Seoul Object Story

An isolation room with one side made entirely of glass. The walls and ceiling were painted a blinding white.

I stood alone in the empty isolation room, devoid of anything.

Contrary to the employee’s expression who shoved me in here with a look saying “Now you’re finished!”—I didn’t feel anything particularly unusual about Central Research Institute’s isolation room.

If anything was surprising, it was how much darker and more oppressive the atmosphere felt compared to my expectations.

The researchers walking around had expressions as stiff as stone.

The low-level employees directly handling objects looked even worse than those at Seoul Research Institute.

Just looking at their faces, you’d almost think they were the ones being contained, not the objects.

Beeeep!

With an unpleasant buzzing sound, high-temperature steam shot out from the walls. Not wanting to get hit by it, I easily phased through the air using ghosting.

Since being placed in this isolation room, all the experiments have been like this.

At first, they started with firearms.

Buzzing followed by gunfire. Gunfire without buzzing as ambush attempts. Central Research Institute kept repeating these futile actions.

Occasionally, bombs would explode inside the isolation room, various types of poison gases were released, acid-like liquids were sprayed, and liquid nitrogen was poured in.

Considering the diverse destruction conditions I’ve seen for other objects, this approach isn’t bad. But focusing too much on destructive methods is a drawback. Sometimes completely unrelated methods are the answer.

Take, for example, the steel pig statue from the Seoul Forest incident. These kinds of methods wouldn’t uncover its destruction condition.

Of course, since they don’t know that, they keep running these kinds of experiments.

The lizard trapped in the opposite isolation room is another case in point.

Its destruction condition was “[Receiving simultaneous standing ovations from ten thousand people.]”

The front of the isolation room was completely transparent glass, so I could see both passersby and the interior of the opposite isolation room. Inside, a lizard was periodically killed.

It wasn’t physically imposing, just a small blue lizard about the size of a human palm. Aside from its blue coloration, it didn’t seem object-like at all.

The lizard’s true nature became apparent during experiments. It was incinerated into ash by a flamethrower without leaving a single bone fragment, yet after about an hour, it resurrected with a burst of blue flames.

Afterward, relentless experiments continued—melting it with acid, burning it, etc.—but the lizard kept resurrecting.

Eventually, they seemed to give up on killing the lizard and moved it to another isolation room.

I had hoped to be transferred to another isolation room like that blue lizard, but it appeared they had no intention of sending me anywhere else. What’s the difference between me and that blue lizard?

***

In the spot where the lizard used to be, a cat entered. Someone who appeared to be the owner lured the cat into the isolation room with treats and toys.

I expected them to cook and fry the cat like they did with the lizard, but surprisingly, they didn’t. The cat was purely spectral, so it seemed they decided early on not to bother trying anything.

Being a ghost cat that could be seen but not interfered with, it seemed quite relaxed despite being trapped.

But that calm didn’t last long.

Perhaps bored, when the cat tried to stick its head through the glass wall to escape, its calm disappeared instantly.

Its head collided with a solid thud against the isolation room’s glass wall.

Unable to pass through, the spectral cat scratched at the wall with its claws while meowing pitifully. Confused by the situation, its cries grew even more sorrowful.

Could this isolation room have the ability to trap spirits?

Upon closely examining the walls, a cryptic clue surfaced.

“[Grants the director’s wish.]”

Both the walls and the glass windows were classified as objects. They either belonged to the same object or derived from it.

The destruction hint: “[Grants the director’s wish.]”

This was another absurd clue.

A clue where I don’t know who the director is or what the wish entails.

Using an object to contain an object. That’s why the staff looked so confident.

The reason they don’t let me out is obvious. There’s no need to release me from this spirit-trapping prison. If I escaped during transport, it would cause trouble.

Thinking I might not be able to pass through, I stuck my hand into the wall. Surprisingly, there was only slight resistance before it slid right through.

Huh? So passage is this easy?

Though, once my hand was inside the wall, an incredibly loud noise assaulted my ears. Like the cacophony of a packed gymnasium filled with murmurs and incomprehensible voices.

Despite the baffling phenomenon, I decided to push through anyway.

What could possibly happen?

***

An alarm blared throughout the research facility.

Due to indications that the Gray Reaper, a maximum danger-level test subject, had escaped from its isolation room.

The evidence presented in the CCTV footage showed the Gray Reaper passing through a wall. In the video, the Gray Reaper inserted its arm, paused in thought, then slipped its entire body through the wall.

Of course, no one was foolish enough to open the isolation room door based solely on that footage.

Since the Gray Reaper’s intelligence was already documented as extremely high, it was suggested this might be a deception tactic to make them open the door.

Furthermore, since the Gray Reaper wasn’t captured on the opposite wall’s camera, this theory gained traction.

Still, given the possibility of actual escape, all external doors and windows were sealed. All personnel within the research institute were prohibited from entering or exiting.

Field and office staff alike were tasked with finding the Gray Reaper.

Field workers scoured every corner on foot, chasing after any trace of the Gray Reaper, while office staff meticulously analyzed all CCTV footage for sightings.

I was assigned the task of patrolling the interior of the research institute, wielding a large shield in my right hand and a collapsible baton in my left.

Chasing after an ethereal, top-danger-rated object with such minimal equipment is ridiculous. And the target is none other than the infamous Gray Reaper?

Fortunately, it seemed unlikely the Gray Reaper was outside.

Honestly, does it make sense that the Gray Reaper, which hadn’t escaped until now, suddenly attempted to do so?

All the researchers retreated to internal bunkers, leaving only regular staff wandering around. Everyone carried large shields, making even the spacious research corridors feel cramped.

For some reason, the corridors seemed especially dark.

Black butterflies clung densely to the ceilings, enhancing the gloom.

Occasionally, black butterflies fluttered around.

Come to think of it, when did these butterflies first appear? About a week ago?

Nothing unusual.

Nothing unusual at all.

Hmm, this itches.

A black butterfly bit me with sharp teeth.

Wait, do butterflies even have teeth?

They could.

The butterflies began swarming me.

When did this start? Yesterday?

“Hey, why are there so many bug bites on your forearm? Isn’t it still early summer? Are there really that many mosquitoes?”

My patrol partner’s voice sounded distant. Butterflies were flying in thick clouds, obstructing my vision. Were they also clogging my ears?

I can’t see my partner through the swarm of butterflies.

“Hey! What are you looking at? Even if you’re tired, you need to stay focused.”

The butterflies block my way. I can’t walk.

When will they clear out?

This always happens to us field workers. The institute pulls stunts like this all the time.

In the middle of the butterfly-filled field of vision, a piercing yellow light stabbed into my eyes.

It was the intense yellow glow emanating from the Gray Reaper’s eyes.

The Gray Reaper gestured for me to come closer with a wave of its hand.

Ah, I need to report the Reaper’s location via signal device…

But my body won’t move.

Too many butterflies cling to me, preventing movement.

And I’m so sleepy I can’t stand anymore.

I lost consciousness with the Gray Reaper right in front of me.