Chapter 258

Deep inside Sehee Research Institute, a conference room had been prepared where the Tattooed Alchemist (Female) and James were having a conversation.

It was time for exchanging information—interpreting Objects from the standpoint of modern science and Magical Books from the perspective of the Alchemist.

“So, you’re saying all ‘Objects,’ no matter how benevolent toward humans, eventually become harmful when human perception gets warped?”

With an intrigued expression, James summarized what the Alchemist had said.

The Alchemist nodded in agreement and replied.

“True. Even if someone has strong willpower, they might resist a little, but meaningful resistance is impossible.”

She added that no matter how much one resists, perception itself becomes distorted, leaving no recourse.

From the Alchemist’s point of view, there was nothing to do but take mental pollution inhibitors and pray it doesn’t worsen.

“If that’s the case, do these tool-type Objects also inevitably turn harmful?”

James held up a crystal that revealed ethereal beings as he spoke.

“No, not necessarily. Plenty of tools are born evil from the start, but I’ve never heard of cases where they corrupt over time.”

The Alchemist raised her Sword as she continued speaking.

“And ‘Alchemy’ itself, when examined closely, resembles a highly controlled pure tool-like Magical Book at its core.”

James nodded in agreement.

“Hearing it straight from the source clarifies things. There does seem to be something targeting only the Objects with mental pollution.”

James waved around a report stating most Objects were already being eroded by “mental pollution.”

Before hearing the Alchemist’s explanation, this report had been difficult to interpret.

“But isn’t it hard to diagram the degree of mental corruption for self-aware Objects? How do you assess it on your side?”

James compared extreme cases: top-tier Objects heavily corrupted by mental pollution versus weaker ones barely affected.

The Alchemist’s answer was simple.

Just like how even after taking inhibitors, perception can warp suddenly…

Or how a powerless human meets their end the moment they catch the devil’s eye…

It’s just… ‘luck.’

***

It was truly blissful.

The Golden Hungry Ghost Reaper was genuinely happy.

Upon arriving at the researcher’s home, they shared delicious food together.

Afterward, the researcher continuously petted the Golden Hungry Ghost Reaper, who ended up falling asleep in their arms.

They watched TV together, laughed, and shared stories.

Finally, drifting off to sleep while listening to the researcher read a fairytale—it was a perfect day.

But deep into the night, the Golden Hungry Ghost Reaper woke up.

In the small studio apartment bathed in soft moonlight, the researcher slept soundly in bed.

Though tempted to burrow back into the researcher’s embrace, red starlight descended from above.

Lifting her head to look at the ceiling, beyond it hung a crimson star glowing ominously.

As the world turned red under its influence, faint whispers began to emerge.

[….]

[….]

[….]

Like static from a misaligned radio, the whispers were unclear but lingered stubbornly in her mind.

And then, suddenly, the whispers crystallized into clear words.

[Kill the human.]

But the Golden Hungry Ghost Reaper shook her head violently.

That contradicted her very reason for existence! Though once unaware, she now understood clearly:

She was born to be loved by humans and to give love in return, unlike the typical Golden Reapers.

Then the Red Voice questioned what love truly meant.

‘…’

It was a tough concept for the Golden Hungry Ghost Reaper to grasp.

So the Red Voice declared confidently: killing humans *is* giving love.

No!

The Golden Hungry Ghost Reaper shouted loudly in her heart, rising from her seat.

Her reflection in the mirror beside the bed revealed… no longer herself.

***

The Purple Reaper glared furiously at the Muscular Man known as ‘Wrecking Ball.’

Harmful Object!

An Object that killed an innocent old man!

An Object hostile toward attached humans!

Though humanoid in shape, this ‘Wrecking Ball’ was nothing more than a vessel brimming with hatred for humanity—the worst kind of Object.

Despite wanting to slice him apart with shadows immediately, the man raised his hand to stop the Purple Reaper’s charge.

Silently, without a word.

His expression seemed to say, “This is my fight; let me handle it.”

He lit a new cigarette and slowly approached ‘Wrecking Ball.’

The Purple Reaper, impressed by the man’s cool demeanor, sparkled her eyes and slipped into the shadows.

Even hidden, her gaze remained fixed—not on the Harmful Object, but on the distant blue star shining beyond it.

***

The man wasn’t a ‘Selector.’

He was just an ordinary person who wore prosthetic eyes made from a fragment of starlight left behind by his younger sister.

Though created to honor her memory, these prosthetics allowed him to see the flow of power manipulated by ‘Selectors.’

Not long after starting freelance work, people realized he possessed an uncanny talent.

No matter how distant or difficult the target, he could snipe them with incredible precision.

When combined with the heavenly-given ability to perceive energy flows through his prosthetic eyes, magical things happened.

Bang Bang.

The man fired into empty air.

Neither the drone-like steel balls flying through the sky nor those tearing up the ground were his targets.

Instead, he aimed for the force controlling them—the weakest point in its flow.

The menacing steel balls flying overhead crashed to the ground, and those gouging the earth froze in place like pins.

“It’s… impossible!”

With six steel balls now freed from ‘Wrecking Ball’s control, fear began creeping onto the once-confident face.

Only two steel balls remained, orbiting protectively around ‘Wrecking Ball.’

The man loaded another cigarette, took out his pistol, and began precise aiming.

“Can your steel balls really block bullets?”

The rapid-spinning steel balls created a shield-like barrier.

Combined with the protective field enveloping ‘Wrecking Ball.’

At the exact moment the gaps aligned, the man pulled the trigger.

***

Lunchtime arrived, and the Courtyard of Sehee Research Institute buzzed with activity among People.

I rested cozily in Yerin’s arms, who seemed quite tired lately.

Ever since I visited Yerin’s house with the Golden Reapers and she gifted me a doll identical to myself, she’s been exhausted.

Judging by her frantic efforts to find clothes for the doll, it must have been playtime keeping her busy.

Last time I checked, she’d added piles upon piles of outfits to her list.

Hats, shoes, tops, bottoms, pants, skirts, underwear—it was overwhelming just looking at it.

Thankfully, the doll got to wear all that instead of me, which was such a relief.

Still, playing dress-up seemed to boost Yerin’s productivity, as the amount of firewood she produced increased significantly.

If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve given her the doll sooner.

Hehe.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from the firewood.

And, of course, feeling Yerin nibbling on my antennae.

‘Master!’

My peaceful rest was interrupted by the approach of a Hungry Ghost Reaper.

In her arms lay a golden Object glowing warmly like a Golden Reaper.

Its red eyes shone brightly, and it swelled slightly larger than any Golden Reaper.

Emitting weak mental pollution pretending to be a Golden Reaper, this warped Object caught the attention of the Mini Reapers, who all turned their heads.

The moment I saw it, I radiated intense intent.

‘Aaah, a Harmful Object!’

Had it not been in the Hungry Ghost Reaper’s arms, the Golden Reapers would’ve likely torn it apart instantly.

Why did she bring such a dangerous Object here?

Oh no, did this Object hurt an Attached Human, so she brought it for punishment?

Hmm…

Confident in my expertise in torture and mischief, I pondered what the Hungry Ghost Reaper might ask.

But her intent was far different from my guesses.

‘Master, please heal this Object.’

The Hungry Ghost Reaper’s plea carried a desperate longing.