The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock

CHAPTER 3

His tone dripping with casual malice. “I need Klaus Whitlock taken care of. Make it look like an accident.”

Allison turned back to the celebration, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. But the joy no longer felt real.

Klaus jolted awake, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Pain flared through his chest with each inhale, his ribs screaming in protest. Distant, muffled sounds swam around him—a low hum of voices, the soft shuffle of feet. His head throbbed, a dull pounding at the base of his skull.

Memories crashed into him all at once. Storming out of his father-in-law’s house. The check—torn and discarded in a fit of rage. The cab ride, his mind a whirlwind of betrayal. Then, the sudden collision—a black Concord slamming into the side of his taxi at a deserted intersection. The screech of metal, the shattering of glass, the world flipping into chaos.

Then—nothing.

Now, he was here. Bound. Helpless.

Footsteps approached. Klaus forced his bleary eyes open and found himself staring at three familiar faces. His father-in-law, Reginald. His former lover, Allison. His mother-in-law, watching with an unsettling detachment.

"You should have walked away quietly, Klaus," Reginald said, stepping closer. His voice was almost pitying. Almost. "Now, this is where your story ends."

Klaus gritted his teeth, struggling against the restraints biting into his wrists. "You think you can just get rid of me?" His voice was hoarse, raw with anger.

Reginald chuckled. "Oh, Klaus. You're a pawn in a much larger game. And pawns? They're sacrificed for the queen." His gaze flickered to Allison, who stood beside him, her face unreadable.

“Allison…” Klaus looked at her, searching for something—regret, hesitation, anything.

But she only sighed. "You were always too trusting."

Reginald pressed a baseball bat into her hands. "Go ahead, my dear."

For the first time, something flickered in her eyes. Uncertainty? Or was it regret? But then, she tightened her grip on the bat, lifted it high, and swung.

The impact sent a sickening crack through the air. Pain exploded in Klaus’s head. His vision blurred, the world spinning before darkness swallowed him whole.

He was still aware, but the blow had stolen his sight. Blood pooled in his mouth, the metallic taste thick on his tongue.

"Urgh…" He tried to speak, but only a garbled sound escaped.

Allison's voice was the last thing he heard. "Goodbye, Klaus."

Another strike. And then—nothing.

---

His body was dumped unceremoniously into the river beneath a bridge, along with the wreckage of the two vehicles. The taxi driver—collateral damage—was thrown in beside him. By the time the cars hit the water, the scene was set. Just another tragic accident.

But death was not the end.

Ding!

A chime echoed in the void.

[Host has fulfilled the requirements for activating the Legacy of the God of Gamblers ~ The RESURGENCE System.]

[System loading… Synchronization 100%.]

[Congratulations, Klaus Whitlock! Eris, the Trickster God, has chosen you as his avatar.]

Klaus's awareness flickered back, though his body remained motionless. Confusion flooded his mind. A system? A god? None of this made sense.

[Do you accept the Trickster’s blessing?]

Two options materialized in his mind: Yes or No.

Something deep inside told him that refusing meant true death. His fingers twitched, the faintest movement in the abyss.

[Yes.]

A surge of energy tore through him.

[Body repair successful.]

[Consciousness returning.]

---

Klaus gasped as air rushed back into his lungs. The sensation of cold, stiff fabric pressed against his skin. He was inside something—something tight.

A body bag.

Panic clawed at his throat as he struggled against the confines. Then, a glowing screen materialized before his eyes.

[Abilities unlocked:]

Perception (F) - upgradable: Heightened senses, awareness beyond the ordinary.

Mirage (F) - upgradable: The ability to create an identical illusion of oneself.

Warmth spread through his body, focusing on his eyes. Suddenly, he could see—through the bag, through the dimly lit room. A man in a white lab coat was pushing a gurney into the corner, unaware of Klaus’s awakening.

The moment the man turned his back, Klaus moved. Slowly, deliberately, he fought against the zipper, his muscles still weak but regaining strength.

With a final pull, the bag gave way. He sat up, gulping in air as he took in his surroundings. Rows of cold storage units lined the walls. The faint, sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air.

The mortuary.

“I… I died,” Klaus whispered, flexing his fingers. His body responded, whole and intact.

The man in the lab coat reentered, his gaze sweeping the room—only to freeze when his eyes met Klaus’s.

The color drained from his face.

Klaus raised a hand in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. "I—uh—I’m not dead, so… let’s not panic."

The man did the exact opposite.

He screamed.

Klaus groaned. "Great. That’s subtle."

He swung his legs off the table, testing his balance. His mind was still reeling, he watched as the man was shaking, his eyes looked on in fear as he stumbled backwards at a loss for words, another scream loading to be let out.

"Please don't scream again, can you calm down, I have a terrible migraine and I would hate to have to cover my sensitive ears to your voice" Klaus said calmly but he seemed to be talking to someone who had long lost his composure.

The man kept shaking.