CHAPTER 312: CHAPTER 223: GUARANTEE TO MAKE THE HOUJOU FAMILY HOWL

The east and west sides of Edo Bay are the Miura Peninsula and the Boso Peninsula, which means they are embraced by what would become the future Chiba and Kanagawa Prefectures. The bay extends nearly two hundred li from north to south, with the bay mouth spanning barely more than ten li—making it one of Japan’s finest natural harbors.

In this era, Edo Bay has not yet become the giant cesspool it would be in later generations. The seawater is clear, the scenery rather picturesque—"The Great Wave off Kanagawa" depicts these very views. The fishery resources are also plentiful. As recorded in the "Edo Townspeople’s Diary": The bounty of Edo Bay can sustain the Shogunate’s granaries.

After 1603, the population here would swell to a million, with nearly a thousand commercial and fishing boats coming and going each day; it would become the most prosperous place in Japan.

But now the Tokugawa family hasn’t arrived yet; the area is still under the control of the Satomi clan—or, to be more precise, the Mizuno Family, who use Hundred Heads City as their base of operations to control this portion of the sea.

Now, the "overlord" of these waters, Mizuno Shichiro, has come back hanging from the prow of the ship. Whether it’s the Hundred Heads Water Thieves left behind to guard the stronghold or the defeated troops who’d just fled back, seeing this brazen spectacle, they’ve entirely lost any will to sally out to fight—shrinking back into the water stockade of Hundred Heads City, shivering with fear.

Mm, Hundred Heads City is a combination of a yamashiro (mountain castle) and a water city. The fortifications climb the mountainside, with oar towers, stone walls, and harbor facilities—it can berth dozens of warships, making it quite substantial in scale. Even in modern times, its crumbling remains can still be found—it’s now a historical scenic site in Chiba Prefecture, the kind that charges admission.

That’s actually quite rare—after all, in modern Japan large tracts have been reclaimed from the sea, greatly altering the terrain. The survival of Hundred Heads City’s remains is a stroke of luck.

Harano stood on board the "Chita" appraising this city where mountain and sea meet, finding it quite interesting, and thought that the future Edo Castle must have taken inspiration from Hundred Heads City—essentially a larger-scale imitation.

Ah Man thought he was curious and casually offered him some history: "I heard that this place was once called Castle of Sea-making, built by the Murakidani Takeda family. But later, when the Satomi clan attacked, the Murakidani Takeda family couldn’t withstand them, so they decided it all on a wager—each side would recite a hundred waka poems, and as long as the Satomi clan won, they’d surrender the castle. Sure enough, the Satomi clan won, thought it an elegant affair, and renamed it Hundred Heads City."

"So that’s how it was. The Murakidani Takeda family lost on purpose, didn’t they?" Harano replied offhandedly.

"Of course. They were clever enough to give themselves a way out. At least their whole family wasn’t wiped out."

Harano nodded slightly, but he wasn’t especially interested in this muddled history; he went on carefully examining Hundred Heads City. After a moment, he sighed, "It really is a great spot."

The area was already well developed—even if not on par with the future Edo, it wasn’t at all the wilderness the rumors claimed the Kantou to be. And the location of Hundred Heads City was excellent: advance, and you could threaten the Miura Peninsula, stabbing at its soft underbelly; withdraw, and you could control the nearby rivers and bays, easily defending yourself. The water stockade and harbor were also immense, able to berth close to a hundred ships of varying size—a perfect place to amass strength.

If Harano recalled correctly, during the Edo Era, Hundred Heads City was turned into the Tokugawa Shogunate’s "Main Customs Office," responsible for patrolling the sea and cracking down on smuggling. To be picked as a customs site—the location really was superb.

Ah Man looked up at him—he could see the green light flicker in Harano’s eyes, much like how he’d stared at the Ise Peninsula before. So he quickly asked, "So, should we change the plan and take this place?"

Harano was indeed tempted by this first-class harbor—a good place is hard to resist—but after a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head. "It’s too far from Wanjin. Even if we took it for now, holding it long-term would be hard. Better to forget it."

This time, he hadn’t brought much in the way of an army; forcing a landing would be tough, at the very least resulting in heavy casualties. Even if he managed to seize it by force, this was the Satomi clan’s key foothold on the Boso Peninsula. Barging in here would inevitably provoke the Satomi to drop their fight with the Houjou family and mobilize tens of thousands to fight him to the end.

If he really did occupy Hundred Heads City, it’d be as though he was taking the fall for the Houjou family—their people would likely be grinning from ear to ear. So, best let the Houjou and Satomi keep fighting for now, and revisit the question once they’d finished with each other.

But this piece of land—it’s truly a shame. If only this kind of geography could be transplanted to the Chita Peninsula. Too bad it can’t!

Harano quickly suppressed his own greed and gave a direct order: "Let’s begin. Burn this place down!"

At his command, the Wanjin Navy sprang into action. Kobaya boats advanced in front to guard against the possibility of the Hundred Heads Water Thieves making a desperate sortie. The customs ships armed with Flamboyant cannons also began moving to take up firing positions, while the rocket team aboard the "Chita" swiftly measured wind direction, speed, and distance.

A few minutes later, led by twelve "Wanjin Rockets," the Wanjin Navy unleashed a barrage of gunfire, launching a long-range assault against Hundred Heads City.

The main targets weren’t defensive structures, nor was the goal to slaughter the defenders. What mattered was to sink as many ships as possible hiding in the stockade and destroy shipbuilding yards, timber stores, warehouses, and the other means of production—ensuring the Mizuno Family and their water thieves would never recover, and wouldn’t make trouble on this trade route in the future.

This was probably the first time in the Japan Middle Ages that such a large-scale bombardment took place. Ah Man watched the flashes of fire on ships large and small, the rockets rising into the air—far from feeling glorious, his heart simply ached: "This is burning through money way too fast—each one costs over a hundred kan, and this round of shooting is likely to run up a bill of ten or twenty thousand kan."