City

Recruitment drives, a churning, desperate maelstrom of humanity, were now in full, glorious swing on the muddy, packed streets of Valentine. There were, of course, exacting requirements for recruiting female workers; for instance, they couldn't be too old, or hiring them would simply be a matter of letting them retire within the factory, a luxury Dutch couldn't yet afford.

Besides age, they couldn't have infectious diseases or unsightly skin diseases, and they needed to be able to accept immediate, decisive relocation. Additionally, the family situations of all recruited female workers would be meticulously recorded, with efforts specifically made to recruit those from truly difficult, desperate family backgrounds.

Only those who had experienced the bitter, grinding heel of hardship would feel a profound, almost spiritual, contrast upon entering the factory's benevolent embrace, leading to genuine admiration and unshakeable gratitude for Dutch, which was the very bedrock for the factory's stability and for him to gain his pre-ordained, utterly devoted followers.

The recruitment on the streets continued, a relentless, emotionally charged spectacle, with people constantly weeping from being cruelly rejected, their hopes dashed, though, tellingly, no one dared to throw a public tantrum.

Firstly, in this brutal era, there were no so-called human rights protection laws or monetary compensation for emotional distress; if you dared to throw a tantrum or act unreasonably, if you dared to question authority, you would be dragged out and shot the very next moment, your body left to rot, unlike in modern society where such behavior is difficult to control.

Secondly, as stated in the first point, there were absolutely no protective measures for ordinary people, and the only law enforcement agency in Valentine, the police, was now firmly, undeniably allied with Mr. Van der Linde. So if Mr. Van der Linde became unhappy, if his smile faltered, they could shoot you in the street without any repercussions, a chilling, absolute power. Thus, although the recruitment work was complex, emotionally draining, and fraught with desperate pleas, it proceeded very smoothly, a testament to Dutch's unspoken authority.

Meanwhile, Dutch, radiating an aura of calm authority, had already entered the Valentine police station, Sheriff Malloy scurrying deferentially beside him.

"Hoo hoo, Mr. Van der Linde," Sheriff Malloy gushed, his voice dripping with obsequious deference, his hands clasped together like a fervent supplicant. "Your arrival honors me greatly, sir! Jack, you worthless hound, pour Mr. Van der Linde some coffee, and make it snappy!" Sheriff Malloy's form of address had changed, from the formal "Mr. Callahan" to the more intimate "Mr. Van der Linde," without the slightest awkwardness or strangeness, a testament to his flexible, survivalist nature.

Dutch merely smiled, a slight, knowing glint in his eye. "You are too kind, Mr. Malloy. With such a refined Sheriff like you, a man of such evident foresight, I think it's no wonder that Valentine has such great prospects for development, indeed." Dutch smiled and followed behind Sheriff Malloy, who, with an exaggerated gesture of humility, guided him to the main seat in the police station, the Sheriff's own chair.

Sheriff Malloy himself then pulled up a smaller, humbler chair and sat beside Dutch, looking for all the world like a loyal subordinate, utterly content in his lesser role. He kept his posture very low, almost groveling, and he was, Dutch noted, very, very smart. He hadn't changed his deferential attitude at all because of Dutch Van der Linde's true, outlaw identity, only intensified it.

"Hoo hoo hoo, Mr. Van der Linde," Mr. Malloy continued, waving his hands repeatedly, deflecting credit with practiced ease, his face beaming with a truly sickening satisfaction. "Since you arrived, our lives in Valentine have visibly, miraculously, improved! Not only that, but even our police officers' living standards have qualitatively, profoundly, improved! You are truly a great benefactor of Valentine, sir! With your presence, Valentine can only get better and better, a true paradise!"

His life was truly wonderful now; every day he enjoyed free, aromatic coffee, fine wine, and top-shelf cigarettes, his clothing was provided free of charge, and because Dutch, with his cunning brilliance, used Malloy's name to issue official-looking police uniforms to his own gang subordinates, Mr. Malloy's personal prestige grew daily, his authority unquestioned.

Coupled with the establishment of the Veteran Club and the factory's continuous, bustling recruitment, there were now very few idle, troublesome people in Valentine, and the town's safety factor had greatly, miraculously, increased. Mr. Malloy now received his salary for free, a mere formality, and occasionally gained some invaluable social connections or lavish gifts from Mr. Van der Linde; it was simply the best, easiest life a small-town sheriff could ever dream of.

"No, no, no, Mr. Malloy," Dutch interjected, a charming smile on his lips, raising the coffee cup on the table in a gesture of acknowledgment. "While I certainly contributed some effort, your contributions are equally indispensable! Therefore, the prosperity of Valentine is something we have achieved together, Mr. Malloy! Hahaha..." He was never stingy with credit, especially when it cost him nothing. Such useless things, these empty words of praise, were best used to win people over, to secure their unwavering loyalty.

Mr. Malloy laughed heartily, a genuine, joyful sound now. "Yes, Mr. Van der Linde, this is indeed the result of our joint efforts! Cheers!" With that, he specifically took out the good wine Dutch had given him from under his desk, a bottle he cherished, and respectfully poured a glass for Dutch, his hands trembling slightly with eagerness.

"Alright, Mr. Malloy. Let's stop with the pleasantries." Dutch drained the wine in his glass, his expression becoming serious, his eyes now sharp, focused. "Next, I need to discuss the future development of Valentine with you, sir. This is true merit, this is a real opportunity, and it is the necessary, inevitable path for Valentine's true prosperity."

Listening to his words, Sheriff Malloy immediately sat up straight, his face a mask of earnest attention, looking at Dutch with a profound, almost desperate seriousness. Mr. Van der Linde never spoke idly; since he said this was the necessary path for Valentine's prosperity, he certainly wouldn't lie, not about something so fundamental.

"Okay, Mr. Van der Linde, please speak!" Malloy urged, leaning forward, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Dutch nodded. He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the flow of people on the street, his gaze incredibly deep, almost seeing into the future. "Mr. Malloy, you should still remember the result I just discussed with you, right? Our plan for Hope Ranch to open stalls, allowing people to set up free stalls and sell goods to make money?"

"I remember, Mr. Van der Linde! I must say, it's a perfect idea; at the very least, it can alleviate the living conditions of some people in Valentine, a stroke of pure genius!" Mr. Malloy nodded enthusiastically, his head bobbing. The Sheriff in this era already held various powers, a small king in his own right, and the development of Valentine was naturally among his purview.

So he could see that Dutch's idea would indeed bring tangible benefits to some of the struggling people in Valentine. However, lacking Dutch's profound, almost futuristic foresight, he couldn't see the true, grand implications, the future developments that would inevitably follow.

"Yes, it's a good idea, but the true core isn't what you think, Mr. Malloy." Dutch turned from the window, his eyes incredibly deep, almost fathomless. He looked at Malloy, who was now utterly confused, and said in a condensed, deliberate voice, "Sheriff, Hope Ranch is a natural platform for attracting investment, a beacon of prosperity, because with the inevitable expansion of the factory, the number of workers inside will further increase, a constant, growing influx, and the resulting consumption level will also further improve. Therefore, the number of stalls established will also increase accordingly.

Selling goods around the factory is undoubtedly a business that guarantees profit, or at the very least, is consistently profitable. And as long as there is profit, countless people will flock to it, like moths to a flame. This will create the crucial conditions for people to gather, to settle, to build a community. All cities and villages flourish because more and more people gather within their borders.

And our Van der Linde Gang's factory has clearly met the fundamental conditions for people to gather, so opening stalls will undoubtedly attract even more people. When more people come, various necessary buildings will naturally be built: houses, shops, services. And this, Mr. Malloy, is the beginning form of a city."

Dutch paused, allowing his words to sink in, his gaze fixed on Malloy's wide, astonished eyes. "For a village to develop into a true city, it needs to have its own unique advantages, its own reason for being, and it also needs to be able to keep people here for a long time, to retain them, or rather, allow more people to come voluntarily and continuously. The livestock industry in Valentine is indeed very good, providing a stable if limited, livelihood.

But the livestock industry has a clear drawback: it won't attract people from outside the industry, nor will it make people stay here, which means Valentine lacks the fundamental foundation to develop into a bustling, prosperous city. This result is very bad, Sheriff Malloy. To stand still, to remain stagnant under the relentless wheels of the civilized age, will ultimately lead to self-imposed stagnation, to being left behind.

Therefore, for Valentine to develop further, to truly flourish, the economic center of the village needs to be shifted. And clearly, Hope Ranch, with its growing industry and loyal workforce, is a perfect target for this crucial shift."

Dutch leaned forward, his voice a low, intense whisper. "Being profitable and having a continuous stream of people coming—this is the very foundation for a city to form, Sheriff. This is also why I want to open the stalls. Valentine is my base, Mr. Malloy, and it is also your base. We prosper together, and we suffer together.

If Valentine can become Valentine City, a true urban hub, I think both our futures will be incredibly bright, beyond your wildest dreams! This is why I came here today, Mr. Malloy." Dutch's smile widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I imagine you wouldn't refuse to become the Mayor of Valentine City, would you, Sheriff? The first Mayor of a thriving metropolis?" Malloy's face, already pale, flushed with a sudden, overwhelming wave of ambition and delight.