"Five hundred thousand dollars," he said.

"That's too low for a Rank 3 Cursed Spirit," I quipped.

Zephan laughed so hard that he nearly fell off the chair. "Hahaha! You think so? Well, you'll have to talk to the management if you want more rewards."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure. I'll make an appointment."

He grinned and went to help the others recover their memories.

One by one, their blank looks faded as understanding returned.

The room grew louder and livelier with each person who remembered what had happened inside the domain.

Mira and Lars were already deep in a conversation.

From the sound of it, they were going over the fight in ridiculous detail.

"Can you believe it? I was actually moving faster than ever! The fur legs helped me jump walls and twist midair. It was insane!" Lars said, excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah. You were showing off the whole time," Mira said, waving her hand with a teasing smile.

I had to act as a translator.

"I wasn't!" Lars protested, then laughed. "Okay, maybe a little. But come on, even Alan would agree. I looked cool while fighting with the Cursed Spirit and matching its speed."

Mira chuckled. "You looked like a stray dog trying parkour."

He groaned while everyone around laughed.

Twenty percent of their talk was Lars bragging about his monster legs and how they helped him move.

Another forty percent was them praising Calliope for not breaking down during the fight, even after seeing that horrific Eldritch thing.

The last forty percent, unfortunately, was about me.

Apparently, I was some kind of mythical hero now.

Mira and Lars wouldn't stop talking about how I used telekinesis and magic bullets at the same time, saved everyone, blocked the Cursed Spirit's attacks, and somehow still had enough energy to "cut through the impossible."

It was flattering at first, but after ten minutes, it got annoying. And embarrassing.

Mira must have noticed because she started making it worse.

"Oh, and did you see the way he stood there?" she said dramatically. "Like some ancient warrior. If I didn't know better, I'd think he crawled out of a legend."

I groaned. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe," she said with a smug smile. "Someone has to keep you humble."

Zephan chuckled quietly while restoring Ellyn's memory.

Every few minutes, Mira threw hateful jabs at him.

She still hadn't forgiven him for leaving her behind during the chaos.

All the while, the dog we'd rescued was bouncing around the room.

It wagged its tail at everyone, probably happy to finally have a roof over its head.

After the laughter settled down, I clapped my hands.

"Alright, enough stories. Let's get to the main topic."

Zephan raised an eyebrow. "If you mean the Cursed Spirit Hunter License Test, don't worry. You'll all get the results in a week. If you pass, they'll call you to collect the licenses."

"I'm not talking about that," I said. I turned toward Lars, Selene, and Ellyn. "I'm talking about your contamination. How are you guys planning to deal with it?"

Mira's smile faded immediately.

Her shoulders tensed.

She had been trying to avoid this discussion since we got back.

Selene opened her mouth, but Ellyn spoke first. "The contamination isn't increasing. So there's no need to panic. We're not in danger of Turning."

Turning.

That was what Exorcists called the process of becoming a Cursed Spirit.

Calliope hesitated before speaking up. "W-Why don't you try to get it removed? I can help. My—"

"Calliope, that's enough," Zephan interrupted sharply.

His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Her mouth closed.

She looked down.

'Just as I thought. Calliope must be from one of the high-ranking Exorcist families. Probably the kind that still has access to divine cleansing,' I mused silently.

There were two ways to handle contamination.

The first was to replace it with a stronger one.

It sounded insane, but many used this method.

One example was the Curse of Vampirism, or the "Blessing of the Blood Moon," as vampires liked to call it.

That curse came from the Cursed Spirit known as Blood Moon, a Rank 4 in the States.

Its bloodline contamination had become so common that it turned into a culture of its own.

The thicker your vampire blood, the more contaminated you were.

Dhampirs, who only carried a small trace of it, were the least affected.

Prince Vampires, on the other hand, were deeply corrupted, and thanks to it incredibly strong.

Strangely, none of them had ever turned into Cursed Spirits.

Because of that, the Exorcists in the States openly accepted the Curse of Vampirism.

They saw it as a gift.

It made them stronger with little effort, improved reflexes, reduced their need for food, and made them nearly unkillable.

But that same acceptance was the reason Exorcists from other continents distrusted them.

It was hard to fight beside someone when you weren't sure if they'd lose their sanity one day and attack you.

That tension ran deep.

Still, the American Exorcists were far more competent than others.

Their results spoke for themselves.

Just by numbers, they had exorcised more Cursed Spirits than all the other continents combined.

While others struggled to survive, they were dominating their enemies.

Yet they were still treated like pariahs.

So, in a way, their pride and resentment were justified.

Anyway, replacing contamination with another was one method.

It was risky, but possible.

The second method was divine purification.

Gods.

True Gods were different than the ones written in books or shown in movies.

They were born when massive amounts of positive energy gathered in one place over centuries.

They weren't all-powerful or all-knowing. Just higher beings of condensed energy and will.

Almost all of the known Gods now worked with Major Hidden Clans.

Or so was being told to every Exorcists.

Only the powerful Exorcists knew the Gods were made to work under the Major Hidden Clans whether by force or by benefits.

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