The black "spirit body threads" from different lives appeared in Klein's eyes, but he did not immediately extend his own spirituality to try to manipulate them.
After distinguishing and confirming which "spirit body threads" belonged to Mossona, he took a gulp of malt beer and focused on enjoying the boxing match on the ring, like a real spectator.
The two boxers were bare-chested, without any protective gear, and fought desperately. They collided constantly, punch to punch, and the situation quickly became intense.
Many of the drunk and gambling onlookers were pumped with adrenaline, frantically shouting the name of the boxer they supported, and yelling: "Kill him!"
"Beat that son of a bitch!"
On the second floor, Mossona also forgot the cigar in his hand, staring intently at the ring below, with one hand already clenched into a fist.
The people around him, except for the bodyguards who were responsible for guarding suspicious people and important areas like the roof and downstairs, so they had to turn their backs to him, inevitably focused their attention on the thrilling boxing match.
Klein raised his hand again, took a gulp of beer, and seemed to be out of breath due to the tense atmosphere.
At this moment, his spirituality quietly spread out, grasping the illusory black lines corresponding to Mossona.
One second, two seconds, three seconds... Mossona with the red nose just wanted to move his fist slightly, as if he were fighting in the ring, but suddenly his head felt numb.
He only felt that the surrounding scene suddenly became strange, as if several layers of thick glass had been added.
Mossona then found that his thoughts were obviously sluggish, and all the parts in his head seemed to have suddenly rusted.
Because the target was just an ordinary person, with a spiritual body far inferior to that of an extraordinary person, Klein did not need 20 seconds to initially control him.
7 seconds!
Only 7 seconds!
Damn... something's wrong... it should be... an extraordinary person... with special... abilities... Mossona, who often interacted with pirates, was no stranger to the mysterious world, so he spent a lot of money to hire extraordinary people to protect himself. If he hadn't destroyed his body early with wine and women, leading to weak spirit and poor condition, and would likely lose control if he took the magic potion, he would have wanted to directly obtain that supernatural power.
At this moment, because of sluggish thoughts and inexperience, Mossona took more than ten seconds to realize that he was under attack. He immediately reached out his arm and opened his mouth to try to call for help.
However, his movements were so slow, the sound in his throat so weak, and the bodyguards around him were focused on the tense and exciting boxing match, with the shouts of the audience rising wave after wave, while the outer guards were all focused on possible attack points. The obvious abnormality of the employer who was not in heavy protection was thus overlooked.
When the climax of the match subsided for a while, and some bodyguards and subordinates looked back at the boss, they could only see that Mossona's eyes seemed a bit dull, his hands were in weird positions, as if he were still immersed in the boxing match, anxiously waiting for the final result.
Tears welled up in the underworld boss's eyes, and he tried hard to loosen his fingers, wanting to drop the cigar and attract attention.
But he found in despair that his thoughts were getting slower and stiffer, and a simple action seemed to take more than a minute to complete, and his fingers were still resisting his thoughts!
Pop!
The burning cigar finally fell to the floor, and Mossona's tears slid down his face and onto his neck.
Several bodyguards noticed this and were about to ask if the boss was too excited because of the match, when Mossona suddenly bent down, wiped his face, and picked up the cigar.
"This match is good! Give the final winner extra money!" Mossona flicked the cigar, pulled his collar, and a smile curved on his lips.
He didn't say how much extra money, because Klein had no idea about the market, so he had to make a vague statement.
Yes, Mossona of the "New Rune Party" had become his puppet!
Because this underworld boss was just an ordinary person, with a spiritual body even weaker than that of a healthy normal person, so it only took two minutes and fifteen seconds!
If it had taken a bit longer, he would have had to distract himself by using illusions to create chaos, so that the bodyguards would only care about protecting Mossona and wouldn't have time to notice his abnormality.
"Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
...
The shouts of the audience suddenly became uniform, and the match in the ring entered its final stage. Mossona also signaled the bodyguards to continue watching.
When one boxer fell unconscious, Mossona took a puff of his cigar and said: "Go to the room.
"I need to rest."
"Yes, boss." His bodyguards and subordinates immediately clustered around him, entered the second-floor corridor, and helped him open the door to the rest room.
After instructing the guards to guard all key positions and not to disturb him, Mossona paced back and forth a few times, opened the safe, found documents related to the new drugs, and selected the most important ones.
Then, he put these documents and a note with an address cut from a newspaper, along with all 758 pounds in cash, into a document bag.
With a creak, he opened the door and called a subordinate: "Throw this bag under the third lamppost on the corner."
"Yes, boss." His subordinate didn't ask why.
This is the rule!