The middle-aged man in the flashy outfit failed to live up to my expectations and ended up as a porcupine sprawled out on the floor.

It would’ve been really cool if he had blocked all 1,000 needles...

Of course, even if he had, 10,000 would’ve been next, and he would have ended up as a porcupine anyway.

The Blue Reapers were hugging each other, basking in the joy of victory.

They were smiling brightly at one another, an unusually cheerful expression on their faces.

The Blue Reaper who had lost its Attachment Human slowly approached the unconscious human, kneeling by his side and gazing down at him with a fresh, vibrant smile.

Its expression seemed to say, "It’s all over now, let’s go home together."

But the Attachment Human, having already passed out, couldn’t see that smile.

The Blue Reaper gently patted the human’s cheek with a loving expression. Then, after glancing around to make sure the other Blue Reapers weren’t watching, it pressed its hat down and leaned in to give the human a tight hug before quickly pulling back.

It stood up, smiling shyly, but as soon as it did, it realized it was surrounded by nine other Blue Reapers.

<!>

The other Blue Reapers, having witnessed the bold act, looked a little envious and kept repeating, <You’re amazing!>

The Blue Reaper, embarrassed by the praise, pulled its hat down even further, its face a mix of shyness and pride.

But amid the cheerful chatter of the Mini Reapers, a discordant voice cut through the air.

"Meaningless."

A man, identical to the middle-aged man who had just died, emerged slowly from the shadows of the tunnel, his voice and appearance exactly the same.

He was an Object, no doubt, but his presence was so faint that resurrection or regeneration seemed impossible. How had he come back to life?

Curious, I checked the destruction conditions.

<Cessation of biological activity.>

For an Object, it had surprisingly lifelike destruction conditions.

And now that I looked closely, the porcupine-like corpse of the first man was still lying on the ground.

So it wasn’t a resurrection; it was a twin.

The man seemed about to say something in his deep voice, but the Blue Reapers quickly began forming strings of characters in the air.

<A thousand Water Needles!>

This time, the man didn’t even try to block them. He simply fell, impaled by the needles.

"Meaningless."
"Meaningless."

But from the other end of the tunnel, more men, identical to the first, began appearing in droves.

The sight of all those identical men filling the passage, chanting the same words as they approached, was disturbingly eerie.

The Blue Reapers, slightly unnerved, hastily began writing more strings of characters.

<A Bed Made of Water!>
<Protect us!>

They placed the Attachment Human on the bed, and a large bubble of water formed around the Blue Reaper and the human, encasing them.

At the same time, the doppelgänger-like men began charging toward the Blue Reapers.

As the distance between the Blue Reapers and the men closed, I sensed something strange.

The men seemed to possess something very similar to the logs the Blue Reapers carried.

It was an almost identical energy, but twisted, like a distorted reflection in a mirror.

Rachel was making her way down a desolate mountain path, guided by the clue she had found.

The steep slope was sparsely traveled, with few signs of human presence. As Rachel walked, she wore a worried expression.

"The Association is still searching the village, so we’re probably going to get there first, right?"

Panting heavily, Rachel rambled to the Golden Reaper, trying to keep her anxiety about her family’s safety at bay.

The Object Association was reliable, but Rachel couldn’t shake her unease.

The Association’s top priority was always "preventing the spread of Object incidents," so there were bound to be casualties along the way.

But contrary to her expectations, a large number of Association vehicles were already parked near the cult’s hideout.

The sound of gunfire echoed continuously through the forest.

The sudden gunshots filled Rachel with overwhelming dread.

It felt as if something terrible had happened to her family.

To assess the situation, she crouched and began moving carefully toward a hill that offered a better view.

A gunfight with a cult.

The combination made Rachel think of countless terrorist organizations disguised as religious groups.

Was such a dangerous cult engaged in a firefight with the Association?

But the scene that unfolded when she reached the top of the hill was far from what she expected.

A middle-aged man in a flamboyant outfit was bursting out of the building’s entrances and windows, over and over again.

It was the same man Rachel had seen in the flyer, the one introduced as the cult leader.

"What the hell is this?"

Clones of the cult leader kept charging at the Association agents, only to be gunned down.

No matter how many of them there were, they were powerless against bullets.

After what felt like an eternity, the seemingly endless wave of cult leaders finally stopped.

As the gunfire ceased, the forest fell into a heavy silence.

There were no hostages, no injured civilians in sight.

"It’s finally over."

Rachel, holding the Golden Reaper tightly, was ready to rush toward the Association.

But the Golden Reaper stepped in front of her, blocking her path with a tense expression.

"Reaper? What’s wrong?"

Seeing the normally cheerful Golden Reaper’s face harden, Rachel felt a creeping sense of unease.

A man wearing a bulky, unmarked steel helmet gazed down at the wreckage of a concrete building that looked like it had been abandoned for years.

He was the leader of the Special Operations Squad, part of the U.S. Object Association.

Looking down at his detector, the squad leader muttered to himself, unable to hide his confusion.

[There’s no sign of any mental contamination. It’s unusual for a cult like this.]

His voice reverberated strangely from within the enclosed helmet.

Even though the Special Operations Squad had come equipped with gear designed to block mental contamination, it seemed like it wasn’t necessary.

The squad leader briefly wondered if this was just an ordinary case, unrelated to Objects, but a mission was a mission.

Any other concerns would have to wait until the job was done.

[Sir, the rescue operation is complete.]

Suddenly, a different voice came through the squad leader’s helmet.

[Good. We’ll begin the containment operation shortly. Stay prepared for combat.]

With the news of the rescue team’s success, the squad leader signaled for the suppression team to begin moving toward the concrete building.

As they emerged from the forest, the building’s doors opened, and the cult leader appeared in all his flamboyant glory.

"Suffering is..."

The cult leader waved his arms dramatically, but before he could finish his sentence, the sound of gunfire rang out, and he dropped dead.

But that was just the beginning.

From the building’s doors and windows, more and more cult leaders kept pouring out.

To anyone watching, it was an undeniably bizarre phenomenon.

What had initially seemed like an ordinary case now clearly involved Objects.

Like moths drawn to a flame, the cult leaders kept charging toward the gunfire, only to fall one after another.

But eventually, the endless march of moths came to a stop.

The gunfire ceased, and an eerie silence descended over the forest.

In that unnerving quiet, the squad leader had a gut feeling that this wasn’t over.

His instincts, honed through countless battles with Objects, told him so.

With a hand signal, he ordered his team to stay on high alert.

As the suppression team aimed their rifles at the quiet building, something unexpected happened.

The entrance to the concrete building exploded, and a massive figure emerged.

Standing over five meters tall, the giant cult leader was shrouded in white flames, staring down at the suppression team.

His eyes, filled with sorrow, were now brimming with madness.

"Ah, you poor souls, trapped in the illusions of the flesh."

The cult leader’s voice, filled with sorrow, rumbled like thunder, shaking the ground beneath him.

It was a voice that squeezed the hearts of those who heard it.

Upon hearing it, the squad leader immediately gave the order to resume firing.

The silence of the forest was shattered once again by the sound of gunfire.

But the result was unbelievable.

The Object-destroying bullets, designed to be highly effective, had no effect.

Even the most powerful ammunition failed to work.

It became clear that this newly emerged cult leader was beyond the capabilities of their current equipment.

As this reality set in, the squad leader’s urgent voice rang out across the battlefield.

[Retreat immediately, everyone!]

But as the squad leader turned to flee, his legs refused to move.

His exoskeleton, designed to enhance mobility, had completely stopped functioning.

"The flesh is nothing but a prison for the soul."

The cult leader was slowly approaching the suppression team, who were now immobilized by their malfunctioning gear.

When the squad leader looked closer, he saw that the core component of the exoskeleton, the Object battery, was engulfed in white flames.

"The exoskeleton has stopped working! Ditch the equipment and retreat immediately!"

The squad leader ripped off his helmet and shouted.

Bang. Bang.

Drawing his handgun, he fired at the cult leader.

With the exoskeleton down, the Special Operations Squad was going to take heavy losses. He needed to buy them some time.

Thud. Thud.

The giant cult leader’s footsteps echoed closer.

Just like the rifles, the handgun failed to ignite the Object-burning flames.

"Is this the end?"

The squad leader, wearing a calm expression, waited for the inevitable.

He had always expected to die fighting Objects, so this felt like an appropriate end.

The Special Operations Squad had already discarded their exoskeletons and scattered.

Of course, if a five-meter-tall monster gave chase, many would be killed or injured, but the losses had been minimized.

As the giant cult leader drew closer, the squad leader continued firing, determined to hold his ground.

The Golden Reaper began racing down the mountain path.

A giant fake human.

A harmful being wrapped in pain and despair.

The humans were in danger.

As it ran, the Golden Reaper’s ghostly form suddenly broke, causing it to tumble to the ground.

Looking down at itself in confusion, the Golden Reaper noticed white flames clinging to its body.

Feeling uneasy, it tried to brush them off with its hand, but the flames wouldn’t budge.

Giving up on trying to remove the flames, the Golden Reaper attempted to return to its ghostly form, but it couldn’t.

What should I do?

The inability to shift into its ghostly form left the Golden Reaper in a state of panic.

Thud. Thud.

But hearing the sound of heavy footsteps, the Golden Reaper stopped panicking and dashed toward the humans.

The humans were in danger.

Even if it couldn’t turn into a ghost, it had to help.

There were humans who could die at any moment.

'I’m here!'

As the Golden Reaper ran, it began burning its logs, radiating a bright, sun-like light in all directions.

'Look at me, not the humans!'

Though it couldn’t become a ghost, it could still fight.

The Golden Reaper shone so brightly that it was as if the sun had fallen into the forest.

The giant monster turned toward the Golden Reaper, seemingly considering it the bigger threat.

'Run away, quickly!'

The Golden Reaper beamed as it watched the humans flee.

At that moment, the giant monster’s fist came crashing down on the Golden Reaper.

Crack.

A sound came from the Golden Reaper’s body, something breaking that had never broken before.

Ah, it’s because of the white flames.

As the fist moved away, the Golden Reaper gritted its teeth and stood up once more.

Its body, now tattered, was cracking and splintering like a shattered porcelain doll.

One of its legs was missing, and logs were slowly leaking out like blood through the cracks.

'It hurts.'

But the Golden Reaper only shone even brighter.

Though it couldn’t turn into a ghost or use time acceleration or any of its other abilities...

It could still burn its logs and emit light.

It had to buy time until the humans escaped!

The Golden Reaper smiled brightly as it watched the next punch come hurtling toward it.