Chaos in the Southern Netherlands

Just as Napoleon left Paris and headed south, several Dutch-speaking workers gathered in a corner during their lunch break at a coal crushing plant in the southernmost part of Brussels, in Wallonia, whispering among themselves.

A middle-aged man with large pores nervously glanced at the distant overseer, then lowered his head and said:

"Why do we need guns? They never said it would be this serious before..."

"Are you scared?" The tall young man beside him gestured around with the bread in his hand.

"Do you want to keep being oppressed by those lackeys of the French, all for that miserable little wage of yours?

"If our plan succeeds, I guarantee you'll get this factory!"

The few men beside him, including the middle-aged man, swallowed hard without thinking.

This coal crushing plant was worth more than a hundred thousand francs. For such a vast sum, countless people would be willing to stake their lives.

After a moment, a little old man with a pointed face asked cautiously, "Mr. Marsevin, can this really succeed?"

"Of course. Without a doubt. Several thousand brothers across Wallonia will answer our call!"

The rough-skinned middle-aged man frowned. "But there are also several thousand police officers in Wallonia."

"What's there to fear? We have guns." The tall young man clenched his fist hard. "And the Austrian government will send troops to support us.

"The Southern Netherlands belongs to us. Those French-speaking bastards will be driven completely out of the Low Countries!"

He had been a mid-level leader in the previous Southern Netherlands uprising. After spending several years in prison, he had chosen to cooperate with the Austrian government.

Stirring up division and riots was exactly what he excelled at.

The six or seven workers around him finally stopped hesitating. They said that after returning, they would