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A familiar yet unfamiliar feeling enveloped the space.

I stood at the center of a strange dream.

It felt nostalgic, as if an old memory landscape was unfolding, yet it was a bizarre dream that I had no recollection of.

Just a few steps ahead of me stood a man with a distinct back.

A man clad in the same yellow suit as mine.

His face was obscured, but I felt a peculiar familiarity, a resonance that seemed to pull at the worn-out memories beyond my grasp.

The curve of his shoulders, the rhythm of his footsteps, everything seemed to silently and insistently beckon me to recognize him.

I felt a strange longing and began to run after him.

With each step I took, a bizarre weight anchored my feet.

Fragments of unknown old memories weighed down my steps.

With every stride I took, entirely unfamiliar scenes unfolded before me.

“Junior, relying solely on your instincts will lead you to trouble.”

A voice from the unknown man reached my ears.

I have no memory of that.

As I took another step, yet another unfamiliar scene appeared.

“From now on… you.”

A bloodied man handed something to me.

This too, was not part of my memory.

No matter how much I ran, the distance to the man, who walked slowly with an effortless gait, did not close.

In the final moment, as the man subtly glanced back at me.

His head started to be covered in a crimson mist like Watson.

At that moment, without a doubt.

As he seemed ready to say something.

I woke up.

*

The night city was enveloped in a thick darkness like obsidian.

In the deep night, when the city noise had quieted, a red light seeped from the window of a shabby building.

The crimson glow of the gas lamp on the wooden desk flickered softly, dyeing the detective agency’s interior ruby-red.

On such a quiet night, a red flame suddenly flared up from the gas lamp “Watson.”

[Is Holmes asleep?]

[Yeah, he’s asleep.]

[Something seems off with Holmes.]

[It shouldn’t be anything to worry about.]

Smoke wafted from Watson, filling the agency, and shadows danced heavily above it.

[When’s the next request?]

[Right now, Holmes seems odd.]

[It’s scary!]

[Are you sure it was ‘eyes’?]

[There’s no need to run away yet, right?]

[It’s still not certain.]

[Is Holmes acting strange?]

[Is Junior No. 3 going to come out too?]

The chaotic ambiance of Watson’s collective monologue suddenly came to a halt.

All the shadows began to stare intently at one spot.

[Holmes is acting strange!]

[Holmes is acting strange!]

[Holmes is acting strange!]

The smoke billowing from the gas lamp crawled down the table, flowing out through the crack of the door.

The smoke continued climbing the stairs and walls.

As it reached its intended location, the smoke began to seep into a certain area.

A room where faint starlight shone through the half-closed blinds.

Smoke began to ooze out through the tightly shut door.

The old coat rack receiving the dim light of the blinds, along with the yellow trench coat hanging on it, became engulfed in smoke, rendering it untraceable.

Documents and case files sitting atop the old desk were swallowed by the smoke, as well as the paperweight and the half-empty whiskey bottle resting at the desk’s edge.

What stood out in the blind sea of smoke was the worn-out leather sofa, slightly sunken from use.

On that sofa lay the Yellow Detective, sound asleep in his suit.

He looked like he had fallen asleep from sheer fatigue upon returning.

As the smoke surrounded him, it seemed to glance down at the detective.

[Did Holmes remember?]

[Holmes should keep forgetting, shouldn’t he?]

[Why can he remember?]

The smoke from the gas lamp searched around the detective and discovered a sphere intermittently emitting light.

[This kind of object should be kept away!]

[It needs to be destroyed.]

[When did we get such an object?]

[When we were asleep!]

The sphere, resting on the side table, shone light toward the sleeping detective’s head, and with each beam, the detective contorted in anguish.

The mist, stained red, grasped the sphere and shattered it to pieces.

[Holmes. We’re together forever!]

*

[The Golden Reaper's Simple Experiment]

[The Golden Reaper floats over a magnet.]

[Considering it shares characteristics with the original, it’s expected that the Gray Reaper would also float over a magnet.]

I wrote “So cute.” on the last line, only to scratch it out with a pen.

No personal feelings should be written in reports, no way.

I observed the Golden Reaper, joyfully floating on a magnet in the silent Deputy Director’s Office.

Poking the Golden Reaper with my finger.

The ever-happy Golden Reaper, who just laughed no matter what I did.

Due to concerns over mental pollution, I decided to secretly move the Golden Reaper from the lounge to the Deputy Director’s Office for safekeeping.

Fortunately, I doubted anyone would suspect anything suspicious since the Golden Reaper has the characteristic of disappearing quickly.

If there had been any employees who thought it was strange, it would have been a nuisance, but thankfully, no such employees were in sight.

To protect the mental health of the researchers and to observe the Golden Reaper better, it was a necessary decision.

Looking at the clock, it had already struck twelve.

It was time to feed the Golden Reaper.

“Reaper! Let’s eat.”

As I took out pudding from the fridge, the Golden Reaper jumped up and landed on my palm.

Nom nom.

Watching the Reaper, which ate piece by piece like a little creature, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

“How cute would it be if the Reaper could make sounds?”

I wanted to hear the Reaper’s cry.

Such thoughts arose.

Clearing my throat, I opened my notebook to begin my observations again.

I had no selfish motives, so I must do my job.

*

Cuddled in Yerin’s arms, watching TV.

The table in front of the TV was filled with various kinds of pudding.

“All the kinds of pudding you can find in Seoul! Isn’t that amazing?”

With Yerin hugging me from behind, I pressed our cheeks together as she explained about the puddings.

Her explanations were primarily about where they were sold and what characteristics they had.

Nom nom.

I sampled each pudding one by one, savoring them slowly.

Still, the pudding was delicious.

However, it wasn’t the same taste as the one I’d had at camp!

I shook my head sadly.

“Ah! Is it not going to work again? Then do I have to get those only sold in the provinces?”

Yerin groaned as she hugged me tighter, saying, “You’ve become too picky these days.”

I felt sorry for Yerin, who fetched the puddings, but I really wanted to know what that pudding was that the ninja brought.

“The picky pig Reaper!”

Yerin whined, pinching my cheek.

“Oh, right! Ta-da! I got this. It wasn’t too hard to find after all.”

Yerin pulled out a photo from her arms and showed it to me.

In the photo, with a backdrop of black mud, an exotic landscape was captured.

And in the center of the photo, a pitch-black penguin was dancing joyfully.

Dum ditty dum.

The lively performance made no sound, yet it instinctively conveyed rhythm and beat.

Watching the penguin dance with its short limbs was even more amusing.

“Oh, but this was sold at ‘Daily Object.’ They seem to be struggling with business lately, selling even photos like this to make money… I wonder if it’s okay to sell objects without being a research institute?”

Yerin added, “If you mishandle such objects, it could be a big deal,” but saying that while being the one who mishandles them didn’t make her sound very convincing.

*

The morning of the detective agency.

The detective agency was bustling with the soft aroma of coffee and the noisy TV sound.

A death incident seemingly caused by unknown wildlife.

Claims have surfaced lately that a new drug circulating in Seoul is linked to objects.

This morning, Seoul was once again filled with incidents.

My senior was sipping intensely brewed coffee while listening to the TV, heaving a sigh.

His eyes looked tired. He seemed extremely fatigued.

“Why do you look so drained, senior?”

“I don’t know. For some reason, I feel oddly worn out. Maybe it’s because of this…”

He pointed with his finger at an object that had been split in two.

“When I woke up, it was in pieces. I’m guessing it was an object with a limit on usage or time. If it had healing abilities, some restrictions would make sense.”

“Well, it can’t be helped that it’s gone. So, senior! What’s the next request going to be?”

“Well, I think I’ve been working too hard lately….”

My senior leaned back in his chair, glancing up at the ceiling as he spoke.

“I think I should earn some money with simple requests, and when I feel well-rested enough, I’ll take on another object case.”

“Finding evidence of infidelity? Is it okay for detectives to engage in this?”

“That’s what detectives do. It seems Watson expects too much from me. I’m not Sherlock, you know.”

At my senior’s remark, the gas lamp flickered as if opposing him.