Nom nom nom.

As I munched on the fruit that filled my mouth, I thought to myself, "This black butterfly adventure was uneventful."

I wondered if there would be a chance to smash the Black Mirror, but Watson destroyed it instead.

I never felt that my abilities were lacking, so I wasn’t really interested in collecting more.

Even if I were to gain a new ability, it would probably just be a degraded copy, like a mini-Reaper that sends out little reapers or something.

I had also planned to secretly follow Watson and give him a little smack, but he had a difficult destruction condition.

[Destruction of the main body.]

A simple yet troublesome condition.

These kinds of Objects have been appearing more frequently lately; perhaps I should head to Seoul Forest to find an ability to locate main bodies?

Given the strange and diverse Objects found deep in Seoul Forest, it’s not unlikely that such an ability exists.

But, I’m not particularly keen on going deep into Seoul Forest.

So, I decided to just treat it as a little outing and returned to Sehee Research Institute…

When I got back, I noticed something strange about how the people at the institute were behaving.

Nom nom nom.

They were oddly kind. No, they were blatantly more kind.

Other researchers, much like Yerin, started bringing me snacks or hanging out with me.

I liked having more people to play with, but it was unsettling not knowing the reason.

Right now, a group of four female employees, who seemed to be friends, were feeding me snacks and fruit while giving me a massage.

Kneading my arms and legs.

Each one was massaging a limb, and although I don’t have a body that suffers from muscle pain, I felt my body relax as if it was loosening up, perhaps due to memories from my human days.

I started feeling drowsy.

zzz

While they were massaging my soft limbs, the Reaper, looking relaxed, fell asleep with a peaceful expression.

“The Reaper has fallen asleep.”

Without needing to coordinate, we all lowered our voices and quietly stood up from our seats.

We gently covered the Reaper with a blanket and quietly exited the containment room.

Lately, the number of people taking care of the Gray Reaper at Sehee Research Institute had significantly increased.

The Gray Reaper had always been strangely popular, but now that popularity had intensified.

It wasn’t due to any orders from the institute; rather, it was because of a report that circulated alongside the horrific accident photos that had been released recently.

The report was placed in the hallways of the institute, where anyone could read it at any time.

It was published by the Temporary Object Management Organization, and its contents were quite significant.

The report mentioned that the Reaper had the ability to repel butterflies with just a slight touch.

Researchers at Sehee Institute started thinking about a cute action the Gray Reaper had taken.

Standing in front of the main gate, tapping gently.

That action, which was thought to be just a sign of encouragement, was actually the act of repelling butterflies.

“The reason there were no infections at our institute, which is closest to the Songpa-gu sinkhole, was all thanks to the Reaper.”

It didn’t take long for this conclusion to be reached.

The Reaper, who was already popular for being cute, became even more adored.

While infection victims with horrific appearances were appearing everywhere, our institute remained unaffected.

Late at night, when the once-busy containment room finally quieted down, I turned on the TV while still cuddling the purring ghost cat.

The news was showing the grand sight of the spirit barrier that had just been completed in the U.S.

To think that a barrier made of wood could be so majestic—it’s hard to imagine how much humanity could advance if they fully harnessed Objects.

But thinking from the perspective of someone who had transformed from a human to an Object, I had a feeling that humans might never fully understand Objects with their current methods.

It wasn’t a logical judgment, just a sense that a field of study completely different from science would be needed.

Something closer to occult-like pseudo-sciences, such as alchemy or magic.

After completing that massive barrier, the U.S. lifted the embargo on a certain Object and began broadcasting its story widely.

It was a tale about a ghost that drained the skulls of people.

In Korea, an Object had appeared that fed on humans and mimicked their form, but in the U.S., a monster had emerged that approached in ghost form and sucked out people’s skulls.

Korea resolved the issue by destroying the source, while the U.S. built a massive barrier to block spirits.

Korea’s solution was certainly cleaner, but Korea didn’t have the technology to build such a barrier yet.

If the detective and I hadn’t destroyed the Black Mirror, the outcome would have been unimaginable.

From now on, we’ll need safety technologies like those barriers.

But whether such research is possible now that the Central Research Institute is gone remains to be seen.

After the segment on the grand U.S. barrier ended, the familiar face of the Daily Object’s president appeared on the news.

Startled, I immediately turned off the TV.

These days, the news is always the same story over and over.

The butterfly incident, the Daily Object, and so on.

Especially the news about the Daily Object—I wish they’d just announce that it’s shutting down.

Feeling bored, I pushed the sleeping ghost cat aside and stepped out of the containment room, noticing the significantly different atmosphere.

There were too few people around.

Come to think of it, Yerin, who used to come by every day like clockwork, has been showing up less frequently.

Other employees have been filling in for her, so it wasn’t that noticeable, but still.

It seemed like they had brought in an Object that required a lot of care from a large number of employees.

As I wandered around the unusually quiet institute, I stumbled upon a very, very, very familiar facility.

A spacious and well-maintained park had been created within the institute’s grounds.

It was a sight that could have triggered trauma, but instead, it brought a smile to my face.

So, this is why the institute has seemed so empty lately!

With a wry smile on my face, I began searching through various containment rooms.

Where are you, you little mutt?

In pursuit of the future I had dreamed of, I eagerly searched for the "cute puppy."

And then I finally found it.

A massive golden doghouse, exactly as I had seen before.

Inside the containment room I discovered, there was a huge and grand golden doghouse.

Smiling with satisfaction, I proceeded to kidnap the "cute puppy."

The containment room door? Well, I just smashed it!

I wasn’t keen on going through the trouble of hunting down the cute puppy.

But I wasn’t going to let it off after it had come all the way to my front yard.

Heh heh, I hope you're ready to pay the price for my five years of pent-up resentment at the Seoul Research Institute!

Arriving at the fake park set up in the institute's courtyard, I woke the cute puppy.

The puppy, still groggy from sleep, realized it had been kidnapped and began inflating its body in an attempt to intimidate me.

That trademark angry expression was a bonus.

In truth, I had no intention of killing the "cute puppy."

Not because of some capitalistic reason like "it’s valuable," but because the "cute puppy" was beneficial to humanity's survival.

Of course, that’s only under the condition that it doesn’t attack me.

I confirmed the destruction condition of the "cute puppy."

[Physically destroy the heart.]

Simple. Very simple.

When I checked the destruction condition, the cute puppy seemed to sense something and backed away with a whimper, like a frightened dog.

Yip!

The puppy’s pitiful whimper sounded as if it was asking why I was being so mean.

Realizing it was no match, the puppy shrank down, much smaller than usual.

At this size, it might as well be called a cute mouse instead of a puppy.

With a satisfied grin, I approached the puppy.

In a corner of the park, covered in green grass, the puppy was struggling to run on two legs.

The puppy’s feeble barks elicited laughter from people, and even passersby smiled at the sight.

It was a picturesque park scene.

Above, the warm sunlight shone just right on the leaves, and beneath the tree's shade, I lay relaxed, listening to the cool, soothing sound of cicadas.

As I watched the park, when I got thirsty, I gulped down some ice water from a glass, letting it cool my throat.

I was stretching out my limbs and resting with no worries, feeling completely at ease.

The puppy’s two legs, struggling to run around the park, were trembling so much that it looked like it could collapse at any moment.

On the surface, it appeared to be a slice of everyday happiness, but in reality, the puppy was struggling to run around the park on two legs.

In fact, this resting space was entirely fake. The park was an artificial creation within the building, and the passersby were all fake—employees acting out their roles.

Everyone was acting with a light heart, which was only natural.

After all, the one who couldn’t afford to make a mistake was the "cute puppy."

The puppy struggled to run through the field, while the institute employees watched its efforts with pleased expressions.

The seemingly happy situation didn’t come to an end quickly.

The park’s lights wouldn’t go out until I was satisfied, even if the puppy collapsed from exhaustion.