Seoul Object Story

While filling my mouth with fruit, I thought to myself.

This black butterfly adventure was nothing special.

I wondered if there’d be a chance to destroy the black mirror, but Watson smashed it instead.

Not that I ever felt my abilities were lacking, so I wasn’t really interested in acquiring more.

Even if I did gain some ability, it’d probably just be a cheap knockoff—like summoning a bunch of mini reapers or something, right?

I tried sneaking up on Watson to give him a good whack for being so harmful to humans, but his destruction condition was inconvenient.

[Destroy the main body.]

Simple, yet inconvenient.

Lately, I’ve been seeing objects like this around. Maybe I should head to Seoul Forest and look for one that can find the main body?

They say Seoul Forest’s deeper areas are full of bizarre objects, so it might be worth checking out.

Still, I don’t particularly want to go deep into Seoul Forest.

So, I decided to call it a day after getting some fresh air and headed back to Sehee Research Institute…

When I returned, the researchers’ attitudes seemed off.

Hmm?

The people were oddly friendly—no, they were downright overtly kind.

Other research institute employees started acting like Yerin, leaving snacks around or playing with me.

Sure, it’s nice having more playmates, but not knowing the reason made me feel uneasy.

Right now, a group of four female employees who seem like friends are here, stuffing snacks and fruits into my mouth while giving me massages.

Massaging my limbs gently.

Each person was handling one of my limbs, and though I don’t get muscle pain, for some reason my body feels pleasantly relaxed, probably due to memories from when I was human.

For some reason, I’m feeling sleepy.

zzz

***

While softly massaging the limp limbs, the Reaper peacefully fell asleep with a content expression.

“The Reaper has fallen asleep.”

Without needing to coordinate our words, we lowered our voices and quietly got up.

We covered the Reaper with a blanket and slipped out of the isolation room.

Lately, there’s been an increase in people at Sehee Research Institute taking care of the Gray Reaper.

The Gray Reaper was already strangely popular, but recently, it’s gotten worse.

It wasn’t because of any official order from the institute; it was due to some photos of a horrifying accident that surfaced alongside a report.

A report issued by the Temporary Object Management Agency that had quite significant implications.

Apparently, the Reaper has the ability to chase away butterflies just by lightly touching them.

That revelation sparked a memory among the Sehee Research Institute staff regarding a certain cute action by the Gray Reaper.

Patting near the entrance.

Turns out, that wasn’t encouragement—it was actually removing butterflies.

“It’s all thanks to the Reaper that no infected individuals appeared near our research institute, which is closest to the Songpa District sinkhole.”

It didn’t take long to reach that conclusion.

As a result, the already beloved Reaper became even more adored.

Especially since, while infected individuals with terrifying appearances kept emerging elsewhere, our institute remained untouched.

***

Late at night, the once bustling isolation room with many employees began to quiet down.

With a sleeping cat still purring in my arms, I turned on the TV, which was showing the grandeur of the spirit barrier recently completed in America.

Who would’ve thought a mere wooden wall could be so majestic? If humanity fully mastered how to use these objects, who knows how far we could advance?

But thinking from the perspective of someone who’s become an object, it seems unlikely that humans will ever fully understand objects through their methods alone.

Though it’s not based on logic, I have this feeling that a completely different system of study, something closer to alchemy or magic, might be necessary.

After completing the massive barrier, America lifted the embargo on a certain object and began broadcasting extensively about it.

It was about ghosts that suck the marrow out of people.

While Korea dealt with an object that ate people and mimicked them, America faced a monster that approached as a ghost and sucked the bones out of people.

Korea solved the issue by destroying its origin, while America erected a massive barrier to block spirits.

Though Korea’s solution was cleaner, we currently lack the technology to build such barriers.

Had the detective and I not destroyed the black mirror, the outcome would’ve been unimaginable.

Now is the time we need safety technologies like those barriers.

But with Central Research Institute gone, it’s uncertain whether such research is even possible anymore.

***

After the introduction of America’s grand barrier ended, a familiar face appeared on the news—the president of Daily Object.

Startled, I immediately turned off the TV.

These days, the news keeps repeating the same stories, making it boring.

Butterfly incidents, Daily Object, etc.

Especially, I’d prefer if the news only reported the closure of Daily Object regarding object-related news.

To pass the time, I moved the sleeping ghost cat aside and stepped out of the isolation room, noticing a distinctly changed atmosphere.

There are too few people.

Come to think of it, Yerin, who used to come daily like clockwork, has been coming intermittently lately.

Her absence hasn’t been noticeable because other employees have filled her spot.

It seems like they brought in an object requiring the care of many employees somewhere.

The unusually quiet research institute puzzled me, but as I wandered around, I found a very, very familiar facility.

A spacious and beautifully designed park built prominently inside the research institute.

A scene that could cause trauma somehow made me smile involuntarily.

Could it be that the reason the institute seems less crowded lately is because of this?

Smirking faintly, I began touring all the isolation rooms.

Where are you, damn it!

In pursuit of the future I dreamed of, I set out enthusiastically to find a “cute puppy.”

And finally, I discovered it.

A huge golden doghouse exactly like the one I saw before.

Inside the isolation room I found, there stood a colossal and majestic golden doghouse.

Wearing a meaningful smile, I promptly kidnapped the “cute puppy.”

Isolation room door? Just break it, no big deal.

The “cute puppy” didn’t seem eager to endure the trouble of me going out of my way to seek revenge.

But it didn’t want me coming to its front yard either.

Heh heh, are you ready to pay for five years of frustration at the Seoul Research Institute?

Upon arriving at the fake park set up in the research institute courtyard, I woke the “cute puppy.”

Realizing it had been kidnapped, the sleeping puppy began rapidly growing in size to threaten me.

Its angry expression was just a bonus.

Fact is, I don’t intend to kill the “cute puppy.”

Not for capitalistic reasons like “it makes money,” but because the “cute puppy” contributes to human survival.

Of course, that’s assuming it doesn’t attack me.

I confirmed the destruction condition of the “cute puppy.”

[Physically destroy the heart.]

Easy. Very easy condition.

As soon as I checked the destruction condition, the “cute puppy,” sensing something, retreated like a scared dog.

Woof!

The pitiful bark of the “cute puppy” sounded like it was asking why it was being tormented.

Realizing it couldn’t compete, the puppy shrank dramatically.

Much smaller than usual.

Shouldn’t this make it more like a cute little mouse?

Satisfied with a smile, I approached the puppy.

***

On a neatly grassed section of the park, a puppy was struggling to run on two legs.

The puppy’s labored barks drew laughter from the people, and passersby smiled warmly at the sight.

It was a picturesque park scene.

Above, warm sunlight filtered gently through the leaves, and I rested comfortably under the shade of a tree, enjoying the refreshing cicada sounds.

If I felt thirsty looking at the park, I’d coolly sip chilled water from a glass cup.

I stretched my limbs without a care, resting peacefully.

The two legs of the puppy running around the park looked pitifully wobbly, as if it would collapse at any moment.

Though it appeared to be a happy slice of everyday life, everything about this rest area was fake. The building-contained fake park, the strolling pedestrians—all were pretending, played by acting employees.

Of course, everyone was performing lightheartedly, which was natural.

Because the one who couldn’t afford to make mistakes was the “cute puppy.”

The puppy struggled to run across the field, while the institute employees watched its efforts fondly.

This blissfully happy scenario didn’t end quickly.

Until I was satisfied, the lights of this park wouldn’t go out, even if the puppy collapsed from exhaustion.

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