As I watched the mesmerizing fireworks display of missiles and bombs, I noticed the sun beginning to rise.

The acrid smell of the explosions was growing stronger, and the flashes from the bombs were becoming less noticeable in the daylight.

I was starting to get bored of the explosions.

After enjoying the spectacle, it was time to head inside the walls of Dobong-gu.

The path to Dobong-gu was a snow-covered trail that no one had walked on.

There’s something satisfying about being the first to tread on fresh snow.

Hopping along, I left footprints on the untouched snow as I made my way inside the wall.

Tiny, incongruous footprints trailed behind me in this scene of war.

Dobong-gu, untouched by human hands for ten years, had a certain fresh feeling to it.

The low-lying concrete rubble, shattered by the relentless ice soldiers, and the plants erased by the fierce cold and blizzards, created a landscape that felt like a post-apocalyptic city, ruined by a harsh winter.

I also saw quite a few strange animals, though they were likely not animals but Objects.

Given that the temperature at the center of Dobong-gu was said to be minus 100 degrees, normal living creatures probably couldn’t survive here.

You’d think that with such extreme cold, the environment and climate would be completely wrecked, but everything looked intact—perhaps another mystery of the Objects?

Even as an Object myself, I didn’t fully understand these things.

For example, doesn’t ghostification seem suspiciously odd?

Ghostification is as physically strange as a time-stopping ability.

Even if ghostification ignores physical forces, what about gravity? Inertia?

These abilities raise so many questions, even for a non-expert like me.

But scientists in research labs are probably studying these details intensively.

The interior of the transport vehicle heading toward the Dobong-gu wall was filled with a heavy silence.

Looking around at the employees in the vehicle, I could see the tension on their faces.

The more you know about Objects, the greater the fear, so it was only natural.

We were Object Response Agents, experts who knew Objects better than anyone.

I addressed the team as I looked around.

"Everyone, stay focused!"

The agents, who had been hunched over, lifted their heads at my loud command.

"The war with Dobong-gu has begun."

"This situation is much better than any of the Dobong-gu infiltration scenarios we’ve simulated."

"Since the Ice Throne initiated the attack, most of its soldiers are outside."

"Moreover, the most dangerous temperature has diffused, leaving it mostly mitigated."

"The bombardment and missile attacks are all just bait to support us."

"We are the main force."

"If we perform as we’ve trained, we can achieve our goal."

"Remember, our failure means the nation’s failure, so stand tall and be confident."

"If you feel the pressure, trust in what humanity has learned about Objects and in the training you’ve undergone."

"We will destroy the Ice Throne and return victorious!"

I closed my eyes, listening to the team’s resounding responses.

There wasn’t much time left before the operation would begin.

Using the distant Ice Throne as a landmark, I walked steadily toward it.

The Ice Throne was a massive chair, about 20 meters tall, making it easy to spot even from afar.

It wasn’t a particularly tall structure, but the ice soldiers had flattened the surrounding buildings, making it visible.

During my journey toward the throne, I discovered an intriguing area.

Walking straight toward the throne, I came across a space that felt like a baseball field.

It was a circular, flat snowfield, dotted with animals turned into ice sculptures.

Surrounding the snowfield were numerous mirrors, broken like shards of glass, reflecting the central snowfield.

The mirrors showed an ordinary snowy landscape, except for one thing: a large Jangseung (Korean totem pole) about 5 meters tall.

There was no Jangseung in the actual snowfield, only in the reflection.

The Jangseung had a creepy characteristic—it turned its head to follow anything that moved, like something out of a horror movie.

It turned its head to watch anything that moved, and if the target was a living creature, it would freeze it with a cold beam.

But while it reacted to stones or small animals, it ignored me completely.

No matter how I ran across the snowfield or walked slowly, it didn’t respond.

It seemed to avoid looking directly at me.

Even when I got close to where its face should be, it refused to acknowledge me.

It’s playing with everyone but me.

I considered smashing the Jangseung for ignoring me no matter what I did, but when I checked the destruction conditions, my enthusiasm vanished.

The conditions were tedious and time-consuming, likely taking days if I was unlucky, so I decided to ignore it and move on.

Our swift advance was suddenly halted by an unexpected obstacle.

A beam from somewhere struck one of our agents.

"!"

One of our agents was hit directly in the face, instantly freezing and dying.

A beam shot out from the snowy field in the distance, striking down the agent without warning.

I clenched my teeth.

Every life here represented Korea’s future.

These weren’t lives that could be carelessly lost in a place like this.

I threw a beacon toward the source of the attack and warned the agents.

"Everyone, attention! The enemy attacks after confirming the target. Stay behind cover! The source of the attack is about 5 meters above the beacon’s location!"

As long as they stayed out of sight, they wouldn’t be hit by the beams.

The agents moved quickly, darting from cover to cover, closing in on the enemy Object’s location.

We arrived at a circular snowfield surrounded by mirrors.

"Everyone! Look at the mirrors! The Object is the Jangseung. It appears to shoot beams using its line of sight!"

To fight an Object, you must observe it.

If you can’t observe it, you die.

The snowfield was filled with mirrors, and within them stood the mysterious Jangseung.

The speed at which it turned its head wasn’t fast, but it wasn’t slow enough for us to cross this open field without cover.

Boom.

As part of the standard Object encounter procedure, the agents threw grenades to test whether the Jangseung and mirrors could be destroyed.

The grenades had no effect on the Jangseung.

It seemed to have no physical form.

The mirrors shattered but regenerated almost instantly.

This Object couldn’t be dealt with through physical attacks—what a headache.

Should we bypass the Jangseung?

But that would waste too much time.

And there’s no guarantee the other route won’t have more Objects.

Should I have brought the Yellow Detective, even if it meant hiring him?

I thought he wasn’t suited for this mission because he relies too much on instinct, but now that I need him, he’s the first person who comes to mind.

His instincts were practically Object-level, making him top-class for uncertain choices like picking a route.

After much deliberation, I concluded that the only way forward was to deal with this Object.

If we can’t handle this Object, taking down the Ice Throne beyond will be even harder.

To deal with an Object, observation is crucial.

There must be a hint.

Objects like this, arranged in a specific pattern, often require puzzle-like solutions.

In the empty clearing stands an intangible Jangseung.

Surrounding it are numerous mirrors reflecting the snowy field.

The mirrors are shattered into fragments, preventing a full view of the Jangseung.

I moved around, using cover, to check the Jangseung’s reflection in the mirrors.

There must be a reason for the mirrors’ arrangement.

The sound of labored, pain-filled breathing reached my ears.

"Gasp… Huff… Gasp…"

Another agent was struck by the beam.

A comrade was writhing in pain, screaming—it didn’t look like he would survive.

Though he was only hit in the leg, the freezing spread through his body, and he would die within minutes.

How many times now? The number of casualties in this uncovered field was rising.

Fortunately, the sacrifices of the agents allowed us to gather valuable information.

There was only one spot where you could see the full image of the Jangseung.

It was where the shards of broken mirrors came together to form a complete reflection.

But even staring directly at the Jangseung didn’t change anything.

We had lost three more agents to this Object just to find this spot.

We had to resolve this before any more casualties occurred.

We needed at least five people to move the bomb to destroy the Ice Throne, so there wasn’t much room for error.

The mirrors and the Jangseung. And the reflection.

That’s it—the mirrors.

As I examined the mirrors, I noticed something odd.

There were a few mirrors that didn’t reflect the Jangseung at all.

How could I have overlooked these unused mirrors?

It was clear that these unused mirrors were key to solving this puzzle.

Wow! I couldn’t help but exclaim as the massive scale of the chair came into view.

The colossal Ice Throne, standing 20 meters tall, was being carried like a palanquin by four equally massive ice soldiers.

It was easy to imagine that once the path was cleared, the soldiers would rise and carry the throne down the road with unstoppable force.

However, for now, they were merely displaying their imposing presence without moving.

I had come to destroy the Ice Throne and liberate Dobong-gu, but there was a problem.

It wasn’t that the conditions for destruction were difficult.

The problem was that they were too easy.

At this moment, even a single stone could destroy it.

How could the Ice Throne not be an "Object"?

So, what Object am I supposed to deal with?

Could it be the Jangseung I saw earlier?

The conditions for destroying that Jangseung certainly seemed challenging.

Was it something like "reflect the full image of the Jangseung in a single mirror"?

Should I go back to where the Jangseung was?