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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
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 22
A sharp, almost manic burst of laughter that sliced through the opulent hum of MegaBucks Casino Royale like a blade. Crystal chandeliers seemed to tremble with the force of it. The clatter of chips wavered, the murmurs of gamblers faltered. Eyes turned. Attention hooked. "You didn’t bother to inform me of any changes regarding my payment," Klaus declared, his voice raised just enough to carry. "It seems MegaBucks Casino Royale isn’t as reliable and legitimate as it claims to be." The casino had fallen into a peculiar silence, one where the hum of tension replaced the usual revelry. A woman in an emerald dress paused mid-sip of her martini, her gaze sharpening. A group of men at the roulette table leaned in, straining to catch every word. Anticipation crackled in the air. Randal, ever the professional, maintained his perfect facade, though a ghost of unease flickered in his sharp eyes. He despised public spectacles. They were bad for business. He offered a tight, practiced smi
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 23
"Excellent." Crane clapped his hands once. The sound rang out, sharp and decisive. "Then let's play an honest game. One devoid of tricks or shadows. One that will determine whether you leave here a richer man… or with nothing at all." Klaus felt a surge of satisfaction. He had maneuvered himself to the grand stage, a place where only the most elite players sat. This was exactly what he wanted. And then the world shifted. A notification flickered before his eyes. [Mission 2: Defeat your opponent without relying on the gift of gambling.] [Reward: Blessed Box or Cursed Box.] [Penalty: Permanent loss of Luck stat.] Klaus’s blood ran cold. What the hell?! Since when did his system work against him? How was he supposed to win whatever Crane had planned without his supernatural edge? Stay calm, Klaus. You’ve played more games than you can count. You can do this. He reminded himself that obstacles were meant to be conquered, that every challenge had a solution. And he was Kl
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 24
Crane smirked as he placed a hefty bet before the flop. Klaus matched it, his expression unreadable. The dealer revealed the first three community cards: ace, five, jack. A promising start for Klaus. He had top pair, but he needed to be careful. Crane raised the stakes, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. Klaus considered his options before raising even further. Crane, for the first time that night, hesitated. The turn card: a king. A dangerous card, opening the possibility of a straight. Crane exhaled through his nose, pushing forward another mountain of chips. Klaus felt his heart pound, but he kept his face smooth. He had to see this through. Then, the river. A queen. Klaus exhaled silently. Two pair. Not the best possible hand, but strong. Strong enough to challenge Crane’s confidence. He inhaled deeply and slid all his chips to the middle of the table. "I'm all in." Crane's eyes grew wide behind his glasses. He fixed his gaze on Klaus, attempting to interpr
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 25
"Did you really think I would stroll into this casino without a backup plan?" Klaus chuckled, his amusement a deliberate jab. Crane stood frozen, his eyes burning with silent fury. He realized he had no way out. "How did you…?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. Klaus tilted his head, mockingly thoughtful. "Let’s just say I have my connections. And let’s also say the game has come to an end, Mr. Crane. The house doesn’t always come out on top. Sometimes, it gets exposed." "Here are the documents signing over my shares to you." Silas’s voice was a dry rasp, the sound of defeat clinging to the air like stale cigarette smoke. He pushed a thin stack of papers across the mahogany desk to Klaus, a pen following close behind. His sprawling signature marked his final, reluctant surrender. Klaus Whitlock, his expression an unreadable mask, picked up the documents with deliberate slowness. He wasn't one for theatrics, but he relished the moment. His eyes moved meticulously over e
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CHAPTER 55
Klaus had transformed—into a massive, human-sized pangolin. Its armor gleamed under the pale moonlight, thick metallic plates layered like a living tank. His sharp, clawed limbs glistened. A long, segmented tail bristled with raw power. And above it all, two glowing purple eyes stared forward—fierce, inhuman, unmistakably Klaus. The predator had become the beast. In Jack's altered state, he continued to attack, allowing his thirst for blood to take over, as his fangs reformed in his mouth. Jack was oblivious to the beast he was becoming. His fury consumed him, leaving no room for concern about Klaus's transformation. He plunged his dagger down with greater force, aiming to pierce Klaus through the back, but once more, the blade clashed against armor. Clang! The thick pangolin scales absorbed the blow, causing the dagger to splinter under the impact. As Jack lunged forward to sink his teeth into Klaus's neck again, his venomous fangs shattered once more, and this time, his gu
CHAPTER 54
Klaus appeared behind a ventilation unit on the same rooftop. Just meters away. Jack's instincts flared like a struck match. He moved fast, sliding into a sniper’s crawl, trying to reposition before the shot could be interrupted. His gloved fingers reached to steady the rifle barrel—but it was already too late. The world stretched. Time hiccupped as Klaus blurred through the air, his teleportation phasing him in and out of visible space. In a final blink, he appeared directly before the rifle’s muzzle, one hand already wrapped around the barrel like a snake claiming prey. With zero hesitation, Klaus wrenched the weapon upward, then drove a vicious foot into Jack’s masked face. Crack. The sniper's visor shattered. He flew back, skidding across the gravel-strewn rooftop with a grunt muffled by his mask. His rifle clattered beside him, useless. But Klaus didn’t wait. He advanced like a force of nature—steady, inevitable. “Hello, Jack,” he said, voice calm but laced with v
CHAPTER 53
But he didn’t move toward the desk. He moved to the liquor cabinet instead, poured himself a glass of scotch. Damian blinked. “Would you like—?” “I didn’t pour you one,” Klaus said. “You’ve made enough bad decisions today. No need to add alcohol.” He remembered, in vivid detail, how stupid he’d been—how blind. How love had made a fool of him. How Allison, in her silk lies and honeyed venom, had laughed off betrayal like it was a joke. It hardened him. Every memory carved out his empathy and replaced it with ice. Damian didn’t reply. He sank behind his desk, head bowed, like a king forced to kneel in his own throne room. Cassandra opened her bag, pulled out a sleek tablet, and tapped through the contract. She slid it across the desk. “Everything’s outlined. Don’t waste our time. We already have a meeting booked with your largest creditor—assuming you want us to stall them.” Damian read it. Each line a slow punch to the ribs. He signed. Klaus stepped forward, took t
CHAPTER 52
She crumpled to her knees, trembling, voice cracking with desperation—but Klaus was already walking away. No hesitation. No mercy. Cassandra watched the woman silently, then tilted her head toward Klaus. “Too harsh?” “Too late,” Klaus said without turning. He paused at Damian’s side, took a breath that felt like a verdict, and met his eyes. “Now,” Klaus said, smooth and deliberate, “let’s talk about your company’s future… assuming you still want it to have one.” Damian swallowed hard, nodding. “Of course. My office is upstairs.” “Lead the way.” As they moved toward the elevators, the executives trailing behind them exchanged nervous glances. No one dared break the silence. Tasha, still kneeling on the marble floor, clutched her ID badge like it was a lifeline. No one helped her up. The receptionist desk stood abandoned, like an omen. Everyone in the lobby had seen it. Felt it. When Klaus Whitlock walked in, the rules changed. And when he left? Nothing would
CHAPTER 51
“Tasha,” Klaus said, slipping his hand into the inner pocket of his coat, “is this how you treat every customer who walks in here?” Her jaw kept moving—slow, lazy chewing—like he was the most boring part of her day. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t even acknowledge the question with a blink. “You do realize I’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes,” Klaus continued, voice level and cool, yet carrying an edge that sliced through the air. “Ignored. Interrupted. Mocked.” Tasha rolled her eyes like a teenager caught in detention. “Sir, if you don’t have an appointment, I can’t help you. That’s protocol. You don’t just waltz in and expect to see the CEO.” Cassandra let out a half-laugh, more scoff than amusement. “This is your idea of customer service?” The remark floated in the air just loud enough to sting. Tasha didn’t miss a beat. “And you? You think designer heels and a man’s arm put you above the rules? This is DHL Logistics, not the Met Gala.” Cassandra’s mouth parted
CHAPTER 50
Klaus watched her go. Watched the curve of her back as she entered the gleaming new Jeep he'd handpicked for her. The engine purred to life, a low, seductive growl that echoed down the driveway of his estate. She didn’t look back—Isabella never looked back. Not when she had made up her mind. That was what made her dangerous. And god, did Klaus respect that. As the taillights disappeared into the late afternoon haze, Klaus felt it—the sharp thrum of anticipation in his chest. Their alliance, initially forged in cold calculation and mutual ambition, was becoming something more... electric. Unspoken desires, shared glances, a wariness wrapped in understanding. He didn’t know where it would lead, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t afford to slip. Klaus Whitlock didn’t take chances. Neither did Isabella. They were a force now. A reckoning. And nothing—absolutely nothing—could stand in their way. --- Back at his suite in Thera Grand Hotels, Klaus leaned against the glass wall, h
CHAPTER 49
Once the keys were in his hand, Klaus casually walked to the parking lot, opened the door of his newly purchased Ferrari, then—without hesitation—slammed the door shut, climbed onto the hood, and, with a single decisive movement, stomped his heel through the windshield. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the lot. Gasps erupted from the small crowd forming around them. Phones were pulled out to capture the spectacle, flashing lights illuminating the chaotic scene. Klaus hopped off, dusting himself off as he turned to Derek with a smirk. "It’s just money, right?" Derek was speechless, his face a mask of horror as cameras caught every moment. The entire spectacle was later uploaded to his own gaming reality show, Shaw Unfiltered, where millions of subscribers tuned in to watch his daily life. Instead of flaunting his wealth, he had been utterly humiliated, turned into a meme overnight. Isabella exhaled, still processing. "Did you really just do that?" Klaus’s smirk wa
CHAPTER 48
Christopher Graves stared at the thick envelope in his hands, his breath catching in his throat. He peeled back the flap, and his eyes widened at the sight of the crisp banknotes inside. More money than he’d held in a long time. His fingers trembled as he thumbed through the bills, blinking in disbelief. "No way," he muttered. "Where did this come from?" He looked up at Klaus Whitlock, who stood before him, exuding an effortless confidence, an expression that was equal parts amusement and expectation. "Consider it an advance," Klaus said smoothly. "There’s more where that came from—as long as you do your job diligently and properly. In all fairness." Christopher swallowed hard, feeling the weight of not just the cash, but the unspoken contract binding him to it. He barely registered Anya slapping him on the back. "Don’t go spending it all in one place, big shot," she teased, winking before stepping away. The group exchanged final words before dispersing, their vehicles hum
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 cheap
