Late at night, while the surrounding buildings were all dark, there was a warehouse brightly lit and bustling with activity.

In front of the warehouse, several trucks with their doors open were lined up, waiting for their cargo. People continuously moved in and out of the warehouse, carrying cardboard boxes.

The warehouse, at a glance, seemed poorly maintained.

The walls of the warehouse were stained with neglect and decay.

The exterior paint was faded.

It appeared that cleaning was not a priority, as rusty metal and pieces of wood littered the floor.

However, in stark contrast to the shabby warehouse, the items being handled inside were neat and pristine.

Men were meticulously packing Polaroid photos into immaculate cardboard boxes, which seemed out of place in such a dilapidated setting.

"Hurry up, move faster!"

"There are still mountains of photos to pack!"

The packed boxes were swiftly loaded into the trucks, which bore the company name.

Daily Object.

This warehouse was being used by Daily Object.

The photos being packed were Polaroid shots featuring the "Dancing Penguin."

These photos had become an incredibly popular item in Seoul.

Initially, many people were hesitant to buy them because they were Objects.

However, as time passed and no significant issues arose, the photos gained widespread popularity.

The fact that Daily Object claimed to be a "specialized media outlet for Objects" also contributed to the sales.

The general public believed that since they were the ones photographing dangerous Objects on the front lines, they must know what’s safe.

To meet the high demand for these photos, Polaroid shots were taken all day, packed all day, and loaded into trucks all day.

"Hurry up, move it! This is a one-shot business! We need to sell as many as possible while they're still hot!"

The rundown warehouse, the busy workers, and the luxurious, high-quality cardboard boxes.

It was a strange space where nothing seemed to fit together, but the strangest thing was something else entirely.

The black penguin.

The black penguin, sitting quietly in front of the Polaroid camera for 24 hours, was the most out-of-place presence.

"Quack. Quack."

The black penguin, which was always silent, suddenly began to cry out.

"Can someone shut that thing up? It's making too much noise!"

"Boss, uh... how do we shut it up?"

A man with a bewildered expression stood in front of the black penguin, unsure of what to do, and yelled at the man who had been shouting earlier.

"Just smack it!"

"This feels weird. It's like the penguin is mocking us. Isn't it dangerous?"

One of the men packing the boxes approached and smacked the head of the man who was hesitating in front of the penguin.

"You idiot. Can't you see the delay in taking the photos? Just smack the penguin on the head like this!"

As he said this, the man hit the penguin's head.

Thud. Thud.

The sound of a forceful hit echoed.

The penguin, which remained still no matter what was done to it, did not react, so the man's actions were unrestrained.

But this time, something was different.

Crunch.

With the sound of bones being crushed, the man's scream echoed through the warehouse.

"Aaaargh! My hand! My hand!"

The man's hand had been cleanly severed by the penguin's beak.

The skin, muscles, and even the bones were sliced as cleanly as if by a sharp blade.

"You idiots! Why are you just standing there? Call an ambulance! Call an ambulance now!"

"Quack. Quack."

While the staff hurried to call an ambulance, the blood-soaked penguin lifted its head and began to laugh as if it was enjoying itself.

"Quack. Quack. Quack."

And the sound of the penguin's cries began to grow louder and more numerous.

Penguin heads started to pop out of the scattered photos on the floor, all crying out in unison.

"This is insane, absolutely insane. Whose idea was it to do business with Objects?"

One of the men packing the photos threw everything down and bolted out of the warehouse.

A terrifying noise soon followed from outside the warehouse.

"Aaaargh!"

The screams of the fleeing man were mixed with the sickening sound of something being torn apart.

The men who were about to follow the fleeing man stopped dead in their tracks at the sound.

A line of blood-soaked penguins was entering the warehouse.

Before they knew it, the men were surrounded by penguins, and as the penguins drew closer, fear overcame them.

Then, all at once, the penguins lunged at the men, tearing them to pieces.

Lying in the warm isolation chamber, I ate ice cream.

Hahm.

As I ate the ice cream and watched TV, the news was full of stories about the black penguins' attack.

The number of victims was staggering, thanks to the sheer volume of photos that Daily Object had sold.

It was hard to say whether this was divine punishment or just a case of no one left to take responsibility.

Every single employee of Daily Object, including the boss, was dead.

Their deaths became widely known very quickly, discovered by an ambulance crew that had been dispatched to a rundown warehouse.

Fortunately, the penguins were dealt with swiftly.

Though as tough as steel, they weren't immune to physical attacks, so a few shots with armor-piercing rounds took them down.

However, some of the penguins had fled toward the Gangseo district. I wonder if that’s going to be okay?

In the aftermath of this incident, it seemed that politicians were planning to revise the Object-related legislation.

They intended to raise the certification requirements for handling Objects...

At least high enough to prevent another "Daily Object" from coming into existence.

On second thought, if they set the bar too high, Sehee's research lab might not make the cut...

Hmm, maybe it would be best if they raised the standards just enough so that Sehee's lab barely passes.

Hehe.

I had these idle thoughts while lying in bed, eating ice cream.

The Kkachisan Conference seemed much larger than expected.

The Kkachisan Research Facility appeared small from the outside, but some sort of magic made it seem much bigger on the inside.

The high ceiling was adorned with a magnificent chandelier, and the soft white lighting bathed the entire hall in a gentle glow.

The chairs, neatly arranged in rows, stretched out so far that it was difficult to see the end, giving a sense of how many attendees this venue could accommodate.

As a small-time participant from Sehee Research Lab, I might have felt intimidated, but thanks to the Golden Reaper wriggling in my hand, that didn't happen.

Sure enough, the Golden Reaper, who was tucked away in my bag, kept trying to come out, so I had to hold it in my hand and cover it with a book as I walked around.

The Golden Reaper seemed to be enjoying the situation, wriggling and moving around in my palm with a wide smile.

Amidst the numerous research labs and government-related organizations present, one group stood out.

The researchers from the Trinity Lab.

They were from what is now unquestionably the top research lab in Korea.

Trinity Lab was created by the merger of three large research facilities and was expanding its influence in the industry with its enormous scale and financial resources.

The researchers strutted around, flaunting their lab coats with the Trinity Lab logo prominently displayed.

Given that it's a place where the nation's top talents gather, and considering their top-tier salaries, I could understand their pride, but the way they showed it off was hard to comprehend.

What was most peculiar was the Golden Reaper's reaction.

No matter what was around, the Golden Reaper, who usually played in my palm, would stop playing whenever we got near the Trinity researchers.

It would stare in the direction of the Trinity researchers, baring its teeth and even threatening them.

I guess the Golden Reaper doesn't like people who show off and act arrogant.

I better be careful if I don't want to get on the Reaper's bad side.

After clearing out the furniture in the isolation chamber, I positioned the Golden Reaper far away.

I was about to test a new ability I had acquired.

Alright, here we go!

Focusing on the Golden Reaper, I felt a connection to it.

Then, I dived toward that connection!

In the blink of an eye, I found myself standing next to the Golden Reaper.

The Golden Reaper clapped its hands in delight, marveling at my sudden appearance.

The new ability I gained from killing the harmful black penguin was the power to teleport to the vicinity of the Golden Reaper.

While it consumed quite a bit of energy, it was an excellent ability considering I got it just from killing a worthless bird.

If that bird could move through photos, I could now move through the Golden Reaper.

Does that mean I can now send the Golden Reaper to places that are too far to reach?

But considering how hard it was to keep the Golden Reaper away for the sake of testing this ability, sending it ahead of me might be difficult.

Maybe I’ll be able to do that once I gain the ability to fully control the Golden Reaper...

Late in the evening, after the conference had ended and the venue had quieted down, the Black Agent looked up at the red moon.

"So, even on the day of the conference, there was no evacuation order."

The trend of ignoring phenomena that didn't seem immediately dangerous was troubling, but it was also understandable.

There were just too many Objects appearing to be afraid of every single one.

In this era, where Objects are so common, a cloud of meat might suddenly descend on a residential area, or a lively disco ball might take over the National Assembly building.

Events that ultimately ended with no harm done.

These incidents were piling up, contributing to a growing sense of complacency.

The young girl sitting next to the Black Agent, swinging her legs and playing with a red bat, was no different.

A bat that suddenly appeared in the city, and not just any bat—a bright red one, the same color as blood.

Clearly an Object, but instead of being frightened, the girl was delighted.

"There's a bat! It's the same color as the moon up there!"

The Black Agent could only hope that, like the disco ball, this too would amount to nothing.