beyond a mere prince’s ability to handle. It was out of his hands, and maybe even the higher-ups couldn’t fix it.
All because of one idiot cop from the Moriyama police station.
“Argh, damn it!”
Why that bastard was chosen to wear a uniform and swing a sword, Takehito didn’t know, but his head hurt more than the crown prince’s.
Calming down after shouting, he saw the sword lodged in the rickshaw and realized this wasn’t the time to yell.
The crown prince didn’t go to a hotel—he went straight back to his ship.
Takehito had to find him, beg until his fingers wore out, or sob—anything to meet him.
“This can’t blow up. If it does, I won’t escape responsibility!”
It had to end with the crown prince, not escalate to Alexander III.
If that man went berserk, the incident would reach Tokyo in no time.
So he had to meet the crown prince first.
At the very least, confirm he’s okay.
But when Takehito reached Shiga Port, it wasn’t the crown prince he faced.
“Admiral, is His Highness alright?”
“He collapsed as soon as he reached the deck. Must’ve been the relief of reaching safety. The doctor says the shock was significant, and we don’t know when he’ll wake.”
“Oh, oh no…”
“As the admiral leading this fleet, I’ll do whatever it takes to fulfill the Tsar’s orders to protect him.”
“What does that mean—”
“It means get off the deck. This is my final warning.”
Blatant hostility.
Lomen’s eyes burned with resolve to do anything for the crown prince’s safety.
A collapsed Nikolai and fully armed sailors guarding the deck.
Takehito wished he’d taken the sword instead.
