The Mini Reaper Garden, with the gingerbread house floating lazily atop the sea of hot chocolate.

Crunch, crunch.

A sound of something crumbling started coming from the gingerbread house.

<Reveal yourself!>

Startled by the noise, the Blue Reapers quickly cast search magic, but it only brought greater despair.

The "Gray Reaper Shark," with only its antennae poking out of the hot chocolate sea, was gnawing away at the gingerbread house indiscriminately.

The Gray Reaper’s eyes gleamed with the resolve of revenge, a grudge not forgotten.

Splash, splash.

Soon, a hole appeared in the bottom of the gingerbread house, and through the dark sea of hot chocolate, two yellow, burning eyes surfaced.

Those eyes were fixed on the Blue Reaper who had wielded the marshmallow hammer.

It was as if they were saying, "Found you!"

<M-Mom…>

The Blue Reaper, on the verge of tears, could only watch helplessly as a gray hand suddenly burst through the hot chocolate sea, reaching toward them.

The Blue Reapers, huddled together, trembling in fear, could do nothing but watch as the hand crept closer, seemingly savoring their terror.

The hand slowly approached its target and finally grabbed hold of the Blue Reaper.

The captured Blue Reaper, with its hat pulled down low, sank deeper into fear of the impending fate.

And then the voice of their creator echoed in their mind.

"Shall I put you in the washing machine, just like the Golden Reapers?"

At this, the Blue Reaper burst into tears.

Their arms and legs would surely break, and they’d be severely injured.

No, it wouldn’t just end with injuries—they could die.

And not just die, but slowly and painfully.

The Gray Reaper grinned as the Blue Reaper trembled even more and conveyed its will.

"Putting you in the washing machine might be too harsh and unfair."

Hearing this, the Blue Reaper breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking, "Mom is kind, after all."

"Then, I’ll confiscate your hat for one hour!"

The Gray Reaper, wearing a wicked smile, snatched the Blue Reaper’s hat and fled to America.

The Blue Reaper, left behind, touched its now bare head with trembling hands, but the comforting hat that always provided solace was nowhere to be found.

Without the beloved hat, the Blue Reaper couldn’t even walk around properly. The hour-long confiscation seemed like an eternity.

Other Blue Reapers gathered around their distraught companion, looking on with concern, but the sense of emptiness and unease didn’t leave the hatless Blue Reaper.

<M-Mom…>

The Blue Reaper could only cry and call out for their mom.

Dressed in a protective suit designed specifically for him, James was leading the investigation inside the wall.

The first task was to sort and classify the various relics scattered inside.

"There’s an enormous number of relics here. Many of them resemble the design and style of 0-Level relics."

James thought as he picked up a sharply severed, thick book.

The book closely resembled a 0-Level relic James already possessed.

Apart from the sharp cut, the newly discovered book seemed to have been less affected by time.

Unlike the one James owned, the metal decorations and intricate patterns on this book remained intact, unweathered by the years.

[James, I’m seeing the same type of pattern over here. Come take a look.]

Hearing the radio message inside his suit, James moved to the new location, where he found a massive stone slab engraved with strange markings.

The slab, as large as a person’s torso, seemed to be part of a building or monument, and it bore the same pattern as the one in the book with the blue-haired girl.

James gave orders to preserve the stone slabs and added instructions to his assistant.

[We’ll need to bring in archaeologists to handle this. Someone has to create a framework for sorting all of this. If we try to do it, it’ll just be a haphazard mess.]

[Should I post the job offer for archaeologists now, or wait until James City is rebuilt in about six months?]

[No, do it immediately. We can’t waste time like that when the end is looming. There are still usable buildings here, so it’ll be enough.]

As his assistant nodded and stepped away, someone else began approaching.

It seemed like the collapse of James City had brought a steady stream of tasks that wouldn’t let up.

James, feeling his tired eyes from being awake too long, blinked and asked,

[What now? It’s not about the budget, is it?]

[A message from the 'Mini Moon Observation Project.' They’ve observed an unexpected change.]

An unexpected change?

Was there another change beyond the appearance of the navy-blue moon?

Looking up at the sky, James saw one large, pale moon, along with the red moon, blue moon, and navy-blue moon.

Indeed, things had changed.

[Relay that I’ve noted the change. I’ll search through the 0-Level relics to see if there’s any mention of something similar.]

As the person walked away, James sighed and looked up at the sky.

There, glowing brightly but not pale at all, was a large "gray" moon.

After wrapping up the destruction report on the Glass Flamingo and paperwork related to the intake of new Objects, I stepped out of the deputy director’s office.

My destination was the isolation room of the 'Navy-Blue Sprout Reaper.'

The flowerpot containing the 'Navy-Blue Sprout Reaper,' which had been sitting in the sleeping quarters, had been moved far too late.

How could the researchers in the Object Research Institute fail to report an anomaly in an Object?

If I hadn’t checked the sleeping quarters myself when I noticed the commotion, the Sprout Reaper would have remained there.

The researchers, knowing about the Sprout Reaper, had kept quiet, saying things like, "It’s cute, so it’s fine," or "Having the sprout here helps me sleep better," spouting such nonsense.

Sure, the other derived Objects from the Gray Reaper were difficult to contain, but the Sprout Reaper seemed tame enough to be isolated properly, so it should have been contained from the start, right?

Shaking my head in frustration, I fed a star candy to the Golden Reaper perched on my shoulder.

Crunch.

The Golden Reaper happily crunched the candy, making a delightful sound.

When I arrived at the isolation room containing the Sprout Reaper, the sight that greeted me was unexpected.

The area around the flowerpot was covered in dirt, and the Sprout Reaper was sprawled out on the table, outside the pot.

The Sprout Reaper looked wilted, its head drooping, and the sprout atop its head hung lifelessly.

Startled, I quickly picked up the Sprout Reaper and placed it back into the flowerpot.

It should recover now, right?

The Golden Reaper, who had climbed down from my shoulder, curiously watched the now-buried Sprout Reaper.

Seeing the weak state of the Sprout Reaper, the Golden Reaper pushed its half-eaten star candy toward the Sprout Reaper’s mouth.

Lick, lick.

The Sprout Reaper slowly extended its tiny tongue, gently licking the star candy.

I took out my phone and captured the moment for documentation purposes.

Not out of personal interest, but for documentation.

I titled the photo The Ecology of the Sprout Reaper.

Looking at the cute image of the little tongue peeking out, I couldn’t help but smile.

<Mom, you really are kind.>

The Blue Reaper regained its vitality as soon as its hat was returned.

I had planned to leave it without the hat for a full day after saying it would be an hour, but the Blue Reaper cried so pitifully that I returned the hat before even an hour had passed.

The Blue Reaper was just too weak, making it hard to play pranks on them seriously.

Favoritism isn’t a good thing, you know.

As I looked down at the Blue Reaper, who was sitting demurely in my palm, smiling up at me, I glanced around the chaotic hotel room, which resembled my own isolation chamber.

Yerin, who had kicked off her blanket, was asleep, clutching a pile of Golden Reapers.

The Golden Reapers were strewn across the floor, fast asleep.

And sitting on the table, looking up at me, was the Mini Angler.

When I poked the Mini Angler’s belly, it let out a "kew" sound.

As I looked out the window at the brightening sky, a fun idea came to mind.

I was low on prank fuel, so I’d have to pull a new one.

Smiling down at the white Angler, I turned to the cheerful Blue Reaper and made a request.

"Make this place look like a party venue."

When I woke up, the hotel room had been completely transformed.

There were decorations made of water everywhere.

A water-made tree.

The hotel room had been turned into a party venue entirely made of water.

In this watery space, the Reaper sat at the table, holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other.

The table was set with all kinds of dishes, and in front of the Reaper’s seat, as well as what seemed to be my seat, there was a large covered dish.

The contents of the dish were hidden beneath a dome-shaped lid, but it occasionally rattled and moved.

Surely the Golden Reapers weren’t in there, right?

As I imagined the kind of prank the Reaper would pull, I sat down and opened the lid.

Inside, the Angler was staring up at me with a pitiful expression.

It seemed the Reaper often played pranks with the "White Angler" and the "Cute Puppy."

Had I done something to deserve this?

Though the Reaper’s face was expressionless, it looked incredibly amused.

"Kew."

The Angler let out a mournful sound as it was sliced with the Reaper’s fork and knife.