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The researcher in a helmet seemed lighter in spirit as he reported to the Object Association.

Despite the association’s usually slow response, it seemed he thought they wouldn’t dawdle over such a hot topic.

“Well then, we’ll be here waiting, so you do your field investigation as you like.”

Leaving behind a scene devoid of any evidence, the police waved their arms as they strolled toward a chair in the corner.

The researcher gave a polite nod, expressing gratitude, and began examining the scene again.

The area was a mess, with nothing but the corpse and bloodstains, not a single clue like footprints in sight.

As the researcher waved the Mental Pollution Measurement Device around, the readings began to wildly fluctuate.

The needle on the device slowly pointed to higher readings as he approached the direction where the body lay.

The scene of the murder was heavily tainted with traces of mental pollution that distorts human perception.

It seemed almost certain that there was an ‘Object’ causing mental pollution in Mapo District.

Of course, it was not so strong that the device indicated an outright danger.

Although the needle pointed to the red zone marked ‘danger,’ it was likely contaminated results due to an Object following closely behind the researcher.

Taking a quick glance back, he spotted a Golden Reaper poking its head out from the alley corner, showing an expression as if it was playing hide-and-seek.

When the researcher locked eyes with the Golden Reaper, it flinched in surprise and swiftly hid behind the alley wall.

It looked too kind to be an entity causing severe mental pollution.

In reality, it must be a good kid.

It was so gentle that it couldn’t even be considered an Object harboring malice towards humans.

One evidence of this was the delicate distance it maintained with the researcher.

Close enough, but keeping a safe distance that wouldn’t damage its helmet.

For every encounter since the first time jumping from the building, it had always been like this.

It seemed to express a determination that it would never do anything the researcher disliked.

The Golden Reaper peeked back out from the alley, wearing an expression as if to say, “Surely they’d look elsewhere by now?”

Then, realizing it was still being scrutinized, it gasped, covered its eyes with both hands, and hid back into the alley.

“Haha.”

Seeing such a friendly and charming sight, the researcher chuckled softly within his helmet.

Although the helmet was functioning properly, it made him inadvertently think, ‘Could the Golden Reaper be harmless?’

Still, the researcher didn’t feel inclined to get closer to the Golden Reaper.

Though not many, there were indeed tragic Objects in this world that were friendly to humans yet brought misfortune to their surroundings.

He had never heard of an Object that was both friendly to humans and beneficial.

If he continued to ignore it, maybe the Golden Reaper would give up and go back.

The researcher continued his field investigation with those thoughts in mind.

*

The school gate was bustling with students passing by, creating a noisy atmosphere.

The sounds of greetings to friends, laughter and chatter for no particular reason.

It was a peaceful and ordinary daily life in school.

A tired student began to trudge through the midst of that ordinary, noisy scene.

Upon crossing the gate, his head began to throb even more intensely.

‘Ah, my head hurts.’

The student had been suffering from severe headaches lately.

This headache, which began when he started experiencing nightmares, had one peculiar trait.

The moment he stepped over the school’s gate, it intensified.

Perhaps that’s why he couldn’t focus on his classes at all.

It was a rather strange phenomenon, but the student just thought lightly, ‘Just how much do I not want to attend classes for my head to hurt this much?’

He pressed his crown in an attempt to soothe the headache, but it didn’t help much.

“Are you still having a headache?”

A female student, lightly tapping his shoulder, spoke to him.

She was a girl from the neighboring class who had been assigned to the library duty with him for a month.

They didn’t have much interaction, but during their time together, they had gotten a bit familiar. She jabbered about taking some pain relievers if it hurt so much and dashed off to her own classroom.

The tired student flopped onto his desk as soon as he arrived in the classroom.

He figured just lying down without thinking would help a bit when the headache was this intense, so it was unavoidable.

“I heard there was another murder case.”

“Oh, that? They set up a barrier tape in front of the school.”

The classroom was engulfed in a buzz surrounding the murder case.

Given that the serial killings in Mapo District had occurred right under their noses, it was no surprise there was commotion.

The tired student ignored the noisy classroom and struggled to drift off to sleep.

*

Warm water, oh, how delightful.

Sweet and refreshing punch.

Sinking into the steaming bathtub and sipping on floating punch felt as relaxing as lying in an isolation room bed.

The background music that played was equally delightful to the ears.

“Kyuhing.”

A voice that was frustrated and pitiful.

It was the voice of the White Hungry Ghost turned into a punch bowl.

It was a bowl made from hollowing out its insides like a sailboat and chomping down its limbs.

The vibrant colors of the punch mixed with the disgruntled face of the Hungry Ghost made a charming picture.

The Hungry Ghost Reaper had followed me into the bathtub and was stuck to my side, looking somewhat dissatisfied.

It seemed envious of the White Hungry Ghost that had turned into the punch bowl.

Then, after observing the White Hungry Ghost, it transformed its hand into a sword and began to carve out a round piece from its own belly.

Then, it shoved that punch into its belly, floated up in the tub, and began to gaze at me with sparkling eyes.

It was as if it was screaming, ‘Please eat me!’ with its eyes, and reluctantly, I scooped some punch and took a bite, making the Hungry Ghost Reaper grin with happiness.

Meanwhile, the White Hungry Ghost looked at the Hungry Ghost Reaper with an expression as though seeing some strange creature.

With disdain for the kind and lovable Hungry Ghost Reaper, it gnawed at its remaining tail.

“Kyuhing.”

Once again, the White Hungry Ghost wailed with an aggrieved expression.

Indeed, the reactions of the White Hungry Ghost were the most entertaining.

Hehe.

While I played around tormenting the Hungry Ghost, Mini Reapers began to swarm the bathtub.

The Orange Reaper, eyes closed, was savoring the bath.

The Sprout Reaper lay atop the Orange Reaper, giggling merrily.

The Red Reaper dove into the tub with me, turning the bath into a boiling cauldron.

Many mini reapers, besides those who simply enjoyed being submerged in water, were having fun in their own ways in the bath.

Although it looked larger than the Sehee Research Institute, the space felt a bit cramped with numerous employees in swimsuits wandering around and the Mini Reapers gleefully moving about.

Some bathtubs featured Mini Reaper heads sprouting up like cereal with a sprinkle of milk, which was amusing.

The most popular spot was where employees were washing the Reapers with soap, where a crowd of Golden Reapers had gathered.

It was a place where the employees treated the Golden Reapers like small pets, gently soaping them with soft brushes.

In fact, Golden Reapers had physical immunity and could ghost, so they didn’t need any washing.

However, it seemed like the Golden Reapers found joy in humans focusing attentively on them and pouring their feelings into the wash.

Watching the Golden Reapers sinking into the soap bubbles, Yerin came over and pulled on my arm.

“Reaper! Let’s do it too!”

With a cheerful smile, Yerin led me to a facility that seemed specially designed for Mini Reaper washing.

“Here, lie down!”

As I lay there, Yerin began soaping me up, kneading my limbs.

The warm and pleasant sensations began to lull me to sleep.

I lay there, allowing myself to drift off, succumbing to drowsiness and Yerin’s gentle touch.

ZZZ.

*

After finishing organizing the library, when I stepped outside, the sky was painted a deep red at dusk.

“Ah, I’m late.”

A girl who had been leaving with me checked her phone and exclaimed in surprise.

“It’s already 5 o’clock.”

After a brief comment, she quickened her pace and began to walk ahead.

Did she have some sort of appointment?

“It’s dangerous these days with the serial murders. They say murders happen after 6 pm.”

“Ah, that’s what it was?”

The girl, who had been smiling slightly while speaking, took note of the indifferent reply of the student and, with a serious expression, said,

“Be careful too. It’s dangerous, so make sure to get home before 6 pm!”

Then she dashed off into the quiet streets at a fast pace.

It seemed like she was emphasizing, ‘You must get in!’

Of course, the student already intended to hurry home, so he hastened along the familiar route he had taken in the morning.

As he passed through the routine commute, he arrived at the scene of the incident, once filled with people.

There was a scenic high staircase.

And the scene roped off with barrier tape.

But as 6 pm approached, the street was strangely deserted.

The student, bustling about, felt a strange gaze upon him.

Golden eyes peeking out from the darkness, staring at him.

It was a gaze that resembled one he had seen in the morning.

Oddly enough, the more he tried to ignore it, the worse his headache became.

<5:45 pm.>

Checking the time, he found he still had a bit of leeway.

‘Maybe my headache will ease up, I’ll just take a quick look down the alley.’

Tired of the headache, the student slipped past the barrier tape and ventured into the dark depths of the alley.

Chasing after a faint but delightful scent, he wandered through the alley but wound up discovering nothing.

<5:55 pm.>

Before he knew it, the clock had inched toward 6 o’clock.

In a hurry to head back, something felt off.

No matter how he turned and walked, the end of the alley just wouldn’t appear.

It didn’t feel like an ordinary alley.

‘Could it be an Object?’ the thought raced through the student’s mind, and he cast aside his backpack and began to sprint straight forward wildly to escape.

The fear of possibly being captured by an Object.

And the fear that the serial killer was lurking nearby.

Both reasons drove the student to run so hard his breath was laboring, yet he kept running.

‘Ha, I made it.’

Emerging from the alley, he saw the familiar barrier tape and staircase.

Looking back, all that lay behind was an ordinary alley leading to the opposite street.

‘I thought I was going to die. I’ll have to come back for my bag tomorrow morning.’

There was simply no courage left to retrieve his bag again.

<6:01 pm.>

When he checked his watch, it had already passed 6 o’clock.

As he realized the time had slipped past him and tried to hurry, a familiar voice rang out.

“I told you to hurry back…”

Though it was a voice he had heard just a moment ago, somehow it felt strangely unfamiliar.

That voice drew his gaze upward, and at the top of the stairs, framed against a bright yellow full moon, stood a silhouette he recognized.

Clad in the same school uniform as when they parted, but it felt out of place.

Her figure was shrouded in darkness, as bright moonlight painted long shadows down the stairs.

“You should have turned back sooner.”

The ominous shadow flowing down the stairs looked as if it were blood spilling from a dream.