Ultimate Evolution I Became the Master of the World
Chapter 76 The Rules of the Club

Michael wrapped up his calls, making sure he didn't miss a single number in his contact list.

Now, it was just a waiting game.

This kind of curse didn't spread instantly; it had a mind of its own.

"All done here. How's it going on your end?" Michael asked Ethan over the phone while clearing files on his computer. "I've made the contacts. We can head to the club for the deal now. Where are you? Need a ride?" Ethan replied quickly. "No need, I've got my car. Just send me the location," Michael said.

"Got it," Ethan confirmed.

As soon as the location came through, Michael hopped in his car and drove off.

The spot was on the outskirts of the city. A bit remote, but that made sense-dangerous gatherings weren't meant for crowded areas.

On the way, Michael called Freya, the operator.

"Got any info on the Astoria Ghost Handler Club?"

Freya was caught off guard by the question. "Is it a private club? That's not in our jurisdiction, so I don't know."

"Alright, thanks anyway," Michael said, ready to hang up.

"Wait, don't hang up yet. I've got news. The Nikolai situation in Astoria is resolved. A detective will be sent there soon to take over Nikolai's work. You might want to get in touch with him; it could make things easier," Freya added. "A new detective?" Michael's interest piqued. "I'll reach out if I get the chance."

"Okay, I'll send you some info," Freya said.

"Alright then," Michael replied.

After about ten minutes, Michael pulled up in front of a manor on the outskirts.

The location matched.

"Michael, over here," Ethan waved from the roadside.

"This is the club? Looks pretty legit," Michael said, glancing around.

Ethan nodded. "It's funded by a local tycoon. If you join, you might get funded too. When I first joined, a tycoon gave me ten million dollars."

"Sounds shady," Michael remarked.

"It's not that bad. These rich guys are scared of supernatural stuff. We take their money and protect them. Basically, we're their bodyguards," Ethan explained. "Come on, I'll show you the club," Ethan urged.

The manor was impressive, with gardens, fountains, and lawns, showing off the designer's good taste.

"Mr. Gallagher, welcome." Two hostesses greeted them with smiles as they approached a hall.

Michael glanced at the hostesses.

He wasn't checking out their legs but felt something was off. Their smiles were too stiff, almost lifeless.

'Not dead,' he thought, sensing their cold aura.

"The meeting's on the fifth floor," Ethan said.

"Any risks?" Michael asked.

Ethan laughed, "No. This is the club. Transactions are safe here."

"Better be cautious. Your info leak probably came from this club. How else could ordinary people track you down?" Michael said.

"Good point," Ethan agreed.

They took the elevator to the fifth floor.

The hall was luxuriously decorated.

As soon as Michael and Ethan walked in, everyone in the hall turned to look at them.

They recognized Ethan right away but paused when they saw Michael.

"Ethan, just in time. We were talking about you. Not bad, making a fortune in a few days and imprisoning a ghost," a middle-aged man laughed, standing up from the sofa.

"But doing that alone is risky. Why didn't you ask us to help? Let's make money together," he added.

Ethan was clearly annoyed. "Tom Kovac, our last conflict isn't resolved yet, and you dare say that."

It seemed Ethan had a history with Tom.

"Still hung up on that little incident from last time? I thought you'd moved on. We're all in the same boat, so why make a big deal out of it? Who's this? A new recruit?" Tom squinted, sizing up Michael. "His name's Michael, a new Ghost Handler. We're here to talk business," Ethan said. "I hope everyone won't give Michael a hard time."

"We welcome new members, but the rules for newcomers stay the same," Tom said with a smile.

Ethan ignored Tom and led Michael to the side.

"Wait here for a bit. I'll go get the person we're meeting."

"No problem," Michael nodded.

"Be careful. Some of these people aren't normal. If something happens, just bear with it for now. We don't need to deal with them," Ethan said.

"I'll try," Michael replied.

Ethan then left through another passage.

As soon as he left, the people sitting there turned their attention back to Michael.

"A newbie? He looks so young. Is he even legal?" someone asked.

"He looks like a student. It's a shame for someone so young to become a Ghost Handler," another sighed.

"Should we mess with him? We're bored anyway," a man suggested.

"Yeah, we don't want him to end up like Ethan when he first joined, all arrogant because of his abilities. Let's give him a hard time so he knows his place and learns the rules," another man quickly agreed. Two people were drinking at the bar. One of them, holding a glass, walked over with a smile.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm James Sinclair, a member of this club and a Ghost Handler like you." James wobbled over, extending his hand with a smile.

"Michael." Michael shook his hand politely.

But at that moment, Michael felt James's hand was as cold as death.

Simultaneously, a cut appeared on Michael's palm, and an evil eye almost uncontrollably emerged.

A faint red glow emanated from Michael's palm, and a pitch-black handprint appeared on his hand.

"Don't shake hands with him. He's Ghost Hand James. His hand can curse you. How could you be so careless? This thing on you will turn you into a pile of mush in less than three days, and that's just one handprint. If he gives you a few more, you won't last a minute," Tom said, shaking his head and sighing. "You're in a bad spot now. Better let James remove it. Only he can do it."

Michael looked at the black handprint on his hand and asked, "What does this mean?"

James casually sat down and said, "Michael, right? Not only didn't you greet us when you first came here, but you also didn't know the rules. But never mind, we won't hold it against you. Let me be straight with you. For today's deal, we want fifty percent of the profit. But don't worry, it's just this once. There won't be a second time."

"Of course, the money isn't just for me. All club members will get a share. Once you join the club, you'll also get a cut from the next newbie's first deal," James explained.

Michael looked at the handprint on his hand and said, "Is this a rule? Ethan didn't mention it."

"Of course, he wouldn't tell you. He suffered a lot when he first joined, you know, being young and impulsive," James said, shaking his head and swirling his drink. "So, since he suffered, you should be smart about it. Don't you agree?" James asked.

Michael shook his head. "No."

"I only know you just tried to kill me, so..." Michael, who had been calm, suddenly erupted. He pulled out a gun from somewhere and pointed it at James's head.

"A special gun? Michael, calm down." James was stunned, but when he saw the golden gun, he realized something was wrong.

This kind of gun was specifically designed to deal with Ghost Handlers.

The next moment, Michael fired. A golden bullet went straight into James's forehead. The second and third shots followed.

"Fuck," Tom, nearby, quickly backed away in fear.

The others at the bar were also stunned.

What just happened? Why did he start shooting?

Michael emptied the gun, and James's head was shattered. There was no blood, only dark brown, foul-smelling corpse fluid splattering everywhere, filling the air with a rotten stench. When the gunfire stopped, James was motionless, his head a mess, slumped on the sofa.

"This is Michael's rules. Now, who else wants to talk about rules with me?" Michael placed the gun on the coffee table in front of him, coldly scanning the room.