Dutch's Beer Hall

"BREAKING NEWS! THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE'S VANGUARD FORCE OF ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND NAVAL PERSONNEL HAS ARRIVED IN WASHINGTON STATE! THE WASHINGTON GOVERNOR HAS SENT AN URGENT, SCREAMING REQUEST FOR ASSISTANCE!"

"BREAKING NEWS! THE UNITED STATES NEW EASTERN GOVERNMENT HAS DECIDED TO STAND FIRM AGAINST FOREIGN POWERS AND IS CURRENTLY RECRUITING HEAVILY! ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND SOLDIERS HAVE ALREADY GATHERED ON THE FRONT LINES TO DEFEND, DETERMINED TO STRIKE DOWN THE ARROGANCE OF THE BRITISH-FRENCH ALLIED FORCES!"

"BREAKING NEWS! JAPAN AND THE ITALIAN EMPIRE ARE TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE CHAOS, THE DAMN VULTURES! THEY ARE DEMANDING THAT THE VAN DER LINDE GOVERNMENT AND THE UNITED STATES NEW EASTERN GOVERNMENT SELL SEVENTEEN THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED SQUARE KILOMETERS OF LAND IN ALASKA! THE AUDACITY!"

"BREAKING NEWS! DUTCH VAN DER LINDE WILL DELIVER A SPEECH OF RESISTANCE TODAY AT NOON IN FRONT OF THE VALENTINE TAVERN! ALL INTERESTED PARTIES ARE INVITED TO ATTEND! COME ONE, COME ALL!"

A newsboy in Valentine, his face bright with a feverish excitement, dressed in neat and comfortable clothes that were once unheard of for his kind, jogged frantically through the bustling streets of Valentine, his voice raw, shouting loudly, drawing the excited, almost delirious citizens of Valentine to flock towards the Valentine Tavern like moths to a flame.

On the surrounding streets, countless people, their faces grimly determined, were setting up wires and electric loudspeakers with ladders, their movements swift and purposeful, ensuring that the entire damn town of Valentine could hear Dutch Van der Linde's speech at noon today, every word of it.

It was noon, and the sun, a fiery orb, was rising higher, casting long, sharp shadows.

The time for Dutch Van der Linde's speech was drawing closer, the air thick with anticipation.

The streets of Valentine were a surging, living tide of people, countless individuals had spontaneously gathered, occupying every inch of the streets. Even the dusty rooftops of the tavern and surrounding houses were crammed with eager crowds, perched precariously.

Countless people looked on with bated breath, their excitement and anticipation peaking, a palpable hum in the air, as each agonizing minute passed.

They were endlessly, desperately looking forward to Dutch Van der Linde's speech, their hearts pounding in unison.

Finally!

"Rumble rumble rumble..."

A deep, guttural roaring sound, a metallic growl, came from afar, drawing the attention of countless Valentine citizens, their heads snapping towards the end of the street, their eyes wide.

The deafening roar of diesel engines, accompanied by thick, oily black smoke, rose into the air like a monstrous plume, amidst the shocked, fervent, and utterly terrified gazes of countless Valentine citizens.

Cold, massive steel beasts, their forms menacing, formed an endless, terrifying straight line, thundering along the dusty roads of Valentine, shaking the very ground beneath their feet!

Dense VDL Party flags, emblazoned with Dutch's defiant 'V', were planted proudly on the bodies of these steel behemoths, their banners fluttering wildly in the wind, and the beasts moved in disciplined groups, a terrifying, unstoppable procession.

Rolling black smoke, thick and acrid, rose into the sky with the roar of the engines, obscuring the sun. Dutch Van der Linde, dressed impeccably in the stark black and white uniform of the VDL Party leader, stood high on the first steel beast, his figure silhouetted against the smoke, like an astonishing deity, a god of war descended!

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh..."

Almost instantly, the people of Valentine erupted, a spontaneous, deafening roar of adoration and terror.

Damn it, they thought, their minds reeling, who in this era had ever seen such terrifying steel creations?! Such instruments of destruction?!

Tanks first appeared on the battlefield during World War I, years from now, and they could easily destroy the enemy's will to resist, turning brave men into cowering wrecks! But now that this thing appeared on their side, on their streets, it was undoubtedly the biggest confidence booster, the ultimate symbol of power!

It was like the unparalleled pride and excitement brought to the people by the successful launch of the East Wind missile, a display of raw, unchallengeable might!

Especially since this terrifying marvel was brought out by Dutch Van der Linde himself, their very own Messiah!

"VAN DER LINDE!"

"VAN DER LINDE!"

"VAN DER LINDE!"

The citizens on the streets of Valentine shouted wildly, their voices hoarse, demonstrating a terrifying, unified human torrent, a wave of fanaticism.

This surging crowd spontaneously retreated, their eyes fervent, almost burning, continuously waving the VDL Party flags in their hands, a sea of black and white. Their cheers almost completely overturned the entire Valentine, shaking its foundations to their core!

Amidst the throngs of people, Dutch Van der Linde's steel Tank, spewing thick, acrid smoke, circled Valentine completely, a triumphant parade, finally arriving at the precise place where he intended to deliver his earth-shattering speech.

In front of the Valentine Tavern, a makeshift stage of steel.

The Van der Linde's Guard immediately stepped forward, their movements precise, carrying the electric loudspeaker, which had already been prepared and connected to the entire Valentine's network, ensuring every soul could hear, and installed it with a metallic clang on the Tank where Dutch Van der Linde was standing.

"Buzz buzz buzz..."

The not-so-good electronic sound equipment of this era emitted a harsh, grating buzzing, a discordant note, but soon, it was replaced by the smooth, resonant, terrifyingly charismatic voice of Dutch Van der Linde.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I am Dutch Van der Linde!"

Dutch stood high on top of the steel Tank, a commanding figure, his eyes sweeping over the vast, adoring crowd. From his elevated position, he had an unobstructed view of everything below, a sea of faces. Using such a terrifying steel creation as a podium was far more impactful than any previous speeches, a statement of absolute, undeniable power!

"VAN DER LINDE!"

"VAN DER LINDE!"

With such a simple, yet powerful, sentence from Dutch, the emotions of the crowd below completely exploded, a volcanic eruption of devotion.

Regardless of whether they were men or women, whether they were Dutch Van der Linde's workers or not, everyone at this moment spontaneously merged their emotions, their individual wills dissolving, completely becoming Dutch Van der Linde's most loyal, most fervent followers.

Dutch Van der Linde gently extended his right hand downwards, a slow, deliberate gesture, like a conductor quieting an orchestra.

With this one action, the entire Valentine instantly fell silent, a sudden, profound hush that was almost more terrifying than the previous roar.

This level of charisma and obedience was terrifying! It was absolute.

Dutch was very satisfied with this, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

He looked at the people below him with eyes full of satisfaction, a paternal pride, and the sleek leather coat of his black and white leader's uniform, fluttering in the breeze, added to his already formidable charm, making him seem even more imposing.

Then, he spoke loudly, his voice resonating with power: "It is a great pleasure to stand here today and see you. Citizens of Valentine, members of the VDL Party, and working-class warriors fighting against imperialism and capitalism! You are the backbone of a new world!"

He pounded his chest with his fist, his eyes blazing. "Today, we stand here, on the sacred land of the American people, in Valentine, in this city built entirely by ourselves, by our own sweat and blood, and it fills me with immense satisfaction and pride! A monument to our will!"

Dutch's voice dropped, becoming a low, contemptuous growl. "Someone once pompously told me: Civilization is guided by capital, because only the movement of capital can bring opportunities for development! A lie! A damned, insidious lie!"

He leaned forward, his eyes piercing the crowd. "But now, gentlemen, ladies, our development has completely refuted his ridiculous statement. Without the existence of that parasitic capital, we can not only develop by our own strength, but also make everyone's life better, richer, more fulfilling! We have proven them wrong!"

"Therefore, this undoubtedly confirms my previous conclusion, my undeniable truth." Dutch's voice rose to a crescendo. "The highest class in the entire America is no different from the lowest class of bandits. They are all bandits, but one robs by setting rules, by legalizing their theft, and the other robs by breaking rules! They are two sides of the same rotten coin!"

He pointed a finger, sweeping it across the horizon, encompassing the distant East. "Those American capitalists ride on our necks, sucking our blood dry, and pompously proclaim that this is an opportunity for historical development! They are parasites! They not only want to exploit our interests, to steal our wealth, but also to crush our spirit from the bone, turning us into obedient slaves, mindless drones!"

Dutch's voice became a thunderous roar, filled with righteous indignation. "So, tell me, do you choose to be a spineless slave, forever groveling, or do you choose to stand up from now on and fight them to the bitter, bloody end?!"

He paused, letting the question hang in the air, then softened his tone, a subtle manipulation. "I know some of you might say: Mr. Van der Linde, we need bread, we need to survive, we need to live. Yes, you are absolutely right, life is truly too important, too precious."

His eyes hardened, gleaming with a dangerous light. "However, there is always something more important than life in this world, and that is dignity and freedom! Priceless treasures!"

Dutch's voice dripped with contempt. "The sweatshops run by capitalists can indeed let you survive, can indeed give you a piece of black bread that no one looks at, a mere crust. But for such a piece of bread, you lose all dignity and are exploited as slaves; you are exhausted by life and death throughout your life, so what is the damn meaning of such a life obtained through begging?! It's a living death!"

He pounded the Tank's steel with his fist, a metallic clang. "The oppression of capital is like a rope around your neck. As the rope that can hang you tightens, your pleas and protests, sacrificing dignity and freedom, can only bring a slight loosening, a temporary reprieve. As long as the shadow of capital exists on American soil for one day, they will return like bone-eating maggots, consuming you whole!"

Dutch's voice rose to a furious crescendo. "When you were still workers, common laborers, capitalists already oppressed you wantonly. Your united strikes and protests could not even make them give in slightly, and hiring Pinkerton Detectives to shoot protestors was even touted as normal, a legitimate business practice! In this government society composed of American capital, your protests and pleas cannot bring the slightest improvement to your lives, and even now, just as your lives are starting to improve, those American capitalists who are unwilling to see you rise up are going to use force to encircle us, to crush us!"

His eyes blazed with a terrifying intensity. "Tightening the rope around your neck when you obey, and wantonly slaughtering you when you disobey—is this the result you want?! Is this the future you choose?!"

He leaned forward, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, yet amplified to thunder. "Gentlemen, ladies, what you need is not a piece of bread, what you need is not a job, what you need is a space where you can survive, where you can thrive, truly free! And this space cannot be obtained by begging and protesting, but by cruel and iron-blooded means! By force!"

Dutch's voice became a final, booming challenge. "So, are you willing to continue being exploited and enslaved, or are you warriors who, even for a fleeting moment of glory, will bloom and secure a living space for your descendants?!"

"WARRIOR!"

"WARRIOR!"

"WARRIOR!"

Accompanying Mr. Van der Linde's impassioned speech, the atmosphere at the scene surged wildly, a chaotic, unified roar, and countless shouts merged, venting the unvented frenzy of the Valentine people, their pent-up rage finally unleashed.

And Mr. Van der Linde's speech reached its absolute, terrifying peak.

"Yes! We must unite, we must be strong, unite the strength of all American people, to contend with these anarchic and stateless capitals, these predatory beasts! This is the only way we can succeed! This is our destiny!"

He pointed to the VDL Party flag, fluttering proudly above him. "Only two things can unite people: common ideals and common crimes! And our great ideal is carved on the VDL Party flag! It is carved in our very backbone! In today's America, nothing can save us but this common ideal, this shared dream!"

His voice hardened, becoming a chilling declaration of war. "American capital and European capital want to completely break our firm backbone, to turn us into spineless worms, but we will not let them have their way! We will not yield!"

Dutch raised his right fist, his eyes blazing with a terrifying conviction. "Do what you want to do, like a true warrior, with our compatriots, under my leadership, raise the banner of our ideals, and fight tenaciously! Let us prove to them that we are not their slaves!!!"

His voice reached a crescendo, shaking the very ground. "From now on, I will lead you in the final struggle as the supreme leader. If I fall, I will get up again, but I will not fall! In this struggle, there will only be two outcomes. The enemy eliminates us, or we eliminate the enemy. If we fail, then wrap my body in the VDL Party flag. Other ambitious individuals can all become leaders of the VDL Party! Certain victory!" (A faint, almost ethereal echo of a mournful song, a heavy rain pouring, seemed to accompany his words, unheard by the crowd.)

Mr. Van der Linde's speech completely ignited the madness of the Valentine people. They all raised their fists to their chests, their shouts were hoarse, and the fanaticism in their eyes could even turn into literal flames, burning with devotion.

"CERTAIN VICTORY!"

"CERTAIN VICTORY!"

"CERTAIN VICTORY!"

The people of Valentine went mad, a collective, unstoppable force.

Regardless of old people or children, men or women, everyone was immersed in the greatness and spirit of sacrifice depicted by Mr. Van der Linde, their minds consumed by his vision.

Since ancient times, many heroes have shown great ambition through sacrifice, daring to make the sun and moon change the sky, to defy fate itself.

Death is extremely terrifying for everyone, a universal fear.

But strangely, when death changes its name to sacrifice, when it is cloaked in glory, it can pull on everyone's faith, inspiring them to unimaginable acts.

Americans are no exception.

Although their war films are full of post-war reflection, in reality, if those directors and actors were put into that era, they would all shout louder than the next, caught in the fervor.

Being in the midst of it, one is no longer an outsider, no longer a mere observer. Otherwise, they would not still be thinking of invasion even now.

And Dutch's speech was full of carefully crafted linguistic artistry, a masterclass in manipulation.

From the very beginning, he stirred their inner sense of struggle and concern by starting from their immediate interests, from their daily bread, as what Dutch said was the undeniable truth and closely related to everyone's lives.

Then, he used the art of language to attribute all faults to American capital, creating a common imaginary enemy for the Valentine people, a monster to rally against.

Finally, he ended with his own sacrifice, a powerful, emotional appeal, using his belief in sacrifice, even of his life, to completely ignite the emotions within the Valentine people, turning them into a raging inferno of loyalty.

Psychological art and linguistic art were played to the extreme by Mr. Dutch Van der Linde, a true maestro of the human mind.

And the effect, as expected, was devastatingly effective.

Accompanying Mr. Van der Linde's words, this group of Valentine people became even more frantic than if they had snorted powder, their movements jerky, their eyes wild.

All of a sudden, tens of thousands of people rushed to sign up and eagerly joined the army, a human tide. Not only men signed up, but women also came in droves, their faces set with grim determination.

However, things certainly cannot be handled this way, Dutch knew, ever the pragmatist. After all, internal production and circulation must be maintained, otherwise, the internal structure would collapse first, and their revolution would starve.

Therefore, most of those who enlisted were politely rejected by the conscription office, their enthusiasm gently redirected.

At this time, Mr. Van der Linde already had Tanks and artillery, and the planes had not yet been officially brought to the battlefield, so there was no need for so many people, a mass of untrained bodies.

During World War II, the German army in Leningrad was able to fight 500,000 against 3.5 million with a slight advantage in equipment and high-quality training. Mr. Dutch Van der Linde's soldiers not only had excellent marksmanship but also had much more advanced weapons in their hands, a decisive edge.

He did not think that the casualty ratio his soldiers inflicted would be worse than that of the German army; in fact, he expected it to be far better.

Newspapers, hot off the presses, were sent out from Valentine, their headlines screaming.

This final speech by Mr. Dutch Van der Linde before the start of the war is bound to go down in history, a monumental moment.

And it is bound to bring the entire America into the eye of the storm, a nation consumed by civil war.

And this, Mr. Van der Linde no longer cared about. He had set the wheels in motion.

Because his steel Tanks had already been transported to the front lines by train, their engines rumbling, ready to unleash hell!