Inside the club ‘Alice in Wonderland.’
Kang Do-jun and the Tea Party members…. And Clock Rabbit, the owner of the place, all sat facing one another.
“…You squeezed five million dollars out of him?”
“Yeah. He got arrogant, so I squeezed him for more.”
The masked Clock Rabbit looked bewildered.
The Named Evil Spirit ‘Annabelle’.
It was astonishing enough that they had returned after subduing her without much harm… and yet they had faced George Goldwyn, a man notorious for his viciousness, and extracted another one and a half million dollars instead of having their payment cut.
‘What on earth is this man?’
An Asian exorcist who had appeared as if he had dropped from the sky.
Clock Rabbit had given him the job with reservations, but no one had imagined he would achieve this much.
“Eighty percent.”
“…What?”
“I figure I did eighty percent of the work on this job. Twenty percent should be plenty for your side. What do you think?”
Clock Rabbit exchanged glances with the Tea Party members.
They all let their shoulders slump, as if ashamed.
In other words…. The Asian exorcist had done nearly all the work on this job.
That was why he could make such a bold, shameless demand.
Normally, Clock Rabbit took at least thirty percent as a brokerage fee, and sometimes as much as half. But this changed things.
He could lose a remarkable catch like Do-jun by trying to pocket a little more money now.
“I will take twenty percent of only the three and a half million dollars.”
“Huh? So you're giving me the other one and a half million for free?”
“You negotiated that money yourself. Do whatever you like with it.”
“Hmm, you're generous, Boss.”
Kang Do-jun smiled in satisfaction and divided the money.
Through the club's money laundering system, some went straight to him in cash…. The rest went to his crypto wallet.
Then Clock Rabbit spoke.
“Everyone, leave us. I have something to discuss with him alone.”
“…Yes, sir.”
After the Tea Party members left, only Do-jun and Clock Rabbit remained in the room.
Clock Rabbit asked cautiously,
“Thank you for doing such a good job. Thanks to you… our organization's reputation has risen considerably.”
“It was nothing. Just business.”
Do-jun shrugged.
Clock Rabbit asked,
“May I make you an offer?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why not join our organization outright?”
“Your organization?”
“Yes. I will give you the best treatment. It will take a little time, but…. I will even make you my second-in-command. You will earn more money than you can imagine. I also intend to put every resource our organization has at your disposal.”
Kang Do-jun rubbed his chin before replying.
“Sorry, but I don't like belonging to an organization.”
He had devoted his life to ‘Blue Tile’ in South Korea, only to be betrayed.
He had no intention of going down that road again, hence his firm answer.
Clock Rabbit let out a heavy sigh.
“…Do you have something else in mind?”
“Well, I'm planning to build an organization of my own. I'd like to keep doing business with this place when I do.”
Kang Do-jun knew exactly what he wanted.
Once he regained his strength and kept working, word of him would spread, and the bastards at Blue Tile would surely move to keep him in check.
All manner of evil spirits and factions would be drawn to him as well.
Beyond that lay the ‘Day of the Darkest Night,’ three years from now.
To prepare for it fully and survive, no matter how strong I get, there is a limit to what I can do alone.
One person is bound to be powerless before an organization.
I want the organization I build to move like my own hands and feet… a place that will never betray me.
And the sum I had originally planned to raise to build it was around ten billion won.
‘Thanks to the extra payment from the Annabelle job, I've nearly reached that amount already.’
Do-jun smiled, and the man in the rabbit mask nodded as though he understood.
“Ngh, so that is it after all. I suppose… it would not be easy for someone as capable as you to work under me.”
Then, without warning, Clock Rabbit took off his mask.
Beneath it was a handsome middle-aged white man with bright blue eyes.
“My name is Michael Burrard. I was once a Grade B Exorcist with the New York branch. I am thirty-nine. No…. Perhaps age is counted a little differently in the country you lived in?”
“Why tell me all that so suddenly? I'm not planning to tell you who I am.”
“That does not matter. Consider it my way of showing goodwill. I would like us to get along from now on. It is not easy to land a big fish like you these days.”
Do-jun's mouth curled into a slight smile.
‘He's quick on the uptake.’
That was Clock Rabbit—or rather, Michael Burrard—all right.
He had created the shadowy ecosystem of the Underworld Board, managed it through this club, and developed a way to make money from it.
He had a keen eye for business, so it made sense that he had judged Do-jun quickly, too.
‘He thinks I can make him money.’
Do-jun did not mind.
This was America, the land of capitalism.
He had been here for less than a few months… and already someone seemed to recognize the value of Kang Do-jun, the Special Class Exorcist.
“Then I'll share a piece of information as a gesture of goodwill.”
“What is it?”
“The vampires will come for you soon. They might attack this club or come directly for you. So… you'd better prepare.”
“…What?”
Michael's brow furrowed.
“But you said you left no trace at all, did you not? Information could not have leaked from inside, either.”
“Of course I didn't leave any traces.”
“Then?”
Michael looked as if he could make no sense of what Do-jun was saying.
But Do-jun spoke with certainty.
“When I fought them, I was jabbed with their serum for a moment. V-Rise or something… that stuff.”
“You were injected with the serum and came away unharmed? How is that even…?”
Do-jun waved the question aside.
“That's not the point. What matters is that I felt their will when it pricked me.”
“Their will?”
“Yeah. The one at the top is incredibly strong, and this must have made him furious. From my experience, people like that will stop at nothing and search everywhere with a fine-toothed comb. It's only a matter of time before they track us down. Besides, I've been drawing attention by taking more jobs… like this ‘Annabelle’ job.”
“Ah….”
Tension filled Michael's face.
Perhaps it was because of everything Do-jun had accomplished so far, but the Asian exorcist's warning did not sound like a bluff.
“May I ask if you have… a plan, perhaps? Some way to deal with this?”
“There are two choices. Shut this place down and run, or smash them.”
“…What are our chances of beating them in a fight?”
“Hard to say. Less than ten percent, I'd guess.”
Michael lowered his head and sighed.
He looked as though he had just been told he had a terminal illness.
But….
‘I can't abandon the club and run.’
The Underworld Board was a trading platform for exorcists in the shadows, and this club was its foundation.
Both… had taken a great deal of time and effort to establish.
And after years in business, Michael could sense instinctively why Do-jun had brought this up.
“Is there something you want from me?”
“Make me a false identity. I'd like you to help me get a license and set up my own office, too.”
“…And in return, you can definitely protect us?”
“Well, I'll do my best. You'd be paying afterward anyway…. You might as well give me a try.”
He seemed not to consider the possibility of losing for even a moment.
His confidence bordered on arrogance.
But that only made Michael Burrard more certain.
Taking the hand Do-jun held out now was the only way to protect his club and organization.
“Please… protect us from those vampires.”
“All right. It's a deal.”
His next goal… no, his next business deal had been struck.
***
At a safe house in Brooklyn overlooking New York's glittering night skyline.
“Hnnngh! Hnnngh!”
Kang Do-jun lifted a dumbbell that must have weighed well over a hundred kilograms with one arm, his muscles swelling. In his other hand, he held the Navajo secret manual.
He was training his body and practicing Native American spells at the same time.
“Two hundred eighty-nine…. Two hundred eighty-eight…. Three hundreeeed!”
CLANG—!
He finished the last repetition and set the weight down.
“Phew, I feel like I'm finally getting back into shape.”
Perhaps it was because he had been going from job to job.
After spending the past few years in a body without a spirit, he felt his dulled instincts as a Special Class Exorcist sharpening again.
It felt as though he could do anything if he set his mind to it.
But the most important thing still remained.
He immediately placed a hand on the spirit jar in his lower abdomen.
‘Elder, how are you doing?’
When he looked within, the enormous blue beast was still enjoying its feast.
Thousands of vengeful souls absorbed from Annabelle's Domain, along with the evil spirits inhabiting George Goldwyn's warehouse, were being drawn endlessly into Wakan Tanka's jaws.
‘Are you still eating?’
《Quiet, human. I need to eat at least this much before I start to feel some strength return.》
Wakan Tanka's voice carried a weight it had not possessed before.
Do-jun did not need to measure it to know.
The spiritual power Wakan Tanka now held already exceeded what Do-jun had wielded in his prime in Korea, when he had roamed Inwangsan with the White Tiger Spirit. And it seemed likely to grow much further still.
But a bitter smile settled on Do-jun's lips.
‘The engine's a supercar, but the steering's still stiff.’
The problem was attunement.
He and the White Tiger Spirit had been together since childhood, sharing even the sound of their breathing. Wakan Tanka, by contrast, was an unfamiliar housemate with whom he had only just made a pact.
Spiritual power was abundant, but he was much less efficient at controlling it precisely and turning it into techniques.
In terms of raw combat ability, he was hovering at about half his former peak.
That was why… he had to keep studying the Navajo secret manual, if only to solve this problem.
Fortunately, Native American spells had much in common with Eastern techniques based on nature's five elements.
And if he mastered them, he would gain more than better attunement with Wakan Tanka.
‘If I combine the two kinds of spellcraft, I'll have far more options in a fight.
It would be like holding twenty or thirty cards when everyone else had to play with a fixed hand of ten.
As long as enough time passed…. Someday he would reach a level far above the one he had attained as a Special Class Exorcist.
Then he could properly fuck over those shitty bastards at Blue Tile.
Just then,
《Hmm…. Human, something strange is happening.》
‘What is it?’
Wakan Tanka's voice grew urgent.
Uncharacteristically so.