Silas's textile factory was quickly established.
The gang leader Charle, through underworld connections, helped him find a textile factory whose owner was eager to sell.
The factory building, machinery, workers, and distribution channels were all ready-made.
It turned out the factory owner's son was addicted to horse racing and had borrowed from loan sharks, accumulating crushing debts.
Silas secretly intervened, settled things with the gang, rescued his imprisoned son, and cured the son's gambling addiction.
As compensation, the factory owner sold the textile factory to Silas at a relatively low price.
He would take this money and leave Backlund with his son, returning to their hometown to live.
Since the Aurora Order's properties couldn't be sold off quickly, Silas mortgaged all the deeds to Miss Audrey in exchange for over 10,000 pounds in cash.
Selling them slowly would certainly fetch more money, but how much she could resell them for would depend on her own abilities.
This money from Silas, combined with the investment Miss Audrey obtained from her father, together formed the factory's initial startup capital.
Thus the textile factory quickly resumed production.
Although he had never run a factory before, Silas wasn't worried about messing things up.
Using his Spectator pathway abilities, he had already screened all the factory's management and placed psychological suggestions on them.
These managers would remain loyal to him and execute his orders without question.
Being able to do this already far exceeded the capabilities of an ordinary factory owner.
These managers would completely follow his will in managing the workers and organizing production, and most of the people in Silas's flock also gained new means of livelihood.
"Father Preacher!"
"Good morning, Father Preacher!"
That morning, as Silas walked through the streets controlled by the Remann Gang, the "lambs" all greeted him enthusiastically when they saw him.
The streets here had become clean and orderly, forming a unique landscape in the muddy expanse of the East Borough.
There were no streetwalkers here, no thieves or con artists.
The gang controlling this area had replaced the police in maintaining order.
The stable environment attracted more people to settle here, and with more people came economic activity.
Charle was surprised to discover that through commercial taxes and rent collection, he was actually earning more than he had through illegal activities.
Although more people came to the neighborhood, aside from Silas's core flock, others didn't know that the true master behind this district was Silas.
They only thought that the Remann Gang's leader was quite capable and had brought stability and peace here.
"Good morning."
Silas smiled and nodded at the "lambs."
He could feel the purest dependence and respect in these people's eyes.
To these people, Father Preacher had not only saved their lives but also given them a way to live.
The textile factory had already recruited most of the flock, and after preliminary training, they could start work and earn money.
He didn't expect to make money from running the factory, but to maintain its proper operation, the wages given to workers were relatively low.
Even so, they were already much higher than what the previous factory owner and other peers in the industry offered.
Workers at other factories drained their blood and sweat on the machines, and the money they earned barely kept them alive.
But workers at Silas's textile factory could maintain survival through normal labor while having a little surplus, even though this was already what Silas considered quite harsh conditions.
It could only be said that he still had a shallow understanding of just how inhumane people could be.
So it was no wonder these lambs' attitude toward Silas was getting better and better.
William No. 3, Old Jack, Little Thomas...
Silas's eyes swept over these people's faces, easily recalling their names.
As these lambs' trust in him deepened, he could feel his connection with them at the soul level becoming increasingly solid.
Just like how a shepherd could accurately remember the appearance and habits of each sheep in his flock, he also grasped these people's situations.
At the same time, the Shepherd potion within him was being further digested.
This indicated that his acting was very much in line with the role.
"Father Preacher!"
A group of children heading to school spotted him and rushed over, interrupting his thoughts.
"Father, our teacher scolded me yesterday!"
"Father Preacher, please tell us more stories about the Lord!"
"Father..."
The children were like lively little birds, chirping incessantly around him.
Their eyes sparkled brightly, and they gave off a wheat fragrance, probably having just eaten breakfast.
"I'll tell you tonight," Silas said with a smile.
"Also, that's not storytelling, it's preaching, okay?"
Since the last time his preaching almost went wrong, he had learned his lesson.
Since mystical ramblings would attract who knows what, he changed to a more down-to-earth format.
So he began telling stories.
Fairy tales, fables, legends... classic stories from his previous life, after being localized and modified, were told to the lambs under the name of "preaching."
These wonderful stories easily captured people's attention, making his preaching more successful each time.
"Alright, go to school quickly now, or you'll be scolded for being late."
After chatting with the children for a few moments, Silas said to them gently.
"Okay!"
The children answered in drawn-out voices, then left in groups, occasionally roughhousing.
Silas smiled as he watched their retreating figures, then suddenly froze.
In a trance, he seemed to see a small figure holding his hand and smiling at him.
"Big brother."
It was an even earlier memory, a scene of little Cecilia leading him through the streets.
Back then, young Cecilia felt it was too pitiful that her brother was always confined at home, so she secretly took him out without their parents knowing.
Although they only got halfway before he fell into madness, for Silas at that time, it was already a very precious memory.
"..."
Silas's mind wavered, and madness and pain flashed across his face.
Ma'am M's phantom appeared behind him, stroking his back and waking him from his daze.
"Calm down. There are so many people here.
If you go mad, they'll become suspicious of you."
Her golden eyes reflected Silas's handsome but pale face.
"...I know."
After taking a few deep breaths and calming down, Silas answered in a low voice.
He quickly recovered the mysterious yet gentle demeanor he maintained before the lambs, smiled, and left the area.
Cecilia, wait just a little longer...
Stroking his chest, addressing the tightly protected, untouchable soul deep within his body, he said silently in his heart as he walked toward the street corner.
The thick winter fog spread, gradually swallowing his figure.