Chapter 126

Plop plop.

Out of sheer boredom, I decided to wander around the research facility.

I was on a hunt for any new Objects that might’ve arrived, but alas, there were none to be found.

Could it be that my figurine sales are doing so well they’ve halted all new research activities?

Just then, something familiar caught my eye—a golden doghouse that sparkled more than ever before.

The once humble lump had grown bigger and shinier into a grand golden mass.

Inside this luxurious abode, the “Cute Puppy” was wreaking havoc as if it owned the place.

Surrounding it were the researchers from Sehee Research Institute, scrambling to maintain control over the chaotic scene.

It seemed the Cute Puppy had been enjoying itself in my absence, exuding an aura of pure bliss.

With a confident smirk, it strutted about, treating the researchers like its personal minions.

Something felt off—this wasn’t just a beloved pet anymore; it had transformed into some sort of tyrannical ruler.

No longer content with being adored, it now demanded submission.

Using ghosting techniques, I entered the isolation room to find the puppy had grown monstrously large since we last met.

Its newfound size seemed to have inflated its ego too, as it barked loudly at me upon sight.

“How dare you enter MY containment without permission!”

That was the vibe radiating from its ferocious growls.

Luckily, it still recognized me. Its form shrank dramatically until it was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.

Then, it flopped onto the floor, cooing softly while gazing up at me with those big, shiny eyes.

Cutest act ever? Nope. Not buying it.

You’re bipedal, remember?

*

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of water droplets woke the boy from his slumber.

Every time he opened his eyes, the same horrifying reality greeted him.

He wanted desperately to believe it was all a dream, but no such luck—it was real.

“Hnngh…”

With trembling hands, the boy carefully lowered the corpse hanging from the ceiling onto the bed.

Gently wrapping the body in a thin sheet, he whispered through tears, “Sis…”

Despite the sorrow, he tried hard to piece together what happened after parting ways with Detective Noona.

But the memories were fuzzy, leaving only unanswered questions:

“Who could’ve done this?”

“Why am I still alive?”

“What if the killer comes back?”

“Am I next?”

“Now I’ve lost everyone… Sister, Mom, Dad…”

Trapped alone in the dark cell, fear clawed at his mind, yet determination burned within him. This was his chance to escape while the perpetrator was absent.

Pushing against the iron bars cautiously, they surprisingly gave way without resistance.

Why wasn’t the door locked?

Swallowing hard, the boy stepped out into the eerily silent corridor.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His sneakers echoed through the empty underground hallway lined with cells containing dangling corpses—people he knew.

Each face brought fresh waves of terror as if someone had deliberately arranged them for maximum psychological impact.

“Who would do such a thing?”

Shaking violently, the boy pressed onward toward the end of the hall.

There, blocking his path, stood a massive iron door sealed tightly shut.

Summoning courage, he pushed it open effortlessly, revealing a bizarrely lit space beyond.

A staircase bathed in bright light loomed ahead, contrasting sharply with the crimson-painted courtyard leading up to it.

In the center of the meticulously arranged room sat a decrepit concrete block resembling ruins salvaged from an ancient site.

On its surface, a red circle drawn in fresh blood pulsed ominously, drawing him closer despite his instincts screaming otherwise.

Turning away hastily, the boy made for the stairs instead, hoping against hope they led to freedom.

*

Morning turned to noon as I paced around the boy’s neighborhood, phone glued to ear trying to contact authorities.

After discovering what appeared to be a major crime scene, I called the police—but their response left me baffled: “Not our jurisdiction.”

Turns out this city doesn’t even have official police forces. Instead, there’s a self-appointed vigilante group called the ‘RS Autonomous Committee.’

Contacting them yielded similar results—they refused to venture into areas labeled ‘Black Rust.’

“Doesn’t make sense!”

Frustrated, I pulled out my stash of Gray Reaper Pudding, the deity of sweets’ favorite snack.

Expensive but delicious, it became our go-to treat despite rumors of its Object origins. So far, no side effects!

Spoonful by spoonful, the Gray Reaper munched happily alongside me.

“Your turn, my turn.”

Before long, lunch was devoured entirely, leaving both of us craving more.

Ruffling the little guy’s head affectionately, I stood up.

No cops, no committee—I guess it’s up to me.

Entering the boy’s house revealed an unusually spacious interior for one so young.

Scratches covered every wall and piece of furniture, suggesting something monstrous had been here recently.

Judging by the claw marks reaching two meters high, whatever attacked must’ve been enormous—a wolf standing four meters tall!

I jotted down notes furiously. A beast this big would surely leave witnesses behind…

As I scoured the chaos-filled home, the Gray Reaper perched calmly on my palm remained unresponsive.

Odd. Normally great at sniffing out evil Objects, why isn’t it reacting now?

What happens if the client disappears before solving the case?

Would Detective Sunbae care? Probably not—he solves mysteries effortlessly without much thought.

“Well, whoever they are, they’d probably say something like…”

“‘Not sure exactly, but the culprit is north! Let’s go!’”

Whatever logic drives them remains unclear. Maybe it’s a trade secret?

After thoroughly searching the premises, I came up empty-handed.

Splash splash.

Suddenly, the Gray Reaper began tapping my hand insistently.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

Pointing upward, it directed my gaze toward a square mark on the ceiling.

Standing on a chair, I pressed firmly, triggering a ladder to descend noisily.

Climbing up revealed a peculiar attic filled with claw marks unlike anywhere else in the house.

Unlike other rooms devoid of life, this one bore clear signs of recent activity.

A mess everywhere except for a single rickety desk untouched amidst the disorder.

Upon it lay a notebook filled with angry scribbles—a diary brimming with curses aimed at others.

Vows to kill, hatred for family members who bullied him, resentment toward the city ignoring discrimination against Black Rust residents—all vented bitterly onto paper.

Especially damning were entries targeting RS, the man credited with founding the city.

Immersed in reading, I barely noticed the sudden sharp noise slicing through air.

Whisk!

A blade swung dangerously close to my neck, narrowly avoided thanks to the Gray Reaper leaping heroically into action.

Poomph!

The sickle-like weapon shattered harmlessly against its glowing barrier.

Startled, I fell backward as the Gray Reaper faced off fiercely against the source—a grotesque black mass emerging from beneath the desk.

*

Beautiful piano music drifted melodically through the isolation chamber.

The musician? None other than the Blue Lizard.

In perfect harmony danced another figure—the Bipedal Cute Puppy.

Though exhausted from hours of relentless dancing, the puppy showed surprising resilience until inspiration struck.

Summoning two Golden Reapers via holographic projection, I offered them positions as official puppy handlers.

Terms included daily Gray Reaper Pudding and duties ensuring the puppy didn’t terrorize humans further.

To my delight, they agreed instantly.

Handing over responsibility, I felt an urgent call demanding immediate attention.

Recognizing the plea, I took flight using Penguin powers.

*

Panting heavily, I surveyed the battlefield surrounding me.

Dozens of spider-like Objects armed with deadly scythes circled menacingly.

Battle scars throbbed painfully across my body.

Though powerful, the Gray Reaper struggled under sheer numbers.

Whenever it lunged forward, these creatures targeted me directly, forcing it to prioritize protection over offense.

Sorry, buddy.

Because of me, you can’t fight properly…

Then suddenly, the Gray Reaper let out a roar, its golden horn blazing brilliantly.

A mysterious force rippled outward, distorting reality itself.

Gray light enveloped everything, rewriting the world around us.

At its heart stood the true master—a towering figure cloaked in shadowy gray robes.

The Gray Reaper.

Objects froze mid-motion, stunned by its presence. Even the air grew heavy with anticipation.

Levitating the smaller deity curiously, the Gray Reaper examined it intently, pressing horns experimentally.

Squish. Squash. Spring!

Amusement flickered briefly across its stoic features, easing the oppressive atmosphere slightly.

Seizing the moment, rogue Objects charged recklessly.

Raising a hand lazily, the Gray Reaper clenched a fist.

Crack.

With minimal effort, the entire attic imploded inward, compressing enemies into a single black mass.

Effortless destruction rendered all prior struggles meaningless.