2025-03-12 01:54:16Klaus followed him, brushing a hand through his disheveled hair. His fingers caught on knots, reminding him just how much he had let himself go. His beard was overgrown, his clothes slightly wrinkled from days of wear. He probably did look like a beggar.
Behind them, two employees near the counter exchanged glances. "Does Steve not realize that man is a beggar?" a female attendant muttered under her breath. She folded her arms, watching them disappear into the grooming section. "He acts like this boutique is his entire world, always showing off what he knows." Another attendant, a male, scoffed. "He thinks he’s better than us just because he won Employee of the Year last year. I really hope he gets into trouble this time." The two chuckled quietly, glancing toward the entrance, where their supervisor, Mr. Jonathan, was due to arrive at any moment. "If the supervisor catches him wasting time on someone who clearly can’t afford anything, he’s done for," one of them whispered. They weren’t just irritated by Steve’s enthusiasm—they were jealous. He was always cheerful, always helpful, even when he didn't get tips. Seeing him humiliated would be satisfying. Meanwhile, Klaus settled into the barber's chair. The buzzing of clippers filled the air, and strands of dark hair tumbled to the floor. Steve worked with precision, his focus unwavering. By the time he was finished, Klaus barely recognized himself. He looked younger, sharper. He ran a hand along his freshly trimmed beard and smirked. It was incredible what a simple grooming session could do. "Now, let’s pick out some clothes, shall we?" Klaus said casually. Steve blinked, momentarily dazed, before nodding. "Oh—yes, of course!" As Klaus stepped out of the salon area, a few women passing by turned their heads. One of them, a blonde in a fitted dress, visibly slowed her pace, her gaze lingering. Klaus, amused, met her eyes and winked. She quickly averted her gaze, but not before a blush crept up her cheeks. Steve coughed into his fist, regaining composure. "Right this way, sir." Klaus moved through the boutique, selecting items with swift precision. He chose a crisp white shirt, a tailored black blazer, and a pair of polished dress shoes. Steve held up a few more options, but Klaus barely hesitated before nodding in approval. When it was time to pay, Steve retrieved a receipt booklet and a calculator, tallying up the total. "The total comes to $200,000," Steve announced. Klaus raised an eyebrow, pulling out his wallet. "Do you accept cards?" He debated spending more, just for the hell of it. The thought made him chuckle internally. "Certainly! One moment," Steve replied, moving to retrieve the card reader from the staff drawer. At that moment, the boutique’s glass doors swung open, and in strode their supervisor, Mr. Jonathan. He was a middle-aged man with a sharp suit, a well-groomed mustache, and an air of self-importance. His eyes immediately locked onto Steve and the man he was assisting. Jonathan’s expression darkened. He signaled Steve over, his posture rigid. "Steve, you should know better than to waste your time on people who don’t matter," Jonathan began sharply. His voice was loud enough for other customers to hear, drawing some glances. "That man clearly can’t afford these clothes! And I see you even gave him a fresh haircut? If he doesn’t pay for everything, consider your position here in jeopardy!" Steve stiffened but kept his expression neutral. Klaus, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Excuse me," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I’m the customer Steve is assisting. Would you mind letting him do his job? I’m in a hurry." Jonathan scoffed. "Absolutely not! Return the items you’re pretending to buy and leave. People like you don’t belong here." Klaus exhaled sharply, amused. "Oh? Is that so?" "Yes! Now get out!" Jonathan snapped, his voice rising. He didn't know why but something about this particular customer irritated him, the confidence he had, the grace in his steps, it was a slap in his face. "I will get security to throw you out!" Jonathan fumed, his chubby body vibrating like a bumble bee as he called for guards to quickly come and throw him out, the sight of Klaus still standing there confidentially was provoking to his person. At that moment, Klaus felt something shift—like the fabric of reality itself bending. A small notification flashed in his vision. [Luck Infuse?] [Yes] [No] His Luck Stat: 1000pts. A smirk played on his lips. He selected [Yes]. [-500pts deducted.] For a brief moment, his eyes flickered with a soft purple glow. An almost imperceptible wave of energy pulsed through the air. Then, his phone vibrated. He pulled out his sleek, purple-cased device and answered. "Hello, is this Mr. Klaus Whitlock?" "Uh… yes, speaking." "Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of Thera Supermarket and Hotel Suites. Mr. Holiday, the previous owner, has finalized the sale for $100 million." Klaus stared blankly at the wall. "Wait—what?" The line went dead before he could ask anything else. More notifications flooded his screen. [User has acquired Thera Supermarket and Suites. Congratulations! ] [Luck infusion was successful. $100,000,000 has been deducted from your account.] [System Balance: $6,000,000.] Klaus let out a slow breath, realization sinking in. He hadn’t just changed his fortune. He had rewritten reality.
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The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 11
Klaus barely reacted as the security guards took him by the arms, their grips firm but not forceful—yet. His mind was still processing what had just happened. A few minutes ago, he had only planned to get a haircut and some fresh clothes, but now, he somehow owned Thera Supermarket and Hotel Suites—one of the most profitable chains in the city. He hadn’t even met the previous owner before, yet the ownership had inexplicably fallen into his lap. The part that truly astounded him? Thera Properties was worth far more than the $100 million transaction. A business like this could make that much in a matter of weeks, if not days. As a former businessman himself, Klaus understood the true value of assets like these. And now, as he was being escorted out like a common beggar, his lips curled into a smirk. The irony was almost poetic. --- Jonathan, the boutique supervisor, stood nearby, arms crossed, watching with thinly veiled disdain as the guards led Klaus toward the exit. "People l
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 12
“I had no idea this was how your staff treated customers at Thera Supermarket,” Klaus said smoothly, his tone calm but edged with steel. “Your supervisor accused me of being a thief and a beggar… just because of my appearance.” Holiday’s gaze darkened as he turned sharply to Jonathan. “Klaus Whitlock was about to pay for his items when you chose to humiliate him instead.” Jonathan swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming at his temple. “I-I made a mistake,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “Please, sir, have mercy.” Klaus let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “This wasn’t a misunderstanding,” he said firmly. “It was a blatant abuse of power. I tried to explain, but you wouldn’t listen.” Holiday exhaled, rubbing his temple as frustration settled on his face. He knew Jonathan had made a serious error, but at the moment, he had no one else in line to take his place. “Jonathan, that’s enough. Be quiet,” Holiday ordered, his voice taut with irritation. Klaus turned to Holiday. “
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 13
Harriet tilted her head slightly. “What is it, sir?” Klaus tapped his fingers together, his expression unreadable. “Once the news breaks that Thera Supermarket and its five-star hotel have a new owner, my name will be everywhere. I need you to keep my identity out of the media. Give them someone else to focus on.” Harriet hesitated. “Is this because of your past… the prison sentence?” A small smile played on Klaus’s lips. “Yes,” he admitted. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t just that. Avoiding the media was a necessity. But his true goal? Revenge. He needed to stay in the shadows until the time was right. The air in the room felt heavier as Harriet met his gaze. His ice-blue eyes gleamed with something unreadable—dark, dangerous. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at his lips. And in that moment, Harriet knew—this man was terrifying. And yet, utterly captivating. Klaus leaned forward, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass table. The sleek iPad before him glowed
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
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CHAPTER 47
"Sir, we’ll be landing soon." Klaus leaned back in his seat, a smirk ghosting his lips. This was only the beginning.------- The sleek, obsidian-black jet descended smoothly onto the private LuxSky and Marine agency’s landing strip, its engines purring like a satisfied beast. As soon as the wheels kissed the ground, Klaus unbuckled his seatbelt and adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit. He always enjoyed moments like these—where power and perception played their little games. As the jet taxied toward its designated spot, a man stormed onto the tarmac. Dressed in an ostentatious red blazer, gold-rimmed sunglasses perched on his nose, and a scowl that could peel paint off a car, Richard Langston—the self-proclaimed "Shipping Magnate of the South"—was clearly in a foul mood. Or at least, that’s how he presented himself. In reality, Richard Langston was no shipping magnate—he was a pastor, one who had shamelessly siphoned off donations from his church members to buy the cheapest pr
CHAPTER 46
Sending him careening off the pavement. Bones shattered with every collision as he tumbled through the air, his body a ragdoll of agony. The jagged edge of a rock wall rushed toward him— But Raphael wasn’t finished. A portal ripped open mid-flight, swallowing Raphael whole just before impact. Then, a scream tore through the night. Isabella. Klaus's head snapped toward her. Raphael had reappeared beside her car, his body battered but his eyes alight with malevolent glee. With a mere gesture, time constricted around Isabella’s vehicle, locking it in a frozen stasis. Her mouth was free just enough to let out a terrified scream as the air around her thickened, space itself collapsing inward, crushing her very existence. Klaus acted on instinct. [Sly & Devious] activated. Teleport. He reappeared beside Isabella’s car just as Raphael reached for her. With a surge of aura manipulation, Klaus forced Raphael’s fingers open, breaking his grip on time itself. “You just don’t know when
CHAPTER 45
Raphael Martel swirled the amber liquid in his crystal glass, watching the reflections dance like firelight. His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, tracked Klaus Whitlock and his group of new friends as they left the lavish estate that housed the prestigious party. He leaned forward, the golden glow of the city casting long shadows across his face, accentuating the cruel smirk tugging at his lips. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Martel believed in one truth—order. His order. Those who defied it had to be reminded of their place, and tonight, Klaus Whitlock, Isabella Rossi, and their little entourage would learn that lesson in pain and blood. Klaus exhaled sharply as he settled into the plush leather of his Rolls-Royce Phantom, but the tension in his chest didn’t ease. He had expected Victor Martel to make an appearance at the event, yet the man had been conspicuously absent. A deliberate move. A warning in itself. The others followed in their own vehicles, their convoy weaving through
CHAPTER 44
Klaus exhaled slowly, the weight of inevitability pressing down on him. He could only give one answer. Because whether he admitted it or not, he was already caught in her web. "Alright," he murmured, his voice laced with reluctant resignation. "I'll join forces with you. Let's meet after the party." Isabella Rossi's lips curved slightly, a knowing glint in her eyes. Klaus had made a promise. Now, he had to follow through. The charity auction dragged on, an endless parade of glittering artifacts and luxurious trinkets. None of them sparked Klaus’s interest—until it appeared. A necklace of blood-red rubies, each stone glistening like captured fire, pulsating with a life of its own. The auctioneer’s voice rang out, calling it a necklace made from the purest diamonds, but Klaus knew better. The energy emanating from it was unmistakable. Isabella’s gaze latched onto the piece, her intent clear as she raised her paddle to bid. Their conversation from earlier had already faded into the
CHAPTER 43
Instead, there was something far more dangerous. Interest. The air in the room thickened, pressing down like an invisible weight. Light flickered against the walls, casting restless shadows that stretched and curled like tendrils of dark intent. And there she stood—poised, motionless, yet utterly in control. Her presence didn’t just command the space; it consumed it. She wasn’t merely beautiful. She was the kind of captivating that made Klaus forget to breathe. The elegant curve of her neck, the quiet confidence in her stance, the way her eyes held secrets darker than the room itself—she was a masterpiece crafted to ensnare. But it wasn’t her beauty that unnerved him. It was the silent, dangerous promise in her gaze, the kind that made a man lean in when he knew he should turn away. A gloved hand lifted, a single finger resting just above her lips. The pause stretched, deliberate, a moment carved out of time itself. It wasn’t a gesture of thoughtfulness. It was a spell, a calculate
CHAPTER 42
“I expect nothing less. That’s far more interesting than you simply conceding defeat.” Klaus said nothing. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the fire in it mirroring the one flickering in his chest. He brought it to his lips, allowing the burn to sear its way down his throat, but he said nothing. A hush fell over the room as the auctioneer raised a hand. The murmur of idle conversation faded, replaced by a tangible current of anticipation. Every eye turned toward the stage, the tension coiling like a silent storm waiting to break. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer began, his voice carrying the weight of history itself. “What you see before you is no mere luxury. It is an artifact, a relic of a bygone era, woven from the fur of a creature so rare that its very existence is legend.” The room collectively leaned in. Even the most seasoned collectors, men and women accustomed to bidding on the rarest treasures, held their breath. “The animal whose fur graces this ma
CHAPTER 41
Tonight, he had not just outbid Raphael Martel. He had outmaneuvered him. And as the golden egg was handed over to its overpriced new owner, it was clear to everyone present: Klaus Whitlock had already won. The price had soared beyond reason, a bidding war turned blood sport. Martel had taken the bait, pushed to the edge of logic, and now he sat with a hollow victory. The room hummed with the quiet energy of spectacle, champagne glasses poised at lips as guests exchanged knowing glances. Klaus leaned back in his chair, allowing himself the indulgence of a slow sip of scotch. The liquor burned just enough to anchor him, but not enough to distract from the real prize—the flicker of fury in Martel’s eyes. His opponent’s fingers drummed against the polished wood of the auction table, a restless staccato betraying what his carefully schooled expression would not. His jaw was tight, his nostrils flared—rage barely leashed beneath a mask of civility. Then, just for a moment, the mask
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
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
