While the court of Joseon erupted into frantic debate over the news that had arrived from Shanghai, Japan was undergoing much the same turmoil.
The same report had reached Edo, and it had thrown the shogunate into a state of uneasy tension.
"France and Russia…"
Tokugawa Ieyoshi muttered thoughtfully.
"Neither of those countries has ever been spoken of kindly."
"As Your Excellency predicted," an adviser replied, bowing slightly, "Britain also warned us to be cautious of both states. However, we considered the possibility that Britain might simply be speaking ill of its rivals. So we asked Dutch merchants about their reputations as well."
"Oh? And what did they say?"
Japan possessed one advantage Joseon lacked.
For generations, the shogunate had maintained limited contact with Dutch traders through Nagasaki. Through them, Japan had access to relatively reliable information about the outside world.
And the recent war in China had already confirmed the accuracy of Dutch intelligence through repeated cross-checking.
"The Dutch merchants strongly advised against dealing with either France or Russia," the adviser continued. "They say France once dragged the entirety of Europe into a catastrophic war not even a few decades ago. And Russia, they claim, is constantly expanding its borders in search of warm-water ports, stirring conflicts with neighboring states wherever it goes."
"That matches the report from Shanghai exactly."
"Yes. If Russia continues expanding southward, it will inevitably clash with Qing China. But the Qing Empire currently lacks the strength to defend its distant coastal territories. It is quite possible Russia may eventually share a border with Joseon."
"Could Joseon serve as a buffer against Russia?"
At the question, the adviser Toyama gave a faint, bitter smile.
"Do you truly believe Joseon possesses such strength, Your Excellency?"
"Impossible," the shogun admitted. "And now we hear that France may also be searching for opportunities in this region. If Joseon collapses and becomes Russia's forward base, then we ourselves will stand exposed."
"Russia and Britain are said to be rivals," Toyama replied. "If Russia attempts to swallow Joseon whole, perhaps Britain will intervene."
"Ordinarily, perhaps," Ieyoshi said. "But if Russia offers Britain a sufficient price… who knows? Britain might concede Joseon and instead use Japan as its defensive line."
Regardless of the exact outcome, one thing was clear.
The great powers of Europe had begun extending their claws toward Asia in earnest.
And that meant the fire was already burning at Japan's doorstep.
Could it be stopped?
And if so—how?
The shogun considered countless possibilities, yet every conclusion led to the same bleak answer.
Japan alone might not be strong enough.
"If I surrender to either France or Russia and open our ports," he said slowly, "the daimyo will surely rise against me and denounce my weakness. Under no circumstances can I yield to their demands. For that reason, Joseon must hold Russia in place at all costs…"
"What of France?" Toyama asked.
"That is simpler. France is Britain's rival, is it not? Then we will simply bring Britain into the matter."
Though the situation was dangerous, there was also opportunity.
If the shogunate weathered this crisis successfully, the shogun's authority would soar. He would become the man who protected the nation from foreign encroachment.
Perhaps forcing Killian into the Tokugawa genealogy had been the correct decision after all.
Because of that questionable maneuver, highly valuable intelligence had now fallen into their hands.
"Send envoys to Joseon," the shogun ordered. "Request talks. They are in greater danger than we are, so they will likely accept. We should discuss how to respond to the Russian threat together."
"At once, Your Excellency."
Surely Joseon had begun preparing its own countermeasures.
In the past, Japan's island geography had shielded it from invasion.
But those advantages were fading.
The sea was no longer a barrier.
It had become a road.
Foreign fleets could sail straight into their waters.
Which meant Joseon needed to hold the northern line no matter what.
Between increasingly unruly daimyo and Western powers eyeing Japan like hungry predators, the shogun felt a growing certainty.
Unless Japan adapted to the changing world—
It might be devoured.
Across the Pacific
If Asia resembled a powder keg waiting to explode, there was another region where the fuse had already burned down.
The United States.
A nation filled with stubborn rebels who preferred opposition to obedience and liberty to loyalty.
In such a country, conflict could erupt from even the smallest spark.
And now the most explosive issue of all—
Slavery—
had ignited open confrontation.
The sitting president, John Tyler, had been summoning pro-slavery lawmakers to the White House day after day in hopes of containing the crisis.
"Do you have another briefing today?" Tyler asked.
"Yes, Mr. President," came the reply.
The speaker was John C. Calhoun, former vice president and now one of the most influential figures in Southern politics.
"The mood in South Carolina is extremely serious."
"That grave?"
"Plantation owners are reporting slave escapes at alarming rates. And this is not limited to South Carolina. Virginia, Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia—this is happening across the entire South."
"That is indeed serious."
"This must be addressed as our highest priority," Calhoun continued. "Yet Congress remains hesitant. It is not that they fail to understand the severity of the situation—they simply prefer not to."
Ever since most Northern states abolished slavery, escaped slaves had occasionally fled northward.
But the Fugitive Slave Laws still applied even there.
Any runaway discovered in the North could be arrested and returned.
Northern states rarely pushed the matter too far, since they wished to avoid provoking the South.
But this time the scale was unprecedented.
"Yesterday alone," Calhoun said grimly, "one hundred forty-three slaves disappeared from South Carolina. Not in a week—one day. Such numbers cannot be explained without organized assistance."
"That is troubling," Tyler admitted. "Have you identified the culprits?"
In the past, various groups had attempted to help slaves escape.
Those organizations had been swiftly punished.
Tyler had assumed the situation might resolve itself with similar enforcement.
But Calhoun shook his head in frustration.
"That is the problem. We have no clear culprit. But I suspect involvement from some Northern state. Recently there has been talk of some ridiculous organization—something called the 'NBA'—claiming that black lives have value."
"I have heard of them," Tyler said. "My investigation suggests they operate cautiously within legal boundaries. Perhaps they are not involved. Could it be that the slaves themselves organized the escapes?"
"Mr. President."
Calhoun laughed softly.
"Do you truly believe they possess the intelligence to organize secret societies?"
"Ah… of course. I overlooked that."
"The methods used in these escapes clearly suggest assistance from capable white men. Blacks could never accomplish something like this alone. If we investigate that angle, we may uncover the truth."
"I share your concerns," Tyler said solemnly. "As president, I will support any efforts necessary to resolve this crisis. As you say, Southern leaders must unite regardless of party."
"Indeed. On behalf of the South, I thank you."
"Slavery is the foundation and tradition of this Union," Tyler declared. "I will not allow anyone to destroy it."
Had Northern politicians overheard those words, they might have collapsed in disbelief.
But neither man cared.
To them, the South had been far too lenient for far too long.
It was time to respond with strength.
Neither the president nor the seasoned senator realized that the current turmoil was not entirely spontaneous.
Someone had carefully nudged events in this direction.
Meanwhile in Britain
"Killian, are you ready?"
"Yes. Where shall we go this time?"
"We visited Birmingham recently. How about Manchester next?"
While the world descended into chaos, I intended to enjoy my honeymoon.
People often say the happiest days of one's life are the first weeks of marriage.
Now I understood why.
For the first week after the wedding, Victoria and I remained quietly at Windsor Castle, enjoying a peaceful retreat together.
From the moment we woke until nightfall, we were always together.
If we wanted fresh air, we strolled through the gardens or wandered the nearby forest.
After that week passed, we set out on what was officially an inspection tour of Birmingham—but was, in truth, a honeymoon.
Naturally, we did not neglect our duties.
We visited factories under construction, newly built schools, hospitals, and spoke directly with both workers and industrialists.
As the second-largest industrial center after London, Birmingham offered no shortage of places to see.
Victoria seemed particularly inspired.
Even after we returned to London, she continued discussing what she had observed and how the British Empire should move forward.
"Manchester is said to be the center of the cotton industry," she said thoughtfully. "I imagine seeing it firsthand would be enlightening. What do you think?"
"Manchester and Liverpool are practically a single economic system," I replied. "If we go, we should visit both. I have no objection—though I wonder if we'll have enough time."
"Enough time? You hardly seem busy lately," she teased. "You've already met most of the royal family and the senior government officials."
"That's true. At the moment, I don't have much to do."
Not long ago, the Prime Minister, Charles Wellesley, had visited in visible frustration.
He had asked whether I intended to retire from politics entirely.
From an outsider's perspective, I must have looked like a lovestruck husband completely absorbed in his blissful new marriage.
"Are you feeling restless now that you've stepped away from politics?" Victoria asked. "If so, you can tell me honestly. I could arrange a position for you if necessary."
"That's not necessary," I replied gently. "The Queen of the British Empire should not trouble herself with such trivial matters."
"Trivial?" she protested. "The concerns of the person I love most are hardly trivial."
"Victoria," I said carefully, "if you intervene directly, people will accuse you of political interference no matter how reasonable the justification. Perhaps later—but for now, it is better to wait."
"Wait? And you think the situation will change by itself?"
Of course it would not.
This was not some prayer circle where wishing hard enough summoned a savior on horseback.
Yet at the same time, she was not entirely wrong either.
"If we wait patiently," I said with a small smile, "we may feel a tug on the line. In fishing, patience is also a skill."
I had already cast more bait than enough.
The world had already changed.
Now it was only a matter of when others realized it.
Sooner or later, the seeds I had scattered across the globe would break through the soil and begin bearing fruit.
And when that happened, everyone would understand the same truth.
There was only one person capable of cleaning up the chaos now spreading across the world.
And whether they liked it or not—
They would come looking for me.