Chapter 127

When I arrived at the place summoned by the rogue Reaper, sure enough, a distinctly peculiar kid was waving their hand enthusiastically and greeting me with joy.

There stood the Golden Reaper, adorned cutely with two little horns sprouting from their head.

How in the world did these grow out?

Out of curiosity, I picked up the Golden Horn Reaper and started pressing the horns on their head repeatedly.

Oh, they’re so squishy!

It seemed like these horns were influenced by that woman over there.

It was the lady who was called Junior No. 2 at the Yellow Detective Office.

Never seen a Golden Reaper change like this due to someone else’s influence before.

Is it some kind of golden horn synergy?

Or maybe they naturally have the ability to resemble their Attached Human little by little?

The Golden Horn Reaper’s squishy horns had an irresistible charm that made you want to keep pressing them.

They’d flatten when pressed, then bounce back hilariously once released.

The Golden Reaper giggled with a “Hehe” as if ticklish, wiggling around playfully.

With an involuntary smile creeping onto my face while messing around, nearby Objects suddenly lunged toward me.

These must be what summoned me here.

Individually quite weak but armed with sharp scythes—Objects dangerous to humans nonetheless.

Too many for the Golden Reaper to protect a human all alone while fighting.

Since killing each one would be tedious, I’ll just erode the space and dispose of them all at once.

I extended my hand, grabbed hold of the space where the Objects were, and squeezed tightly.

The Objects disappeared along with the space, sucked into a ball-like void.

Once the Objects that had filled the cramped attic vanished, the space felt noticeably wider.

“Wow.”

Junior No. 2 let out a soft exclamation of amazement, clearly impressed by witnessing spatial compression for possibly the first time.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, as if she’d never seen anything like it before.

Looking down at my palm, I saw the Golden Horn Reaper grinning cheerfully.

Even though they’ve grown horns, their personality seems largely unchanged.

Placing them on my open palm, the Golden Horn Reaper spread their arms wide, sharing the joys they’ve experienced recently.

‘Had fun!’

‘So squishy and fluffy!’

‘It was amusing!’

‘Traveled to many places!’

Golden Reapers always convey fragmented stories focused on personal impressions, making them hard to fully understand.

But the sheer brightness and joy emanating from them is unmistakable.

The Golden Horn Reaper kept hopping around, beaming widely, trying to share their experiences.

For reasons unknown, they mentioned their Attached Human seemed troubled.

Do they need help?

Judging by their blissfully clueless grin, probably not intentional.

Surveying the surroundings after hearing the Golden Horn Reaper’s tale, large claw marks covered the area.

Though the concrete wasn’t completely shattered, these marks radiated traces of immense power.

The residue carried such malevolent intent it made my brows furrow involuntarily.

Oddly, the Golden Horn Reaper showed no reaction—perhaps because whoever left these marks ranks higher than them?

Though we’re not in Seoul, better handle this just in case.

And besides, it sounds kinda fun.

***

The Gray Reaper felt oddly more familiar upon meeting again after a long while.

Maybe spending so much time with Reapers has made them seem cuter and friendlier.

Perched on the Gray Reaper’s palm, the cheerful little Reaper bounced excitedly, evoking the warmth of reuniting with family.

Watching this, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.

Should’ve introduced them to the Golden Reapers at Sehee Research Institute earlier!

Curiously, despite neither Reaper speaking a word, the air buzzed with an unspoken conversation between them.

Didn’t the Gray Reaper lack the ability to talk? Strange…

Still, the Gray Reaper surely can’t speak—it’s only logical to trust the elite researcher from Sehee Research Institute over Junior No. 2 at the Yellow Detective Agency.

After happily leaping about, the little Reaper jumped off the Gray Reaper’s palm and landed softly on my chest, wriggling under my clothes before looking up with a toothy grin.

‘Warm!’

‘Cozy!’

As the Reaper seemed to converse through actions, I absentmindedly picked up the fallen diary again.

Its contents remained horrifying even upon rereading.

Given the circumstances, the owner of this diary appears to be the Client boy.

If the boy is indeed the culprit described in the diary, why would he request detective services?

No idea.

My mind spiraled into confusion.

Should I continue the investigation, abandon it, or am I missing something crucial?

To clear my head, I descended from the attic and stepped outside the boy’s house.

***

While following Junior No. 2, whose expression looked increasingly complicated, a thought struck me.

If the Golden Horn Reaper met Junior No. 2 and left home long ago, wouldn’t they have missed the Black Liquid incident?

Hehe.

What prank—or punishment—should I devise for this runaway?

They’d surely jump at the sight of it for the first time.

Having received no intel from other Golden Reapers, I’ll get to enjoy their fresh reaction to the Black Liquid.

Giggling inwardly at the thought, I watched the Reaper happily wiggle their arms while nestled against Junior No. 2’s chest.

***

Exiting the boy’s house revealed a dim alleyway bathed in shadows.

Though sunlight barely reached the street, the circulating air brought a slight sense of relief.

Turning my head, I noticed the emotionless Gray Reaper trailing behind me silently.

Unlike the ever-smiling little Reaper, the Gray Reaper’s pursed lips gave them a slightly puffed-cheek appearance.

Squish. Squish.

Before I knew it, I had hugged the Gray Reaper and started poking their cheeks.

Ah… Definitely signs of Mental Pollution!

Startled, I inspected the Gray Reaper’s expression anxiously.

Please don’t deflate me like a balloon out of anger…

Though expressionless, the gentle sway of their hair suggested they weren’t too upset.

Phew.

As tension eased, I almost bit their swaying locks but resisted—for even amidst growing Mental Pollution, certain human boundaries must remain intact.

Mmmph.

Producing a cookie out of nowhere, the Gray Reaper nibbled quietly.

The little Reaper accepted a cookie from the Gray Reaper, cutting it into pieces to feed me.

Munch. Munch.

A bit overly sweet, yet delicious cookies.

Sitting there enveloped in the Gray Reaper’s furnace-like warmth, feeling fed by the little Reaper, I found myself more comfortable than at home.

Suddenly, the Gray Reaper’s gaze shifted toward the end of the alley.

From the shadowy depths of the dark alley, untouched by daylight, emerged a faint silhouette—the boy slowly approaching.

Though seemingly normal, his presence radiated unease.

This ominous feeling undoubtedly stemmed from reading that horrifying diary.

Despite appearing weary, the boy approached with a welcoming smile.

“!”

The moment light illuminated the boy’s hand, I froze in shock.

His blood-soaked hands, still dripping, made the faint scent of blood feel overwhelming.

“Detective Noona. Noona…”

Seeing the boy’s distorted face, twisted in sadness, triggered an instinctual repulsion that forced me to step back.

Frozen in place like a statue, the boy’s shocked expression hardened.

“Detective Noona?”

The boy looked utterly stricken.

Clomp. Clomp.

At that moment, the Gray Reaper approached the boy, their usually warm yellow eyes now blazing ominously.

***

The boy, drenched in blood, stood there.

Hurt by Junior No. 2’s rejection, the boy appeared outwardly fine.

But to me, he was already dead—not physically moving as a corpse, but destined for death.

As if marked by my ‘Eyes’ for destruction.

This boy was firmly aboard an irreversible train bound for death.

The boy’s mind lay shattered, replaced entirely by Madness.

It felt eerily similar to witnessing death through my own ‘Eyes.’

The boy wouldn’t last beyond ten seconds.

Spotting me, the boy took hesitant steps backward before abruptly stopping, motionless like a broken machine.

Then, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, he collapsed outright.

With the boy’s death, radiant light began flooding the alley.

An explosive surge of blinding light erupted from my tendrils.

What is this?! It’s terrifying!