Live freely my minions

"Alright, Rain Falls," Dutch interjected, his voice smooth as silk, a subtle thread of command woven through its warmth. He watched with a benevolent smile as Rain Falls and Charles finally released their tightly clasped hands, a moment of unexpected, profound connection. "Let's go in. Since you two will be living and working here from now on, we need to discuss your arrangements, don't we?"

"As you command, Mr. Van der Linde," Rain Falls replied, his posture visibly, almost instinctively, lowering. He looked at Dutch, his face a mask of humble deference. He understood the unspoken rule: when one finds themselves under another's roof, one must, regrettably, act accordingly.

Dutch, however, didn't seem to mind Rain Falls's cautious subservience in the slightest. He merely smiled, a slight, dismissive wave of his hand, and led the way into the bustling heart of the factory.

"Rain Falls," Dutch began, his voice resonating with a practiced, almost hypnotic sincerity as they walked. "There's no need for such subservience. You are people, and I am a person. Our statuses are fundamentally equal; no one is superior here. You are simply working for me, a mutually beneficial arrangement. I always tell the workers in my factory one very important thing: everyone should have their own dignity, their own self-respect.

That, my friend, is the very foundation of human existence. Therefore, our relationship is one of complete equality; no one can be high and mighty, and no one needs to be subservient. This, Rain Falls, is my profound respect for you, and your respect for me. So, I truly hope you can treat this place as your home, and together, we will work to make it even better, even more prosperous."

Dutch spoke, not in the traditional sense of 'philosophizing,' but rather, in his own unique, highly effective method of brainwashing. To truly make someone obey your commands, he believed, you must first subtly, slowly, instill in them your outlook on life, your worldview, your values. You dangle principles that overtly benefit them, or at the very least, sound profoundly, undeniably correct upon hearing, thereby gaining their immediate, heartfelt approval.

This way, they will genuinely feel that what you say rings true, that it resonates with their deepest desires. They will listen attentively, analyze carefully, and then, through prolonged, almost imperceptible influence, they will begin to unconsciously approximate and agree with your core beliefs.

And once they agree with your core beliefs, they will naturally begin to view you as the undeniable leader, spontaneously feeling inferior to you, and then, with an almost religious fervor, they will spontaneously lower their own status to follow and implicitly agree with your every view.

As the old saying goes, 'Those with different paths do not conspire together.' Conversely, those with similar paths, once their paths converge, will naturally revere the one who has achieved what they only dream of. This way, you can cultivate a fiercely loyal follower whose ideas are perfectly aligned with yours, and who will continue to evolve and stubbornly entrench themselves even further in line with your grand, overarching vision.

This method, in modern parlance, is also known as ideological education, a subtle yet devastatingly powerful tool.

And now, Dutch was subtly, masterfully, conducting this very ideological education for Rain Falls and Flying Eagle.

Listening to Dutch's smooth, resonant words, Rain Falls and Flying Eagle were utterly, deeply moved. Mr. Dutch Van der Linde was truly a kind person, truly a wise man! Listen to his words; they were simply unbelievable!

Those damned capitalists and senators, they only thought about skinning and dismembering you, about sucking you dry! They were always high and mighty, looking down their noses at you – Rain Falls and Flying Eagle understood this brutal truth deeply, viscerally!

When they had delivered a humble letter to the mayor in Saint Denis, the man hadn't even bothered to respond; he had simply turned his back and casually tossed their desperate plea into the trash.

When they sought an audience with the arrogant senators in Saint Denis, those puffed-up figures had sat high on their platforms, lofty and disdainful of their words, even ignoring them completely when they pleaded on their very knees!

And now? Now, when they came to join the Van der Linde Gang, this Mr. Dutch Van der Linde not only warmly, genuinely accepted them but also told them, with a sincerity that brought tears to their eyes:

We are equal! You don't have to be subservient! You are also people, and you also have your own dignity! Damn it, they hadn't been treated as people for hundreds of years, but now Mr. Dutch Van der Linde, this improbable savior, gave them the very dignity of being human!

Rain Falls said nothing, but his ancient eyes had, unbeknownst to him, turned red, glistening with unshed tears. Flying Eagle silently followed behind Dutch and Rain Falls, his face held high, his jaw clenched, desperately trying not to let the tears in his own eyes fall, a fierce pride battling with overwhelming emotion.

Watching Mr. Dutch Van der Linde, who was walking ahead, speaking eloquently, his face radiating warmth and geniality, seeing the long lines of Indians queuing for meals in the distance, and the female workers laughing and playing during their lunch break, and then looking at the tribal children and women who had already received their food, their small faces still showing a bit of lingering fear but still eating bite by bite with a quiet desperation, Rain Falls's last trace of attachment to the past, his final shred of worry for the future, completely dissipated. Perhaps, following Mr. Van der Linde, was not just their best outcome, but their only outcome, a true salvation.

Rain Falls's steps inadvertently fell half a pace behind Dutch, a subtle, unconscious shift. His attitude became even more respectful, almost reverent, and he listened with rapt attention whenever Dutch began to speak, hanging on his every word. And Flying Eagle, trailing behind the two, kept his eyes fixed, almost hypnotized, on Mr. Dutch Van der Linde, a new, fervent light in his gaze.

"See, Charles, this is Dutch," Hosea murmured, nudging Charles's arm. They had deliberately lagged at the end of the line, allowing Dutch his moment with the new arrivals. Hosea gazed at Dutch, who was walking ahead, smiling, talking, performing his magic. "This is why we follow him. So, my boy, we must take all of Dutch's tasks to heart. I believe he can make our gang better and better, stronger and our family bigger!"

Charles's face was utterly suffused with emotion. He nodded vigorously, his voice earnest and full of conviction.

"Yes, I think this is precisely why I chose the Van der Linde Gang. Dutch is completely, utterly different from all of them! And now, I truly believe Dutch is worth following with my life! He's the only one."

"Good boy!" Hosea patted Charles's shoulder, a profound sense of satisfaction blooming within him. This old swindler, who had charmed and tricked others his whole life, had, after just one fateful encounter with Dutch, found himself 'tricked' right back, drawn into Dutch's orbit. Perhaps this, too, was a kind of fate, a poetic justice.

Meanwhile, Dutch, oblivious to the quiet bonding behind him, had already begun his grand tour, showing Rain Falls and Flying Eagle around the bustling factory.

"Rain Falls," Dutch explained, gesturing towards a newly constructed batch of sturdy wooden houses in the distance, "those large buildings over there will be your future residences. We will not be involved in any of your internal management, so you will need to handle all related organizational issues yourselves. Of course, we do require that the living quarters be kept clean; that is a non-negotiable factory rule. As for your wages, they will be calculated strictly according to our factory's established rates. Our elderly people can do light cleaning, earning a respectable fifteen dollars a month. Garment workers earn a solid twenty-five dollars a month. Our transporters, the hardy souls, earn thirty dollars a month. And our gunmen, the true protectors, earn a hundred dollars a month.

The factory, of course, provides all food and lodging, including for the children of the tribe, and will also provide a certain amount of tobacco and alcohol daily. So, I think your life here will be very, very comfortable."

Currently, Hope Ranch boasted a dizzying array of housing and factory sheds, a testament to its rapid expansion. A new batch of one hundred sewing machines, purchased some time ago, had recently arrived and were now humming in their brand-new factory building. The 'Van der Linde Garment Factory' was now a renowned establishment, famous throughout several surrounding states. After all, with a workforce nearing two thousand souls, its monthly output far exceeded that of any other smaller garment factory in the region.

(Things such as assembly lines were invented in the 40s or 50s, if my memory is correct)

However, even with this impressive scale, it still hadn't reached the peak of current demand. There was simply no helping it; the new clothing lines from the 'VDL' Clothing Store were simply too popular, igniting the fame of the entire enterprise. This meant that various wholesale merchants and eager customers buying clothes queued up daily, a seemingly endless line of eager buyers.

The clothing business was inherently a livelihood industry, and any amount of production, no matter how vast, could be absorbed, especially in this era of lower productivity. Therefore, they could still expand, and indeed, must expand.

Listening to Dutch's generous words, Rain Falls repeatedly waved his hands in protest, a gesture of profound humility. "Too much, Mr. Van der Linde, too much! Food and lodging are already more than enough. Being able to simply live here… that is already so much better than before, so…" His voice trailed off, overcome.

His words were interrupted by Dutch, who placed a firm, yet gentle hand on Rain Falls's shoulder. "No, Rain Falls," Dutch said, his voice imbued with a quiet, unyielding conviction. "Everyone has the right to pursue happiness! You work for me, and I, in turn, should give you a happy life! Although you may believe that being able to simply live here is already happy enough, I ask you, Rain Falls: why can't you be even happier? Why can't you know true, overflowing joy?"

"Mr. Van der Linde…" Rain Falls whispered, utterly, completely moved. Tears, finally, fell from Flying Eagle's eyes, tracing clean paths through the dust on his cheeks.

Why can't you be happier? The question echoed in their hearts, a revelation. So, why not surrender completely to Mr. Dutch Van der Linde? He was the man who had personally, unequivocally, delivered happiness into their trembling hands!