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The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 14
Congratulations on spending $10,000,000+ in 12 hours! [Reward: +100 Steeze Points, +1000 Coins] [New Skill Unlocked: Shape Shifting] [Shape Shifting: Allows the user to mimic the appearance and mannerisms of others] Klaus’s lips curled into a slow, calculating grin. This was better than he expected. Now, he could become anyone. Stretching, he rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his newfound power settle over him. His mind was already strategizing as he finished a quick workout, then showered and dressed sharply. Today, Thera Hotel was his battlefield. It was time to take full control. As he strode through the supermarket section of his empire, none of the lower-level employees recognized him. To them, he was just another well-dressed businessman. But the higher-ups? They knew. The way they carried themselves—silent respect, careful words, subtle deference—set the tone for the entire building. Klaus smirked. This is only the beginning. ------ The ni
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 15
Allison and Duncan still hadn’t caught on, still oblivious to the tidal wave about to crash down on them. Klaus watched them bask in their own arrogance, their laughter scraping against his nerves like nails on glass. They thought they were untouchable. He let them. The steady rhythm of approaching heels against marble was the only warning before Cassandra arrived, her presence slicing through the room like a blade. The moment she saw Klaus, her sharp gaze flickered between him and the two unsuspecting fools, assessing the situation in seconds. The room stilled. Guests and staff alike turned their attention, sensing the shift in the air—the kind of quiet that always comes before the storm. Cassandra’s voice was crisp, cutting, carrying through the grand space with the weight of authority. "Mr. Whitlock, I sincerely apologize for this disturbance," she said smoothly. Then, without missing a beat, she turned to Allison and Duncan, her expression like polished steel. “May I
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 16
“Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Whitlock,” she said, lowering herself into her chair with practiced poise. “I understand you’re eager to get up to speed on the hotel’s operations.” She launched into a concise yet thorough report, her voice steady, her delivery precise. Occupancy rates. Marketing campaigns. Upcoming events. She presented spreadsheets and charts with methodical efficiency, illustrating revenue streams and expenditure breakdowns. Every word was chosen with care, every detail sharpened to perfection. Klaus listened without interruption, his gaze unwavering. He was fully engaged, far more invested than she had expected. He asked sharp, calculated questions, probing for weaknesses, dissecting figures with the ease of a man who had done this before. Finally, she placed the payroll report before him, a neatly compiled list of every employee and their respective salaries. “As you can see,” she explained, “the majority of our staff are paid competitive wages, reflec
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 17
He had a feeling that Randal was a petty man—territorial, controlling. Klaus had walked into his domain and walked out with a fortune. That kind of insult wasn’t forgotten easily. And now, Randal was making his move. The air in his office was still when he stepped inside. The man stood in the center of the room, arms loose at his sides, exuding a quiet kind of menace. Now that Klaus saw him up close, he noticed the ink curling up the side of his neck—a snake. Interesting. “You,” Klaus said, shutting the door behind him. The man smirked. “Me.” Klaus walked to his desk, keeping his movements casual. “You’ve been following me.” “I had to make sure you were worth my time.” Klaus tilted his head. “And?” The man reached into his jacket, pulling out a thin file. He tossed it onto the desk. “You tell me.” Klaus flipped it open. Documents. Reports. Some on him, some on the Thera Grand. A slow smile curved his lips. “Impressive.” The man moved in closer and said, "We're
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 18
They knew about his past—his true identity—and the secrets buried beneath the polished mask of Klaus Whitlock. Or so Jack thought. He was wrong. He was underestimating Klaus, and that would be his downfall. "I need time to think," Klaus said, his voice steady, almost eerily calm. His gaze locked with Jack’s, daring him to try and find even the faintest trace of fear in his eyes. There was nothing—only the cold, calculating resolve of a man who had spent years thinking three steps ahead. Jack’s eyes narrowed, his smile faltering just a fraction, but he quickly masked it. "How much time?" "Forty-eight hours," Klaus replied, his tone unwavering. "I need to consult with my… advisors." The lie slipped from his tongue so easily it was almost effortless. Advisors? He trusted only himself. Jack studied him, eyes cold and calculating, as though measuring the risk of granting this small concession. After a long pause, he nodded, the smile returning to his lips, though it no longer held
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 19
His system was a weapon he could wield, and that was all that mattered now. An idea, reckless but irresistible, formed in his mind. What if I use Luck Infuse to turn Megabucks Casino on its head? The thought flickered in his mind, daring him to act on it, to take control, to make the odds bend to his will. With a swift movement, he tapped the option for Luck Infuse, his finger hovering over the screen for a moment before he confirmed it. [User cannot use Luck Infuse on Multiple targets] Klaus blinked in surprise, his finger still poised above the device. Huh? He quickly processed the message, and then a wry smile crept onto his lips. Of course. It’s not a universal weapon. It needs focus. He muttered to himself, shifting in his chair as the reality of his situation settled in. This wasn’t a tool for broad manipulation; it was a precision instrument, meant to tip the scales in his favor, one target at a time. He paused for a moment, thinking about the name he had adopted for
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 20
Cassandra hesitated, glancing at her iPad for confirmation. "The owner is a holding company registered in the Hayman Islands, sir. But the main beneficiary is Victor Martel." The name struck Klaus like a lightning bolt. Victor Martel. A man whose name was spoken in hushed tones, a shadow that loomed over the underworld. Klaus had crossed paths with Martel before—back when he was running a logistics company before his incarceration. Martel had been a ghost in the city’s criminal elite, untouchable, with fingers in every pie and the police force in his pocket. Martel. The man was a king in his own right. But even kings could be toppled. And Klaus? He was done playing nice. "Martel," Klaus said softly, the name rolling off his tongue like a finely aged wine. He paused, savoring the taste of it. "Interesting. Add him to the list." The words were deliberate, as if Klaus were already plotting his next move in a game that stretched far beyond mere business. He rose from his seat, the
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 21
Then, the cup responded in a hoarse, mechanical voice: "You are being followed." In that instant, Jack froze, his body going rigid. His eyes darted around the warehouse, scanning for any signs of intrusion. Klaus felt a thrill of unease. This wasn’t ordinary behavior. Jack was too aware, too alert. Klaus had underestimated him. Jack’s attention snapped toward two figures lurking in the shadows—his gaze sharpening with unsettling precision. He had spotted the clones. Then something more bizarre happened. The snake tattoo coiling around Jack’s neck began to writhe, its scales glowing with an eerie, unnatural light. The tattoo expanded, crawling across his chest and arms, as if it were alive—pulsing, shifting, undulating. Jack’s eyes rolled back, turning a clouded white. Klaus felt a surge of adrenaline. This was beyond human. This was something else—something supernatural. It was unreal. Before he could process the full scope of what was happening, Jack moved. With an im
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CHAPTER 98
Her lips painted blood red. Her golden hair curled to cruel perfection. Reginald was gone. The room fell silent—except for the soft hum of hidden cameras. Allison crawled onto the bed like a predator in heat. “You’re so beautiful when you’re helpless,” she whispered, fingers trailing sensually along his jawline, down his chest, over his stomach. Klaus didn’t move. She leaned in and kissed him—long, slow, deliberate. Her hands explored him with performative lust, like an actress in a twisted play. Then, just as her fingers slid under the edge of his waistband, he stirred. Weakly. Convincingly. “W…why?” he rasped, his voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?” Allison paused—caught off guard. Then she laughed. It wasn’t joy. It was madness. “Because you deserve it,” she hissed, her breath hot against his cheek. “You dared to think you were untouchable. You rejected me. You humiliated my father. You walk around like the world belongs to you.” She leaned down and kis
Chapter 97
Klaus Whitlock lifted his hands slowly—deliberately—as if surrender were a kind of art form. His eyes glinted with a dangerous calm, and the corners of his lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile—more of a dare than a plea. The black-clad agents surrounding him hesitated for just a breath, caught in the tension of the moment, then surged forward like starving dogs unleashed upon prey. Let them tackle him. Let them beat him down. His smirk never wavered. Not even once. Boots slammed brutally into his ribs. A baton cracked hard across his shoulder. Someone drove a knee forcefully into the back of his neck. Klaus groaned—a sound that was pure performance. Beneath the chaotic blur of limbs, shouts, and violence, his fingers moved with elegant precision, dancing in the shadows. He slipped a phone from one of the agents—a sleek, cutting-edge model, no doubt encrypted and easily traceable. But Klaus didn’t care about the data. Not now. What mattered at this moment—was th
CHAPTER 96
Guiding him through what felt like an underground corridor—cold cement underfoot, the air damp and stale—Klaus allowed his captors to push him forward, his senses heightened, brain mapping every twist and turn. It wasn’t fear that gnawed at him—it was calculation. He was counting steps, memorizing patterns. Cataloging breathing rates. Not theirs—his. He heard a metal door creak open. A shove sent him stumbling forward. Then silence. Just him, the darkness, and the muffled thrum of a generator somewhere deep in the bowels of this forgotten place. Klaus remained still. Then slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hands—and tore the hood free. He was in a windowless room, dimly lit by a flickering overhead bulb. No camera. No visible guards. Cement walls, stale air. They’d made one critical mistake. They left him alone. A slow smirk curled on his lips. They didn’t know who they were dealing with. Klaus’s eyes shimmered faintly as he activated his Phantom Eyes. The room arou
CHAPTER 95
The naive, trusting fool who believed that loyalty meant safety—that if he gave his best to the world, it would not bite him back—was long gone. That man had been scorched, seared down to bone and breath by betrayal. His innocence had been bartered for silence. His trust, shattered beneath the boots of false allies and smiling traitors. What rose from those ashes wasn’t merely a man. It was a force. An inevitability. A presence carved from sharpened purpose and bound by unbreakable will. Klaus Whitlock had been reborn through fire and suffering, and now he stood—silent and cold as granite—ready to rewrite the rules that once caged him. He would finish what they started. He would reclaim what was his. He would make every last one of them bleed for it. The Thornes. Duncan. Allison. Reginald. Every sycophant and snake who had twisted a blade into his back, all while smiling sweetly to his face. They didn’t know what they had created. They didn’t understand that the
CHAPTER 94
"I want to seduce him," Allison said, her voice a slow, silken thread of malice that wound through the quiet between them. "Lure him into something... compromising. Maybe at one of those glittering afterparties the socialites love so much. Get him drunk enough—or reckless enough—to slip." The line crackled softly in the silence that followed, heavy with dark anticipation. "And then?" Reginald asked, his voice dipping into something rougher, something eager, as if tasting the possibilities she laid out. Allison didn't miss a beat. "Then we claim he raped me," she said, the words falling from her mouth like poison wrapped in honey. "We’ll have cameras in place. Photos, maybe even a hidden mic. Enough damning evidence to crush him—legally, publicly, financially." Her words drifted between them, thick and noxious, a dark mist that neither seemed eager to clear. "First," she continued, her voice gleaming with a twisted satisfaction, "we blackmail him. Bleed him dry. Drag it out,
CHAPTER 93
Klaus sat frozen, staring at the final message, the words blurring on the screen. His breath came shallow and sharp, fists balled so tightly his knuckles paled. That maybe Duncan had preyed on her loneliness, twisted her heart when she was weak. But the evidence screamed otherwise. The affair hadn’t started after he was arrested. It had begun long before — when Klaus still believed the world was something he could build, when he still looked at Allison and saw a partner instead of a liar. He had been a fool. A blind, trusting fool. The rage boiled up inside him, white-hot and blinding. He wanted to smash the laptop. To scream until his throat gave out. To punch the cheap hotel walls until his bones split open. But he sat there instead, breathing heavily, a storm raging under the surface, fists trembling with barely restrained fury. He saw her face in his mind — the soft smile, the worried eyes she wore when he was stressed — and all he could feel was sickened. Every kiss
CHAPTER 92
And until his system came back online, he would have to rely on his own skills and instincts alone. He crossed the suite silently, pulling the curtains shut and checking his phone. No new messages. No updates from the system. Alone in the quiet, dim room, Klaus sat by the window, watching the street below, his mind already racing ahead, planning his next move. Klaus sat on the edge of the hotel bed, his fingers moving deftly over Allison’s phone. He connected it to a discreet black device Richard Fitzgerano had given him months ago, during the chaos of the hotel scandal. The device was a marvel of clandestine technology — capable of silently combing through every shred of data on the phone: text messages, call logs, voice recordings, images, even hidden notes. All of it was being quietly siphoned, streamed in a time-based format straight into Klaus’s laptop. The faint hum of the device filled the room, blending with the muted noise of distant city traffic. Klaus leaned back in t
CHAPTER 91
The black van, monstrous and relentless, gave chase immediately, its front grill dented but very much operational. It was clear now — they weren’t interested in following him or intimidating him. They wanted him captured or worse. One hand on the wheel, Klaus grabbed his phone and quickly dialed the emergency number. His voice was steady despite the pounding of his heart. “I'm being chased," he said curtly as he took a sharp left turn, tires squealing. "Black van, license plate—" he glanced in his rearview mirror, barely catching the numbers through the blur, "—partial plate 67P5. I’m headed toward Eastbrook Avenue. Requesting immediate assistance." He ended the call without waiting for a response. He couldn’t afford to split his attention any further. Right now, every ounce of focus was needed to stay alive. The city around him turned into a maze of obstacles — honking cars, confused pedestrians, flickering neon signs. Klaus dodged in and out of lanes, slipping between a deli
CHAPTER 90
"This asshole insulted me after trying to hit on me!" Vanessa cried, crocodile tears welling up instantly. "I think you must have fallen on your head as a child," Klaus said, voice dripping with disdain. "To accuse me of hitting on you is laughable." Donavan’s jaw tightened, puffing himself up like a rooster ready to fight. "You got a big mouth for a nobody. Maybe you need a lesson in respect," Donavan said, cracking his knuckles. Klaus tilted his head slightly. A slight grin curved his lips. The atmosphere thickened, the energy in the casino crackling. It was about to be another headache. Before Donavan could lunge, Klaus’s demeanor changed. Like flipping a switch, Klaus unleashed the aura he normally kept locked down—a low, oppressive pressure that weighed on the mind and body, subtle yet unmistakable. Only those tuned to instincts felt it first. The nearby players shifted uncomfortably. Vanessa paled without knowing why. Klaus’s voice dropped into something silkier,
