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It was still a bit early in the morning when sunlight crept through the cracks of the blinds, casting golden stripes across the Yellow Detective Office.

Squeak. Squeak.

The rocking chair I was sitting in emitted a pleasant noise.

That rhythmic sound I heard every time I rested somehow put my mind at ease.

The rocking chair and the golden sunlight, shining on my yellow suit—it was just another morning.

The TV placed in the corner of the room was loudly broadcasting news about the ‘Gyeonggisan Temporary Camp.’

It wasn’t common to hear that the Korean authorities had abandoned some village in Incheon, but these days, such events seemed pretty plausible.

The continuous noise from the television contrasted strangely with the calm atmosphere of the room, creating a peculiar vibe.

This tense, chaotic feeling.

It was the essence of the Yellow Detective Office.

Bang bang.

The sound of something hammering on the door.

“Senpai, we’re here!”

Just as I heard the voice, Junior No. 1 and Junior No. 2 barged in through the door.

It took some time, but Hyejin also decided to work at the office as Junior No. 2.

Originally, Junior No. 1 was already quite energetic on their own, but now that Junior No. 2 had joined, the buzz multiplied threefold.

After dropping off their bags, Junior No. 1 and Junior No. 2 spotted the documents on the wooden table.

“Senpai? Did we receive a case or something?”

Junior No. 1 began to examine the papers resting on the table beside a paperweight.

These documents were a survey on the trending golden dreams.

As soon as I heard about the golden dreams, something felt off; it was data that had been hard-won.

To be precise, I had pleaded with that black guy to hand over the data.

“A sudden survey about golden dreams? I’ve never heard of it.”

“I thought it might be related to a case, so I asked for some materials.”

The news hadn’t covered it yet.

There were reports of many people having intermittent dreams filled with gold.

It might be related to an object associated with collective hallucinations, but after looking through the materials, it seemed unlikely to be a case.

The juniors shared the papers and discussed among themselves.

“A joyful dream filled with gold. Sweet food, dancing, and singing. It looks like a delightful collective hallucination. I guess since it’s a dream, they can’t remember the details well, so there aren’t many clues.”

“The object part seems solid, but it’s funny that it doesn’t seem harmful. From the interviews, it sounds like people are actually really regretful about forgetting their dreams.”

With the juniors chatting in the background, I closed my eyes and sat in the rocking chair.

It was a peaceful morning at the detective agency with no cases in sight.

*

Thud. Thud.

The heartbeat echoed endlessly.

Thud. Thud.

In a lab deep underground, the Director closed his eyes, listening to the rhythmic beating.

The endlessly echoing sound of a heart, blood soaking the walls, the scent of blood suffusing the basement.

All of this created a magic that made it feel like being inside an animal’s stomach.

Since meeting his son in the cemetery, the Director had been suffering from intermittent headaches.

Moreover, closing his eyes revealed familiar illusions.

The sterile isolation room, the scent of disinfectant. An IV hanging on a rack.

A pristine white bed. A haggard woman lying atop it.

The whirring of a metallic ventilator.

It was a fragment of the isolation room he had seen a long time ago.

‘That woman’ spoke.

The object is hope that fulfills wishes; don’t lose hope in it.

And the Director responded.

He responded.

What did he say? He can’t remember.

“It’s probably not important.”

“It’s just something trivial, like my name.”

“Let’s research. Let’s conduct research that will save humanity.”

Like a compulsive disorder, the Director spun around in place.

The small orb he held above his hand emitted an odd glimmer intermittently.

The Director’s sporadic headaches showed no signs of stopping.

Thud.

With the sound of his cane striking down, the Director’s compulsive behavior ceased.

“Then let’s start the experiment.”

“Is it really true that objects are born from humanity’s wishes? Let’s commence the experiment to confirm the wishes of the tortured.”

Countless researchers spread out from beneath the Director’s feet, armed with torture devices, flowing into the isolation room.

In the quiet isolation room, terrible sounds and screams filled with anguish echoed.

*

The familiar isolation room.

Nom nom.

I picked up a jelly and popped it into my mouth.

The bed wrapped around me like a fluffy cloud, the cushion backed and supported me, a pleasantly soft and cozy blanket.

On the makeshift table beside the bed lay rich chocolate and rainbow-colored jellies.

The loud TV incessantly talked about a camp in Incheon.

And on my lap was a Ghost Cat.

It was a typical day at the Sehee Research Institute, peaceful and free from the spectacle of struggling with objects.

Meow.

As I stroked the cat’s back, it occasionally let out small sounds, starting a conversation with me.

Most of its chatter revolved around its adventures.

The stories of defeating strong foes or successfully escaping from powerful objects.

But it seemed the cat was running out of tales.

Well, it kept retelling the same ones over and over again…

The story about ‘fighting six Dobermans at an intersection’ was about to start for the fifth time.

“Wait, that’s the same story you’ve told five times already!”

Reading my thoughts, the cat wore a shocked expression.

Its mouth agape as it stared blankly at me.

Wow, I didn’t know cats could make that face.

Meow.

The stunned cat suddenly howled, “It’s about time!”

“What do you mean, it’s about time?”

Meow!

The cat howled loudly, “It’s time to embark on a new adventure!”

Meow!

The cat proclaimed, “I will adventure the most dangerous places!” and walked with a proud step towards the isolation room wall.

Then, it leaped over the wall of the isolation room and vanished.

On the TV, the ‘Incheon Gyeonggisan Temporary Camp,’ which the government had abandoned, was being shown.

You don’t mean you’re heading there, do you?

*

Incheon Gyeonggisan Temporary Camp.

From what I’d heard, the camp sounded like a place where demons would dwell.

A hotspot for thieves, a gathering of homeless criminals, piled high with illegal weapons and drugs; it was often described this way.

The media, like TV, had a significant influence.

They emphasized the lawless aspects, showcased dust-covered children, and portrayed weary residents to feed the narrative.

They exaggerated some cases to create a space where wrongdoing was routine.

Even if it was labeled ‘camp’ or denounced as a ‘criminal lair,’ the Gyeonggisan camp was a city with vast areas and dense populations.

Though it may have started as tents and makeshift shelters, it was no longer that.

Narrow pathways twisted through, children ran about, merchants sold their wares, and the elderly sat reminiscing about days gone by, full of vibrance.

Even now, if I closed my eyes, I could almost visualize the laundry lines extended among the tents, blocking the sky, with scraps of fabric fluttering.

But now all those tales had become distant memories.

The ‘Incheon Gyeonggisan Temporary Camp’ had changed.

Under the blazing midday sun, a chill ran down my spine.

I could still hear the laughter of children playing.

The voices of women hanging up laundry echoed around.

The loud voices of merchants peddling fruits could also be heard from afar.

Yet I couldn’t blend in with those people.

I was just hiding in the shadows between buildings, holding my breath.

The kind landlady who rented out a tiny room had changed.

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She said she’d never sell before she died!

The butcher, who always greeted me warmly, didn’t recognize me.

The children who laughed and played looked somewhat hollow.

Everyone was in their place, yet it felt like no one was really there.

It was just a month since I returned, yet everything felt off.

So strange.

It sent chills down my spine.

Even in the middle of the day, it seemed to get colder.

Were they all just playing around? Ignoring me? A hidden camera?

But my instincts screamed at me not to engage, not to show that I noticed the surreal.

I rubbed my goosebumps.

“What are you doing, sister?”

My heart nearly leaped into my throat.

I turned around, calming my racing heart, to see a kid with gaps in their teeth flashing a bright smile at me.

But something was different, strikingly so.

I hid my tension and spoke.

As naturally as I could, like a tourist.

“I was just resting a bit after getting tired from walking. This place is bigger than I thought for a camp?”

“Oh, so you came to sightsee?”

“Uh… right.”

“Ah, I see.”

The child grinned brightly and turned to leave.

Hah. Hah.

It was hard to breathe.

I felt like I was going to vomit.

I was dizzy.

Of course.

That kid was my little brother!

What in the world happened in just a month?