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As for these Yigorosks, they were already proving quite pliable, as well. The baton in his hand drew their interest immediately. He waved it left and right, confirming that their bulbous eyes were indeed following it and not him.

Able to sense its unique aura, no doubt. A good sign. Perhaps they really were psychic.

This baton was actually not one of Lozaro's inventions--a fact which seemed to annoy the man to no end, even if he'd never come right out and say so. Instead, it had been a joint project between himself and Morgunov.

Granted, Morgunov had done most of the heavy lifting in its creation, but Jercash had also dabbled with a bit of inventing over the years. He was nowhere near as brilliant as the boss, nor as prolific, but neither was he an amateur. Plus, Morgunov seemed to appreciate his insight into the way that psychics operated, but at this point, the boss was probably even more of an expert on the subject than he was.

It often went like that. Jercash would spend decades learning about something, deepening his knowledge of the world. And if the boss didn't already know about it, then Jercash would teach him. Then, within a year or so, the boss would somehow know even more about it than he did.

Rather frustrating, if he was honest. But fascinating, too. And kinda funny.

Plus, it wasn't like that happened with every subject. Only the ones that the boss found interesting. And even then, sometimes he'd get distracted by something else, and then Jercash would remain the true expert.

He didn't yet know if that was still the case with psychics. After what the boss had told him about Germal, it was hard to say. Truthfully, Jercash had been planning on dissecting the Liar, eventually. He just hadn't wanted to play that card until he'd gotten to know the man a bit better. And there was that wolf, too, which Jercash had found endlessly more fascinating.

Okay, so maybe he was prone to getting distracted, too.

But the baton. It served multiple purposes. It was a lure, of sorts. Made from the ethereal bones of a hellbeast of Chaos, the soul and feathers of a wrobel, and also the hairs of his favorite dog. That last one didn't actually do anything, but he always liked his inventions to have a tinge of sentimentality thrown in.