Chapter 95

Suddenly, the Reaper burst out and tightly gripped a book with both hands. Golden flames erupted from their body.

The book began to burn, and soon the flames started spreading to the Reaper holding it.

What should we do?

Should we forcibly remove the book?

I had no idea what to do in this situation and was fidgeting nervously when James’s calm voice came from beside me.

“Still, the Gray Reaper is special.”

Confused, I looked over to see James pointing at the Gray Reaper while urging closer inspection.

“Rather than the Gray Reaper being consumed by fire, doesn’t it look like they’re absorbing it?”

Now that he mentioned it, the flames seemed to be getting sucked into the Gray Reaper’s body.

And for some reason, the Reaper’s face looks peaceful.

“Normally, any object touching that book burns painfully until it turns to ash. Even objects that regenerate can’t recover from these flames. But the Gray Reaper seems completely unaffected.”

James quietly added, “Though it’s still just a hypothesis, maybe the Gray Reaper isn’t an object after all.”

“I’m designing anti-object bullets in America based on this book’s flames…”

“So, what should we do about the Gray Reaper in this state?”

“I don’t know either. We’ve never seen an object react like this before. Normally, they try to rip the book apart or show fear, but the Gray Reaper seems to be neither.”

So, we can only keep observing for now, it seems.

Or am I imagining things, but the Reaper is turning slightly white within the golden flames?

***

Infinite firewood!

Whenever I feel like anything is possible as long as I have firewood, items providing it seem quite appealing.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough.

The amount flowing in at once was too little to be useful.

Compared to Yerin, this might be 1/100th her efficiency?

Even standing silently among ordinary people would probably be better than this book.

After all, people instinctively either fear or adore me when I’m around them.

It could serve as emergency rations when there’s no one around, but…

It still doesn’t seem very practical.

Physical items are cumbersome to carry around!

For someone who frequently ghosts like me, ghosting is far more valuable than this emergency food.

Besides, storing it in Sehee Research Institute’s isolation chamber for occasional snacking has a fatal flaw:

It tastes terrible.

The emotions contained in the flames lack flavor.

What kind of emotion is this anyway?

Since the book isn’t human, I can’t tell what emotion it contains.

Pure firewood imbued with a single emotion.

Compared to when I was human, eating this feels like sucking on plastic.

Rather than eat this, it’d be better to go outside the lab and scare someone.

Ultimately, Yerin is the best source of firewood.

I cut off the incoming firewood from the book, then threw this useless thing at the curious man staring at me.

Startled, the man carefully caught the book I tossed.

Monopolizing all the golden rabbit pudding is my last resort.

Thus, I need to get more pudding now.

Judging by the stench in the air, I have a rough idea where the killer rabbits might be.

I glanced toward the factory center where the foul smell originated.

The rabbits must live where the stench continuously rises.

***

Seemingly losing interest in the book, the Reaper casually tossed it into the air and turned their gaze toward the factory’s core.

Well, the pudding factory occupation isn’t over yet.

Still, this is the first time I’ve seen the Reaper so enthusiastic.

That pudding must really appeal to them.

Thinking that this stoic Reaper might actually be thinking about pudding made it amusing.

Upon receiving the book, James immediately began carefully storing it in his bag.

“Come on, we can’t stay here forever. Let’s escape quickly.”

As James suggested escaping, I pointed at the Reaper intently staring at the factory center.

“The Reaper seems interested in resolving this pudding factory crisis.”

With a grim expression, James shook his head.

“Even the Gray Reaper can’t retake the factory.”

“Is there something the Gray Reaper can’t handle?”

James doesn’t know much—there’s nothing the Gray Reaper can’t do!

Though the Reaper didn’t turn their gaze, their antenna subtly tilted toward us, showing interest.

“Still, reclaiming the factory will be tough. There’s a troublesome object stationed at the factory’s core—an Object known to Koreans as ‘Hungry Ghost.’ The current occupant of the factory is its close relative.”

“Hungry Ghost? Why is there suddenly another Hungry Ghost-related thing after the Songpa sinkhole incident?”

“Not the same one, obviously. But the object inside the factory resembles it closely enough to call it a subspecies.”

While watching the Reaper’s swaying antenna, I countered,

“Didn’t the Gray Reaper already defeat the Hungry Ghost?”

Shaking his head again, James replied,

“The Hungry Ghost subspecies occupying the factory now is far more threatening than the original. And even if it could be driven away like the Hungry Ghost, that wouldn’t solve our problem.”

“What other issues are there besides driving it away?”

“Let’s revisit our goal. Our objective isn’t to drive away the Hungry Ghost—it’s to reclaim the factory. Remember what happened to Songpa District when the Gray Reaper dealt with the Hungry Ghost?”

“A sinkhole appeared. Oh, so the factory would collapse.”

“Exactly. If that happens, even if we succeed in dealing with the object, we’d fail to reclaim the factory.”

Logically speaking, that makes sense.

But honestly, our opinions don’t matter much.

Losing interest in our conversation, the Gray Reaper’s antenna snapped straight.

Tunk-tunk.

Then, the Reaper began taking small steps forward.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

James picked up his bag and followed the Gray Reaper.

Seeing this, the timid man hesitated before tagging along.

“Boss, shouldn’t we escape on our own?”

“It’s still too dangerous to leave. There are plenty of bunny dolls left, so we have no choice. In fact, we don’t really have an option.”

Hearing James’s ominous words, the timid man looked disheartened but reluctantly trailed behind us.

***

Holding the bag containing Book Zero tightly, I followed the Gray Reaper toward the factory’s core.

As we ventured deeper, the unsettling smell of blood grew stronger.

It felt like an intentional design meant to terrify intruders.

Human intestines and flesh were hung everywhere in sight, forming grotesque tapestries.

I couldn’t help but marvel.

“Incredible.”

Despite being mere robots initially,

they demonstrated some aesthetic sense in their interior decoration, albeit twisted!

This was entirely unexpected.

Was it due to insufficient contemplation during their design?

Or perhaps the black liquid contaminating the rabbits caused this?

The interpreter looked pale and on the verge of fainting.

He’ll probably pass out soon.

If he does, I’ll have to carry him again.

Upon reaching the logistics warehouse where puddings were packaged, we were greeted by shredded pudding boxes.

The boxes lay scattered, their contents spilled across the floor, trampled into rabbit footprints.

These traces revealed the rabbits’ hatred for pudding.

The Gray Reaper stopped and stared down at the piles of discarded puddings.

Yerin Oh worriedly stroked the Gray Reaper.

Something’s off.

Although the Gray Reaper remains expressionless, they appear deeply saddened.

Is this some form of mental pollution?

Instead of pudding, the containers now held chunks of raw meat.

Raising their head, the Gray Reaper looked angry.

Looking around, we realized the bunny dolls had surrounded us.

As the dolls charged with glowing eyes, the Gray Reaper extended their arms.

Simultaneously, Golden Reapers emerged in all directions.

Small, hopping figures rushed toward the bunnies, devouring everything without leaving a trace—like ferocious golden locusts.

***

All the human-pudding-making rabbits were dead.

Victory, but strangely, the Golden Reapers looked sad.

Silence reigned, yet sorrow filled the air.

The Golden Reapers sat around the pudding containers, endlessly crying.

They couldn’t bring themselves to touch the puddings, instead sitting helplessly and shedding tears.

Their cries made me uncomfortable.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

Since petting them seemed to calm their sobs, I walked around patting the heads of the Golden Reapers.

Unlike the Golden Reapers, the Gray Reaper gazed upward at the sky.

What are they looking at?

Following the Gray Reaper’s gaze, I looked up.

There’s something.

Something floating high near the ceiling, surrounded by bubbles.

A pudding?