His Obsession Began After Losing Her-Chapter 89: External Pressure

As Sigmund stepped out of his mansion, the sight of several police cars parked in a line greeted him.

A contingent of uniformed police officers, along with personal bodyguards, stood at attention. In the middle of them was a man with light brown hair, a charming face, and a carefree demeanor.

Sigmund's frown deepened when he noticed the police dogs among the group.

"You're finally here, Dr. Sung. You kept us waiting," Roy said with a casual smile as if he were leading the officers.

Feigning friendliness, Sigmund asked, "May I know why the police are here, and how can I address you?"

Roy introduced himself. "I'm Roy Lloyd, the vice director of Paragon, and this here is Chief Inspector Adam Woon."

He gestured to the man beside him.

Adam continued, "Dr. Sung, we have a search warrant to inspect your mansion, so please let us in."

Sigmund kept his cool, smiling as he examined the warrant paper handed to him. He wondered how they had obtained the warrant and found his secretive location. He had kept this place so well hidden that no public information could lead them here.

"What am I suspected of?" he asked.

Adam replied, "We have evidence that you have taken Noran Kingston."

"Evidence?" Sigmund echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Adam continued. "According to Nigel Miles' account, you were the one who took Noran."

"Ah, I've heard of that patient," Sigmund said smoothly. "But he's mentally unstable. How can you trust someone with an unsound mind?"

Obviously, they wouldn't trust Nigel's testimony alone, but with Paragon's pressure, the authorities had given in and issued the search warrant. This demonstrated the power of Paragon and highlighted that the key person operating such an establishment was now in Sigmund's grasp.

There was no way he would let such a prized puppet go.

"We can prove whether Nigel is unsound or not after searching your premises," Roy interjected. "So, open up."

Sigmund considered his options, knowing he couldn't outright refuse.

"I'll allow the search, but not with the dogs. I'm allergic, and if they affect my health, the police will be liable."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "I heard you just visited the shelter, and now you've developed an allergy?"

"I discovered the allergy after visiting the shelter. It's very serious, so please understand," Sigmund replied smoothly.

Adam glanced at Roy, seeking his approval as if Roy were the one in charge. Roy reluctantly agreed, and Sigmund instructed his servants to let the group in.

Inside the mansion, Sigmund's expression remained calm, but his eyes gleamed with hidden malice. He gestured for the officers to follow him, leading them through the grand hallways with an air of practiced ease.

As they moved deeper into the mansion, Sigmund's demeanor shifted subtly. He began speaking in a low, rhythmic tone, his words weaving a hypnotic spell.

"Please, feel free to search every corner," Sigmund intoned, his voice almost melodious. "You'll find nothing out of the ordinary here. Everything is in perfect order."

The officers' movements slowed, their expressions becoming vacant. Their minds clouded under the influence of Sigmund's voice of command, their willpower ebbing away.

Roy, too, found himself succumbing to the soothing cadence, his focus blurring.

"You have thoroughly searched the mansion," Sigmund continued, his tone unyielding. "There is nothing here. You can leave now."

One by one, the officers nodded in agreement, their eyes glazed over. They turned and began to file out of the mansion, their earlier determination replaced by a blank obedience. Roy followed, his steps mechanical, his thoughts muddled.

As they exited the mansion, the cool air hit them, and one of the police dogs barked sharply, breaking the trance.

Roy blinked, disoriented, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

"What happened? Why are we back outside?" he muttered, his voice tinged with confusion.

Chief Inspector Adam and the other officers looked equally bewildered, glancing at each other with furrowed brows. They were unable to recall the details of their search, their minds filled with a false certainty that they had found nothing.

Roy turned back to face the imposing mansion, a deep frown creasing his forehead. His mind raced, realizing the truth. The search had been an illusion, their memories manipulated by Sigmund's insidious power.

"Damn it! She's right," Roy cursed under his breath, his expression darkened further.

...

After Roy and the police left, Sigmund paced the lavish hallways of his mansion, his mind racing.

He couldn't afford another surprise visit. He barked orders at his men, instructing them to follow Roy and find out how Paragon and the police had discovered his secret hideout. It was crucial that no one else discovered the location where he kept his collection, especially Noran, whom he considered his trophy puppet.

Although he was amazed by how his power couldn't penetrate into Noran's mind, he was getting increasingly frustrated that despite regular injections of the poison, Noran's cognitive abilities seemed barely impaired.

Noran had become more obedient since Sigmund gained control over Shuri, showing clear anxiety whenever she was near. It was evident that Shuri's well-being mattered more to Noran than his own, and Sigmund took pleasure in exploiting that vulnerability.

However, Noran's submission wasn't absolute, and this perceived defiance gnawed at Sigmund's pride – an insult to his power.

The public discovery of his hideout had complicated matters. Sigmund needed to make Noran his puppet as quickly as possible.

For the next few days, Roy and his men visited the mansion repeatedly, each time making it more challenging for Sigmund to maintain his facade. He had to use his Voice of Command to drive them away, but their persistence was wearing him down.

Frustrated, Sigmund increased the dosage of the poison he injected into Noran. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

However, despite the higher doses, the poison seemed ineffective.

Noran didn't exhibit the violent resistance of before, likely because Sigmund had been visiting him less frequently due to Roy's interference. Instead, Shuri was always around, attending to Noran's meals and needs, her presence keeping him subdued.

Then, one day, a different maid arrived to help Noran with his meal instead of Shuri. Noran immediately made a commotion, demanding to see Shuri and refusing to eat. The servants, unable to calm him, reported the incident to Sigmund.

Sigmund, already in a foul mood from the sudden external pressure and the constant headaches caused by overusing his ability, stormed into the room.

His expression darkened further when he saw Noran glaring coldly at him. It seemed that not seeing Shuri for a day had caused Noran to revert to his cold and domineering attitude.

"Rin, where is she?" Noran barked, his voice low and gaze cold.

Sigmund's annoyance flared, and he crossed the room in a few swift strides. Grabbing Noran's hair, he yanked his head back, glaring down at him with a fury he had never displayed before.

Normally, Sigmund avoided physical violence against Noran to preserve his appearance, but today was different.

"It appears I've spoiled you, Noran. Do you think you can demand Shuri? Do you think she still belongs to you?" he spat, tightening his grip.

Noran's cold demeanor didn't waver, even as the pain from Sigmund's grip intensified. "What have you done to her?"

Sigmund sneered at his defiance. "She's my puppet. I can do whatever I want with her."

"Sigmund! You bastard!"

"You should call me Master."

With a swift motion, Sigmund pulled a syringe from his white coat, the needle glinting ominously in the dim light.

"It's not just her, you belong to me too." He sneered, yanking down Noran's shirt to expose his shoulder.

Noran struggled, but the chains held him in his position.

Sigmund jabbed the needle into his skin, the foreign liquid entering his bloodstream.

"You'll learn to act like my puppet," Sigmund whispered, his eyes gleaming with cruel pleasure as he watched Noran lose his strength.

Since he had other matters to attend to, Sigmund didn't wait for Noran to fall unconscious this time before leaving the room.

"Clean him up and make sure he looks presentable," Sigmund commanded the servants who were stationed outside.

"Yes, Master."

The servants bowed, their faces blank as they obeyed, and quickly entered the room after Sigmund left.

They were often in charge of cleaning and changing Noran's clothes after he fell unconscious from the daily dose of poison or sedative. They moved with mechanical efficiency, their expressions devoid of any emotion.

One servant carefully removed the chains that bound Noran to the chair, while another prepared to unbutton his shirt. As the servant's fingers reached for the first button, a sudden grip tightened around his neck.

The servant's eyes widened in surprise and fear as Noran, with a surge of strength, rose from the chair.

"Argh!" the servant gasped as Noran threw him across the room, his body hitting the wall with a thud.

The second servant barely had time to react before Noran's fist connected with his face, sending him sprawling to the floor with a single, elegant strike.

As the last servant lay unconscious on the floor, Noran stood tall and composed, his breathing steady and controlled. He couldn't understand why he felt no pain or weakness after Sigmund's latest injection.

In fact, his health seemed to be improving, especially after eating the meals Shuri prepared for him.

Noran's attention was drawn to a delicate pink butterfly that fluttered into the room. It landed gently on his shoulder, its wings shimmering in the dim light. Noran's expression softened a little as he gazed at the butterfly.

"Have you found her?" he asked softly.

The butterfly's wings fluttered in response, glowing softly as if communicating with him.

"Please lead me to her."