683 So You Are Here as Well (1/2)

Black Spirit Body Threads that stemmed from different lifeforms appeared in Klein's vision, but he didn't immediately extend his spirituality to attempt to control them.

After distinguishing and confirming which Spirit Body Threads belonged to Molsona, he gulped a mouthful of malt bear as he began to focus on the boxing match in the ring, just like a real member of the audience.

The two boxers had their tops bare and didn't wear any protective gear. They fought all-out, constantly clashing with each other as fist met flesh, and the situation quickly escalated to a fervor.

Many of the alcoholic gamblers had adrenaline pumping through them as they shouted for the boxer they supported passionately, yelling, ”Kill him!”

”Finish that son of a b*tch!”

On the second floor, Molsona also forgot the cigar in his hand as he was fixated on the ring below, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

Apart from those who had to have their backs facing him because they were keeping tabs on any suspicious people or watching the important regions such as the rooftop or area beneath, the people around him couldn't help but have their eyes peeled to the intense boxing match.

Klein raised his hand again, gulping a mouthful of beer as though he was out of breath from the tense atmosphere.

At this moment, his spirituality silently extended and grabbed onto the illusory black threads corresponding to Molsona.

One second, two seconds, three seconds… The brandy-nosed Molsona was just about to pump his fist a little as though he was in the ring himself when he suddenly found his brain go numb.

He felt the surroundings abruptly turn odd, as though several panes of glass were in between him and them.

Molsona immediately discovered that his thoughts had clearly slowed down, as though all the parts in his brain had suddenly rusted.

As the target was only an ordinary person whose Spirit Body was far inferior to that of a Beyonder, Klein took less than twenty seconds to achieve initial control over him.

Seven seconds!

All it took was seven seconds!

Oh no… Something wrong is happening… It's likely… a Beyonder… with relatively… special powers… Molsona, who often interacted with pirates, was no stranger to the mysterious world. It was why he spent large sums of money to hire Beyonders to protect himself. If he hadn't long destroyed his body with sex and alcohol, making his psyche relatively weak and his condition terrible, giving him a high chance of losing control if he were to consume a potion, he would've also wished to obtain supernatural powers himself.

At that moment, as his thoughts were slowing down and due to his lack of experience, Molsona spent more than ten seconds to figure out that he was under assault. He immediately reached out his arm and opened his mouth in an attempt to shout for help.

However, his actions were extremely slow, and his voice was weak. With a number of his bodyguards around him engrossed in the exciting and nerve-wracking boxing match, and the audience's roaring in an ever-increasing crescendo, as well as all the guards along the perimeter putting their attention on any possible attack locations to protect their employer, his obvious abnormality ended up being neglected.

When the climax of the match received a temporary respite, a number of bodyguards and subordinates turned to look back at their boss, and they saw that his eyes appeared somewhat in a daze. His hands didn't seem to be in the right place as if he was still caught up in the match, anxiously awaiting the final results.

The corners of the mob boss's eyes had tears welling up as he tried hard to release his fingers to drop the cigar to attract the attention of his subordinates, but he discovered in despair that his line of thought was becoming highly impeded and stiff. Even a simple action needed more than a minute to complete, and his fingers were even resisting his will!

Pa!

The burning cigar finally fell to the ground as Molsona's tears flowed down to his neck across his cheeks.

A few bodyguards discovered this and were just about to ask their boss if it was because the match was too exciting when Molsona suddenly bent down. As he wiped his face, he picked up the cigar.

”That was an excellent match! Give the victor more money!” Molsona flicked the cigar and pulled up his collar as he grinned happily.

He didn't say exactly how much was to be given, as Klein didn't know the market rates. All he could do was give a vague comment.

Yes, Molsona of the Loen's New Party had already become his marionette!

As this mob boss was only an ordinary person, and his Spirit Body was even weaker than most healthy humans, all it took was two minutes and fifteen seconds!

If the time needed was any longer, he would've had to divert his attention to create an illusion to create some chaos, making the bodyguards place their attention on protecting Molsona and not being able to discover his abnormality in time.

”Kill him!”

”Kill him!”

…

The shouts of the audience suddenly turned uniform as the match in the ring came to its end. Molsona also allowed his bodyguards to continue watching the match.

When a boxer collapsed to the ground unconscious, Molsona took a swig of his cigar and said, ”To the lounge.

”I want to take a break.”

”Yes, Boss.” His bodyguards and subordinates immediately surrounded him, escorted him to the corridor on the second floor, and helped him open the door to the lounge.

After instructing his guards to guard different critical spots and to not disturb him, Molsona paced around and opened a safe. He found documents involving all kinds of new drugs and selected the most important ones.

Following that, he placed the documents and an address he cut from the newspapers, as well as a total of 758 pounds in cash into a briefcase.

With a creak, he opened the door and called for a subordinate.

”Throw this bag under the third street lamp around the alley.”

”Yes, Boss.” The subordinate didn't inquire why.

This was a rule!

After closing the door again, Molsona found three candles and items with spirituality and used a pen and paper to carefully draw the corresponding symbol of The Fool—a half Pupil-less Eye which represented secrecy, and the Contorted Lines which represented change.