Ultimate Evolution I Became the Master of the World

Michael was scrolling through the site and stumbled upon an article about Vengeful Ghost classifications.

He clicked on it and saw a line that said, [Governments classify Vengeful Ghosts based on how much harm they can cause.]

[Note: This doesn't reflect how scary they are.]

[Class C: Restricted.]

[These ghosts are stuck in one spot, hurt less than a hundred people, can be contained by Ghost Handlers, and aren't contagious.] [Class B: Dangerous.]

[These ghosts can move around, are super dangerous, but hurt less than ten thousand people. They can't be contained but can be somewhat restricted by Ghost Handlers, and they spread a bit.] [Class A: Catastrophic.]

[If left alone, they can wipe out a whole city's population in a certain time frame. They're insanely terrifying, can't be contained or restricted, and spread a lot.]

[Class S: Apocalyptic.]

[These can destroy multiple cities and, if not stopped, can even wipe out a country.]

'Classifying Vengeful Ghosts based on harm doesn't reflect their terror level,' Michael thought, finally getting what the classifications meant.

Whether it was a Class C or Class A ghost, the terror level might be the same, but Class C ghosts didn't cause enough harm to be ranked higher.

"The classification is just a guideline and not super useful," Michael muttered, not taking it too seriously. These were disaster levels set by governments, but if you ran into a ghost, you were still toast. What was the difference between dying alone or with a hundred others? Dead was dead.

Michael kept browsing for more info.

Suddenly, a special list caught his eye.

[Global Vengeful Ghost Terror Rankings.]

"They even made a ranking list," Michael mumbled. He opened it and was immediately freaked out.

His face turned serious.

[Top of the Vengeful Ghost Rankings:]

[Code: Ghost Call.]

[Feature: If the phone rings, someone dies, whether you answer or not, hear it or not, or even if there's no phone nearby. It kills indiscriminately worldwide, has no physical form, and is like a causal relationship between events. Currently unsolvable. Luckily, one Ghost Call only kills one person, currently defined as Class B.]

[Note: A foreign president has already died from a Ghost Call.]Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

"What the hell?" Michael was shocked.

It was totally unsolvable. As soon as the phone rang, someone dead, and it didn't matter if the phone was nearby or not, even if you were deaf, you'd still die.

[Second on the Malevolent Spirit Rankings:]

[Code: Nightmare.]

[Feature: People die in their sleep, current activity pattern unknown, spread unknown, no physical form, kills indiscriminately worldwide, once killed 351 people at once, currently defined as Class A.] [Note: Not sleeping can avoid the Nightmare.]

[Third on the Malevolent Spirit Rankings:]

[Code: Ghost Eater.]

Michael felt a wave of despair looking at the Vengeful Ghost Rankings.

Indiscriminate killing worldwide, which made him feel terrified.

No defense, no escape, no warning. If you ran into it, you were dead, whether you were a billionaire, a homeless person, or even a president. Everyone was under the threat of Vengeful Ghosts. People who knew about this worldwide must be freaking out.

"But with so many people in the world, the chances of running into these ranked ghosts are still pretty slim. If you do and get killed, you can only blame your bad luck." After a brief shock, Michael quickly calmed down. "Bathroom break, then back to reading." Michael browsed for another hour, then got up and left the computer.

"Dad, why are you reading the newspaper in the dark? You're gonna mess up your eyes," Michael said as he walked into the living room and noticed the lights were off.

A middle-aged man was sitting on the couch, face hidden behind a newspaper, blending into the shadows, deeply engrossed in the news. He didn't say a word or even respond Michael.

Michael shrugged it off and headed back online after his bathroom break.

He needed to get a grip on what was happening in the world ASAP to figure out how to survive.

The parchment said he wouldn't make it past three months.

But he wasn't buying that becoming a Ghost Handler meant a death sentence.

Henrik had mentioned a way to stop Ghost Handlers from dying due to Vengeful Ghosts coming back.

But Henrik was dead.

The parchment's content had also changed. Michael didn't know what the method was, but he believed there had to be a way to survive.

'While looking for a way to survive, I also need to prepare for the worst,' Michael thought.

[The power of ghosts can affect all matter, except for one thing: gold.]

[Signed: Rafael Morales.]

A paper appeared before his eyes.

Michael opened it and kept reading, but then a phone next to him rang.

He turned to look.

It was Nikolai's satellite phone.

"Who could that be?" Michael answered the call while still reading the paper.

"You dare lie to me, your name isn't David, it's Michael, born on January 1st, and you're nineteen years old." Freya's angry voice came through the line.

Michael wasn't surprised and said, "So you've found David and did some digging? Your efficiency is average; I thought you'd figure it out six hours ago. Don't get me wrong, how could I trust a random call right away? What if it was a scam? Giving you fake info was for my own safety."

"Do you know how much time and effort your lie wasted?" Freya snapped, "I seriously warn you, don't ever do that again. We have tons of cases to handle every day, and if everyone was like you, how could we do our job?" "You're right, but I'm not a detective, so I'm not under your jurisdiction," Michael said coolly.

At that moment, the middle-aged man from the living room walked in and sat on the bed next to Michael. He said nothing, still holding the newspaper and looking down at it.

"Dad, is something wrong?" Michael asked.

The middle-aged man didn't speak, but Freya on the phone asked, "Who are you talking to? You should keep matters like this confidential and not tell unrelated people to avoid causing panic. I should explain the confidentiality rules to you." "I'm talking to my dad. That's it for today, we'll talk next time. I'm busy." Michael was about to hang up.

"Wait," she urged.

Suddenly, Freya's voice rose a few notches, sounding shocked, "Your dad? What's happening over there? I have your file right here. I can see your info from birth to high school. Your dad died in a car accident when you were in fifth grade. Your guardian is your mom."

"And there's no record of your mom remarrying."

"So you've been in a single-parent family since elementary school."

Michael said, "What are you talking about? My dad is sitting next to me reading the newspaper."

After saying that, he turned around.

The middle-aged man sitting on the bed remained motionless, his arm raised, holding the newspaper, covering his face, making it impossible to see his features. The living room and bedroom lights were off, and apart from the computer monitor's light, the rest of the room was dark. In such dim light, it was impossible to read the newspaper.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Michael reached out to move the newspaper.

But then he suddenly saw a black-and-white photo of a middle-aged man hanging on a cabinet in the room.

His hand froze.

"Michael, something's definitely wrong over there. Quick, leave your place immediately," Freya's urgent voice came from the phone.