Bella reached out and lightly touched Natasha's shoulder.
A strange energy instantly coursed through her entire body. Not tingling, not numbness, not even pain—more like a neural blockage.
Natasha tried to lift her leg and found her body sluggish, her limbs stiff as an old woman's.
She wasn't worried Bella would harm her. Their relationship had already surpassed most biological sisters in America. She just didn't understand what was happening to her body.
"What did you do to my body?"
That question came out a bit suggestive. Bella coughed.
Unlike game mages who used fire and ice, the spells she'd developed leaned increasingly toward the arcane.
The spell she'd just used on Natasha was a second-level spell she'd named Energy Suppression.
The principle was simple: use her psionic power to suppress or reduce the target's physical abilities and powers. It had plenty of advantages, but required physical contact.
If someone's willpower exceeded her mental pressure, or if they were significantly stronger than her, they could be immune to this spell.
Right now, Natasha's willpower fell far short of resisting her mental pressure, so she felt heavy, weak in the limbs.
"This isn't a physical problem. If you went for tests right now, your body would still be perfectly healthy. It's your... willpower that isn't strong enough. You still doubt your own abilities. Keep at it, my dear sister."
Seeing Bella sit cross-legged to the side with her eyes closed, Natasha felt quite annoyed. What kind of weird technique is this? I can't even handle one move?
That overwhelming weakness throughout her body made her furious.
She gritted her teeth and walked forward, but her steps were impossibly heavy. After just a few paces, sweat began streaming down her face.
Bella sat with her eyes closed, but was actually observing her sister's condition.
By her calculations, Captain America and the future Black Widow would be able to resist this spell through sheer willpower.
A second-level spell was still too low in the overall spell hierarchy.
This wasn't like those martial arts movies where two people pressed palms together, squatted in horse stance, and tried to push each other out! No comparing internal energy, no sustained energy confrontation. One move, inject a certain amount of mental power into the opponent's spiritual world, and done. A one-shot deal.
The opponent could use their own willpower to wear down that mental power. Grind away a bit, lose a bit. Their own willpower was endless, while the mental power in their spiritual world was rootless water. Theoretically, all intelligent beings could eventually break free from this spell's influence.
The difference lay in how long it took.
Those with strong will? A momentary daze, then they'd snap out of it.
Those with weak will? Like a serious illness—they might lie in bed for ten days to two weeks before recovering.
This had nothing to do with good or evil. Good people didn't necessarily have strong wills, and bad people didn't necessarily have weak ones.
When Natasha finally regained her mobility, Bella glanced at her watch. "Nine minutes, twelve seconds. About what I expected."
Natasha leaned on her knees, gasping for air. Clearly exhausted.
But her character was extremely tenacious. "What about... other people? How long did it take them?"
Other people? Bella thought for a moment, somewhat embarrassed. "I haven't tried it on anyone else yet, so..."
"You used me as a test subject?" Natasha's eyes went wide. "What a wonderful sister I have! Again!"
From nine and a half minutes to five minutes, then to two minutes, one minute—her progress was remarkable. But she was still some distance from complete immunity.
Her determination was strong, but her life experience was still too limited. Unless she could collect positive emotions like Bella's cheat ability, relying on willpower alone would require much more tempering.
The Boston book signing had some hiccups, but overall was quite successful. Fame was often more useful than money—for Bella, the publisher, and Chanel alike.
Of course, money mattered too!
Bella asked Nathan Ingram to inquire with the two elderly businessmen, the Wertheimer brothers, about how much it would cost to buy out Chanel completely.
Given her go-with-the-flow personality, being a minority shareholder wouldn't be bad. But these businessmen weren't like those Swedish tech geeks. Once Chanel recovered, they'd one hundred percent kick her out. That would be disgusting.
Taking over required buying the whole thing. Only then could they discuss restructuring—whether to find new designers or take the company public would need comprehensive consideration.
Though Nathan Ingram was a newly minted billionaire, he'd always maintained good relations with the U.S. Department of Defense. The two elderly businessmen looked down on this American nouveau riche, but didn't want to offend him either. Their final offer was 480 million euros.
Bella retreated immediately. Goodbye! She couldn't afford it!
Four hundred eighty million euros—even if she had a money printer, she'd need to work overtime for quite a while!
She wouldn't use her abilities to do evil—that completely violated her principles. But playing by existing rules, she might not be able to outplay two seasoned business moguls. These men had decades of experience in high-stakes negotiations. Trying to swallow something bigger than herself would be extremely difficult.
Wait a couple more years! Until Chanel declined further. Until she had more money in hand.
The East Coast signing was very successful. When she reached her home turf on the West Coast, the scenes could only be described as enthusiastic.
Charlie's performance had been consistently excellent lately. He'd already been promoted from detective to sergeant.
An LAPD sergeant was completely different from the chief of little Forks. Within the Los Angeles Police Department's thirteen thousand-plus sworn officers, he already counted as minor management.
His promotion was connected to both Bella and Natasha's respective networks. But the relationship with the President was most crucial.
With multiple parties working together, getting Charlie promoted to sergeant was straightforward. Nobody would object. Not worth the trouble.
When his daughter came to LA for a book signing, Charlie was thrilled.
Back home, they'd call it nepotism. Here, nobody even pretended to care. Charlie brought precinct colleagues to support the event and maintain order. Who'd dare cause trouble? They'd shoot first! Even local gang bosses from nearby blocks personally came to buy books. The atmosphere was fantastic.
Touring America's major cities, Bella personally signed over thirty thousand books—her absolute limit... She could only manage it because Natasha massaged her wrists daily.
The first print run of one hundred thousand copies of The Hunger Games Book One had completely sold out during this period.
At $29 per copy, that was $2.9 million in revenue. After the publisher deducted various costs and expenses, they profited around $800,000. Bella's 10% royalty netted her $290,000, though taxes still had to come out...