Chapter 13

The moment I stepped out of the Director’s office, what greeted me was a bustling scene of numerous researchers moving about the institute.

However, the strange part was that the isolation room they were all staring at seemed to contain nothing at all.

“Ah, it might look a bit odd. We’re studying the Object, but there’s no sign of any Object anywhere. Let me show you closer.”

Upon getting closer, I could faintly make out some sort of blurry shape inside the isolation room.

“While there’s no actual Object here, we can project the form of Objects existing in reality—be it past Objects or even those yet undiscovered.”

The blurry figure inside the isolation room looked like me—my tired face enduring a barrage of bullets.

Looking around at other isolation rooms, every single one reflected an image of the “Gray Reaper.”

Myself waking up in the forest for the first time.

Me gazing up at the Steel Tower.

Me watching TV in an isolation room.

Me trapped inside the belly of a steel pig statue.

They all displayed my various forms—from the past up until now.

It felt incredibly strange seeing over a dozen people meticulously observing my every move and jotting down notes: when I slightly opened my mouth, when I took a step, even when I picked up a pebble from the ground.

“This is Lab No. 897, prepared especially for you. In fact, we’ve been waiting for you for quite some time.”

Waiting for me? Why on earth?

“I see curiosity in your expression. It ties into a future we’ve been anticipating. There’s a predicted timeline where, within a month of you arriving here, our wishes will be fulfilled.”

“After thirty long years of waiting, we’re finally down to just a month.”

Naturally, wouldn’t you feel inclined to welcome someone under such circumstances?” The Director grinned as he began walking around the facility.

As the Director moved, the lab seemed to stretch endlessly, revealing more isolation rooms and countless Objects.

“Come now, there’s still much more to show you. I’ll guide you to something you absolutely must see.”

At the end of the Director’s brisk stroll stood a massive elevator.

This wasn’t your ordinary elevator.

Typical elevators don’t come with keyholes or complex authentication systems. The Director skillfully operated the intricate device before activating the elevator.

With a meaningful smile, the Director said as he boarded,

“Down below lies the most crucial Object currently safeguarded by the Central Research Institute.”

After descending for what felt like ages, we arrived at a dimly lit basement, scarcely illuminated by sparse lighting.

Its raw concrete appearance exuded either a practical bunker-like vibe or, less optimistically, an unfinished construction site.

Just beyond the elevator was a grated floor, beneath which lay blood-stained concrete and the translucent silhouette of a monstrous creature.

“That’s ‘Hungry Ghost.’ Officially reported as the cause of the Seoul Plaza Incident after escaping during an accident. Though in truth, it was unleashed by the Association in an attempt to assassinate me.”

“The Association announced its success, but here it remains, securely stored in the Central Research Institute.”

Hungry Ghost resembled a fish, albeit covered in grotesque tentacles that eradicated any semblance to aquatic life. Its sheer size—a house-sized monstrosity—gave a visceral sense of scale.

“Hungry Ghost isn’t just known as the Object that eats Objects; I prefer calling it…”

“The Object that devours enemies of the Association.”

“Anyone too capable or simply out of favor with the old guard ended up inside Hungry Ghost’s belly.”

Below the grating, Hungry Ghost was voraciously tearing into something, blood spurting from its mouth with every bite.

“You should pay close attention. Any Object deemed uncontrollable by the Central Research Institute becomes Hungry Ghost’s meal.”

Suddenly, all visible forms around me began warping and distorting.

The Director remained calm, clearly expecting this reaction.

“It seems we couldn’t maintain the illusion indefinitely. Our meeting has been far too brief to fully convey the incompetence, malevolence of the Association, and the power of Hungry Ghost.”

Like cracking ice giving way to the river beneath, the illusion shattered, plunging us back into reality.

“I hope next time we meet, we’ll have a longer conversation. Until then, farewell, ‘KR – 897’.”

And just like waking from a dream, I returned to reality.

***

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself outside the walls of the isolation room where I’d been confined.

Time didn’t seem to have passed significantly.

The institute remained tranquil, clocks indicating minimal elapsed time.

Though I’d ventured into an unusual location, successfully passing through the barriers meant to contain ethereal entities.

A nearby cat mewed enviously upon spotting me emerge.

I silently waved at it, prompting louder, more frantic meows.

While reveling in my newfound freedom outside the isolation room, I noticed butterflies occasionally flitting down the corridor.

Completely black, these butterflies appeared ghostly, likely remnants of an Object undergoing the process of ghosting since nobody seemed alarmed by their presence.

Though not abundant, their sporadic appearances intrigued me, hinting at some underlying incident.

Given their beauty and apparent harmlessness, I followed them optimistically, hoping for a lighthearted encounter rather than something sinister.

***

After chasing these black butterflies for several minutes, an alarm blared loudly throughout the halls.

“The Gray Reaper has escaped!”

“Check all CCTV feeds to track its movements!”

Apparently, my escape had been discovered.

Employees scurried about searching for me.

Meanwhile, I perched atop a cabinet in a busy room, observing the chaos unfold.

Likely a Situation Room or similar operations center.

Despite reports of my whereabouts proving fruitless, my attention was drawn elsewhere.

A cluster of butterflies had attached themselves to a man.

Though incorporeal, the butterflies seemed to weigh him down, his expression weary and burdened.

His vision obscured by swarms of butterflies clinging to him, walls, ceilings, and even mid-air.

Had I been in his position, frustration would’ve driven me to shout—but fortunately, he appeared oblivious to their presence, though constantly waving his hands to dislodge them.

Even cute butterflies become creepy in overwhelming numbers.

Thankfully, these butterflies avoided me, scattering frantically if I so much as nudged them.

The man muttered complaints about the butterflies as he trudged along, occasionally attempting to bat them away without success.

Something felt off once I trailed him out of the Situation Room.

One butterfly nipped at his forearm.

Though seemingly minor, it marked an attack.

The man, who had previously only occasionally noticed the butterflies, now actively tried swatting them away, becoming increasingly aware of their presence.

He also started noticing my ghostly form.

His unfocused attempts to point at me suggested impaired perception.

Was this a slow-killing Object? On closer inspection, it proved far more horrifying.

The man was already dead.

The butterflies had burrowed deep into his body, animating the corpse.

Enraged by this desecration, I dispelled my ethereal state and leapt toward the man.

Assuming the butterflies feared me, I expected to easily drive them off.

I was partially correct, but the resolution differed from my expectations.

The butterflies erupted from the man’s body, causing him to explode into fragments of flesh and blood.

Stunned, I could only gape at the carnage surrounding me—blood, flesh, and screams filling the air.

Did I make a mistake?

***

In a secluded corner of the Central Research Institute’s equipment storage, a secretive conversation unfolded.

“Thank you so much for coming, Senior. With external access restricted and the atmosphere suspicious, I’ve been anxious.”

“No need to thank me. If anything, I’m grateful. The possibility that ‘Hungry Ghost’ might still be alive? I couldn’t miss being part of such a major event!”

Standing before the woman in Central Research Institute attire was a man dressed in a bright yellow suit, completely out of place with the facility’s serious ambiance.

“With the number one detective in Korea here, you can relax.”

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