Chapter 184

It was an open lot filled to the brim with teeth that were far too large to be human, yet unmistakably shaped like them.

A faint scream echoed through the air, as if the source was on the verge of losing their breath entirely.

“Kee… eek… exk.”

With all its teeth pulled out, the Butler Hungry Ghost had grown brittle like parched sand and crumbled away into nothingness.

At the same time, the mountainous piles of teeth began to crumble as well.

Unfortunately, this was the last remaining Butler Hungry Ghost.

Despite extracting enough teeth to pile up the entire open lot, we had failed.

The plan to revert the Tooth Hungry Ghost into a Cute Hungry Ghost had ended in failure.

Thanks to its regenerative abilities, no matter how many teeth we pulled, they kept growing back.

Once the regenerative power was exhausted, the Butler Hungry Ghosts turned to dust and vanished.

How disappointing.

Without those teeth, it probably would’ve been quite adorable…

Thinking about it now, I might’ve done something slightly akin to torture. Are the Mini Reapers okay?

I half-expected them to look at me with disdain, like someone staring at trash, but instead, the Mini Reapers just stared at me with completely blank expressions.

In fact, when I glanced at them, they tilted their heads curiously, as if asking what the problem was.

Typical behavior from kids who show no mercy toward anything harmful to humans.

Suddenly curious, I squatted down and picked up one of the Golden Reapers, holding it in my hand.

When I stuck my finger into its mouth for inspection, I could feel tiny little teeth against my fingertip.

Being only palm-sized, the Mini Reaper naturally had very small teeth.

The Mini Reaper’s teeth were undeniably cute, so why did they seem creepy when attached to a Hungry Ghost? Probably just a size issue since the Hungry Ghost’s teeth were enormous.

They were absolutely massive, even compared to the Hungry Ghost’s head size, which made them seem abnormal.

While idly fiddling with the Golden Reaper’s mini teeth, I noticed it tensing up more and more.

Thump-thump.

Though Golden Reapers lack hearts, it felt as though a tiny heart was racing with tension.

Weird.

All the Bad Objects had already turned to sand—what could possibly make it nervous here?

Besides, Golden Reapers rarely showed signs of tension even during battles.

Could it be…?

Tap-tap.

Every time I touched its teeth with my fingers, the Golden Reaper’s body stiffened further.

Could it really think I’m going to pull its teeth as a prank?

So much distrust from a Mini Reaper…

I almost felt like I might accidentally yank one out.

Hehe.

Suddenly, the Golden Reaper started wriggling violently in my grasp.

Looking down at it in surprise, I saw my mischievous grin reflected in its eyes.

Even though I had no intention of causing harm, its dramatic reaction was kind of amusing.

‘Would pulling one tooth really hurt?’

As I playfully conveyed my thoughts, the Golden Reaper struggled even harder.

But no matter how weak my grip might be, I was still stronger than a Mini Reaper. There was no way it could escape once caught.

Just as I leaned closer to create a terrifying atmosphere…

The Black Reaper leapt like a rocket and rammed straight into my abdomen.

The impact was so strong that my feet left the ground!

Caught off guard, I dropped the Golden Reaper, allowing the Black Reaper to rescue it before fleeing in all directions.

Everyone covered their mouths and scattered in panic.

From the shadows of the bookshelf, the Mini Reapers peeked out nervously, watching me with wary gazes.

Finding their cautious behavior amusing, I lunged forward with both hands stretched out toward them.

‘If you get caught, I’ll pull out all your teeth!’

Watching the Mini Reapers scurry away in alarm gave me a slight thrill.

***

After passing through the iron gate and waiting some time, the Tattooed Woman collapsed onto the floor, deciding it was safe.

“Looks like the gatekeepers can’t pass through the iron gate after all. What a relief.”

Pale-faced, she removed her blood-soaked coat, revealing her arm where the wound inflicted by the Butler Hungry Ghost had already healed, sprouting anew.

Becoming a Magical Book certainly had its perks.

Until decapitation, the body would continue regenerating indefinitely.

Still, the hand sacrificed as payment for summoning the green snake hadn’t returned.

Natural regeneration seemed unlikely for something offered as tribute.

Her younger sister gazed sorrowfully at the vanished hand and muttered gloomily,

“Sis, are we really going to keep encountering more dangerous objects ahead? Do we have to keep moving forward? Can’t we turn back?”

True, the injuries sustained exceeded expectations.

However, these weren’t particularly dangerous compared to what she endured regularly when she was still human.

Given her newfound ability to regenerate, such wounds barely counted as scratches anymore.

“It’s fine.”

She continued patting her younger sister until she calmed down.

“I’m an Object, remember? I won’t die so easily.”

There was something specific she wanted here.

‘The Alchemist’s Sword’

A blade imbued with reagents designed to destroy everything related to magical books.

Essential equipment for alchemists who acted as executioners of magicians obsessed with magical books.

As Objects spread across Earth, dangers would escalate, making such tools necessary sooner or later.

Had the alchemist still been alive, she would’ve sought to trade for one.

Now presumed deceased, she planned to retrieve one from his workshop.

An alchemist without a sword simply didn’t exist.

Seeing her younger sister calm down, she squeezed out the blood-soaked coat and put it back on before continuing forward.

“Well, not much farther now. Let’s go.”

Calmly speaking, she took her sister’s hand and pressed onward.

***

The white object resembling a Reaper slowly descended the stairs.

Past private chambers, into a dark workshop.

Long abandoned, the workshop lay shrouded in thick layers of dust and oppressive darkness.

The air was heavy with the metallic scent of lead.

Turning toward the smell, countless dolls identical to the Gray Reaper lined the walls.

Dolls crafted from lead.

Replicas of the long-deceased owner.

Empty vessels created solely through alchemy, devoid of soul or will.

The owner cherished these hollow dolls until his dying breath.

Even in his final moments, he clung to these useless creations.

Passing the dolls, a large mirror came into view.

The mirror seemed alive, capturing a moment frozen in time with vivid detail.

On the other side stood a Girl with Blue Hair, her face brimming with playful mischief.

The living image of the owner from days past.

[Alright, stand properly there!]

Adjusting the posture of an expressionless lead doll.

Though gray in the reflection, unlike the lifeless dolls scattered around the workshop, this one transcended its metallic origins.

Reborn through alchemy, its skin appeared almost human.

The owner seemed genuinely happy while issuing various commands to the lead doll.

[Alright, hold this for me.]

Then the owner placed a small, white Guardian in the doll’s arms, almost small enough to fit inside a hug.

Round-bodied with stubby limbs, the Guardian remained ordinary except for being unusually light to accommodate the doll’s strength.

The white Guardian, displaying slight dissatisfaction, stared into the mirror from within the doll’s embrace.

[Great, just stare straight into the mirror now.]

Giggling mischievously and muttering “Kimchi!”—a phrase devoid of meaning—the scene faded, leaving behind an ordinary mirror.

Within the mirror lay a simple Guardian representing happier times.

But now, the reflection revealed only herself, crying alone amidst the dusty workshop.

Grieving over lost time that would never return.

‘Master.’

The Guardian, whose gaze lingered on the direction where the master rested in eternal slumber, shifted focus forward.

The White Reaper-like Guardian stepped away from the mirror and moved slowly toward the exit.

Each step felt heavier than the last, as if forcibly dragging reluctant feet.

The “lead doll” had returned.

Preparations must begin.

‘Because the scenario the master crafted concludes with “my death.”’

***

As the Tattooed Woman and her younger sister walked down the dark, lengthy corridor, their surroundings began to change.

The crude cave-like passage transformed into a polished wooden hallway.

Despite being dusty, the elegant wave-pattern carvings adorned the wooden walls.

Antique lamps, their flames extinguished, added to the stately ambiance.

It resembled the corridor of a grand mansion.

The Tattooed Woman felt an uncanny familiarity, reminiscent of her hometown.

Familiar styles of corridors and decorations contributed to this nostalgia.

At the end of the path awaited a spacious room.

A reception room adorned with luxurious tables and chairs.

Yet there was no time to admire the decor due to the imposing presence emanating from an Object nearby.

Even the woman, skilled in alchemy and experienced in dealing with numerous magical books, couldn’t help but feel tense.

“White Reaper?”

Her younger sister identified the Object facing them.

Responding to her voice, the Object turned around to meet their gaze.

“Guh.”

It was an Object with a sorrowful expression.

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