Seoul Object Story - 63 chapter - Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp (3)

The sleepy-looking cat, sitting on a moss-covered wall, blinked its heavy eyes.

It kept yawning nonstop, perhaps because it had been wandering around all day, but even as it yawned, its eyes scanned the surroundings in search of a new adventure.

However, contrary to its notorious reputation, the temporary camp seemed peaceful on the surface.

Wildflowers sparkling with dewdrops, butterflies fluttering above them.

"Wow, a cat!"

And the fake children running through the field filled with those wildflowers.

The cat, surrounded by the children who were showing it affection, seemed to find it all very tiresome, judging by its familiar expression.

Well, since it’s a pretty white cat, it must be used to getting this kind of attention.

But I wondered if the cat realized that the children surrounding it, showing affection, were holding forks in their hands?

Even if they swung those forks down, they wouldn’t be able to harm the cat, which could become incorporeal, but I felt it was time to step in.

Standing on the wall, I let go of my ghostly form and picked up the cat.

"Meow!"

The cat, startled, scolded me as if asking why I had come.

‘I just thought it looked fun, so I came.’

"Meow."

The tired cat, not particularly interested, meowed and purred as it nestled in my arms.

A peaceful response from the cat.

On the other hand, the reaction of the fake children was much more intense.

They quickly distanced themselves, looking at me with frightened expressions.

Slowly, slowly, they began to retreat, keeping an eye on me.

Then, when they seemed to think I wasn’t paying attention to them, they scattered in all directions, disappearing into the corners of the alleys.

"Meow."

‘Right? Why did they suddenly run away like that? What could it be?’

I walked around the camp with the cat in my arms.

A merchant, stacking goods high on a stall, calling out to customers.

A butcher, sitting at the counter, watching TV.

Children playing jump rope together.

Old men advising each other as they watched a game of Go.

A peaceful moment in everyday life.

The cat didn’t notice, but the fake humans here were secretly quite afraid of me, though they pretended not to be.

Strange, why would that be?

"Meow."

Bored? It doesn’t seem as dangerous as it looks on TV?

‘It’s true, it doesn’t look like the kind of place with the rough and violent ‘people’ that TV describes.’

"Meow."

Too much exaggeration on TV?

That’s just how TV is.

"Meow..."

Perhaps tired of the calm camp, the cat said it wanted to sleep and began to purr as it closed its eyes.

A basement surrounded by blood-soaked concrete walls.

In the dimly lit basement, there was a chair stained red, standing out starkly against the darkness.

On the chair was a headless corpse, tied with rough ropes.

The body was covered in all sorts of wounds, and the places where the ropes were tied were bruised from struggling.

Beneath the chair, a pool of blood reflected a faint light, emitting an eerie glow.

In the blood pool beneath the chair, rusted saws, pliers, hammers, and other tools used for torture were scattered haphazardly.

The director looked at the shattered body on the chair and spoke.

"What a pity. 'No Name' has appeared."

The association’s man had been tortured, tortured, and tortured again until he finally called out the director’s name to die in peace.

"Come to think of it, even if I hear my name like this, I can’t verify it. 'No Name' appears no matter what name is called, so I can’t be sure it was really my name."

With a sinister laugh, the director left the basement, where the association’s man’s body lay in ruins.

"At least it’s clear that I’m not dealing with a parasitic Object."

All that remained in the containment room after the director left was the horribly mutilated body of the man.

In the deputy director’s office, a large monitor was playing CCTV footage from the break room.

Filling the screen was the Golden Reaper, slowly nibbling on a cookie it held in its arms.

"Hmm, it is quite cute."

Seoah, with a slightly flushed expression, was furiously jotting down notes.

It was a report she had always thought needed to be written.

The Golden Reaper had always appeared suddenly and disappeared just as quickly, making it difficult to analyze.

It was a report she had almost given up on due to the lack of data, but now that data had been obtained.

A video recording of the Golden Reaper, which had been maintained for over 48 hours!

The most notable feature observed from the footage was one thing:

It absolutely refused to be away from humans!

Even when eating, it stayed near a human, or clung to one.

When resting, it would roll around on a human’s palm.

When bored, it would climb up clothes and stick to a person’s face.

Although the Gray Reaper and the Golden Reaper had many similarities, there seemed to be more differences than expected.

First, the Gray Reaper liked any type of visual media.

It especially liked to have the news on while it did other things, but if something else was on while it was distracted, it would be displeased.

On the other hand, the Golden Reaper had no interest in visual media at all.

Even if people appeared on screen, it paid no attention.

It seemed as though only real humans mattered to it.

Their attitudes toward humans were also slightly different.

Both liked humans.

But while the Gray Reaper preferred to act indifferent and be alone, the Golden Reaper expressed its affection directly.

Still, the two seemed to operate on similar principles.

The Golden Reaper appeared dumber than the Gray Reaper, but this seemed to be due to a lack of experience.

Could the Gray Reaper be older than it looks?

Considering its unclear history before being contained at Sehee Institute, that seemed likely.

So the conclusion was clear:

Although the camp residents were initially suspicious of us when we suddenly appeared, they quickly warmed up after the client introduced us as friends who had come to visit.

The client’s fake younger brother bombarded us with questions, leaving the client flustered.

The client had requested help, saying something was wrong, but it was still unclear what exactly was wrong.

"Sis, why did you leave so suddenly yesterday?"

"Uh... well..."

The client seemed to be quite well-regarded, as everyone who passed by joined the group in the open space to greet her.

The crowd was gradually growing in the open space in front of the shabby building, but it was a bit odd that no one mentioned the client’s name.

Strange... Should I ask about it?

"So, you’ve known each other for a long time?"

I asked the butcher, who claimed to have known the client since childhood.

"Oh, of course. We’ve been close. I’ve seen her since she was a kid! Even though our camp is small and inconvenient, it’s a good place to live because we all support and rely on each other."

He started talking about memories with the client, going back to when she was a baby.

"Yuri! Come here. This guy doesn’t believe me when I tell him!"

Listening to the story, I naturally heard the client’s name.

But Yuri?

I’m pretty sure the client’s name was 'Sua'...

The client, still looking pale, approached the butcher when he called her over and simply smiled.

"Senior, wasn’t the client’s name Sua?"

"It was."

"Then what’s going on here?"

"What else? It’s a troublesome situation involving an Object."

It was clear that something was wrong, but I couldn’t quite figure out what the problem was.

It felt like we hadn’t been in the camp for long, but before I knew it, the sun had begun to slowly descend toward the horizon.

They said they were going to hold a small welcome ceremony for the client, but the preparations looked more like a grand festival.

In the center of the open space, a campfire was burning, built from a pile of logs.

Around the fire, charcoal grills were set up, and they were starting to grill marinated meat skewers, vegetables, sausages, and more.

People surrounded the client, and the atmosphere was joyful.

"Senior, doesn’t something seem suspicious?"

Junior Number 1 asked, with eight chicken skewers on his fingers.

"What’s suspicious?"

"The client is suspicious. No matter how I look at it, the camp seems perfectly fine, right?"

"And?"

"The camp seems fine, but the client insists something is wrong. Couldn’t it be that the client is crazy? Maybe she’s the one who’s lost it and asked us to find her perfectly fine brother?"

Junior Number 1 confidently asserted his theory while munching on his chicken skewers.

"What do you think of my deduction? Isn’t it perfect this time?"

"It’s plausible, but my gut tells me that there’s something more suspicious about the camp."

I absentmindedly fiddled with the revolver in my pocket as I pondered.