Ultimate Evolution I Became the Master of the World
Chapter 78 Enigma Elite Club

Michael felt a bit let down.

Why couldn't he kill James, no matter what? It was kinda like Ethan.

But looking at the messed-up James, rotting and stinking, with corpse fluids everywhere, it was clear his situation was even worse than Ethan's.

This guy was also a Ghost Handler on the brink of death due to ghost revival.

"I wanna know, how do you actually kill a Ghost Handler? Seems like gold weapons can hurt but not kill," Michael squatted in front of the grotesque corpse, poking at the rotting flesh with a baton.

James's head was split open, limbs broken, and his face was twisted and deformed. His insides were almost completely rotten, blackened, and stinking.

In such a condition, James could still talk and stay alive. Gotta say, it was a medical miracle.

"You can't kill me. My ghost is very special," James said after a moment of silence.

"Michael, that's enough. This is the club, and you're not the only Ghost Handler here. You better chill," the guy who had been drinking with James earlier frowned and walked over.

Michael suddenly grinned when he saw him, "I just figured out why you guys are extorting newcomers. Because you're all about to die, right?"

"It's gotten so bad that using your abilities a few more times will lead to your death from ghost revival. So you stay in the club, waiting for newcomers. By having them complete supernatural events and making deals, you take the opportunity

to extort and blackmail them. This way, you can sit here and collect money without wasting your abilities," Michael sneered, "That's quite a good idea. Did Ethan suffer at your hands?" The guy who walked over had a serious look.

This was an unspoken rule of the club. Everyone knew it, but no one had ever stated it as bluntly as Michael.

"Since you get it, you should comply. You're a newcomer and there's still some time before the ghost inside you revives, but you will die eventually. As long as you follow this rule, you can enjoy this treatment when new people come in the future. As for James, let's leave it at that for now, but the fifty percent cut still stands," he explained.

"Unless you can take out all the Ghost Handlers here in one go," the guy said with a hostile expression.

Michael glanced around, "Are you provoking me again?"

"If you think so," the guy said.

Tom, who was hiding far away, said, "Michael, I sincerely advise you to follow the rules here. The club's Ghost Handlers aren't just a few of us, there are more powerful ones who haven't shown up today. I don't know how much you know about Ghost Handlers, ghosts, or other matters. But keep in mind, you're just a newcomer."

"Shut up. If you wanna fight, just go ahead." Michael's face showed a hint of terror, his eyes glowing with a strange red light as he glanced at them.

"It doesn't matter if I can't beat all of you. As long as I drag it out until your ghosts revive, I will win," Michael smiled.

His Ghost Realm could be used for five minutes. Exceeding the five-minute limit would increase the likelihood of the ghost inside him reviving. Once the limit was reached, he would die.

But he was more certain that this group's limit wouldn't reach five minutes.

Everyone felt a heavy weight in their hearts. If a fight really broke out, the chances of them dying from ghost revival were high.

"Why so quiet?" Michael said mockingly, "Scared? Or just not willing to risk your lives?"

If they were willing to risk their lives, they would be dealing with supernatural events, not sitting here drinking and chatting, bullying newcomers.

"If you're not gonna fight, then shut up and get lost," Michael kicked James's corpse aside.

"Michael is really arrogant," the guy said, his expression particularly bad as he watched James being kicked aside like garbage.

He almost wanted to rush up and fight Michael. But he held back.

Applause sounded and a young man in casual clothes, clearly wealthy, walked over clapping. He had a faint smile on his face, but his eyes always carried a hint of unusual coldness. "That was quite a show. You must be the newcomer Michael that Ethan mentioned? You're something else. I kinda admire you."

Michael tilted his head and looked at him, "Who are you? Here to lecture me about the rules too?"

"No, you got it wrong. I'm just the guy in charge of this club. Name's Alex Petrov. You can call me Alex," the young man said. "Seriously, Alex?" Michael asked.

Alex smiled, "No tricks here. My name's really Alex. Here's the club's business card."

He handed over a golden business card.

It said, "Enigma Elite Club, Chairman, Alex Petrov."

"Although things got a bit heated earlier, everyone here is special. We shouldn't let a small matter cause a rift. Let's just forget today's incident, okay?" Alex said. Michael looked at him and said, "Ridiculous! You step in after I fought James and won, but where were you when James was bullying me?"

Alex's smile stiffened a bit.

"Here you go." Michael tossed the golden business card back at him.

"You're unfair and incompetent. I don't think your club will last long. I was kinda interested in your Enigma Elite Club before, but now, not so much," Michael said. These people were too short-sighted. They only cared about immediate gains and forgot what really mattered.

They had time to sit here drinking and chatting, bullying newcomers, but didn't think about how to survive and solve their own ghost revival crisis.

So this club was useless.

After seeing this, Michael leaned towards the international police. If he had to choose, he'd go with them.

But only if the ghost revival could be resolved. Otherwise, joining the international police and constantly doing missions would just lead to a quicker death.

Alex's smile faded as he looked at the business card on the ground.

"My original intention in establishing the club was to bring together civilian Ghost Handlers for mutual development and growth, to make money together, face difficulties together, and help each other. The intention is good. Please don't misunderstand. Personal conflicts and misunderstandings shouldn't affect the club's reputation," Alex explained.

"So, the club can't handle anyone talking bad about it?" Michael asked.

"Our club isn't that overbearing," Alex said seriously.

"If it's not overbearing, then you won't mind stepping aside now, will you? I have a business to discuss," Michael pointed behind him.

Alex turned to look and saw Ethan walking over with a few people in suits, looking like financial professionals.

Leading them was a middle-aged woman in a white coat, with a serious and capable demeanor, followed by what seemed to be accountants and finance personnel.

"Susan Thomas, this is Michael. He has what you need," Ethan said as he walked.

"Hello, I'm Susan, the main person in charge of this private acquisition project," the middle-aged woman named Susan said.

"Michael," he introduced himself.

Ethan glanced at James's writhing corpse and his face changed slightly, "What happened here while I was gone?"

"Nothing much. This friend named James got drunk and fell. He felt bad, so he ended up like this. I was a bit scared to help him up, afraid he'd accuse me of something," Michael said.

"That was quite careless. Did you call an ambulance?" Ethan asked.

Michael said, "He doesn't seem to be in serious trouble, just a few scrapes. No need for an ambulance."

"Alright then," Ethan sighed in relief.

Susan, on the side, looked at the guns on the coffee table and the baton with flesh on it.

No matter how she looked at it, it didn't seem like someone just fell. And in such a condition, he wasn't dead.

Ghost Handlers were indeed a bunch of monsters. Spending even a minute more with them was terrifying. Although Susan felt disgusted and fearful in her heart, she didn't show any expression.