The lonely Sehee Research Institute after the departure of the Reaper.

Under an unexpected large-scale construction project, I was sweating profusely at the research institute grounds.

To be honest, I wanted to go on the journey to find the Reaper with the investigation team, but it was rejected by Senior Kim Jung-roe.

Wearing a hard hat and hammering nails, no one would ever think I was a researcher.

No matter how small the institute, treating a researcher this harshly seems excessive!

They said it was preparation for bringing in a new Object, but I’m not sure our institute has the capacity to handle an Object that requires such large-scale construction.

I thought our institute was just living off the "Gray Reaper Containment Support Fund," but it seems like Sehee is considering expanding the institute.

“Wow, Senior. Is that all gold?”

“Yeah, it’s solid gold.”

A massive chunk of gold was being brought into the institute.

With that much gold, wouldn’t its value be in the billions?

“Senior, what is that?”

“A doghouse.”

“What?”

“A huge and expensive doghouse.”

Excuse me?

The disaster at the Songpa-gu evacuee camp, which struck Seoul, was wrapped up more quickly than expected.

I was standing at a distance, watching the memorial service that was in full swing, with a pipe in my mouth.

The government commission was completed neatly.

Since I was temporarily assigned a position to complete the task, I had no further involvement now that it was over.

Retrieving the old man’s body from the scene and handing it over to his family was the last thing I had to do.

But there was something bothering me, so I was watching from afar like this.

The camp remained sealed off.

Even though the incident had long since ended.

In the evacuee camp where the gruesome murders occurred, people in white protective suits were bustling about.

They were researchers from Trinity Institute, a collaboration of three research institutes.

They meticulously collected the blood-soaked butterfly carcasses, placing them in sealed containers.

The amount of butterfly carcasses gathered was staggering.

They sorted human skin, personal belongings, and butterfly bodies from the blood, classifying the belongings as lost items and burning all the skin on the spot.

Nearby, a joint incense altar was set up to mourn the disaster.

Though only skin remained, the bodies of the victims that even their families hadn’t seen were being treated as trash here.

Burning the victims’ skin next to the incense altar seemed to symbolize the precariousness of the current times.

The investigators were relentlessly collecting data from the site, digging up soil, and demolishing the containers set up in the camp.

Then, something unusual was discovered at one site.

<This is C-2. We've found something peculiar.>

<It looks like a shard of glass without thickness. It only has physical properties in the shadows, so it appears to be an Object.>

<This is A-1. Well done, C-2. That seems to be the Object we've been looking for. Preserve the site until the management team arrives.>

They had found a shard of glass without thickness. It disappeared when exposed to light and was so thin that it could easily be overlooked.

But it had been shattered, which made it possible to find.

A group of people in dark blue protective suits, different from the white suits, headed to the location where the shard was discovered.

This happened at dawn, when public attention had shifted elsewhere.

After the disbandment of the Central Research Institute and the merger of three institutes, Trinity Institute became the largest research institute in Korea.

In a smoking room set up inside, two men were smoking cigarettes.

“What’s so funny that you’re reading it like that?”

“The discarded report on the Gray Reaper’s communication abilities. It’s a bit amusing.”

“What’s so funny about it?”

“Usually, these reports are submitted by the institute, but this one was submitted by a detective. You should take a look too.”

<Report on the Gray Reaper’s Communication Abilities.> <Discarded – Insufficient format. Insufficient evidence.> <Do not trust the contents of this report.> <This report has been discarded for the above reasons.>

<The Gray Reaper can perfectly understand and speak human language, at least Korean, 100%.>

<However, it does not wish to communicate.>

<If the Gray Reaper doesn’t want to communicate, what can we do?>

<No matter whether you pity it, get angry, or threaten it, you can’t influence the Reaper.>

<Communication with the Gray Reaper will only occur when it wishes.>

“That is pretty interesting. It seems like the detective who wrote this report didn’t know that most Objects communicate by reading thoughts. And he thinks the Object can speak Korean? Might as well say it graduated from elementary school!”

The men chuckled softly, their laughter echoing in the smoking room.

A small office located on a side road in the outskirts of Seoul.

“Senior! Why do you keep carrying that thing around? I thought you’d have thrown it away by now.”

The junior, while carefully cleaning his hammer with a handkerchief, suddenly asked a question out of nowhere.

“What?”

When I turned around to check, Watson, whom I had donated to a nearby research institute’s containment room, was greeting me.

I had a feeling this might happen, so this time I tried to stash it away in the containment room, but it’s come back again.

So, even a regular containment room can’t keep it in?

“I’ve thrown it away plenty of times. It just keeps coming back.”

“Wow, that’s troublesome. I’m still a bit scared when I think about what happened at the camp, and now we can’t even get rid of it…”

With a sigh, I laid out my plan for the future.

“If it comes back again, I’ve decided to keep Watson with me, so you’ll have to get used to it.”

“What? Why? That thing could twist your neck like a pretzel if it gets annoyed!”

“If you can’t throw it away, you’ve got to put it to use. It might help us out three times.”

“Ugh, just don’t use it when I’m around.”

The junior, with a startled expression, turned on the TV with the remote.

The news was covering the case that the junior and I had resolved.

Given how shocking the incident was, lately, no matter where you went, people were only talking about the butterfly crisis.

It was the kind of shocking incident the government would usually try to cover up, but it had become too big of a topic to keep under wraps.

Thanks to several incidents in Seoul that became even more sensational than what happened at the camp.

When the mirror shattered and the butterflies died, I was lost in the feeling that the case was solved, but in reality, if I had kept my wits about me, I could have anticipated what happened next.

While I was celebrating the resolution of the case, families, friends, and lovers in Seoul were suddenly collapsing, vomiting blood, and dying in the streets.

That’s how the butterfly-infected people in other regions were dying.

But those who saw the bodies of those who died vomiting blood witnessed something even more horrific.

The fact that these people were left with nothing but skin.

And that their insides were filled only with blood.

And that within them, dead butterflies the size of human heads were packed tightly.

Because of these horrific events, the TV was broadcasting the story 24/7.

“There’s nothing good to watch these days.”

Flipping through the channels, the junior expressed a sentiment similar to mine.

“Oh, right! Senior! What happened at the evacuee camp? Before I got there.”

The junior pointed at the TV as he spoke.

“What exactly are you asking about?”

“That. That. A rookie reporter from the Daily Object went missing. The president of the Daily Object is shouting that the Gray Reaper is behind it. Do you know anything about that, senior?”

He mimicked boxing moves, making swooshing sounds.

“Judging by the photos, that rookie reporter looks like a nasty piece of work. With your temper, senior, you wouldn’t have let him off easy. Did you beat him up, and he ran away?”

“I knew I was being tailed. But I never even saw that reporter’s face.”

With a heavy sigh, I placed a document on the joker’s head as he tried to entertain himself with pointless banter.

“If you’re bored, why not investigate this? The pay isn’t bad.”

The paper that the junior unfolded read:

<Investigation into the so-called Maker, a pseudo-creator rumored to make Objects.>

<There are rumors that they collect a lot of golden horns.> <Exercise caution as there are multiple suspicions of criminal connections.>

This was a time before the butterflies spread, just three days after Agu had disappeared beyond the sinkhole.

The ruins, still bearing the scars of the event with smoke rising from various spots, echoed with an incongruous sound.

Tap. Tap.

It was the sound of a cane striking the ground twice.

At that moment, a figure melted out of the air, appearing in the empty space.

“Finally, finally. I’ve returned. To Seoul, to Korea, and to this Earth.”

The man, holding an antique wooden cane in one hand, was the head of the Central Research Institute.

“So, Agu has indeed burrowed underground. No matter how many times I look into the future, I can’t figure out why Agu fled. Well, it just means there’s a lot we need to uncover, including that.”

As the director strode forward with a spring in his step, numerous transparent researchers followed behind him like ghosts.

“Finally! We have finally returned. Now, let’s go. To our new research institute!”

The director’s face twisted into a grotesque grin of delight, his arms stretched wide as he exaggeratedly smiled. The researchers behind him, looking like gloomy graduate students, were sucked into the shadows one by one.

The director continued his brisk walk northward, always northward.