The Gray Reaper’s isolation room, now devoid of its usual inhabitant, was lively with the playful antics of the Golden Reapers. As they waited for the Reaper’s return from Trinity, the Golden Reapers kept themselves entertained with endless games and dancing.

Doomchit, doomchit.

A rhythmic beat echoed through the isolation room, perfectly syncing with the energetic dance of a Golden Reaper. Despite being only the size of a palm, the little Reaper's spirited energy filled the room.

One Reaper would dance until they collapsed to the floor, at which point I’d reach out with my finger and gently pat their head.

The Golden Reaper would smile broadly, beaming with happiness. It amazed me how, even after dancing so much, the Golden Reaper showed no signs of exhaustion—truly an Object’s nature.

Whenever I pointed to another Reaper, they would immediately get up and begin dancing with equal enthusiasm.

“Ha ha ha, adorable.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as the Golden Reapers danced at my command, their obedient, puppy-like cuteness on full display.

Before long, Se-hee showed up in the isolation room, playing with the Golden Reapers. She seemed to be taking breaks far too often lately—was our lab really running smoothly?

Se-hee was lying on the floor, tickling a Golden Reaper who had collapsed. Though the Reaper didn’t make a sound, it laughed silently, wriggling as it tried to push Se-hee’s fingers away.

That looked fun.

I’ll have to try tickling one of them next time.

As I turned my head to look at the Golden Reaper sitting in my palm, they seemed to tense up, worried that I might tickle them next.

How cute.

I reached out and petted the Reaper gently, watching as they relaxed under my touch.

Meanwhile, Se-hee had stopped tickling the Reaper and was looking at her phone, her expression suddenly turning serious.

“A news alert just came in—a jellyfish that had laid waste to Nanjing has disappeared.”

“You mean the one that survived a nuclear strike?”

Even though I wasn’t particularly interested in Chinese affairs, this news caught me off guard.

An Object that they had struggled to contain had suddenly vanished?

It couldn’t have died, could it? Was it on the move?

“They’re in total panic over there. That thing had eaten so many people already, and if it shows up in another city, it’ll be a disaster.”

“If it shows up somewhere else, that’ll be a huge problem.”

“They’re even speculating that it might head for Korea.”

“No way.”

Why would it bother crossing the ocean to come here?

Deep within the shadowy interior of Trinity Lab, a grotesque figure lay sprawled on a bed.

The former director of the Third Division, now almost unrecognizable, was covered in writhing tentacles. These slimy appendages, clearly originating from an Object, were spread across his entire body, fusing disturbingly with his flesh.

“Director, you’ve overexerted yourself.”

A woman in a white lab coat stood next to him, her face etched with deep concern.

Her eyes, filled with a mix of reverence and worry, quickly scanned the director’s mutilated form.

As she assessed his condition, her expression grew more severe—this was not a normal situation.

“You didn’t have to go this far.”

Her words were only natural, considering she had found the director collapsed at the entrance to the recovery room. If she hadn’t discovered him in time, the tentacles might have completely torn him apart.

Beneath the director’s pale skin, the grotesque sight of tentacle-like entities slithered, distorting his flesh in horrible ways.

Every time the tentacles twitched, the director let out a painful groan, his face contorting in agony.

But what worried the woman more than the director’s skin was the strange footprints near his bed.

They were like pulsating, living tentacle marks, as though they were imprinted with some forbidden life force.

There had been no record of such phenomena in any previous cases of "evolution" or "fusion."

In the bright fluorescent light of the room, these shadows were thrown into sharp relief, making the writhing patterns all the more menacing.

The director, his face twisted in pain, replied to the woman’s concern.

“No, this level of preparation was necessary. The evolutionary fluid is lethal to all Objects, but if I’m going to step up and fight properly, I need to be ready.”

“But to absorb the jellyfish that destroyed an entire region of China? Isn’t that Object rated as far more dangerous than the Gray Reaper?”

The woman, her emotions rising, voiced her frustration.

“Of course, the jellyfish is more dangerous. But I was planning to absorb it soon anyway—this just sped up the process.”

The director spoke with calm reassurance, even through his discomfort.

“I’ll stabilize soon enough. You don’t need to worry.”

“But…”

Before the woman could continue, the director cut her off, changing the subject with a voice filled with authority, despite the pain.

“When is the Gray Reaper arriving?”

“They should be here by this morning.”

The woman, realizing the conversation was over, shifted her tone to a more professional one.

Hearing her response, the director closed his eyes, seemingly resigned, and gave his orders.

“I won’t be able to fight right away. Stall for time until I’m finished stabilizing, or take care of it yourselves. You should be able to handle it on your own.”

“Yes, everything is prepared. We’ll report to you as soon as the mission is complete.”

The woman answered with confidence, her tone filled with conviction.

“Then go.”

With a respectful bow, the woman left the room, her expression a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, knowing she now had the opportunity to prove herself.

Looking out the window of the Trinity transport vehicle, I noticed we were getting closer to the lab.

The buildings were growing taller, and more people appeared on the streets, a clear sign of Trinity’s influence in the area.

But something felt off.

Delivery workers bustled around, transporting goods.

Shopkeepers set up their stalls, unfurling tents.

Office workers hurried along, focused on getting to their jobs.

The city was full of the typical hustle and bustle of a new day, but there was something strange about it.

To me, it felt unnervingly artificial.

They were all fake people.

Objects mimicking humans.

There had been many Objects that tried to imitate humans before, but these were different. The stench of them was overwhelming.

Inside these fake humans flowed the same black slime that had spread through Trinity.

The closer we got to the lab, the stronger the stench became. It was as if I were nearing a garbage dump filled with rotting refuse.

The oppressive presence of these slime-filled Objects heightened my senses, allowing me to extend my awareness even further.

Off in the distance, I sensed the faint presence of real humans.

It was far too distant to detect normally, but the overwhelming absence of life in this area made it possible to notice.

Fear. Despair.

These intense, negative emotions emanated from the distant humans, sharply contrasting with the hollow essence of the nearby Objects.

Sensing that the humans were in danger, I summoned the Blue Reapers from the Mini Reaper Garden.

“Go and protect them.”

The Blue Reapers, with a sense of urgency, dissolved into mist and flew off toward the humans in need.

Even though they were fragile and lacked physical immunity, I trusted that the Blue Reapers would be better suited for this task.

As they disappeared into the distance, the massive gates of the lab loomed before me.

Trinity Research Facility No. 3.

The source of the black slime was within reach.

Upon arriving at the Trinity lab, I was immediately escorted to a desolate isolation room.

Aside from the large table prominently placed in the center of the room, there was nothing else—just a barren, sterile space.

On the table, a lavish spread of food awaited: pudding, cookies, marshmallows, cakes, and more.

Normally, I would have been thrilled, but there was no way I could enjoy any of it.

The food reeked of an unbearable stench.

It wasn’t just a case of black slime being added to the food—it was as if the food had been disguised as black slime. The foul odor was overpowering.

But worse than the disguised food was the overwhelming malice directed at me.

From behind the magic mirror that lined the walls of the room, I could feel an intense, concentrated hatred.

This wasn’t just the usual black slime monsters I’d encountered before. The hatred here was far more potent, as if distilled.

Knock, knock.

I rapped my knuckles against the magic mirror.

A door beside the mirror swung open, and a woman in a lab coat stepped inside.

Her expression was smug, filled with disdain as she looked at me.

“An Object capable of recognizing that the food is wrong? You’re quite a clever one, aren’t you?”

This slime creature seemed strong.

Roughly a level 1.5 sub-species of ogre, maybe?

But even so, she wasn’t nearly strong enough to be this confident.