2025-03-31 05:23:50
Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 33
The migraine he had felt brewing earlier now threatened to split his skull. ********* Klaus woke up to a sunny Friday morning and checked the details of the fundraising party invitation. To his surprise, the event was set on an island, accessible only by boat or plane. Just then, he received an update about his mission. [Mission: Spend just 400 million dollars and earn a title based on your spending choices.] [Penalty: Lose all your money.] [Reward: Instantly upgrade one skill.] As he gazed out the window, watching an airplane soar by, an idea sparked in his mind. Meanwhile, Cassandra was in a meeting with executives on his behalf, so he decided to call Harriet. "Do you know any private jet brokers or Fixed Base Operators?" Klaus inquired. "Yes, there's one on the outskirts of Flagstone City called LuxSky and Marine Agency. I'll text you the address," Harriet replied. Within seconds, Klaus received the address via SMS. "Do you want me to come with you?" Harriet asked, he
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 34
"You know, Jennifer and the girls haven’t made it any easier. ‘Oh, Allison, the whole city knows you and Duncan were liars. Are you even able to show your face in public?’ ‘If only your boyfriend could get you on a yacht—at least then you could disappear for a while.’" Her smirk faltered for just a moment, bitterness flashing in her eyes before she masked it with a light laugh. "I hate how they say it, like I’ve already lost. Like I don’t still have control over my own narrative." Smith’s jaw tensed at her words, but he chuckled, tightening his grip on his drink. "Well, now they’ll see. When they step onto that yacht with you, they’ll know exactly who you are—and that you’re still standing." Allison’s smile widened, something fierce burning behind her gaze. "Exactly. This isn’t just a getaway—it’s a power move. A statement. And you made it possible." Klaus Whitlock leaned casually against a wall, a knowing smirk played on his lips as he listened, his sharp eyes watching Alliso
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 35
"Hmph, you should be grateful I saved you from embarrassing yourself in front of your girlfriend. I know you can't afford a luxury yacht like this," Smith retorted, sizing Klaus up. Looking at Klaus, he started to take notice of his facial features—the slicked-back red hair, neatly trimmed goatee, perfectly carved eyebrows, sharp ice-blue eyes, and his towering height of almost six feet, making Smith feel insignificant in comparison. "And you can?" Klaus shot back, raising an eyebrow. "Absolutely. I’m Smith Hunt. My brother's name is Ethan Hunt, the Zonal Director of Chimera Bank. I own a Diaspora fashion company and several other businesses. A pretty boy like you, who has never seen real wealth, wouldn’t understand my influence," Smith declared loudly, brimming with arrogance. Klaus chuckled lightly, as if he were watching a clown perform, and felt a strong urge to give Smith a hard knock on his obtuse head full of short blond hair. "I don’t care who you are or what you own; y
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 36
Feeling utterly humiliated, Smith let out a grunt of pure rage and stormed off, shoving past the bystanders who were still chuckling at his misfortune. Meanwhile, Allison, seeing her chance, quietly slinked away from the scene, vanishing into the crowd. Klaus, however, stood completely unbothered, his gaze shifting toward the auctioneer. “I’ll take this other yacht too,” he said, his voice carrying an effortless authority. The auctioneer, still stunned by the scene, quickly gathered himself and nodded. “Excellent choice, sir. That will be $50 million.” Klaus simply nodded, and a system notification flickered in his vision: [Transaction Complete: -$82,000,000] [Remaining Balance to Spend: $318,000,000] But Klaus wasn’t done. He turned to a separate section of the lot where a private jet gleamed under the sun, an absolute masterpiece of engineering and luxury. The Dassault Falcon 10X, a state-of-the-art business jet, priced at a staggering $175 million, caught his eye. “I
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 37
Klaus leaned forward slightly, his voice smooth but firm. “Then I propose a solution. Increase the pressure. Make it clear that unless they settle their debt in three days, they risk being swallowed whole by a larger entity.” Laurent raised an eyebrow. “And if they go scrambling for an investor to save them?” Klaus’s smirk widened. “I’ll be waiting with open arms. I’ll offer them salvation—on my terms.” Laurent let out a low whistle. “That’s quite the play, Mr. Whitlock. Ruthless and effective. Why the sudden interest in DHL Logistics?” Klaus finished his drink and stood, extending a hand. “I have a keen interest in acquiring struggling companies. So please, see it through. I trust you can handle your end.” Laurent considered for a moment before gripping Klaus’s hand firmly. “Consider it done. I look forward to seeing how this unfolds. And perhaps, this could be the start of a valuable friendship.” Klaus smiled, amiable yet calculating. “I’ll hold you to that.” --- As K
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 38
"And now you’re here pretending to be rich? There’s no way you can afford this house. I’d advise you to stop embarrassing yourself and leave before you make a fool of yourself." Harriet’s fists clenched at Monroe’s audacity, but Klaus remained composed, a slow, knowing smirk forming on his lips. "And what price are you negotiating?" Klaus asked, his voice eerily calm. Monroe puffed out his chest. "Twenty million. Of course, I’m working out a deal to bring it down a notch, but the agent knows I’m serious." Klaus let a beat of silence pass. Then, with the ease of someone ordering coffee, he said, "I’ll take it. Full price along with the two smaller houses beside it. No negotiation. One hundred and fifty million dollars. Keep the change." The air shifted. The agent’s eyes widened. Monroe’s smirk froze before disintegrating into disbelief. "O-One hundred and fifty million?" the agent stammered. "Are you certain, sir?" Klaus gave a small, knowing smile. "I believe I said that
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 39
Klaus sensed that this title ability was far from straightforward, and he experienced a warm sensation in his palms before it faded away. As they drove away in the newly purchased Rolls-Royce, Harriet stared at the city lights flashing past, wondering just what game her boss was playing—and who the next fool would be to underestimate him. The night before the event, Klaus received an unexpected call. The voice on the other end was smooth, confident, and tinged with a European lilt. "Mr. Whitlock," she purred. "This is Isabella Rossi. I believe we share an interest—Mega Bucks Casino. As fellow shareholders, I think it’s only right that we get acquainted, i want to know you." Klaus leaned back in his chair, intrigued. Isabella Rossi was a name he was familiar with—one of the principal owners of the casino empire. Mysterious, cunning, and known for getting what she wanted. "I assume you have a proposition?" Klaus asked, swirling the bourbon in his glass. A soft chuckle. "Just
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 40
Klaus watched as the golden egg was revealed, gleaming under the chandelier lights. At the same moment, his system bank account flashed before his eyes—funds flowing in real time from his businesses. The casino earnings, restaurant profits, supermarket revenue, and hotel income all funneled seamlessly into his growing wealth. The auction hall pulsed with an electric tension, an undercurrent of unspoken rivalries and veiled ambitions. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the opulent crowd, illuminating fortunes that had stood for generations. The scent of aged whiskey and expensive perfume mingled in the air, a testament to the excesses of the elite. Klaus Whitlock sat with the practiced ease of a man who belonged, yet refused to conform. His sharp gaze skimmed the room, calculating, assessing. The golden egg was unveiled under the chandelier's brilliance, its polished surface gleaming with promise. A fortune contained in an object—a mere symbol to some, but a statement of
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 100
Klaus lay on the ground, motionless, his body pale and smeared with dirt and dried blood. A young officer knelt beside him, touched his neck—then frowned. “He’s got a pulse… and breathing. He’s alive!” “What?!” Reginald’s eyes widened in disbelief. He was shot—he should be dead. How? The officer helped Klaus sit up. To everyone’s astonishment, Klaus slowly opened his eyes. They were sharp. Focused. “Get him a blanket,” another officer called. Moments later, Klaus stood shakily on his feet, draped in emergency foil. He looked directly at Reginald, who was now being helped to his feet and limping toward the exit with two officers holding his arms. Allison’s mouth fell open as Klaus walked beside them. His presence was surreal—like a ghost that refused to fade. “You...” Reginald murmured, his voice barely audible. “You’re... supposed to be...” “Dead?” Klaus said, lips curling slightly. “You’d be surprised how often people get that wrong.” Reginald couldn’t speak. He
CHAPTER 99
Klaus immediately twisted his fingers mid-air, activating his aura manipulation. A sudden gust of invisible force slammed against the pistol in Reginald's hand, launching it out of his grip. The gun clattered across the tiled floor like a fallen idol. Before Reginald could blink, Klaus was already in motion—he surged forward, slammed his boot into Reginald’s stomach, and sent him hurtling across the room. The older man crashed back-first into the wall with a sickening thud, dislodging a dusty portrait that fell and shattered on the floor beside him. "You will pay for everything you’ve done," Klaus growled, his voice like thunder churning in the clouds. "This ends now." Reginald wheezed and coughed, laughing through the pain. “You think this ends just because you say so?” he hissed. “You arrogant brat.” Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he pulled himself up to a half-sitting position. “So what if you expose me? You should have just stayed dead. You were a ghost. You w
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