Chapter 117: Dragon Might

Chapter 117: Dragon Might

Bang!

The brass-colored bullet crossed half the bar, shooting toward the body of the Silver-Tongued, Misor King.

Yet just as it was about to hit, Misor’s brown eyes suddenly turned deep and dark.

The bullet abruptly curved, angling slightly upward, and accurately struck a glass filled with golden beer.

Amid a sharp crash, the glass instantly shattered, flinging liquor in every direction.

At the same time, Misor grabbed the cup belonging to the patron beside him, spread his arms, snapped his forearm, and hurled it toward Klein.

What is the point of that? Klein merely shifted slightly to the side and dodged the glass, letting it smash into the wall and shatter.

By then, the Silver-Tongued Misor had rolled and scrambled toward the entrance to the underground area, trying to get inside and either find help or escape through a secret passage.

He had already made an initial judgment: that unfamiliar and insane adventurer was very likely the attacker who had disguised himself as Elaine, boarded the Black Death, and tried to assassinate Vice Admiral Ailment Tracy.

And the fact that the attacker had nearly succeeded made him understand that, one-on-one, he was no match for this man!

This was a pirate admiral-level powerhouse!

Thud, thud, thud! Klein chased after the Silver-Tongued Misor at high speed.

His figure was swift and agile. Even in such a chaotic bar, he did not step on anyone.

Seeing the guards of the underground area approach with revolvers in hand, seeing Misor King about to pass through the entrance, and seeing the bar’s surrounding guards converge, Klein did not hesitate. He suddenly clenched his left hand.

His black glove was instantly covered in fine, dark-gold scales. His dark-brown eyes abruptly paled, as though vertical pupils had appeared within them.

Immediately afterward, an invisible wave swept outward from him in all directions.

Wherever the wave passed, the patrons crouching with hands over their heads went limp and trembled. The military contact, Urs Kent, also clearly lost rationality, as though he had encountered the most terrifying thing in the world and only wanted to flee from this place.

The bar guards closing in suffered the same fate. Great terror seized their hearts, and they began running blindly in all directions, creating even greater chaos.

Clang! Clang! Clang! The guards at the underground entrance dropped their guns. Some rushed into corners and curled up. Some stood trembling in place, the crotches of their pants visibly darkening.

The Silver-Tongued Misor was struck as though by lightning. Terrified, he began circling repeatedly right at the entrance.

This was the Psychiatrist’s Deterrence, also known as Dragon Might, or Mass Panic!

It was currently Klein’s only area-of-effect control Beyonder ability.

At that moment, Klein’s high-speed sprint did not stop. In several quick steps, he had already rushed beside Misor.

At that exact instant, a scene naturally surfaced in his mind: Misor, who appeared to have fallen into extreme terror, suddenly lifted his head, twisted his waist, swung his arm, and blasted out his right fist straight toward Klein’s head.

Klein did not think. Fully trusting the danger premonition of a Clown, he immediately bent his back and turned his body to the side.

Almost at the same time, the Silver-Tongued Misor abruptly lifted his head. His brown eyes were dark and clear, with no trace of confusion.

At some unknown point, he had already broken free of Dragon Might’s influence!

This was beyond Klein’s expectations.

Bang!

Misor’s muscles bulged. His waist and back twisted, and his arm swung, launching a fist like a cannonball. But it failed to hit the expected target and instead struck the wall beside the entrance.

Crash!

Where his fist landed, brick and stone shattered. A spiderweb of cracks instantly formed around a large hole, and the entire bar seemed to shake.

That punch was far more powerful than a revolver bullet!

By then, Klein had already dodged to his rear flank. His body straightened again, and his glove seemed to be coated with gold.

Two bolts of lightning suddenly lit within his dark-brown eyes and shot out like bullets.

Interrogator—Mental Pierce!

“Ah!”

Misor King immediately released a scream. Yet he did not fall to the ground and roll in agony. He merely lifted both hands, trying to clutch his head.

He quickly recovered, almost miraculously, from the pain of having his mind pierced. But then he felt the cold barrel of a gun press against his forehead and saw the cold, thin adventurer before him pull the trigger.

At such close range, even if Mental Pierce’s effect lasted only one second, that was enough for Klein to raise his right arm and press the revolver’s muzzle against the Silver-Tongued Misor King’s head!

Bang!

The words of surrender Misor King wanted to speak shrank back down from his half-open mouth into his throat. On the wall behind his head appeared a picture made from dots of vivid red and small amounts of white—tragic, clear, and chaotic.

The light in his eyes vanished. Misor fell backward, leaned against the wall, and slid down to the ground.

At noon on February 1, 1350, the Silver-Tongued Misor was hunted.

Klein glanced at the still-chaotic bar, forcefully shut the door to the underground area, wrapped the iron chain that had already existed there around it, and tied a knot.

He bent, dragged Misor King’s corpse several steps toward the underground passage, but did not enter directly.

While remaining alert against enemies who might rush out from within, he spread his left palm and aimed down at the Silver-Tongued Misor’s corpse.

As for shepherding the third mate of the Black Death, Klein felt not the slightest psychological burden. He believed the other party was certainly steeped in crime. First, Misor had once been a subordinate of Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos, and that dead pirate admiral had even massacred entire ships. He was an exceedingly cold-blooded man, as could be glimpsed from the fate of the Red Glove Nightmare inside Creeping Hunger. Second, Misor now served Vice Admiral Ailment, indirectly serving the Demoness Sect. Who knew how many human-trafficking cases he had participated in?

Creeping Hunger returned to the appearance of thin human skin. A hideous mouth split open in its palm, and two scarlet eyes appeared.

In an instant, a bone-chilling wind blew through the passage leading to the underground area. It repeatedly circled Misor’s corpse, slowly outlining a blurred human figure with very short eyebrows and sunken eye sockets.

Black yet not dim points of light swiftly poured out of the corpse, combining with their counterparts within Misor’s spirit body. Together, they threw themselves into Creeping Hunger, drilling into one empty finger and forming a certain connection with the surrounding environment.

Creeping Hunger first turned deep black, evil yet noble. Then it returned to normal and began radiating hunger for flesh and blood.

Klein quietly sensed it for several seconds and was rather pleasantly surprised to discover that the abilities drawn this time were quite practical. Although there were only two, they were even better than the previous Living Corpse’s three!

Only now did he learn that Misor was a Sequence 6 Baron of Corruption of the Lawyer pathway. The two abilities he had obtained came respectively from Baron of Corruption and from the corresponding Sequence 7, Briber.

The former was Distortion. By distorting a target’s speech, actions, and intentions, it constructed a certain order favorable to oneself, thereby restricting or influencing the opponent.

The latter was called Bribe, but it was only one of the various “bribery” abilities a Briber possessed. More specifically, it could be called Bribe—Weaken.

The prerequisite for using this ability was to give the target a certain object. After that, for a fixed period of time, the target’s attacks, defenses, or control effects aimed at oneself would be greatly weakened.

Give the target an object? So throwing a glass of wine at me counted as a “bribe”? As expected of the Black Emperor pathway. It exploits loopholes in order while still feeling domineering… No wonder my Dragon Might and Mental Pierce had poor effects on Misor. Even the bullet’s power weakened. I thought that shot would blow his skull open directly… Klein instantly understood.

At the same time, he understood why he had involuntarily flown toward the Black Emperor, toward the King of the Five Seas, Nast. The other party had distorted his intention to move forward, preventing him from stopping.

Not bad… Klein lowered his head and glanced at the Silver-Tongued Misor’s corpse, then walked toward the underground area.

He needed to find some food for Creeping Hunger.

Perhaps because it had been thrown above the gray fog many times, Creeping Hunger was not especially frenzied at the moment and still seemed able to endure. Therefore, Klein was in no hurry. He advanced slowly, guarding against accidents.

After only a few steps, he saw Strongman Ozil leading a group of subordinates out. Among them were Beyonders as well as gunmen, and their numbers were not small!

Klein’s expression did not change. His black glove was once again covered in dark-gold scales.

His eyes paled once more, as though vertical pupils had appeared. An invisible wave instantly surged forward.

Psychiatrist—Dragon Might!