News

Dutch was indeed radiating happiness now, a subtle, almost smug satisfaction playing on his lips. After the triumphant school ribbon-cutting ceremony in Valentine, the official establishment of the Valentine School had ignited an unprecedented, almost fanatical surge in public support for the entire burgeoning settlement. The Van der Linde Gang's reputation, once merely whispered in fear, now resonated with reverence, spreading like wildfire with every brick laid at the Valentine First School, ensuring a steady, almost overwhelming, stream of new recruits and loyal workers during this glorious period.

The very tenets of the Van der Linde Gang, his carefully crafted philosophy, were now revered as sacred decrees throughout Valentine, studied day and night with an almost religious fervor.

"The Van der Linde Gang is recruiting again!" a small newsboy shrieked, his voice hoarse, waving a freshly printed newspaper high above his head. "This recruitment requires two hundred female workers! Two hundred male workers! And an unlimited number of gunmen! Those who wish to apply can go to the Van der Linde Gang office in Valentine!"

He shouted relentlessly from the street corner, drawing the eager attention of a massive, surging crowd.

"Kid, give me a newspaper, shit!" a grizzled old-timer barked, pushing through the throng, his eyes wide with urgency.

"Quick, quick, I want one too, shit!" another yelled, practically throwing money at the boy. "I haven't seen Mr. Van der Linde's statements for half a day, it's truly agonizing! I feel a deep, spiritual void!"

"Please give me one too," others chimed in, their hands outstretched, their faces etched with desperate longing. Compared to before, when people merely listened to the newsboy's cries, now this entire crowd surged forward, clambering over each other, desperate to buy the latest edition of the newspaper published by Mr. Van der Linde himself. Even if they couldn't decipher the words themselves, they absolutely had to buy a copy, taking it home to display it proudly, occasionally pulling it out to have their children, now diligently attending school, read a few lines aloud to them, basking in the reflected glory.

Not only were these common folk buying the papers, but within the boisterous confines of the Valentine Tavern, a burly, red-faced man stood on a table, holding the newspaper aloft like a holy text, reciting Dutch's words loudly, passionately, to the rapt audience.

"Hope Factory Newspaper, Tenth Issue," he bellowed, his voice echoing off the wooden beams.

"First, Mr. Van der Linde's Quotations: Mr. Van der Linde always says that the working class is the greatest class in the United States! All material things, all civilization, and the very foundation of development in the world are all formed and produced through the tireless work of the working class! Without the working class, there is no basis for development; without the working class, there is no formation of society… Every worker, regardless of poverty or wealth, regardless of their job, is a great proletarian warrior! They rightfully deserve and possess the unquestionable right to a happy life! Their work constantly contributes to human society, so the vast number of proletarian workers should unite, help each other, and achieve common prosperity… However, in the formation of a society, just as there are great proletarian warriors who selflessly dedicate themselves, there are also corresponding Vampires and parasites who suck the very blood from people! These damned scumbags always like to use the rules and power they establish to exploit, oppress, and humiliate the vast number of proletarian warriors! They plunder and possess their wealth to achieve the bloody accumulation of capital and the centralized consolidation of power! Regarding these damned Vampires and parasites, Mr. Van der Linde believes that all proletarian warriors should unite and extend an iron fist to suppress them, completely smashing them in the torrent of the times, purifying the United States at its source, and making America great again…'"

With each sentence recited by the orator in the Valentine Tavern, a fresh wave of cheers, a surge of frenzied adoration, erupted from the crowd below.

"Excellent!" a man roared, slamming his fist on the table. "Mr. Van der Linde said it so well! Our assets have always been stolen, shit! Otherwise, we wouldn't be so poor now!"

"The United States is rotten, oh, shit! American society is rotten!" another shouted, spitting on the floor. "Among so many people, only Mr. Van der Linde is the most clear-headed one! Only Mr. Van der Linde can lead us to a truly happy life!"

"Mr. Van der Linde is truly a great man, shit! After listening to Mr. Van der Linde's speech, I feel absolutely full of strength! I could move mountains!"

The Valentine Tavern, once a den of depravity, was now a boisterous, almost holy place. In the past, it was packed with either slobbering drunkards or raving madmen, with johns and prostitutes slinking through the shadows. But now, during this period of Dutch's ascendance, this place had been utterly transformed. There were no longer any staggering drunkards in the Valentine Tavern; every single person who entered was now brimming with vigor, their eyes shining with a purposeful light. The arrival of Mr. Van der Linde had not only instilled a powerful hope in their hearts with his various pronouncements, but he had also brilliantly established a common enemy for them, a unifying force that made their spirits exceptionally united and high at that very moment!

If it were just that, it would have been remarkable enough. But the key was that Mr. Van der Linde had indeed continuously, tangibly improved their lives. This potent blend of material satisfaction and spiritual fervor had transformed the Valentine Tavern into something akin to a grand, public forum, a fervent gathering of the devoted. If Mr. Van der Linde were to enter the Valentine Tavern now, he would probably only need to raise his arm and shout, and the entire territory of New Hanover would immediately submit at his feet.

And the spectacle was not over; the dedicated orator in the Valentine Tavern continued to read aloud, his voice gaining momentum.

"The second section of the Hope Happiness Factory Newspaper," he announced, his voice solemn.

"Mayor Lemieux of Saint Denis recently proposed a regulation in the Saint Denis Council, hoping to communicate with the New Hanover State Government to forcibly close the Veteran Club in Valentine. It is alleged that the Veteran Club in Valentine engages in illegal criminal activities such as defrauding veterans, human trafficking, and forced labor.

Regarding this incident, Mr. Van der Linde commented: fabricating charges, forging false evidence, and distorting statements and facts in an unprincipled manner within the rules are the usual tricks of these damned parasitic Vampires! Although facts speak louder than words, lies are always swift! Mr. Van der Linde expresses strong protest and dissatisfaction with this! Mr. Van der Linde hopes that the New Hanover State Government will not collude…'"

The Valentine Tavern, which had just been cheering wildly moments before, was now filled with a roaring, visceral chorus of curses and threats.

"Shit! These damned Saint Denis councilmen! These damned United States councilmen!" an old veteran bellowed, slamming his mug down. "They just don't want us old soldiers to have a good life! Shit! If the New Hanover State Government dares to close Mr. Van der Linde's Veteran Club, then I'll just go and assassinate every last one of them, you damned bastards!"

"Shit! The United States Government is blind!" another cried, shaking his fist at the ceiling. "The council is full of damned scumbags and Vampires! I suggest we form an assassination squad and assassinate all the councilmen in Saint Denis and New Hanover to avenge Mr. Van der Linde!"

"No! No! Robinson, we can't do that!" a calmer, yet equally fervent voice cut through the clamor. "As long as Mr. Van der Linde is fine, even if the Veteran Club closes, even if we continue to wander the streets, even if we die in the wilderness, we are just worthless lives! And such a good person like Mr. Van der Linde should not bear the blame for us! Nor can we burden Mr. Van der Linde!"

"I agree with Fernando's words!" another shouted, his voice thick with emotion. "Mr. Van der Linde should not be punished for us! He is an excellent person, I am willing to fight for him!"

The denunciations in the Valentine Tavern were fierce, their collective fury palpable, even audible from the bustling streets outside. Dutch Van der Linde, the very person at the center of this firestorm, wasn't anxious in the slightest. But these workers and veterans, his newly devoted flock, were already getting dangerously heated, their loyalty simmering into an explosive fervor.