Would You Be My Lamb?

East Borough, an area effectively controlled by the Lyman Gang, early morning.

"Oliver! Get up! It's your turn to assist Your Excellency Missionary today!"

Oliver was awakened by his roommate's energetic shouts. He opened his eyes in the warm blankets and slowly came to his senses.

Where am I?

It wasn't the thin, cold, tattered blankets of an orphanage, nor were there any other children kicking at me; it wasn't the cramped storage room of a cleaning company either. There was no dripping water from the ceiling, nor large patches of mold or unpleasant odors.

Ah, yes.

Oliver finally remembered.

I have already left those places.

"Oliver, hey, did you hear that?!"

The boy who woke him raised his voice.

"I'm awake, Charlie."

Oliver answered, sitting up straight.

His room had three bunk beds, filling the space completely, with only one aisle in between. Although it couldn't compare to a decent home, these living conditions were like paradise to him.

The boys on the other beds had also gotten up and were chattering away as they got dressed.

"You're too slow,"

The boy standing in the aisle looked a bit older Oliver. He was already dressed and holding his toiletries. "I have to do chores today, so I won't wait for you. Remember to be on time!"

After saying that, he ran to the public restroom outside.

By the time Oliver finished dressing, almost everyone else in the room had already left, so he had to wash up by himself.

"Hmm"

The cold water from the bathroom splashed on his face, completely Consciousness him up.

Your Excellency Missionary provided a very good life for everyone, but the only thing that made people feel a little uncomfortable was the abundance of rules. They had to be very hygienic, keeping their own bodies and the surrounding area clean, washing their hands before meals, not being allowed to drink tap water, and even queuing for everything.

After washing up, Oliver hurried downstairs. The streets outside were clean, with no Mire or trash on the pavement, unlike anything he'd seen in the East Borough. Several children were carrying cleaning tools and doing some cleaning work.

Oliver saw his roommate Charlie, who had woken him up, wielding a broom and cleaning diligently.

A group of people emerged from nearby buildings, all heading in the same direction and gradually converging. Before he could even greet Charlie, Oliver followed the crowd to a small Square. There, several lines had already formed. People, holding bowls and spoons, were taking turns to receive their breakfast soup and bread.

Some of them also wore a wooden plaque with their portrait on it on their wrist. Those with the plaque received an extra portion of food compared to the others.

Oliver was not the only one rescued from despair by His Your Excellency the Missionary.

Bankrupt individuals, homeless people, the sick, orphans, prostitutes—he generously accepted them all, making them part of his sanctuary. The hungry received food, the homeless found shelter, and even homeless children like them were given opportunities to receive an education.

Good heavens!

They're not children from noble families, yet they still have to learn to read!

Of course, everyone knew it was for their own good. Even though the teacher was a senile, down-on-his-luck old man who didn't explain things very clearly, they were still very grateful.

People walked forward in order, the aroma of hot soup emanating from the large tubs bringing a sense of comfort. The Missionary Your Excellency too kind to them, giving them enough food to fill their stomachs, and even the missionary work was abruptly halted after only one session.

Oliver received his portion, quickly finished eating, returned the utensils, and hurried to the other side of the Square.

He quickly walked to a building where a line had already formed outside.

"Excuse me."

Oliver spoke to the people, head down, and followed the line all the way to the room at the finish line.

Your Excellency, a respected Missionary was waiting for him.

"Your Excellency Missionary, I am very sorry I am late."

He apologized, clearly feeling uneasy.

"It's alright."

The other person spoke gently, then looked up at the person at the front of the line, "Let's begin."

What's your name?

Luther's eyes gleamed with golden light as he asked.

"Jack, sir, my name is Jack."

The old man opposite him answered blankly.

What's your last name?

"I don't know, sir."

The latter honestly shook his head.

Oliver, register him as Jack 6.

Luther said helplessly.

This indicates that Jack is the sixth person to be named "Jack" without a surname.

"Yes, Your Excellency Missionary."

The child behind me struggled to write his childish words on a form and then wrote the same name on a sign.

Luther took the sign, picked up a pen, and muttered a prayer.

"Swish swish!"

His eyes quickly turned completely black, and he wielded the pen with lightning speed, sketching the old man's appearance on the wooden sign. This was a simplified version of Ritual Magic, achieved through the abilities of the Secrets Suppliant and the Spirituality of Sequence 5.

Jack, where is your hometown?

Your family situation

"Previous beliefs."

Luther asked several questions, all of which were answered, and then continued to ask:

"Jack, what have you done before?"

"I was a tenant farmer of the lord, but later he turned the farmland into pasture and no longer needed us, so I had to come to Backlund to live. I've been working as a dockworker ever since, and half of my wages have to be given to the foreman."

Have you ever done anything illegal?

"Peeped at the barmaid and the customer in the room"

"Alright."

Luther interrupted him, knowing there was a child next to him and it wouldn't be good for him to hear.

"Next question, please answer carefully." He looked directly into the other person's eyes. "Answer me from the bottom of your heart: are you willing to be my Lamb?"

"Willing."

The older man spoke from the bottom of his heart.

As his words fell, an invisible connection was formed between them.

"Why?"

"Because it's only here that I've had a full meal."

"."

Luther paused for a moment, then looked at the little boy diligently Record beside him, "Have you memorized everything?"

"I don't know many words."

Oliver answered, bowing his head.

In his view, Your Excellency Missionary seemed to possess a mysterious and unpredictable ability, and those who faced him would involuntarily speak the truth.

"Give it to me."

Luther took the Record, added the words he hadn't written down, drew the old man's face on the paper, and then handed the wooden plaque to the other person.

"Here you go."

"Ah? Yes!"

The old man seemed to snap out of a daze, and seeing the wooden plaque in his hand, he was overjoyed. With this plaque, he could get an extra piece of black bread when collecting food, and an extra small piece of bacon each week. Although he couldn't remember what he had just said, at least he had this plaque, making his long wait in line worthwhile.

"Next one can come in."

Luther continued shouting outside, and the next person in the group immediately came in.

He wasn't doing this for fun; he was building files for the Lamb.

A qualified Shepherd must have a good understanding of his Flock; only by knowing the information about each Lamb can he Grazing more smoothly.

To put it bluntly, it's all about Acting.

The missionary Acting, Church connect him to an unknown entity, had to be abandoned, so he had to choose another method. And sure enough, as he used extra food as bait to lure the Lamb to register, he could feel the Potion indeed beginning to work.

Thank you to the reader "Pope of the Tarot Club" for the 100 Qidian Coins.