Chapter 81 – Spring Bullet Tour? (3)

“Huh? This isn’t an ironworks?”

“It’s called steelmaking, but it’s not an ironworks—it’s a company that makes products related to steel. Well, eventually, we’d like to move into integrated steelmaking though.”

The Kobe Steel plant was located along the coast in Kobe, a bit east by car from the Suzuki main office. The one explaining this was Kaneko-san.

Just as he explained, the steelmaking, cast steel, and forged steel plants—all used for integrated large machinery production—stood out, having been greatly expanded around 1920. And as evident from its strong ties with Kawasaki Shipbuilding, this place was also involved in constructing naval vessels.

But contrary to my expectations, it was rather cramped.

It made sense since it wasn’t an integrated steelworks, but I couldn’t help thinking that Kobe’s proximity to the mountains meant there wasn’t enough land to build the kind of vast, integrated steel plant I was envisioning.

At the very least, large-scale land reclamation would be necessary to create suitable space. But that would take more time than I probably had.

“You’re planning to build a steelworks? If so, I’ll fund it.”

“You say that like it’s nothing.”

Kaneko-san replied in an utterly exasperated tone. His gaze at me was also slightly more critical than before. But before long, this really wouldn’t be a big deal anymore.

After all, the kind of money I’m turning into liquid assets could build an atomic bomb—or an entire Combined Fleet.

“We’re going to buy the latest model from America—everything as a complete package. If you can just prepare the land, I think we can bring it over to Japan by next year.”

“Everything?! Do you have any idea how much that’ll cost?!”

I finally got scolded.

Now that it’s come to this, I’ve got no choice but to fire back.

“It’s cheaper than building a battleship! I’m planning to build one big integrated steelworks—on a plot of land big enough to fit at least four blast furnaces and production lines. And I mean to make a Japan that needs that scale. Otherwise, we won’t even be able to step into the ring with America, much less fight them!”

To top it off, I puffed out my still-flat chest.

Kaneko-san blinked in surprise for a while.

“Wait, the government’s put a stop to integrated steel production—aside from places like Yahata and Kamaishi, right?”

Maybe the talk had gotten too grand—he suddenly pulled the conversation back to a more realistic level.

Well, that is one of the hurdles.

“The real problem is that Japan doesn’t produce nearly enough pig iron. Why do we only have those dinky open-hearth furnaces? That’s why we have to import not just pig iron but even scrap from overseas—and end up making poor-quality steel. What we need is large-scale blast furnace construction and high-grade iron ore imports. If we don’t aim for that, then what are we even doing? Even for steel pipes like the ones this steel plant makes, high-quality steel and crude steel are essential, aren’t they?!”

“No, no, even if we wanted to do it, we couldn’t—that’s why things are the way they are now. For one, we don’t have any high-quality iron ore nearby. Even the mines in Manchuria turned out to be a bust.”

“There is. In Australia. I’ll go looking for it later, though.”

“Australia? Never heard of that. If we’re talking British iron ore, wouldn’t it be somewhere around Malaya? Just what kind of intel does the Ootori group have—wait, this is all in your head, isn’t it?”

(Well, yeah, that’s only natural. The massive iron ore deposits in northwest Australia weren’t discovered until after the war.)

“Great-grandfather and Grandfatherknow about it. Though it’s still a bit in the future. So, does it look like we can find a place in Kobe to build something big?”

“If we reclaim some land, we can probably manage. We weren’t thinking of a fully integrated steelworks, though.”

“Good. Then let’s move on to the next place.”

“Where to next?”

Kaneko-san seems completely overwhelmed by me at this point—like the fight’s gone out of him.

“The candidate site for that steelworks. After that, we’ll head to Aioi.”

“Harima, huh. But there’s not much open land around Aioi, you know?”

“The steelworks will be somewhere near Himeji. Okay, let’s get going, everyone.”

When I turned around, Shizu and Wan-san bowed respectfully. As for Torasaburou, since he’s older and dragging him around too much would be hard on him, has already headed on ahead to Hiroshima. So has our bodyguard, Yagami-occhan.

Even so, I still don’t quite understand why Yagami-occhan and Wan-san are tagging along—but having them with us doesn’t seem like a bad thing, at least in terms of intimidation or asserting presence.

And so, that afternoon we arrived at Hirohata, a coastal area in the southwest part of Himeji.

We had to transfer between trains, but people and cars had been arranged at each location ahead of time, so we made it there in the shortest time possible for this era. As for Himeji Castle, we only caught a glimpse of it from the train and car windows. Still, I did get to see the main keep as it was built over 300 years ago.

And since I already talked with Kaneko-san in Kobe, the purpose of coming to Himeji is now clearly a site inspection.

“They’ve already started construction?”

“Not yet. They’re still in the early stages—buying up land and building access roads for construction. Oh, though I think the coastal reinforcement and related reclamation work may have already begun. Either way, I want to establish a fait accompli before the government pushes ahead with merging the steel industry.”

I chose Hirohata in Himeji because, according to the history from my previous life, a steelworks for Nippon Steel will be built here in about ten years.

Also, after having it looked into, this area has stable ground and doesn’t require land reclamation. The population is small, making it easy to buy up farmland. On top of that, there’s a decent river nearby, making it easy to secure the large quantities of water needed for steelmaking.

In addition, one major factor is that negotiations are underway with the local electric railway company to build a branch line if we construct the steelworks here.

And the reason for building it in this location is because it makes it easy to supply large quantities of steel to both Osaka and Kure—that is, to the Army and the Navy.

“What about the government? And the locals?”

“As for the government—well, Takahashi-san said that if price competition with Yawata or Kamaishi becomes an issue, bring it to him. If we’re footing the entire bill ourselves, they can’t really complain, can they? Far from relying on government subsidies, we’ve made plenty of donations. And we’ve spread money around to the locals too. They’re thrilled.”

“What about engineers for steelmaking?”

“We’re currently preparing to recruit domestically. The selection process has already begun. We’re also training new people within the country. And about a hundred are being sent to America for technical training.”

“So things are already in motion. When do you plan to start operations?”

“In two or three years—five at the latest, I want it fully up and running.”

“How many blast furnaces?”

“We’re starting with two. We’re buying enough land to fit four, and we’ll expand via reclamation later on.”

“And how much steel are you planning to produce?”

“Each blast furnace should yield 500,000 tons annually. If we’re serious about competing with America, I’d like two or three more of this scale. Also, the entire facility is being designed with future large-scale expansion in mind.”

“…That’s one hell of a plan.”

“Eh?”

“Eh?”

The difference in our perspectives was so extreme that I found myself locking eyes with the old man in disbelief.

“But listen, during the last war, the European powers were producing around ten million tons of steel annually to wage war. Even with three of these facilities, that’s only six million tons a year. That’s barely 10% of America’s current production.”

“…Hey, do you even know how much Japan is producing right now?”

He looked at me like I was a hopeless child.

How insulting. The whole point is that Japan’s current output is pathetic—that’s why we need to build this!

“That doesn’t matter. I’m looking ahead. If we break even ten years from now, that’s good enough!”

As I declared this, he raised both his hands in surrender.

“You win. We’re just seeing completely different worlds. Where exactly are you aiming, young lady?”

“Of course—to make Japan a true world-class power, in name and reality.”

(After all, if we can’t stand toe-to-toe with America, what awaits me is utter ruin.)

Still not quite on the same page with Mr. Kaneko, we headed next by car to Harima Shipyard in Aioi, about a dozen kilometers west of Himeji.

Here, with capital increases, we’re strengthening facilities and focusing on building as many tankers as possible—centered on large tankers.

However, even with that, the shipbuilding capacity is nowhere near enough for what Ootori envisions. For ships in the 10,000-ton class, only one can be built at a time.

In response, we initiated major expansion work on the Harima Shipyard itself, while also moving forward with plans to build a new shipyard in a different location. At the same time, we commissioned Kawasaki Shipbuilding—one of the major shareholders in our shipping company, Kokusai Kisen—to construct large tankers.

At Kawasaki Shipyard, they managed to build a high-speed tanker—costing 10 million yen, with a 15,000-kiloliter cargo capacity and a top speed of 18 knots—using the same slipway during a six-month gap between the construction of the heavy cruisers Ashigara and Maya.

The tanker itself was of the same design as those built at Harima Shipyard, but as expected of a yard that constructs the Navy’s latest warships, the technology and construction speed were on another level.

It was laid down in May 1928 and launched by November of the same year—a speed build. The heavy cruiser’s launch and the keel-laying of the next cruiser were scheduled immediately before and after, making for a hectic schedule that resembled wartime.

Still, since it was a period with few orders, and we paid a generous sum, Kawasaki Shipbuilding happily took on the project. After all, it was a 10-million-yen ship.

As both of us were major shareholders in Kokusai Kisen, our relationship with Kawasaki deepened significantly. From Kawasaki Shipbuilding’s president, Matsukata Koujirou, I even received a letter of appreciation along with an expensive Western painting.

Incidentally, the tankers were named Hououmaru and Genbumaru. As near-flagship tankers for Ootori, they were equipped luxuriously. In fact, they were so well made that the Navy even asked if they could borrow them in times of war.

But no, I won’t give them up.

Well, if things have come to the point where the Navy actually needs them, then from my perspective, the game’s already “checkmate,” so maybe it doesn’t really matter anymore.

Anyway, Kawasaki has four slipways of varying sizes, so whenever there’s an opening, I continue placing orders with them to build 10,000-ton-class large tankers one after another.

That aside, right now we’ve arrived at Harima Shipyard, which sits in what you might call a cove—Aioi Bay—surrounded by mountains. It seems like it could be a suitable site for a naval base, but it might be a bit too small for that.

Clinging to the mountainside is a large slipway. There are several other slipways as well, and one of them is big enough to handle large vessels—you can even see large cranes there.

And currently, a tanker ordered by Ootori to transport oil is under construction there.

“So ships are built on land, huh?”

“What kinda obvious thing you spoutin’ now?”

At this point, Mr. Kaneko has become my straight man.

I feel a little bad, but I’ll keep playing along.

“I mean, wouldn’t it be easier to build it in a dug-out dock, and then fill it with seawater once the ship’s done?”

“Ah, a drydock, huh? That works for smaller ships, but it’s tough with big ones. The Navy’s shipyard in Kure can do it for large ships, but that place is the only one.”

(Come to think of it, I do remember reading about that somewhere… So it really does exist.)

“Then why not just ask the Navy how they do it and build one yourself?”

“Listen, even if you say ‘dock,’ the ones for maintenance and the ones for construction are totally different shapes. So you’d have to dig and build it from scratch. No need to spend that much money—just build it on a slipway.”

“Are there no advantages to building in a dock?”

“Well, maybe if welding technology gets more advanced, it might become easier to build large ships in docks too. I don’t know the details, though.”

(There it is—the Kansai classic: ‘I don’t know though.’ Well, maybe that’s not quite it.)

Still, he really knows his stuff. I’m reminded again that I need to study a lot more.

“Welding, huh… At Ootori we’re researching block construction and welding too, and we’ve even sent people overseas to train as engineers, but apparently it’s surprisingly hard to use that tech for ships.”

“Well, of course. It’s a new technique. So, what are we doing at Harima Shipyard today?”

“Nothing in particular, just stopping by since we came all the way to Himeji. And our next destination is Hiroshima, so it’s on the way.”

“Hiroshima next, huh. You sure are busy. No wonder you’ve got bodyguards.”

“Just so you know, I’m not heading to Hiroshima to pick a fight with the yakuza.”

“Hahaha! If it’s this guy, I’m sure he’d wipe the floor with them. You too, young man—give it your best.”

Mr. Suzuki is probably joking, but given that the muscle-bound Wan-san looks like a physical monster, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could take down a whole crew of “Jaken no” guys all by himself.

Wan-san himself joins in the laughter out of social politeness, but his smile says, “Nice joke—but I’m way stronger than that.”

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Kobe Steel:
It wasn’t until 1959 that they established an integrated steelworks system capable of producing pig iron to finished steel in one continuous process. Until then, the focus was mainly on processing, like rolling steel.

Enough money to build an atomic bomb or a whole Combined Fleet:
There’s a scene in an old fictional war novel where, when a budget for building an atomic bomb is submitted, a finance ministry official reacts with shock, saying, “You could build a whole Combined Fleet with that!”
In reality, the U.S. spent around 2 billion dollars on the Manhattan Project.

Japan’s crude steel production in 1928:
About 1.9 million tons (historically).
In this world, Japan’s heavy industry is presumably slightly ahead of history, but even so, what the protagonist is suggesting is clearly unrealistic and wildly ambitious.

Annual production of 500,000 tons:
That’s about 1,300–1,400 tons per day. Historically, the new blast furnace installed at Yawata Steelworks shortly after this time produced about 1,000 tons per day. That was finally considered on par with world standards.

The blast furnaces producing 10,000 tons per day that appeared during Japan’s postwar economic boom were still far off in the future.

Steel industry consolidation:
Historically, in 1934, the government-founded Nippon Steel Corporation was created.
Virtually all steel companies in Japan were merged into it.

Kawasaki Shipyard:
A civilian shipyard that built numerous vessels for the Imperial Japanese Navy—later became Kawasaki Heavy Industries.
It was located in a place just barely visible across the bay from Suzuki’s headquarters.One of the core companies of the Kawasaki zaibatsu.
It went bankrupt during the Showa Financial Crisis. However, since it was a valuable shipyard capable of constructing large naval vessels, it was revived thanks to cooperation from the Navy and the military expansion policies that followed.

From here, the railway and aircraft divisions would later branch off as independent companies.

Matsukata Kōjirou:
President of Kawasaki Shipyard and famously known as an art collector. His collection, though partially lost over time, is still referred to today as the “Matsukata Collection.”

In this world, since Kawasaki Shipyard never went bankrupt, his collection should have remained intact.
He was the third son, and all his brothers were remarkable men in their own right—especially the fourth son, who played a key role in founding the Hanshin Tigers and was pivotal to Japanese baseball.

Their father was Matsukata Masayoshi, a statesman of the Meiji era who served as the 4th and 6th Prime Minister of Japan.
In the story, when Reika’s older brother, Ootori Ryuuya, receives praise related to the Toranomon Incident, Matsukata Masayoshi is still alive as a genrō (elder statesman).

Matsukata had many children and descendants, forming a powerful and influential network primarily centered around the financial world.
If the Showa Financial Crisis had not occurred, it’s possible the Matsukata family could have united and formed a major zaibatsu in the Showa era.