Chapter 133

The Golden Reaper’s unexpected reaction made me hastily get up from my seat and fish the Golden Reaper out from the hot chocolate ocean.

Cradling the orb, the Golden Reaper curled up on my palm with its eyes tightly shut.

By the time I noticed, the Golden Reaper had already fallen asleep. Was it having a sad dream? A single tear rolled down from its eye.

I just wanted to see the Golden Reapers joyfully playing hot potato while this letter went viral!

Who would’ve thought you’d believe it so easily….

With the Golden Reaper still resting on my palm, I kept pondering over the situation.

How should I resolve this mess?

This is more headache-inducing than fighting off Hungry Ghosts.

Solution #1:

[Make it seem like I’ve removed the curse by taking away the orb.]

Pros: The Golden Reaper becomes happy. No one gets hurt—world peace achieved!

Cons: If discovered, it’ll lead to bigger problems. There’s no telling how furious the Golden Reaper might get.

My neutral Reaper inside suggested this solution.

It was the route where everyone lived happily ever after.

But no matter how I thought about it, Solution #1 seemed impossible.

If deceiving the emotionally sensitive Golden Reaper were easy, accidental black slime attacks would have been possible by now.

Solution #2:

[Apologize properly and go straight for the breakthrough.]

The good Reaper inside me suggested this option.

The direct approach is always right.

If I’m wrong, I should apologize.

Looks like apologizing is the better choice after all.

There was also Solution #3 proposed by the evil Reaper inside me, but I scrapped it.

It wasn’t a plan where everyone would be happy, and if exposed, it’d be high-risk-low-return disaster.

Deciding on Solution #2, I gently tried to take the orb from the Golden Reaper’s grasp using my fingers.

But oh boy, it was holding on so tightly that there was no sign of letting go.

When the Golden Reaper woke up and saw me, it trembled even more, pulling the orb closer as if afraid I’d snatch it away.

I gave up trying to grab the orb and instead stroked the Golden Reaper’s head softly to convey my intent.

“Actually, I made that. Sorry.”

As soon as those words left my lips, the Golden Reaper looked up at me with wide eyes.

Then, when I destroyed the orb in its arms and created a new one, it started crying again.

I held the Golden Reaper close and slowly stroked its head.

“Yeah, it was just a prank. The Attached Human isn’t going anywhere. Don’t cry.”

“Sorry.”

“I won’t do it again.”

Until the Golden Reaper stopped crying, I kept stroking its head gently.

***

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the office window, casting long shadows over the towering pile of documents on my desk.

After sitting rigidly for too long working, fatigue weighed heavily on my shoulders.

With Senior Jungloe busy and Unnie Seoah occupied, all the simple paperwork fell to me.

“Ugh…”

Stretching my arms above my head relieved some tension in my stiff shoulders, bringing a satisfying sense of relief.

There was so much preparation needed for James’ sudden proposal of Sehee Research Institute’s trip to America.

Not only did we need to submit paperwork to the Korean Object Association for special object export, but also piles of forms for the American Object Association.

Mountains of formats, applications, and documents awaited us for the U.S. trip.

But finally, all the troublesome documents were submitted.

“At last, it’s done!”

Leaning back in my chair, I exhaled contentedly, momentarily freed from the endless cycle of work.

The Korean Object Association sure demands an insane amount of paperwork—it feels like every time I finish one, another pops up.

Of course, once replies to the submitted documents come back, tomorrow-me will have plenty of tasks waiting, but today-me can relax.

Finally, a moment of rest.

My heart began racing at the thought of visiting the Reaper next.

Getting up, I turned off the lights in the now-empty office and stepped outside.

Thinking about meeting the Reaper brought an involuntary smile to my face.

Once I reach the isolation room, I’ll give the Reaper a big hug and roll around on the bed together!

But upon arriving at the Reaper’s isolation room, a shocking scene unfolded.

The Reaper…

The Reaper is wearing clothes!

A large water-made witch hat and a water-made scarf adorned the Reaper, who sat quietly on the bed watching TV.

And cradled in its hands was a similarly dressed Golden Reaper giggling “hehe” while watching TV together.

Around them, other Golden Reapers wearing witch hats were happily running around.

Their matching outfits made them look incredibly joyful.

The Reaper is wearing clothes…

Am I dreaming?

Could it be that the paperwork isn’t finished yet, and I’ve fallen asleep from exhaustion?

Pinching my cheek confirmed the sharp sting—I’m not dreaming.

So it’s real.

Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I began snapping photos of this rare sight.

A picture of the Reaper and Golden Reaper in matching outfits?

It’s so rare someone might trade their house deed for it.

Kon kon.

When the Golden Reaper tapped its hand, the Reaper tenderly stroked it with its finger.

The Reaper’s unusually gentle and careful touch made the Golden Reaper giggle endlessly.

It was as if the Reaper had awakened maternal instincts—a completely transformed demeanor.

If I were to title this photo, it would be something like this:

[Kind Reaper and Golden Reaper Family Portrait]

***

The day to depart for America arrived.

Stepping out of the institute vehicle, the calm morning air and chilly pre-dawn breeze greeted me.

A fleeting moment of tranquil peace filled the space before the sun fully awoke.

Soft blue light seeped over the horizon, casting a serene glow on everything it touched.

Feeling the cool sunlight directly on my skin felt oddly comforting.

Maybe because life had been suffocating thanks to the Golden Reaper wanting to play dress-up.

Even though I promised to grant one wish, asking for matching outfits was surprisingly modest for an object supposedly replicated from me.

If they had a similar personality to mine, they’d probably ask for a Cursed Letter mk.2 by now…

Following Yerin slowly toward the airport, the atmosphere grew increasingly unfamiliar.

The usually bustling airport was eerily quiet, its emptiness unsettling.

Did they clear out the entire airport just for my trip to America?

Chal bak chal bak.

Entering the airport, my suspicions were confirmed—the desolate halls echoed with Yerin’s heels and my barefoot steps.

If they’re going to empty it of people, why not use a military airport instead?

Since I’m no expert, I decided to let it slide, assuming there must be a reason.

Still, using a civilian airport this way felt like a covert operation—and kind of fun.

Hehe.

In the middle of the airport hall, James and his entourage came into view.

Finally, off to America!

***

A massive emerging city located in the eastern United States.

James City.

As the name suggests, it was a city built and funded by James—a colossal urban sprawl.

Preparations were underway at the outskirts airport to welcome the Sehee Research Institute team from Korea.

Early morning at James Airport, while supervising preparations, I spotted something strange.

“Wh-what is that?”

A cylindrical pillar riddled with countless holes towered beyond the skyscrapers, appearing suddenly overnight.

How could such a huge structure appear in just one night?

“Team Leader, there’s nothing there?”

Moreover, my subordinates acted as if they couldn’t see the pillar at all.

Either I’ve gone crazy, or everyone else has.

Given the options, it’s more likely everyone else lost their minds.

Shaking off my staff’s protests, I slowly approached the location of the pillar.

“Phenomenon resembling Object-induced Mental Pollution detected. Requesting dispatch of response team!”

From afar, voices calling for a response team could be heard.

Haha, they don’t even realize they’re polluted and are calling for help themselves.

Anyway, what should we do in situations like these?

Let’s pull out the recorder.

“There’s an unusual structure visible. White in color, a tall pillar shape with numerous holes.”

“Judging by the fact that only I can perceive it, everyone else seems affected by Object-induced Mental Pollution.”

“I will proceed to investigate the nature of this pillar.”

Of course, approaching Objects recklessly is dangerous, but given the emergency, there’s no choice.

Passing through countless security systems, I finally reached the supposed location of the Object.

But the enormous pillar vanished, replaced by a massive barrier and gate instead.

The very reason James City exists.

An immense barrier encircling an entirely Object-transformed district, irreversible without Manager-level clearance.

Standing before this barrier gave me a revelation-like sensation.

“Open the gate.”

At that moment, I remembered the test I had repeated endlessly to gain Manager privileges.

“If your mind is sound and you feel compelled to open the gate, press the red button.”

Pressing the red button firmly, I promptly blacked out.