Of course, at this point, no one besides Franz yet understood exactly what changes had taken place in this world. Three-quarters of Tunisia was clearly not enough to satisfy the Austrian Empire's appetite.
No one in the Austrian Empire condemned the war at this time. On the contrary, many believed they ought to swallow the British share as well.
Tunisia was simply too small, and too poor. It could neither satisfy the greedy desires of the upper classes nor the vanity of the lower classes, much less the merchants' ambitions for expansion and the imperial elite's urgent thirst for achievements and glory.
Even without any prompting from Franz, the mood of the entire nation had already become feverishly excited.
What he had not anticipated, however, was that Austrians seemed to harbor a deep obsession with the Balkans.
Inside a café, a well-dressed elderly man spoke to his nephew, who was also his son-in-law.
"Have you heard?"
"Uncle, you've already retired from the army, yet your information network is still so well-connected. I did hear that a batch of supplies is being transported to the border. While the workers were moving them, they accidentally dropped a crate—and it was full of rifles.
A lot of people saw it."
Faced with the compliment, the old man could not hide his satisfaction. He continued in an utterly certain tone.
"Looks like the Empire is about to reclaim its glory. We'll surely beat those Ottomans until they scurry away like rats with their heads in their hands." After rambling on for a while, the old man added regretfully, "Why wouldn't you join the army, boy? Why insist on going into business? Otherwise, you could have used this opportunity to secure yourself a rank or two."
The young man merely smiled.
"Uncle, if I'd joined