Chapter 194

A researcher wearing a helmet was about to report to the Object Association, so the police officer looked somewhat relieved.

The officer seemed to think that even if the Association was slow in response, they wouldn’t drag their feet on such a high-profile case.

“Well, we’ll be here anyway, so feel free to investigate as much as you want, Mr. Association.”

With no evidence left at the scene, the cop sauntered off with a casual wave, heading toward a corner chair.

The researcher gave a polite nod of thanks and began re-examining the area.

The crime scene—apart from the corpse and bloodstains—had zero clues: not a single footprint or hint.

As the researcher moved the Mental Pollution Measurement Device around, the Mental Pollution Index went wild.

The closer the device got to where the body had lain, the higher the needle climbed, slowly creeping upward.

The murder scene was heavily tainted with Mental Pollution, distorting human perception.

It was almost certain that an Object causing this pollution existed somewhere in the Mapo District.

Still, it wasn’t strong enough to put the researcher in immediate danger according to the meter’s red “Danger” zone. The readings were skewed by some Object trailing after the researcher like a clingy shadow.

Glancing back, the researcher spotted a Golden Reaper peeking from the alley corner, its face barely visible.

Its expression was playful, as if hiding for fun.

Their eyes met, and the Golden Reaper startled, quickly retreating deeper into the alley.

It seemed too friendly to be spreading severe Mental Pollution.

Surely, it must actually be kind-hearted.

This “object” didn’t carry any malice toward humans—it was far too gentle.

One proof was the subtle distance maintained between the Golden Reaper and the researcher.

Close, but just far enough to avoid damaging the helmet.

It had always been like this since their first meeting when the researcher jumped out of a building.

Almost like the Golden Reaper was consciously avoiding doing anything the researcher disliked.

Thinking ‘they’ve probably turned away by now,’ the Golden Reaper cautiously peeked out again.

Spotting the researcher still watching, it panicked, covering its eyes with both hands before disappearing back into the shadows.

“Haha.”

Amused by the adorable behavior, the researcher chuckled softly under the helmet.

Even though the helmet functioned normally, the Golden Reaper somehow made one unconsciously wonder if it was truly harmless.

Still, the researcher wasn’t inclined to get closer.

After all, there were tragic Objects in this world that appeared friendly to humans but brought misfortune to those around them.

The researcher had never heard of an Object that was both friendly and beneficial to humanity.

If ignored long enough, the Golden Reaper would likely give up and leave.

With that thought, the researcher resumed the investigation.

***

The school gate buzzed with students passing through, creating a lively racket.

Greetings exchanged among friends, random laughter filling the air.

A peaceful, mundane school day.

Amidst this chaos, a Tired Student trudged forward.

Just as they crossed the gate, a sharp headache struck harder than ever.

“Ahhh, my head hurts.”

Lately, the student had been plagued by severe headaches ever since nightmares started.

There was one peculiar detail: the pain worsened upon crossing the school gate.

Because of this, concentrating during class had become impossible.

Though bizarre, the student dismissed it, thinking, “How desperate must I be to skip class that my head hurts?”

Pressing their temples offered little relief.

“Still doesn’t feel better?”

A Female Student approached, lightly tapping the Tired Student’s shoulder.

They shared library duty for a month and had grown slightly familiar.

Despite minimal interaction otherwise, she now suggested taking painkillers while chatting animatedly before rushing off to her classroom.

Once inside, the Tired Student collapsed onto their desk.

When headaches hit this hard, lying down without overthinking usually helped ease the pain.

“Another murder happened.”

“Yeah, I saw the barrier tape near the school entrance.”

The classroom buzzed with talk of the ongoing serial murders in Mapo District.

The Tired Student ignored the commotion, dozing off despite the noise.

***

Warm water enveloped the body, sweet and refreshing shaved ice floated atop it—a delightful bath experience!

The sound of boiling water harmonized perfectly with background noises.

“Heheheh…”

A pitiful, sorrowful voice echoed—the Voice of the White Hungry Ghost trapped as a bowl for shaved ice.

Its insides were scooped out like a sailboat, its limbs nibbled off, transforming it into a container.

The colors of the shaved ice contrasted beautifully against the ghost’s mournful face.

The Hungry Ghost Reaper followed me into the bath, clinging nearby but looking unsatisfied.

It envied the White Hungry Ghost used as a bowl.

Then, turning its hand into a sword, it carved its own stomach into a round shape, stuffing it with shaved ice.

Floating blissfully in the tub, it stared at me with glowing eyes, silently pleading, “Please eat me!”

Reluctantly, I took a bite, earning a happy grin from the Hungry Ghost Reaper.

The White Hungry Ghost watched curiously, clearly unimpressed.

Feeling insulted, I bit its tail.

“Heheheh…”

The White Hungry Ghost wailed pitifully once more.

Playing with ghosts proved endlessly entertaining.

Before long, Mini Reapers swarmed the bathhouse.

An Orange Reaper lounged leisurely in the tub.

A Sprout Reaper rested atop the Orange Reaper, giggling madly.

A Red Reaper submerged itself, turning the warm bath into a bubbling cauldron.

Many other Mini Reapers enjoyed themselves uniquely.

Though spacious compared to Sehee Research Institute, the facility felt cramped due to employees in swimsuits mingling with cheerful Mini Reapers everywhere.

Some baths resembled cereal bowls filled with milk, dotted with Mini Reaper heads.

The most popular spot? The soap area.

Golden Reapers flocked there, delighting in being scrubbed tenderly by staff using soft brushes.

While unnecessary given their immunity and ghosting ability, the Golden Reapers cherished the attention poured onto them.

Watching a Golden Reaper disappear into suds, Yerin grabbed my arm.

“Reaper! Your turn!”

She dragged me to a larger version of the Mini Reaper cleaning station.

“Lie down!”

Following orders, I lay down as Yerin enthusiastically lathered me up, massaging my limbs.

The warmth lulled me into drowsiness.

ZZZ…

***

Exiting the library cleanup, twilight painted the sky crimson.

“Oh no, I’m late!”

Checking her phone, the Female Student gasped, quickening her pace.

Did she have plans?

“Isn’t it dangerous with all these serial murders? They say they happen after 6 PM.”

“Ah, you mean that?”

Her casual reply lacked concern, prompting her to earnestly warn:

“You should be careful too. Make sure to go home before 6 PM!”

Racing ahead, she emphasized urgency.

Of course, even without the reminder, the student hurried along the familiar route, reaching the cordoned-off crime scene.

A scenic staircase overlooked the blocked-off area.

But nearing 6 PM, the streets grew eerily quiet.

The rushed student suddenly sensed something odd.

Golden eyes peered from the darkness, staring intently.

Reminiscent of the morning encounter, ignoring them triggered worse headaches.

[5:45 PM]

Plenty of time remained.

“If it cures my headache, I’ll just check out the alley quickly.”

Chasing faint delicious scents, the student wandered aimlessly but found nothing.

[5:55 PM]

Time flew; 6 PM loomed near.

Attempting to retreat, panic set in—no matter how far or fast, the alley seemed endless.

Something wasn’t right.

‘Is this an Object?’ Discarding the backpack, the student sprinted desperately, fueled by twin fears: capture by the Object and encountering the serial killer.

“Made it!”

Emerging, familiar barriers and steps greeted relief.

Turning back revealed only an ordinary alley.

‘That was close. I’ll retrieve my bag tomorrow.’

Courage failed entirely.

[6:01 PM]

Confirming the time, it was past 6 PM.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out:

“I told you to hurry home…”

Though recent, the tone sounded strangely foreign.

The voice directed the student’s gaze upward, revealing a silhouette against the radiant Yellow Full Moon.

Dressed identically to their last meeting, yet alien.

Bright moonlight cast eerie shadows stretching unnaturally down the stairs.

“You should’ve gone home earlier.”

The ominous shadow cascading down resembled streams of blood seen in nightmares.