Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Chapter 13. Protect Wonderland

Inside the club ‘Alice in Wonderland.’

Kang Do-jun, the Tea Party members... and the owner of this place, Clock Rabbit, all sat facing one another.

“...You squeezed five million dollars out of him?”

“Yeah. He was acting cocky, so I squeezed out some extra.”

A baffled look crossed Clock Rabbit's masked face.

The Named evil spirit, ‘Annabelle.’

It was already astonishing that he'd returned after dealing with it without any major losses... yet instead of having his payment reduced by the notoriously vicious George Goldwyn, he'd extracted another one and a half million dollars.

‘What the hell is this guy?’

An Asian exorcist who had appeared out of nowhere as if he'd fallen from the sky.

They had given him work with half-doubtful expectations, but no one had imagined he'd produce results like this.

“Eighty percent.”

“...What?”

“I'd say I did about eighty percent of the work on this mission, so twenty percent should be enough for your cut. What do you think?”

Clock Rabbit exchanged glances with the Tea Party members.

They all lowered their shoulders, looking ashamed.

Which meant... the Asian exorcist had indeed done nearly everything during this mission.

That was why he could make such a brazen demand with complete confidence.

Normally, the brokerage fee was at least thirty percent, sometimes even half... But under these circumstances, the situation was different.

If he got greedy over a little immediate profit, he could end up losing a prize like this.

“We'll take twenty percent only from the original three and a half million.”

“Hm? So you're giving me the extra one and a half million for free?”

“You negotiated that money yourself. Do whatever you want with it.”

“Hmmm. Boss sure is generous.”

Kang Do-jun smiled in satisfaction and divided the money.

Through the club's laundering system, some immediately became cash... and the rest entered Do-jun's crypto wallet.

Then Clock Rabbit spoke.

“Everyone leave. I need to talk to him privately.”

“...Yes.”

Once the Tea Party members left, only Do-jun and Clock Rabbit remained in the room.

He asked cautiously.

“I truly appreciate what you did. Thanks to you... our organization's reputation has risen quite a bit.”

“It's nothing. Just business.”

Do-jun shrugged.

Clock Rabbit asked.

“May I make you an offer?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why don't you officially join our organization?”

“Organization?”

“Yes. I'll give you the best treatment possible. It'll take a little time... but I'll even give you the number-two position. You'll make money beyond anything you can imagine. I'll also mobilize every resource this organization possesses to help you.”

Kang Do-jun rubbed his chin before answering.

“Sorry, but I don't like belonging to organizations.”

Do-jun had once devoted his entire life to South Korea's ‘Cheongwa,’ only to be stabbed in the back.

It was a firm response born from having no intention of repeating the same mistake.

Clock Rabbit let out a deep sigh.

“...Do you have something else in mind?”

“Yeah. I'm planning to build an organization of my own. I'd still like to keep doing business with you afterward, though.”

Kang Do-jun's thinking was clear.

The moment he regained his strength, continued operating, and his name started spreading, the bastards in Cheongwa would definitely begin keeping him in check.

All kinds of evil spirits and other factions would come after him as well.

And beyond that, there was the ‘Day of the Darkest Night’ three years from now.

To properly prepare for and survive that day, there would be a limit no matter how strong he became.

An individual was inevitably powerless before an organization.

The organization he built needed to move like his own hands and feet... a place that would never betray him.

And the amount he'd initially estimated needing to build such an organization was roughly ten billion won.

‘Thanks to the bonus I squeezed out during the Annabelle job, I've practically reached that amount already.’

When Do-jun smiled, Rabbit Mask nodded as if he understood.

“Ghh, so that's what it is. Well... I suppose it wouldn't be easy for someone as capable as you to work under me.”

Then Clock Rabbit suddenly removed his mask.

Revealed beneath it was a handsome middle-aged white man with vivid blue eyes.

“My name is Michael Burrard. I was once a B-rank exorcist with the New York branch. I'm thirty-nine... though perhaps age is counted a little differently in the country you came from?”

“Why tell me that all of a sudden? I don't plan on revealing anything about myself.”

“Doesn't matter. Think of it as my way of showing goodwill. I'd like us to get along from now on. It's not easy to hook a big fish like you these days.”

Do-jun smirked.

‘He's perceptive.’

It was exactly what he'd expect from Clock Rabbit—or rather, Michael Burrard.

He had created the shadow ecosystem known as the Underworld Board.

He managed it around this club and turned it into a profitable business model.

He was quick when it came to money, and that was probably why he'd also judged Do-jun's value so quickly.

‘He thinks I'm profitable.’

Do-jun didn't dislike that at all.

This was the land of capitalism.

He hadn't even been in America for a few months... yet it already felt like someone had recognized the value of Kang Do-jun, the special-class exorcist.

“Then as my own gesture of goodwill, I'll give you one piece of information.”

“What is it?”

“Vampires will be coming soon. Either they'll storm this club, or they'll come directly after you. So... you'd better prepare.”

“...What?”

Michael's brow furrowed.

“But didn't you say you left absolutely no traces behind? And there's no chance information leaked from inside our organization.”

“Of course I didn't leave any traces.”

“Then?”

Michael looked as though he couldn't understand what Do-jun was saying at all.

But Do-jun spoke with complete certainty.

“When I fought those bastards, I got jabbed once with that serum. V-Rise or whatever it was called.”

“You were injected with the serum and you're fine? No, how is that even—”

Do-jun waved him off.

“That's not the important part. What's important is that when I got injected, I felt their will.”

“Their will?”

“Yeah. Whoever's at the top of those bastards is extremely powerful, and he's probably furious over what happened. From my experience, someone like that will search every inch of this city by any means necessary. It's only a matter of time before they track us down. Besides, I've kept doing jobs and attracting attention... Like this whole ‘Annabelle’ incident.”

“Ah...”

Tension filled Michael's face.

Perhaps because of all the results the Asian exorcist had shown him so far.

His warning didn't sound like empty bluffing or bravado at all.

“Could I ask if you have some sort of countermeasure... some method?”

“There are two choices. Shut this place down and run. Or smash them.”

“...What are the odds we win if we fight them?”

“Hard to say. Probably under ten percent.”

Michael lowered his head and let out a long sigh.

He looked as if he'd just been diagnosed with a terminal illness.

But...

‘I can't abandon the club and run.’

The Underworld Board, a trading platform for underworld exorcists, and this club that served as its foundation.

Both had taken an enormous amount of time and effort to establish.

And after doing business this long, Michael could instinctively tell something else.

Why the man had brought this subject up.

“Is there something you want from me?”

“Create a fake identity for me. Help me get a license and establish my own agency.”

“...And in exchange, you're saying you'll definitely protect us?”

“Well, I'll try my best. Payment's afterward anyway... Doesn't hurt to make use of me, right?”

He didn't seem to entertain the slightest possibility that he would lose.

His attitude was so confident it bordered on arrogance.

And precisely because of that, Michael Burrard became even more certain.

Taking the hand being extended to him was the only way to protect his club and organization.

“Please... protect us from those vampires.”

“Good. Deal.”

Another goal... no, another business deal had just been established.

***

Inside the Brooklyn safehouse overlooking New York's dazzling nightscape.

“Huuup! Huuup!”

Kang Do-jun lifted a dumbbell easily weighing over a hundred kilograms with one arm, flexing his muscles, while holding the Navajo secret manual in the other hand.

His body and Native American sorcery.

He was training both at once.

“Two hundred eighty-nine... two hundred eighty-eight... three hundreeeed!”

Thud!

He completed the final repetition and set the equipment down.

“Haaa. Feels like I'm finally getting back into shape.”

Maybe it was because he'd been running mission after mission.

The instincts he'd once had as a special-class exorcist, dulled over the past few years while living without a spirit, were starting to sharpen again.

It felt like he could do anything if he put his mind to it.

But the most important matter still remained.

He immediately placed a hand over the tobangguri in his lower abdomen.

‘Elder, doing well?’

When he looked inward, the enormous blue beast was still enjoying its feast.

Thousands of vengeful spirits sucked in from Annabelle's Domain and the malicious spirits inhabiting George Goldwyn's warehouse were continuously being drawn into Wakan Tanka's maw.

‘Still eating?’

《Quiet, human. I need at least this much before I start feeling some strength return.》

There was a weight in Wakan Tanka's voice that hadn't been there before.

Do-jun didn't need any measurement to tell.

The total amount of divine power this spirit now possessed had already surpassed the power he'd wielded at his peak in Korea, when he roamed Inwangsan Mountain with the White Tiger Spirit, and it still seemed capable of growing much further.

Yet a bitter smile formed on his lips.

‘The engine's a supercar, but the steering is still stiff.’

The problem was resonance.

Unlike the White Tiger Spirit, who had shared every breath with him since childhood, Wakan Tanka was a strange new roommate he'd only recently contracted with.

Divine power overflowed, but his efficiency in controlling it precisely and turning it into techniques was still lacking.

Objectively speaking, his current combat power was hovering around half of his old peak.

That was why... he had to continue mastering the Navajo secret arts if he wanted to solve this problem.

Fortunately, Native sorcery had many similarities to Eastern sorcery, both drawing on systems rooted in natural elemental forces.

And once mastered properly, it offered benefits far beyond simply improving his resonance with Wakan Tanka.

‘If I combine the two systems, the versatility of my combat style will expand enormously.’

While everyone else fought with a fixed hand of ten cards, he'd be fighting with twenty or thirty.

Eventually, given enough time... he would reach a realm far beyond where he'd stood as a special-class exorcist.

And then he'd finally be able to give those Cheongwa bastards exactly what they deserved.

That was when.

《Hmm... Human, something strange is happening.》

‘What's wrong?’

Wakan Tanka's voice became urgent.

Uncharacteristically so.

The Catastrophe-Class Exorcist Is Too Strong in America

Author

: Gisigami

Production Date

: September 15, 2026

Publisher

: ACES Media Co., Ltd.

Editor

: ACES Media Editorial Team

Address

: 12F, Urban Bench Building, 325 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul

Email

: acesmedia9@gmail.com

※ This work was published by ACES Media Co., Ltd. under contract with the copyright holder,

and its contents may not be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and the author.

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UCI

: G720:N+A129-20260914068