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A room with one side made of glass. The walls and ceiling were painted white.

I was left alone in the empty isolation room.

Contrary to the expression of the staff who shoved me into this isolation room with a look that said, “Since you’ve come this far, it’s the end for you!”, I didn’t feel anything particularly unusual in the Central Research Institute’s isolation room.

If anything was surprising, it was that the atmosphere was several times gloomier than I expected.

The expressions of the researchers wandering around in the dark and dreary atmosphere were stiffly frozen.

The expressions of the low-level staff managing the objects were even worse than those at the Seoul Research Institute.

Looking at their expressions, I almost wondered if it was the staff who were in isolation, not the objects.

Beep!

With the annoying beeping sound, high-temperature steam surged from the wall. I lightly dodged it with ghosting, not wanting to be hit on purpose.

Ever since entering this isolation room, all the experiments had been like this.

It all started with firearms.

Beeping, gun shooting. Beeping, surprise shooting, and so on.

They were just repeating things that were completely meaningless at the Central Research Institute.

Suddenly, bombs would go off inside the isolation room, and various types of poisonous gas would be released. A liquid that appeared to be highly acidic would be sprayed, and liquid nitrogen would be poured in.

When I thought about how diverse the destruction conditions of objects I had seen until now were, these various attempts were not entirely bad methods, but the focus was too narrow on destructive methods, which was a downside. Sometimes, completely unrelated methods turn out to be the answers.

Taking the Seoul Forest incident’s steel pig statue leading to destruction as a close example, it’s clear that there were destruction conditions that couldn’t be found just through these methods. Of course, they wouldn’t be conducting such experiments if they had that knowledge.

In fact, the lizard trapped in the isolation room right across was one such case.

The destruction condition for that lizard was [Receive simultaneous applause from ten thousand people.]

The front of the isolation room was entirely transparent glass, allowing passersby to see inside the opposite isolation room, where a lizard was periodically being killed.

It didn’t look particularly physically sturdy, and it was just a small lizard the size of a person’s palm. Aside from its entire body being blue, it looked nothing like an object.

The true worth of that lizard showed during the experiments. It was turned to ash by a flamethrower, leaving not a single bone fragment, only for a blue flame to flicker in the air an hour later, and poof, the lizard was resurrected.

After that, relentless experiments continued. They melted it down, burned it, and used various methods to prevent its resurrection, yet the lizard kept coming back.

Then, perhaps giving up on killing the lizard, it was transferred to another isolation room.

I was also hoping to be moved to a different isolation room like that lizard, but it seemed they had no intention of sending me elsewhere, unlike that blue lizard. What was the difference between me and that lizard?

*

A cat had taken the place of the lizard. A person who seemed to be the cat’s owner lured it into the isolation room with treats or toys.

I thought the cat could also be experimented on like the lizard, but surprisingly, it didn’t happen. The cat was completely a ghost, so it seemed they decided not to even attempt it and just keep it contained.

Perhaps because it was a ghost cat that could be seen but not interacted with, it looked quite relaxed even though it was trapped.

However, that relaxation was short-lived.

Feeling bored, the cat suddenly poked its head against the glass wall to try to get out, causing its calm demeanor to vanish.

It couldn’t pass through the wall and bumped its head against the isolation room’s glass.

Blocked by the isolation room wall, the ghost cat couldn’t escape and only scratched at the wall with its claws, meowing mournfully. Being a ghost cat, perhaps this situation was perplexing, and its cries became even more pitiful.

Surely not? Is this isolation room effective at trapping ghosts?

As I examined the walls of the isolation room carefully, one ambiguous hint popped up.

[Grants the wish of the research director.]

The walls and windows of the isolation room were all categorized as objects. They all appeared to be the same object or derived objects from the same source.

The destruction hint was [Grants the wish of the research director.]

Once again, it was an absurd hint.

I didn’t even know who the director was, nor what the wish was.

Using objects to trap objects. This is why the staff looked so confident.

The reason they were clearly unwilling to let me out was evident. There was no reason to remove an entity from a prison designed to contain ghosts. After all, it would be troublesome if I escaped during transport.

Is it really impossible to pass through? I wondered, reaching out to the wall, only to feel a slight resistance before slipping right through.

Huh? It’s possible to pass through so easily?

However, from the hand that went into the wall, an incredibly loud noise erupted. It sounded like a gym full of people talking—murmurs mixed with incomprehensible voices.

It was an odd phenomenon, but I decided to just go ahead and pass through.

What could possibly happen?

*

Alarms blared throughout the institute.

There were indications that the high-risk experimental subject, the Gray Reaper, had escaped from its isolation room.

The CCTV recording that was presented as evidence captured the moment the Gray Reaper passed through the wall. In the video, the Gray Reaper put its arm in, pondered something deeply, and then inserted its entire body through the wall.

Of course, just because such footage was captured, nobody was foolish enough to open the door to the isolation room.

It had already been reported that the Gray Reaper was highly intelligent, so there were opinions that it was a deceptive tactic to make them open the door.

Moreover, the fact that the Gray Reaper was not visible on the opposite wall further reinforced that opinion.

Though it was also considered that there might indeed be a possibility of escape, all entrances and windows leading outside were sealed. Everyone inside the institute was prohibited from coming and going.

All personnel, both field and administrative, were assigned the mission to find the Gray Reaper.

Ground staff scoured every nook and cranny to track the Gray Reaper’s traces, while administrative staff began meticulously analyzing all CCTV footage for images of the Gray Reaper.

I was assigned to patrol the institute with a large shield in my right hand and a truncheon in my left.

To chase a high-risk, elite object that could even turn into a ghost with such meager equipment was utterly absurd. Moreover, the target was the notorious Gray Reaper, wasn’t it?

One silver lining was that there was no chance the Gray Reaper would be out in the open.

Honestly, do you really think it would make sense for the Gray Reaper, who hadn’t escaped until now, to suddenly attempt to escape?

The researchers had all hidden in the internal bunker, leaving only ordinary staff wandering about. With everyone carrying large shields, even the once-spacious hallways of the institute seemed incredibly cramped.

Thus, the hallways of the institute appeared uniquely dark.

Black butterflies were densely stuck to the ceiling, enhancing that effect.

The black butterflies fluttered about from time to time.

Now that I think about it, when did the black butterflies first appear? About a week ago, maybe?

It wasn’t anything special.

Not a big deal.

Thinking back, there were also a lot of butterflies reflected in the mirror of my accommodations. Was that strange?

Not particularly strange.

Ouch, that hurts.

A black butterfly bit me with its sharp teeth.

Wait? Do butterflies even have teeth?

Maybe they could.

The butterflies began to cling to me.

When did this start? I think it started yesterday.

It’s not a big deal.

“Hey, why do you have so many bug bite marks on your forearm? It’s still early summer, so were there that many mosquitoes?”

The voice of my colleague who was patrolling alongside me felt somewhat distant. The butterflies were flying down from the ceiling, thick enough to obstruct my vision. Was there a butterfly sitting in my ear, blocking the sound?

I couldn’t see my colleague’s face because of the butterflies.

“Hey, where are you looking? No matter how difficult it gets, keep your mind clear.”

The butterflies were hampering me. I couldn’t walk.

When exactly are these butterflies going to be cleared away?

Every time this happens, it’s just the field staff suffering while the research institute gets off easy.

In the midst of my view filled with butterflies, a brilliant yellow pierced my eyes.

It was the intense yellow emanating from the Gray Reaper’s eyes.

The Gray Reaper was gesturing. It beckoned me to come over quickly.

Ah, I need to quickly signal that I found the Reaper…

But my body wouldn’t move.

The butterflies were clinging all over me, preventing my movement.

And I was too sleepy to stand.

I lost consciousness right in front of the Gray Reaper.