Seoul Object Story

Researchers from the Sehee Research Institute showed up at the underground clearing, looking all official. The team consisted of a burly guy and a woman with a ponytail.

The female researcher quickly made a beeline for the Gray Reaper, who was currently being hugged by Junior No. 1 like a kid to a teddy bear. Junior No. 1 wasn’t letting go without a fight though, which resulted in the Gray Reaper, looking drowsy as ever, hanging in the air with its arms held by two different people. It was quite funny seeing two grown adults engage in a childish tug-o-war.

When I shot Junior No. 1 a look, she finally let go, her face a picture of disappointment.

She watched, crestfallen, as the researcher marched off with the Gray Reaper, acting all smug at her “victory”.

“Sniff! Sunbae! Why didn’t I choose to become a researcher at the Sehee Research Institute…?” she muttered, her voice dripping with sorrow.

With the Gray Reaper gone, the Golden Reaper started to disappear as well. It seemed to be only a matter of time before they would be completely gone.

Junior No. 1, desperate to cling to something, hugged the few remaining Golden Reapers like they were the last puppies on Earth.

The guy from the Sehee Research Institute tried to gather up the Golden Reapers too, but some of the mini-reapers weren’t budging as well. They clung to my juniors as if their lives depended on it, and seeing this, the guy gave up. As a result, all of the Golden Reapers left in the clearing were now in my junior’s hands.

In return for not taking the few Golden Reapers, the man gave me a few stern warnings. Nothing too out of the ordinary, probably because it was an Object that had never been found as harmful before.

Rather, the real headache was the association’s staff. They strongly advised us not to leave the camp with the Golden Reapers.

“As expected, the only ones I can trust are you guys,” Junior No. 1 said, talking to the Golden Reapers like they were old friends. “You guys won’t disappear, right?”

Junior No. 1 kept talking to the Golden Reapers, even though they seemed to not understand a single one of her words. If she kept that up, I’d have to have her undergo a mind corruption test.

What was surprising was that Junior No. 2, usually the one with the strongest attachment to the Golden Reapers, was oddly calm.

Wasn’t she far more attached than junior No. 1? Am I just remembering it wrong…?

Wait now that I look at her, Junior No. 2 is…

Why is she standing all stiff and fidgeting continuously? Hmm? Did she feel uncomfortable about something?

***

In a secret research facility affiliated with the Association, hidden away from prying eyes, a unique containment room was set up in its deepest part.

It was not a strict containment room made of steel-like metal, nor was it an ordinary brick-and-mortar containment room.

The room was instead crafted from a transparent, almost non-reflective material that made it seem as though the Object inside floated in the air.

Imprisoned within this special cell, which dissolved into its surroundings, was a man who had once great respect and fear as the Director of the Central Research Institute.

Now, he was known as “The Maker,” a name whispered in fear and awe. His body lay in a grotesque state of ragged corpse, yet his eyes glimmered with a malevolent light….

The area surrounding him bristled with sophisticated surveillance equipment. Every possible angle was covered: CCTV cameras, infrared sensors, vibration detectors, and temperature gauges. The room was a web of observational prowess, designed to capture his every move, every breath.

In addition to the staff who were conducting visual surveillance and operating the monitoring devices, armed soldiers were also on standby, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.

Inside the translucent containment room, the Maker opened his eyes.

A chilling awareness spread across his face as he took in his surroundings. He knew instantly where he was and what had been done to him. His once formidable countenance twisted in rage and frustration.

Gone were the Objects he had wielded with such brutal efficiency, reduced now to nothing but his horrific ability to regenerate indefinitely.

Thump-!

With a resounding thump, he stood up and hammered his fist against the transparent wall.

“Aaaggghhh!!!”

Thump-! Thump-! Thump-!

There was no place for him to hide, not even a shadow to conceal him.

The unblinking eye of surveillance bore down relentlessly, recording his every twitch and breath in excruciating detail.

The lens zoomed in, capturing his distorted appearance in extreme detail. It was a sophisticated spectacle for the silent, faceless observers who watched with fanatic intensity from behind dim screens.

“I… I still have some work left to do! You hear me?! I-I still have work left for humanity!!”

The director shouted, pounding against the transparent wall, his fingerprints smudging the surface in futile rebellion.

However, the onlookers watched on unflinchingly, their impassive faces shrouded in darkness. They just remained stoic, blankly staring at the mad director on the other side of the screen.

“I have succeeded in manifesting an Object! Just a little more and Objects would fall into the hands of humanity!”

“I will eradicate “The Nameless” and destroy the “Steel Tower”! And… and, yes that! The “Gray Reaper”! I must annihilate the Gray Reaper! That wretched enemy of humanity who dared to impede my noble work for the betterment of mankind!!”

In his frenzy, The Maker tried to covertly summon his researchers from within his shadow, but before his twisted vision could take shape—

Bang!

A shot rang out, precise and unyielding, fired from the ceiling and struck him squarely between the eyes. The Maker crumpled to the floor, his grandiose declarations silenced in an instant.

And so ended the first day of The Maker’s imprisonment. And it would continue in that fashion in the future too without any special ‘accident’.

***

In the middle of my cozy containment room at the Sehee Research Institute, I was sprawled out on my soft bed, soaking up all the comfort I could.

The blue sheets, always perfectly maintained, felt as soft as the gentle waves of the sea, with their soft wrinkles acting as adorable little ripples.

Beside me, the Ghost Kitty lay, yawning lazily. Perhaps because it had just come back after a grand, fulfilling adventure, it looked extremely drowsy and content. Plus, the room was filled with soft cushions and fluffy rugs, making everything feel extra snuggly.

I really liked the flower pot with lush green leaves that Yerin had placed in the room. And the newly placed air freshener? It filled the room with a sweet vanilla scent that was just perfect.

While I was basking in all this coziness, the TV next to my bed was blaring about some recent incident.