Seoul Object Story

The Seongpa-gu sinkhole victim camp was in utter chaos.

It was only natural, given the grotesque and terrifying scene that had unfolded before them. Blood flowed like a river, and human skin floated in the air like falling leaves.

The Gray Reaper stood in the center of the blood pool, creating a macabre spectacle. The clothes and belongings submerged in the crimson blood only added to the eerie atmosphere.

It was a view straight out of a horror movie poster.

Reporters swarmed around, jostling and pushing their camera, each hoping to take at least one more picture.

The soldiers tried their best to push them back, but their efforts were futile.

Blocking the reporters wouldn’t prevent articles from being written, and it would only add to the numerous myths surrounding the Gray Reaper.

Come morning, headlines like ‘The Culprit behind the Disappearance of the People in Victim Camp is… The Gray Reaper?’ would likely be splashed across the newspapers and blogs.

Alongside the articles, the photos of this macabre scene, that were being taken now, would spread throughout the country.

Unfortunate as it may be, it was in our best interest to let the Gray Reaper’s get all the notoriety. After all, I was unable to prevent this from happening despite being in charge of this place.

If the soldiers had kept the front door closed and kept the reporters unaware, we might have been able to avoid this situation. However, seeing the blood oozing from under gates, the guards were startled beyond their wits. As a result, they opened the door, letting the reporters enter the camp and take pictures.

Even on the day of the operation, the soldier who caused this incident had deserted his post without leave and committed the outrageous act of opening the gate without authorization.

The stress was giving me a pounding headache.

Ideally, we should have sorted out this commotion before proceeding with the plan, but we didn’t have time.

With the butterflies spreading around Songpa-gu as well as the countdown to the missile launch, we couldn’t afford to waste any time.

There were approximately twenty-four hours remaining.

Before time ran out, we had to secure the Object and initiate the destruction process.

I left the soldiers to fend off the reporters, while only those assigned to search the area entered the now eerily quiet camp.

***

As we entered the camp, we were greeted by a huge puddle of blood.

With just one glance, it was clear that more than half of the camp’s population had died there.

The sheer amount of blood, scattered belongings, and clothes strewn about painting an even more grim picture.

Meanwhile, the one responsible for this tragedy, the Gray Reaper, was just prancing around, and jumping on the puddle of blood.

Though I could understand that the Reaper was either stepping on or chasing away butterflies, thanks to my monocle, to others, mustn’t it have appeared as a deranged Object frolicking in a pool of blood?

And, sure enough, everyone except the blind old man seemed to be on edge.

To regain their attention, I clapped my hands and gave an order.

“Listen up. Let’s spread out and look for the Objects I told you about in advance. If you find them, shoot a flare. A few of us, including me, will be preparing in the center of the camp.”

As expected, since they were professionals who I had spent a lot of money on, they dispersed efficiently, and started searching around their designated areas.

“Woah! This wall has a hole shaped like the Reaper!”

As we made our way to the center of the camp, my junior exclaimed, having found something strange.

Intrigued, I turned to check, and noticed some interesting traces among the horribly broken traces.

The wall was littered with holes in various shapes—

A hole in the shape of the Reaper, a hole in the shape of the Reaper’s hand, and even a hole in the shape of the sole of its foot.

Just what in the world did the Reaper do here?

It was an enigmatic trace.

It offered no answers; only raising questions.

***

The detective had sent a lot of people to the camp.

To eliminate all the butterflies, a difficult condition had to be met.