“Dragon’s Might” surged forth like a wave, and “Giant” Ozil and his men simultaneously shuddered as if struck by a massive hammer.
Suddenly, some of them bolted in all directions, some fled without aim, some spun in circles on the spot, while others stood frozen trembling all over—reactions varied, differing from one to another.
Unlike the previous urgency where he had to race against time, fearing that “Silver-tongued” Misor might recover, Klein now had the leisure to observe the entire scene and grasp the situation in an instant:
“The different reactions are based on differences in mental strength and resilience. The weakest and most ordinary ones run; among normal humans, those with stronger wills flee aimlessly; Beyonders with enhanced spirituality and ordinary people with fairly firm will mainly spin in circles—they want to run but can initially restrain themselves; Beyonders with considerable strength or mental fortitude combine standing frozen and trembling with spinning in circles.
“Those who are scared shitless belong to the fleeing and hiding type…”
Klein swept his gaze and was about to raise his revolver to disable enemies that could threaten him.
At that moment, he noticed that one man, frozen and trembling, had a clear look in his eyes, as if he was about to shake off the effect of intimidation, and several others were also showing signs of recovery.
Considering that he couldn’t deal with them all at once, that a gunshot could easily wake some of them, and that combinations of different abilities among different Beyonders could harm him, Klein shifted his thoughts and let the glove on his left hand take on a sinisterly shimmering black hue.
His eyes suddenly turned deep and dark, and he forcefully “twisted” the intentions of those who were waking up.
The trembling man suddenly lunged sideways, his urge to flee becoming uncontrollable, and he dashed straight for the secret exit, leaving his employer “Giant” Ozil with a shrinking back view.
Klein quickly switched between “Psychiatrist” and “Corrupt Baron,” following “Dragon’s Might” with “Twist,” then “Dragon’s Might” again, and then “Twist” again, soon expelling several of Ozil’s guards with strong or resilient minds from the underground area.
Although “Creeping Hunger” couldn’t compare to a genuine “Shepherd” and switching between different souls required a certain cooldown, Klein managed the rhythm very well, and with the residual effect of “Dragon’s Might,” he easily achieved his goal.
However, he also noticed a problem: for some targets, if they were repeatedly affected by “Dragon’s Might” within a short period, the “stun” effect became weaker and weaker. Of course, most of “Giant” Ozil’s subordinates, after being stacked with “Dragon’s Might,” had now collapsed to the ground, soiling themselves with urine and feces, emitting a foul stench.
“The combination of ‘Dragon’s Might’ and ‘Twist’ is really nice… If Misor hadn’t thought about counterattacking earlier but instead used ‘Bribe‑Weaken’ and ‘Twist’ to forcibly escape, I might not have been able to catch up and kill him. Hmm, his counterattack was also fierce—hardly any warning beforehand. If it weren’t for the fact that ‘Fortune Teller’ and ‘Jester’ rely on spirituality and premonitions, I might not have had time to use a Paper Substitute, let alone dodge.
“This reminds me that even with the combat power of Sequence 5 thanks to ‘Creeping Hunger,’ I shouldn’t underestimate other Sequence 6s; one slip-up and I could be killed instead…”
Amidst his thoughts, Klein made his glove appear as if cast from gold, and in his eyes suddenly flashed two bolts of lightning.
“Giant” Ozil let out a shrill cry, unable to support himself any longer, and collapsed to the ground like a crumbling mountain, clutching his head and writhing in pain like a freshly caught catfish.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a ranged attack-type extraordinary ability; otherwise, those Beyonders could have stayed… I remember that within “Sea King’s” domain there’s “Lightning Storm”… But that kind of talisman is too advanced, beyond my current knowledge… Klein swept his eyes over the thugs lying on the ground and walked unhurriedly into the underground area.
This place had originally been a trading market, but now those who could had fled, leaving it empty.
Dressed in a black double-breasted long coat, Klein took a chair from behind a stall, placed it in front of Ozil, sat down leisurely, leaned forward, and silently stared at the owner of the Fragrant Leaf Bar.
Ozil rolled around for a while before finally recovering from the near-loss-of-control pain, but his head still felt as if it might split open.
Just as he was about to straighten up and stand, he suddenly saw a pair of eyes with a very light color reflecting gold, and a glove covered in dark golden scales.
In that instant, his forehead still covered with cold sweat, he felt as if from within those eyes countless whirlpools appeared, sucking in all of his mind.
Klein asked in a calm voice:
“Were you a pirate before?”
“Yes.” Ozil found himself very eager to answer that question.
This was “Psychological Suggestion”!
Klein asked again, his tone unchanged:
“What crimes against the kingdom’s laws have you committed?”
Ozil didn’t hide anything and briefly recounted some of the things he had done as a pirate and as the owner of the Fragrant Leaf Bar, including during the looting of passenger liners, insulting female passengers, killing innocents, and also, to eliminate competitors, kidnapping their families and setting up ambushes to send the whole family to the bottom of the sea.
Klein listened quietly, slowly curled up the corners of his mouth, and clapped his left hand on his right as he said:
“A true pirate, a qualified mob boss.”
Amid his praise, he extended his left palm, and on the thin human skin, a ferocious mouth suddenly split open.
In the underground area, a scream that grew shriller and shriller echoed, but it lasted only a few seconds before abruptly stopping, leaving only a lingering echo.
Klein sat on the chair, quietly watching the bright light points slowly gather before him.
Around him, the thugs who had been scared into incontinence and were only cowering instinctively moved farther away, leaving trails of filth on the ground.
After a while, Klein slowly stood up, bent over, and picked up the pure, bright ball about the size of an infant’s fist, as well as the wallet from inside Ozil’s clothes.
Glancing at the thickness of the banknotes, he put away both items, holstered his revolver, took off his half-high silk hat, and bowed to the thugs hiding in the corner, trembling.
Having done all this, Klein inspected the underground area, regretting not finding a safe or any such items, so he returned to the passageway, picked up the corpse of “Silver-tongued” Misor Gold, and walked to the entrance.