Chapter 295

Located on the outskirts of Songpa District, James Tower.

Once the front line in the war against association dolls, this place had served as a refuge for many people but was now gradually regaining peace.

The area around the tower was bustling with reconstruction work.

Employees of the James Research Institute were busily patrolling near the outer walls, cleaning up scattered doll remains.

And around the asphalt and concrete that had been shattered as if an earthquake had struck, barriers were being set up to continue restoration efforts.

‘The defector from the Association Doll incident… Was it just one person? Lucky.’

James was organizing a report regarding the Association Doll incident.

There had been quite a few dangerous moments, with indestructible dolls by Object bullets suddenly appearing, but they managed to get through without much damage.

A fleeting image of the former security team leader, Alex, crossed James’s mind.

The sole defector had returned to the U.S. not too long ago.

‘He left the country with a sorrowful face, still holding onto his doll. But strangely, there were no signs of mental pollution.’

James paused in thought.

He attached a document about Alex to the back of the report intended for the American Object Association.

James hoped Alex would return to normal and possibly resume his role as security team leader.

[Name: Alex]

[Gender: Male]

[Symptoms: Alex exhibits pathological attachment to specific dolls. Whether due to mental pollution or not, he prioritizes relationships with dolls over human ones, showing significantly impaired reality testing.]

[Response Plan: Given his vulnerability to mental pollution, intensive psychological treatment is necessary. A transfer to a position with minimal contact with mentally polluting Objects followed by long-term cognitive-behavioral therapy is recommended.]

[Notes: No signs of mental pollution detected; anti-Object treatments are likely unnecessary.]

After closing the report and looking out the window, James saw people gathered in the open lot playing with Golden Reapers.

People pressing their cheeks against the Golden Reaper’s asking for ‘cheek pokes,’ while the reapers looked somewhat perplexed.

‘Is this phenomenon due to mental pollution, or just a normal reaction to something cute?’

As James pondered this recurring thought whenever he saw the Golden Reaper, something began tugging at his earlobe.

It was the Gray Reaper, who resembled a herald of the Golden Reaper, saying, ‘I need to make mom’s present quickly!’

“Alright, I got it. Just wait a bit, we’ll start production soon.”

James gently stroked the Golden Reaper’s head and placed a purple sour candy in its mouth.

James watched the Golden Reaper happily eat the candy for a moment before opening the last remaining report.

[Secret Laboratory Escapee Object Tracking Report]

The investigation results indicated that nearly all escaped objects had been eliminated by the Golden Reaper.

[The Maker’s escape appears to have involved external assistance unlike other objects.]

Except for one—Maker—who remained missing.

***

A streak of golden light cut across the sky above the Mini Reaper Garden.

Thud-thud

As I gazed upward at the golden trajectory, I slowly walked forward.

Following the trail that dissipated like ink spreading in water, I arrived where the Golden Reapers were huddled together.

‘Mommy!’

‘Mommy!’

Noticing my arrival, the Golden Reapers popped their heads out from their cluster resembling a bunch of marbles rolling around.

What could possibly make them form such a clump?

Apparently, when they roll around and bump into each other, they end up tangled like this—but I’ve never seen them merge this big before.

Lifting the basketball-sized lump of Golden Reapers, they giggled, saying ‘heehee.’

Since they couldn’t disassemble themselves, I grabbed the protruding limbs one by one and pulled them apart.

One by one, as I extracted the Golden Reapers and placed them down, they began rolling around again on the soft marshmallow floor.

‘Degul-degul!’

Another strange trend seems to be spreading.

Is this the new thing now—just rolling around?

I grabbed the last remaining Golden Reaper and asked who started it.

Looking genuinely confused at the question, the Golden Reaper tilted its head and then cheerfully answered.

‘Mommy!’

Ah…

Now that I think about it, I do often roll around in the Marshmallow Plains. Could they have learned it from me?

Lately, I’ve been alternating between the courtyard marshmallows and garden marshmallows, rolling back and forth. It might be because of that.

It’s a subtle phenomenon whose educational value is unclear.

But rolling around probably isn’t harmful, right?

Suddenly thinking this, I laid down on the floor and started rolling around with the Golden Reapers.

Degul-degul!

Hmm…

Feels like I’m forgetting something, but it’s probably nothing.

Holding several Golden Reapers tightly in my arms, I rolled around wildly in the squishy Marshmallow Garden.

***

Mini Reaper Garden, White Hungry Ghost Habitat.

The plain once teeming with White Hungry Ghosts was now occupied by invaders—the Red Reapers, a blonde girl, and a Black Agent.

‘Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any White Hungry Ghosts around lately.’

Sipping tea with the Black Agent, the blonde girl looked down at the Red Reapers playing in the Marshmallow Plain.

The smallest Red Reaper grinned widely, raising both hands high.

A red-hot hammer and sickle.

And the spreading will.

‘Revolution!’

This prompted the other nearby Red Reapers to mimic the action.

‘Revolution!’

They looked like older sisters playing with their youngest sibling.

Watching this scene, the blonde girl pondered the one lingering question in her mind.

How does ‘Mommy’ know about hammers, sickles, and revolution?

Actually, since the Gray Reaper frequently watched TV for long periods, learning these things wasn’t that surprising.

That is, the Gray Reaper could be considered capable of understanding ‘language,’ couldn’t it?

In fact, given how often it watched TV, it seemed like there was no intention to hide it.

Rather, it was odd that within Korea, the prevailing opinion was that the Gray Reaper couldn’t understand language.

Lost in thought, the blonde girl noticed a Red Reaper poking her cheek.

Turning her head, she saw a slightly sullen-looking Red Reaper.

Could the sisters have grown tired of playing with them?

But upon turning back, everyone was awkwardly consoling the Red Reaper.

‘The ghosts aren’t here. They’ve disappeared.’

Lately, it seemed the Red Sister Reapers had only been playing with each other, but now they wanted to play with the White Ghosts. The Red Reaper was searching for them.

After hearing the Red Reaper’s will and standing up, I scanned the Marshmallow Plain, but there was no sign of White Ghosts.

Since joining the sisters, the Red Reapers had multiplied 500 times, hunting and burning the White Ghosts extensively—had they gone extinct?

But the White Ghosts are infinite objects.

They couldn’t possibly go extinct like ordinary animals.

“Alright, let’s look together.”

When the blonde girl said this, the Red Reaper giggled and sat atop her head.

‘Let’s go!’

With the Red Reaper’s energetic will, the blonde girl and the Red Sister Reapers began circling the Marshmallow Plain.

But despite searching everywhere, there was no trace of the White Ghosts in the Marshmallow Plain.

Even after checking other places like snowfields and deserts, they were nowhere to be found.

‘Where could they be?’

It didn’t seem like they’d left the garden meant to provide tranquility to affiliated objects…

The blonde girl turned to the Black Agent covered in Red Sisters and asked,

“Uncle, you don’t see any White Ghosts either, right?”

“I don’t see them either.”

While the Black Agent answered, the blonde girl vigorously shook off the Red Sisters clinging to him.

But as soon as she looked away, they quietly latched on again.

“What if we borrow a different perspective?”

“Different perspective?”

The Black Agent pointed to the sky.

There floated a gentle-looking Orange Reaper, drifting softly.

“An Orange Reaper…”

Though slightly uneasy, the blonde girl called the Orange Reaper and asked if it had seen any White Ghosts.

The kind-looking Orange Reaper chuckled mischievously and whispered an important clue.

‘Between the Candy Mountain and the Marshmallow Plain, they’re hiding.’

Following the Orange Reaper’s guidance, we approached the Marshmallow Plain, but even near the Candy Mountain, there was no sign of the White Ghosts.

Did the Orange Reaper deceive us?

Just as this thought crossed my mind, the Black Agent’s voice filled with admiration reached my ears.

“Miss, I found them. The White Ghosts used an optical illusion.”

Where the Black Agent pointed, there stood a wall made of marshmallows shaped like Candy Mountains.

It was a vast secret location using the immense size of the Mini Reaper Garden and optical illusions.

Approaching the wall, the blonde girl peered beyond it to see countless White Ghosts.

Inside the fortress, it was surprisingly spacious, filled with happy White Ghosts basking in the sunlight.

But the warm atmosphere inside the fortress was soon overshadowed by a giant shadow.

Enjoying a fleeting peace, whether long or short, the White Ghosts had no choice but to emit cries of injustice once more.

Moo-hii-ing!

***

Once upon a time, a building where the Object Association was located now housed a group under a different name.

[Object Safety Management Council.]

An organization that had removed the research and development department from the Object Association and maximized the function of regulating Objects.

Deep within this Safety Management Council, a middle-aged man was smirking wickedly.

“Good. Very good.”

His expression perfectly matched the nickname ‘Golden Bug’ given to him by employees during his tenure as director of the Object Association.

He was reviewing numerous secret funds and classified research materials hidden away by Oh Muryong.

The amount far exceeded what Golden Iron had anticipated.

He was rapidly sorting through documents.

Assets with liquid cash value to the right, everything else to the left.

Naturally, the multitude of research projects conducted by the Association were unceremoniously dumped to the left.

Watching this, his loyal secretary expressed surprise.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Chairman. Are we really scrapping this Object too?”

The document the secretary pulled out showed two lamps discovered in the ruins of Oh Muryong’s mansion.

“Hmph.”

Golden Iron sighed deeply and questioned the secretary.

“Will that make money?”

“But even so, it’s related to the ‘Evolution Liquid’ that grants eternal life or the revolutionary invention known as ‘Association Dolls’!”

Golden Iron lifted his gold-adorned cane and lightly tapped the secretary’s head.

“Didn’t Mr. Oh Muryong, who was making lots of money, end up ruined by what?”

“Lamps.”

“And Director of Research Institute No. 3, who was doing well, what destroyed him?”

“La… Lamps.”

“That’s right, lamps. More specifically, Objects.”

Golden Iron gave a disdainful look and pointed at the plaque with his cane, continuing.

“What’s the name of the organization I lead?”

“The Object Safety Management Council.”

“That’s right. If you want to make money off Objects, you can’t touch them directly. You have to take from those who profit from Objects.”

Golden Iron smiled contentedly and muttered under his breath, “If you mess with Objects directly, you’ll end up like Oh Muryong.”

“Then what should we do with these lamps?”

“Ah, yeah. That place, the only one that stores ‘Special Class’ Objects, right? Send them there. They’ll figure it out somehow.”

After saying that, Golden Iron resumed sorting through profitable documents.