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In the midst of the city’s ruins, there was a dark hole, like an abyss, with no end in sight.

In my view, this was the only way to block the numerous objects that had escaped from the Central Research Institute.

Hostile objects from the creatures that had been released from the Central Research Institute scattered in all directions, indiscriminately attacking all living beings around them, and it seemed urgent to deal with the situation quickly.

So, I thought of isolation through ground collapse as a temporary measure.

There might have been better methods, but this was the best choice I could come up with in such a pressured situation.

As I focused my senses, I felt the flame in my chest had diminished quite a bit.

I had overused my regeneration ability to lure the hungry ghost to the center of the sinkhole.

If it weren’t for the overwhelming feelings of fear and despair around me, I might have given up and sought an escape route much earlier.

In fact, just before finishing the sinkhole, it was a bit precarious.

Why was it precarious, you ask?

Because at the last moment, all the humans around had died, and I had to rely solely on my reserves to hold on.

Looking down at the endless hole, I waited for the objects to crawl back up.

I intended to buy at least enough time for the soldiers to set up a barrier around the area.

One hour…

Two hours…

Three hours…

I perched on the edge of the sinkhole, tapping my feet as I waited, but nobody came up.

As I waited, it seemed that soldiers began to move around stealthily, so I left my spot.

By the way, why aren’t they coming up?

It seemed like a hungry ghost would just delay time at best…

But there were many flying objects before that…

Did they smear honey or something underground?

*

The government was in turmoil due to the gray collapse incident.

A memorial procession?

Such a thing was only mentioned 30 years ago when objects were not known to the public.

Instead, there was a procession of people escaping Seoul.

Death was too close to allow for sorrow.

And those who remained in Seoul were demanding many things from the government.

“Seal off Songpa District, punish those responsible.”

These were the main requests.

At that time, there was a timely piece of bait thrown to the public.

A report released by a detective agency.

Numerous deaths concealed by the Central Research Institute.

Kidnapping unclaimed bodies for human experiments.

Reclassifying deaths during experiments to skew workplace accident statistics within the institute.

Concealing the hungry ghost that killed tens of thousands in Seoul’s square.

Hiding the fact that the research institute in the middle of Seoul itself was an object.

Countless other corruptions unknown to the public spilled out.

The backlash and fury directed at the government and the National Object Management Association seemed endless.

Opinions ranged from conducting a full investigation of all national research facilities to stipulating that all objects must be studied in private research institutes.

No matter how much the government claimed ignorance, no one believed them.

*

A man was sitting in a chair, smoking a pipe.

He was a man who had suddenly become famous due to the accusations against the Central Research Institute, but his expression was oddly grim.

On the table where he sat, numerous bottles of alcohol were scattered, and across from him, a woman lay sprawled, intoxicated.

Not long ago, he was comforting the self-reproaching woman, but now he wore a thoughtful expression since she had passed out.

In the quiet room, only the sound of the radio played softly.

The radio spoke nothing about the dead.

Only about safety, self-preservation, and blame and criticism.

It was so absurd that the man chuckled bitterly.

“This world is truly insane.”

In the mirror, which he looked at with tired eyes, a black butterfly briefly appeared and then vanished.

As he gazed at the mirror where the butterfly had been, the man slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep.

At the moment he fell asleep, the sound of the gas lamp’s giggles echoed throughout the room.

[Did we solve this incident? Did we solve it? Did we solve it?]

[We solved it.]

[Thanks to Holmes, many people died.]

[It’s fine. A path walked by a great detective is one where red blood never ceases.]

[A detective can’t self-reproach. Can’t self-reproach. Can’t self-reproach.]

[A remorseful detective isn’t Holmes-like.]

[Then was it a failure?]

[It’s not a failure of the request, so it’s fine.]

[Then let’s fix it and use it.]

[What about the junior?]

[The junior too.]

Smoke billowed from the gas lamp, filling the entire detective agency.

And the sounds of bones grinding and blood gushing echoed throughout the night.

*

At dawn, when a soft blue light filtered in, I woke up with a strangely refreshed feeling.

As I opened my eyes, the detective agency was a complete mess.

Ignoring the scattered bottles, the blood-soaked floor and bone fragments made the office look like a murder scene.

Where on earth did all this blood come from?

“Watson, did you spill blood everywhere again? I told you not to do that.”

If I rummaged through my memories, there had been a time long ago when everything got soaked in blood like this.

However, those memories were hazy like looking through fog, so I couldn’t recall much.

“When did we drink this much? Did the junior drink it all alone?”

The detective, who could remember nothing, grumbled while cleaning up as Watson quietly watched.

Next to the detective’s temple, a new scar appeared beside an old-looking one.

The peculiar scar was identical on the sleeping junior.

*

In the deep night without a trace of moonlight, I was finally able to return to Sehee Research Institute.

The Sehee Research Institute was silent and dark, with no one around except for the duty room and security room.

While observing the institute’s surroundings that exuded a different atmosphere than usual, I stepped inside.

Finally back at Sehee Research Institute.

Finally back in my isolation room!

Indeed, there’s no place like home.

The saying “Leaving home leads to hardship” was truth even for objects.

Having probably struggled in the sinkhole, the cat was still sound asleep on my head.

Despite having moved quite vigorously, it seemed to have relaxed since meeting me, so it kept sleeping.

I did bring back the blue lizard, but I wasn’t sure if this was right.

Why was I unsure? Because I had whacked and snatched it from someone else, so it was only half of it.

I thought it would resurrect within a day, so it would come back soon regardless of whether it happened here or at the sinkhole in Songpa District.

The most surprising thing was that no objects had died during that collapse.

How many ferocious objects were there in the Central Research Institute?

As I turned on the TV quietly so as not to wake the cat, my face kept coming up in the news.

The event that recently occurred was named the “gray collapse.”

As the name suggested, it was called that because the “Gray Reaper” caused the collapse.

They also mentioned it was the strongest object that easily dealt with the hungry ghost, causing fear.

There were ideas popping up about creating a separate classification for objects capable of mass destruction, like me.

For me, this was good news.
With this level of notoriety, even a first-time viewer would consider contributing a little to my firewood.

In the end, what I gained from the Central Research Institute was a reputation for firewood and two object friends.

Thinking this was a decent harvest, I turned off the TV and lay down on the bed.

Indeed, such an arduous journey was tiring, and sleepiness soon set in.

Well then, good night everyone.

*

Life began to return to the research institute where the reaper had returned.

The research complex where Sehee Research Institute was located was on the outskirts of Songpa District.

Maybe because of that, many research institutes here began to relocate to avoid danger.

While some were leaving, Sehee Research Institute and a few others decided to remain.

Looking at the obviously desolate research complex, it felt as if Songpa District had crumbled completely.

This was the second incident of Seoul crumbling after the destruction that had occurred in Dobong-gu about ten years ago.

I remembered there had been more talk back then.

The object that appeared in Dobong-gu, the Ice Throne.

It turned about 100,000 people in Dobong-gu into ice statues overnight.

Back then, there was mourning and lamentation.

Many people were sad, and society felt stagnant.

But now, people had become too accustomed to too much sorrow.

Survival and safety now outweighed mourning.

There was also anger back then.

How many politicians had declared they would smash the Ice Throne in Dobong-gu?

Many had shared the outrage and thought of ways to reclaim Dobong-gu.

But now, people had grown too accustomed to loss.

Thoughts of revenge had given way to a prevailing mindset of simply wanting to not be in danger themselves.

As I wandered through the desolate research complex, I returned to the director’s office.