Reincarnated as the Son of Conglomerate

Chapter 175 Dirty Campaign (IV)

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All eyes were on Laplace. Her beauty and unique hair color caught the attention of the men. They couldn't take their eyes off her. She truly exuded an uncommon charm. Even Klaus felt it. There was a noticeable difference between Sylvia and Laplace despite inhabiting the same body.

While Sylvia was a tomboy who was always grumpy, Laplace was quite the opposite. She was expressive, always wearing a smile on her face. For this reason, Klaus found it strange to see her current appearance.

"I thought you'd get lost, but... never mind. Tonight, you'll play the role of Sylvia. Don't call me 'my liege'. It sounds odd to people's ears. Just call me by my name, Klaus."

Laplace bounced her head up and down. "Yes, my liege— Uh, I mean, Klaus."

Seeing her behaving so femininely, Klaus felt slightly strange. The image of a spirit who had lived for hundreds of years was very different from his imagination. Laplace always sounded wise when she was in his head, so he thought the fire spirit would act like a sage or something.

"Do you remember your task for tonight?" Klaus asked.

For the second time, Laplace nodded like a dog. "Yeah, I remember."

Klaus brought Laplace for two reasons.

The first reason was to fulfill his promise. Laplace truly wished to experience being human. Almost every night, she disturbed his sleep by communicating telepathically, asking various questions about this world, and Klaus, being a good master, always answered her inquiries.

Klaus knew her desire to become human was unbearable. So, to be able to sleep peacefully, he granted Laplace permission to possess Sylvia for a night, and she was excited about it. Laplace even insisted on coming here alone.

And the main reason Klaus chose tonight was to tap into the mind of the gubernatorial candidate, Jose Ancelotti. He couldn't extract someone's thoughts without causing them to lose their life. Therefore, he wanted to use Laplace's divine sight to uncover the plans of this Italian-blooded man.

Actually, Klaus had already planted spies in the opponent's campaign headquarters, but his gut feeling always told him something was off. At the same time, he felt everything was proceeding according to the plan. So, he decided to find out about Jose Ancelotti directly with Laplace's help.

The lights dimmed, leaving the spotlight on the stage. It was a sign that the debate was about to start. People ceased their conversations and quickly took their seats.

"Where should we sit?" Laplace asked.

"Wait. There's one more who hasn't arrived."

As guests scrambled to find their seats, chairs started filling up. Klaus and Laplace still stood there. Some people glanced at them as they walked by. When almost no one was standing in the hall except for the two and the staff, a woman in gray attire drew close to them. She appeared formal but carried a captivating air. The room seemed dim, but Klaus could see the gold-rimmed glasses resting on her face.

"Thank you for waiting for me," she said.

"Well, I actually wanted to hear an apology from you," Klaus replied.

"Apologies are not in my dictionary."

"Okay, okay, I get it," Klaus answered.

The last person they were waiting for was Alexa. Klaus brought the CEO here because she happened to have a slight interest in politics, and he needed her to assist with an important task later.

The bespectacled woman glanced at Laplace. Seeing her unusual hair color, Alexa was slightly intrigued.

"Your hair looks beautiful," Alexa praised.

"Thank you." Laplace smiled broadly.

Meanwhile, Klaus was surprised. In all the time he had known Alexa, he had never heard this bespectacled woman compliment someone, especially with positive words.

"Have we met before? You look very familiar," Alexa asked.

"Yes. We met at the Elemental Gun grand launch."

"Ah, it's you." Alexa didn't remember meeting her, but she pretended to.

"But we haven't been introduced before. My name is Sylvia. I work for Rays of Hope." Laplace extended her hand.

Alexa shook it, and they introduced themselves.

Seeing Laplace's naturally graceful reaction, Klaus secretly smiled. He had actually been ready to erase Alexa's memory if Laplace made any mistakes, but the fire spirit exceeded his expectations.

"People have taken their seats. How about we do the same?" Klaus suggested.

Klaus disposed of his coffee cup before they searched for seats to watch the debate. They found empty chairs in the front row near the stage. As they sat down, the atmosphere turned hushed.

Flashing lights and grand music filled the hall. The attending guests and journalists redirected their attention toward the grand stage before them. A large screen behind the stage displayed images of the three pairs of gubernatorial candidates, all smiling with confidence.

The moderator, a man with slicked-back blonde hair, walked towards the round table. Holding a microphone in his hand, he signaled that the event was about to commence.

The candidates, Jose Ancelotti and Marcus Kingsley, Richard Dickson and Jonathan Thompson, as well as Isabella Wilson and Victoria Carmichael, emerged from behind the stage. The candidates appeared composed as they walked to their respective seats.

The moderator gestured for the audience to give a warm applause as a sign of respect to them. Not long after, the room resounded with a lively round of applause, and the candidates reciprocated with smiles towards the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this gubernatorial debate," the moderator declared, his voice calm yet firm. "We are here to hear the perspectives and plans of the candidates who will lead New York."

As the moderator explained the debate format, Klaus took this time to communicate with Laplace through telephaty.

"During the debate, I want you to look into the minds of Jose Ancelotti and Isabella Wilson. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my liege. I understand. But I can't do it by just looking at them."

Klaus raised an eyebrow. He thought Laplace could directly read someone's thoughts. "So, how?"

"I need to make contact with them. At the very least, I touch them."

Hearing the condition, Klaus furrowed his brow. He was officially a campaign team member for a gubernatorial candidate. It wouldn't be ethical for him to meet with rival candidates.

"Okay, let's start the debate."

The camera's spotlight shifted from one candidate pair to another, giving each the chance to deliver their opening statements. The candidates locked eyes with the camera while their voices resonated through the sound system that filled the entire hall.

As the debate progressed, the atmosphere grew more tense and spirited. The candidates discussed issues related to education, the economy, the environment, and most importantly, the tension between awakeners and non-awakeners. Their voices resonated with conviction, occasionally punctuated by tension when their responses clashed.

The audience and journalists in the hall continued to listen intently. Questions were posed and answers given, sporadically punctuated by spontaneous laughter or applause, filling the gaps in the tense moments and creating an engaging dynamic.

As the debate got heated, Klaus was busy thinking of a plausible excuse to meet with Jose Ancelotti.

…

Inside the minimalist yet elegant apartment, the soft glow from modern pendant lights filled the room. The gentle radiance created a warm ambiance, illuminating neutral-colored furniture with artistic touches. A man reclined comfortably on the couch, draped in soft silk pajamas. The dark silk contrasted with the golden hue of his hair.

Amidst the quiet of the night, the bright TV screen displayed the three pairs of gubernatorial candidates speaking on the stage. The moderator allowed each candidate their turn to express their opinions. In a corner of the room, the soft light from the wooden-floored area cast intriguing patterns of light, drawing the gaze towards the screen's display.

The man carefully retrieved his cellphone from the side table by the couch. His fingers danced across the device's screen, sending messages and making calls to his subordinates. The ringtone blended with the night's stillness.

"Are they there?" Vincent murmured in a low yet malicious tone. His gaze remained fixed on the large window in front of him, as if contemplating in the dark thoughts that only he knew.

"Yes, boss," came a woman's voice from the other end of the phone. "The target came along with two women. One of them is the woman we failed to kill earlier."

"What's her name again? I forgot."

"Alexandra Cohen."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Ah, her. You know what to do, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Make sure not to fail this time, Zee."

Beep. The call ended.

While the gubernatorial candidates continued to speak on the TV screen, the atmosphere in the apartment remained tranquil and still. However, within Vincent's heart, his sinister plan was unfolding. He felt like a player in a dark drama, with only him knowing the plot.

Facing the bright screen, a sinister smile appeared on his face. The soft light around him almost seemed to reflect the dark side that was playing in his mind.

"Why are you smirking to yourself, Vincent?"

A soft voice interrupted him. A woman in black pajamas emerged from the bathroom. She ran a towel through her wet black hair as she drew close to Vincent. Seating herself in his embrace, she leaned her head against his broad chest.

"It's nothing, Liliana," Vincent replied.

"You always keep your thoughts to yourself. Annoying," she said playfully, pouting.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Sitting in each other's embrace, they watched the tedious gubernatorial debate unfold on the screen.