Black Spirit Body Threads that originated from different lifeforms appeared in Klein's eyes, but he didn't immediately extend his spirituality in an attempt to control them.
After identifying and confirming which Spirit Body Threads belonged to Molsona, he gulped down a mouthful of malt beer and focused on watching the boxing match in the ring like a real spectator.
The two boxers were bare-chested and didn't wear any protective gear. They fought with all their might as they constantly clashed, with every punch landing on flesh. The situation quickly turned intense.
Many of the spectating drunkards and gamblers felt their adrenaline rush as they enthusiastically shouted the name of the boxer they supported.
"Kill him!"
"Kill that son of a bitch!"
On the second floor, Molsona forgot about the cigar in his hand as he stared intently at the ring beneath him. His hand was already clenched tightly into a fist.
The people around him, apart from the bodyguards who were in charge of guarding against suspicious people and important areas such as the rooftops and floors, couldn't help but place their attention on the exciting boxing match.
Klein raised his hand once again and gulped down a mouthful of beer, as though he couldn't catch his breath due to the tense atmosphere.
At this moment, his spirituality silently spread out and grabbed onto the illusory black threads that corresponded to Molsona.
One second, two seconds, three seconds … Molsona, who had a rosacea nose, was just about to slightly move his fists, as though he was fighting in the ring when his brain suddenly turned numb.
He felt that his surroundings had turned strange, as though several layers of thick glass had been installed.
Molsona immediately realized that his thoughts were clearly sluggish, as though all the components in his brain had suddenly rusted.
As his target was only an ordinary person with a Spirit Body far inferior to a Beyonder, Klein didn't even take twenty seconds to gain initial control over him.
Seven seconds!
Just seven seconds!
Oh no … Something went wrong … It should be … a … Beyonder with … rather … special powers … Molsona, who often interacted with pirates, was no stranger to the mysterious World. Therefore, he had spent a large sum of money to hire a Beyonder to protect him. If not for the fact that his body had long been destroyed by alcohol and women, leaving him mentally weak and in a bad state, making it so that there was a high chance of losing control by consuming the potion, he would've wanted to directly obtain that supernatural power.
At this moment, due to his sluggish thoughts and lack of experience, Molsona took more than ten seconds to understand that he had been attacked. He immediately extended his arm and opened his mouth in an attempt to call for help.
However, his movements were so slow, and the voice in his throat was so weak. Some of the bodyguards around him were focused on the intense and intense boxing match, and the audience's shouts were louder and louder. The attention of the guards on the periphery was focused on the possible attack, and the employer who was not under heavy protection was ignored just like that.
When the climax of the match temporarily subsided, some of the bodyguards and subordinates turned around to look at their boss. They could only see that Molsona's gaze was somewhat dull, and the position of his hands was not too normal. It seemed like he was still immersed in the boxing match and was anxiously waiting for the final result.
Tears trickled down the corners of the mafia boss's eyes. He tried his best to loosen his fingers so that the cigar would fall to the ground and attract attention.
But to his despair, he found that his thoughts were getting slower and stiffer. Even a simple action seemed to take more than a minute to complete, and his fingers were still fighting against his thoughts!
Pa!
The burning cigar finally fell to the floor as Molsona's tears flowed down his face and onto his neck.
A few bodyguards noticed this and were just about to ask their boss if he was too agitated from the match when Molsona suddenly bent down and wiped his face as he picked up the cigar.
"This match isn't bad! Give the final winner more money! "Molsona flicked the cigar and pulled his collar as the corners of his lips curled into a smile.
He didn't specify how much money he was going to give, as Klein didn't understand the market at all, so he could only give a vague explanation.
Yes, Molsona of the New Rouen Party had become his puppet!
As this mafia boss was only an ordinary person, his Spirit Body was weaker than a healthy human, so he only took two minutes and fifteen seconds!
If he needed any more time, he would have to divert his attention to create chaos with his illusions, making the bodyguards focus on protecting Molsona and unable to notice his abnormality.
"Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
…
The audience's shouts suddenly became uniform as the match in the arena came to an end. Molsona also gestured for the bodyguards to continue watching the match.
After a boxer collapsed unconscious, Molsona took a puff of his cigar and said, "That's right.
"To the room.
"I need to take a break."
"Yes, Boss." His bodyguards and subordinates immediately escorted him to the corridor on the second floor and helped him open the door to the break room.
After instructing the bodyguards to guard key spots and not to disturb him, Molsona paced around and opened a safe. He found documents that involved new drugs and filtered out the most important ones.
Following that, he placed the documents and the address he cut from the newspaper, along with all the 758 pounds in cash, into a briefcase.
With a creak, he opened the door and called for a subordinate.
"Throw this bag under the third lamppost in the alley around the corner."
"Yes, Boss." His subordinate didn't ask why.
That was the rule!
Closing the door again, Molsona rummaged for three candles and items with spirituality. He used a pen and paper to seriously draw the emblem of The Fool — half a Pupil-less Eye that symbolized concealment, and the other half a Contorted Line that symbolized change. It was a special symbol formed from half a Pupil-less Eye.
Then, this mafia boss, who had become a puppet, lit the candles, used perfume to replace essential oils and extract, and seriously held a bestowment ritual.
He chanted the honorific name of The Fool and chanted the corresponding incantation in ancient Hermes, which he didn't know at all. Following that, he picked up the item with spirituality and let it fuse into the wind, forming an illusory door with the changing candle flames. If he didn't find an item rich in spirituality, Klein planned on using Molsona's blood. Human blood itself was an item with spirituality!
In the washroom on the first floor, Klein seized the opportunity to take four steps counterclockwise and arrive above the gray fog.
He didn't use the Dark Emperor card. Instead, he directly stirred some of the mysterious space's powers, connected them with the paper figurine, and threw it into the door of sacrifice and bestowment.
The paper figurine immediately transformed into an angel with twelve pairs of wings on its back. It flew through the illusory and mysterious door, traversing the pitch-black and deep void to arrive where Molsona was.
This was to interfere with the subsequent investigations of divination, prophecy, and other Beyonder powers!
Right on the heels of that, Klein picked up Creeping Hunger and threw it into the door of the ritual!
Creeping Hunger had used the bestowment ritual to come to the real World and appear in front of Molsona. Having not eaten for a long time, it immediately turned restless!
At this moment, Klein had returned to the washroom. From a distance of tens of meters, he controlled the previously frozen Molsona to shut his mouth and pick up the glove on the "altar."
A crack immediately appeared in the middle of the glove, revealing two rows of illusory, white teeth!
The puppet's senses that Klein obtained quickly weakened, and he decisively removed his control over it.
The slight backlash made him feel a little dizzy, but it didn't take long for him to return to normal.
Then, as though nothing had happened, he left the washroom and returned to the bar counter. He continued drinking the malt beer he hadn't finished from before.
At the same time, he used his Spirit Body Threads to find a rat on the second floor. In less than two minutes, he had turned it into his puppet.
The rat's actions were somewhat awkward and inexperienced as it searched for a cave and path. After spending a certain amount of time, it entered Molsona's lounge through the cover of the bookshelves.
At this moment, there was a thin glove that looked like it was made of human skin lying silently on the ground. As for Molsona, not even his clothes were left.
The rat climbed onto the table, picked up the piece of paper with The Fool's symbol in its mouth, and placed it in front of the burning candle.
The piece of paper was quickly ignited and reduced to ashes.
After extinguishing the three candles and returning them to their original spots, the rat came to Creeping Hunger's side and picked up the glove.
Then, it returned the way it came and left Molsona's lounge.
It hid all the way to the balcony on the second floor and silently climbed down.
First floor, at the bar counter.
Klein drank the last mouthful of beer, put down the cup, and slowly stood up.
He pressed down on his half top hat and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black double-breasted frock coat. He walked past the drunkards and gamblers at an unhurried pace and walked onto the street.
Following the light from the street lamps, he came to the alley at a normal speed. As he pulled out the paper figurine and lit it, he picked up the briefcase under the third street lamp.
At this moment, a gray rat with the thin human-skinned glove in its mouth leaped out from the shadows.
Klein bent down once again with a deadpan expression and picked up Creeping Hunger.
Then, the gray rat left on its own and crawled into a trash can. It lay there and lost all signs of life.
And in the night, under the illumination of the street lamps, Klein stood there, unhurriedly spreading his fingers and wearing Creeping Hunger on his left hand.
After moving his fingers to get used to the glove, he put away the briefcase and walked past the lively Oak Bar before disappearing at the intersection of the street.
…
After pasting the address and stamp on the briefcase that only had the important information left and placing it into the mailbox at the corner of the street, Klein transformed back into German Sparrow. He took a rental carriage and headed for another bar by the harbor.
It was a bar with many pirates provided by Anderson!
After entering the bar, Klein swept his gaze and took in the general situation inside.
Suddenly, he saw a familiar figure.
The figure had a medium build and his lips were purple. His brown eyes hid an intense malice that left one in fear. He was none other than King of Immortality Agalito's second mate, Slaughterer Kircheis with a bounty of 9,500 pounds!
Clearly, after escaping the exit of the dangerous waters, the Death Announcer had also come to the vicinity of the nearest Toscarter Island in search of supplies!
He's here too … The corners of Klein's mouth curled up. He realized that there was nothing more suitable than a chance encounter to hunt a Devil!
Just as he had evil thoughts, Kircheis sensed it and turned to look at the bar's entrance.
Without any hesitation, Klein grabbed the beer on the table beside him and threw it over.
Right on the heels of that, he drew his revolver and coldly aimed in that direction.
Bang!
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