The battle between the Crimson Reaper and the Angler Reaper—or rather, the fight between the Gray Reaper and the Angler Reaper—had come to an end.

From the younger sister’s perspective, the result was quite unexpected.

The Angler Reaper, with its graceful yet deadly movements, its blade that could cut through anything, and its flames that burned everything in its path, had lost!

As the Gray Reaper emerged victorious, the Golden Reapers, who had been watching the fight with sparkling eyes, bounced around in celebration, creating a festival-like atmosphere.

Their pure joy was contagious, and perhaps it was due to the mental pollution effect of the Golden Reapers, but the younger sister found herself feeling a bit happier about the Gray Reaper's victory as well.

As the Golden Reapers hopped around, bumping into each other and tumbling to the ground in their excitement, an odd sound caught her attention.

Cough, cough.

It was a faint sound—so quiet that she might not have heard it if she hadn’t been so close.

No, it couldn’t be.

The thought that her sister might still be alive seemed like a hallucination, born from her desperate hope, so she tried to ignore it.

But if she lowered her head and found her sister still lying motionless, her heart would surely shatter.

Cough, cough.

Then, the small but unmistakable sound of coughing reached her ears again.

Was it really not a hallucination?

“Sis?”

Her voice trembled as she lowered her gaze, only to see her sister, eyes faintly open, looking back at her.

Seeing her sister’s eyes open, the younger sister could do nothing but cry.

She knew she should say something, but no words came out—only tears.

“I told you… I won’t die unless they cut off my head…”

The tattooed woman weakly raised a hand, wiping her younger sister’s tears as she smiled.

“Yes.”

The younger sister clung to that hand as if afraid it might slip away, nodding furiously.

The Golden Reapers clapped their tiny hands, celebrating the sisters’ reunion. Then, they ran off and returned with a giant piece of marshmallow, offering it like a gift.

It was a perfectly toasted, golden-brown marshmallow, so large that it was almost as big as the younger sister’s head, radiating an impressive presence.

Curious about where such a large marshmallow had come from, she looked around and noticed a massive marshmallow lump in the corner of the scorched reception room, with Golden Reapers busy peeling off the charred parts and keeping only the golden-brown sections.

Had that marshmallow always been there?

Taking a small bite, she was surprised by how delicious it was—far better than any ordinary marshmallow.

“Sis, this is really good! Do you want to try some? Actually… are you sure you can eat it?”

Remembering how her sister had been cut in half earlier, the younger sister hesitated, wondering if it was okay to offer her food.

Though her sister’s body had quickly regenerated once she regained consciousness, the younger sister couldn’t shake the worry that such a serious injury might not have fully healed.

“I’m fine. I’m just a bit dizzy from blood loss, that’s all.”

“Then let’s eat together!”

Smiling brightly, the younger sister fed her sister a piece of the marshmallow.

The woman accepted the piece but frowned slightly as she chewed.

‘This atmosphere feels too cheerful for the situation… Is it the mental pollution? I’m sure I gave her the antidote…’

Still, she was too injured to act on her suspicions, so she simply let the thought pass.

The marshmallow, perfectly toasted, tasted incredibly delicious to both sisters.

Behind the happiness of the sisters, a soft, mournful cry echoed in the background.

“Kew-hing-hing.”

While munching on the roasted white Angler Reaper, they celebrated their victory.

Every so often, they checked the Mini Reaper Garden, waiting for the Angler Reaper to respawn as a confectionery.

Ever since dying at the hands of the Angler Reaper, she had been eager to smash its head in as soon as possible.

But the Angler Reaper was taking its time to respawn.

Realizing they couldn’t wait forever, she stood up, sending out her intention.

After defeating the 'Dungeon Boss,' there’s usually a treasure chest to find.

‘Let’s go, everyone!’

With a cheerful stride, they headed toward the large, ornate door that had remained untouched by the battle.

The door that the Angler Reaper had seemed so intent on protecting.

Pushing the heavy door open with ease, a soft creaking sound filled the air, revealing the scene inside.

It was pure fantasy.

As the door opened, torches lining the room automatically ignited, casting a magical glow over the space.

Strange, exotic plants writhed in pots, and glass flasks on the shelves bubbled with colorful froth.

On a large table, a mysterious crystal ball floated, with stars gently swirling inside it.

Nearby, precise measuring instruments like astrolabes and sextants were neatly arranged.

Swords, meticulously crafted and sharp, hung on the walls, alongside thick leather coats.

It was a room straight out of a fantasy world, a place that seemed to belong to a wizard, a swordsman, or perhaps an alchemist.

Judging by the doll’s head earlier, it seemed most likely to be the workshop of an alchemist.

The Mini Reapers scattered throughout the room, their eyes shining with excitement as they marveled at the strange tools.

As I slowly stepped into the room, something caught my attention.

A massive mirror stood in the corner, but it wasn’t just a reflection. Inside the mirror, I saw something that looked just like me—along with a blue-haired girl and the white Angler Reaper.

The blue-haired girl smiled brightly, as if posing for a family photo.

The reflection of myself—no, the gray figure that resembled me—sat motionless, expressionless.

And the little white Angler Reaper had the saddest look on its face.

The blue-haired girl felt oddly familiar, like I had seen her in visions before. She looked so much like me that it made her feel even more familiar.

But something about the gray figure in the mirror felt wrong. It looked like me, but it didn’t feel like me. Something fundamental was missing—memories, maybe, or something even deeper.

I’d often glimpsed the blue-haired girl while interacting with Objects, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was guiding me toward her—some fateful connection.

What does it all mean?

I don’t know.

As I stared into the mirror, deep in thought, a Golden Reaper came running over, its expression filled with urgency.

I could tell from its face what it wanted to say.

‘Mom, hurry!’

I followed the Golden Reaper to a small, cozy room.

There was a large, soft bed, surrounded by small, neatly arranged furniture.

The room felt strangely familiar and comfortable.

It didn’t take long to figure out why.

If you added a TV and some electronic devices, it would be an exact replica of my isolation room.

How curious.

It’s amazing how similar our tastes could be.

And there, lying in the middle of the large bed, was the blue-haired girl.

In this familiar, cozy room, the girl lay there, clutching a broken orb, motionless.

Strictly speaking, she wasn’t dead—she was destroyed.

After all, she wasn’t human. She was an Object.

The girl had been destroyed long ago, just another Object now.

The little Angler Reaper dreamed a very long dream.

A dream that stretched from the distant past to the present, filled with happiness.

The dream began at the moment of its creation.

Inside a large flask, sealed tightly, the Angler Reaper gazed up at the 'Eye,' while its master explained its mission in a gentle voice.

“Protect that Eye. And fight off any intruders before the lead doll returns. Got it?”

It seemed like such an easy task.

The little Angler Reaper had flames powerful enough to burn any magical tome to ashes.

“Kew.”

But the little Angler Reaper made a dissatisfied noise.

Why was the lead doll always given the most important role?

It was clumsy, slow, and couldn’t even move its body properly!

It was jealous.

Jealous of the lead doll, who always had the master’s full attention.

Even in her final moments, the master kept fixing the lead doll over and over and over again.

Years passed, and finally, the master could no longer move.

“I wish I could’ve met him…”

The master lamented her short lifespan, knowing she wouldn’t live long enough to meet 'him.'

Sensing that the master’s end was near, the little Angler Reaper gently moved her body onto the bed.

Slowly, with its small limbs.

In her final moments, the master whispered to the little Angler Reaper.

“I’m sorry.”

The Angler Reaper didn’t want to hear an apology.

If this was the end, it would’ve preferred some words of encouragement instead.

When the master died, the clumsy lead doll also stopped moving, leaving the workshop in eternal silence.

But the little Angler Reaper faithfully carried out its master’s last command.

It burned countless toothy Anglers who had once been its comrades but had gone mad, devouring their cores.

How many years had passed?

Finally, the moment arrived.

The moment of destiny that the master had spoken of.

A faint explosion echoed from the surface, and the lead doll disappeared.

The master had known everything.

And that made it jealous.

Why was it that all it could do was wait?

So…

For the first and only time, the little Angler Reaper disobeyed its master’s command.

It consumed the 'Eye.'

Instead of merely guarding and delivering the Eye, it would become the final trial for the lead doll.

According to the master, the lead doll would easily defeat the little Angler Reaper.

‘So if I win, that means I’m better suited for the master’s plan.’

And soon, it felt the lead doll approaching.

A familiar presence.

The little Angler Reaper placed its core in the master’s hand and set out on its path.

And it lost.

In the end, the master was right.

The little Angler Reaper could never defeat the lead doll.

But it was still happy.

It had fulfilled its master’s final command.

Yet, the little Angler Reaper felt a deep sadness.

Its role had come to an end.

It would never return to the master’s side in that eternal sleep.

As the endless dream neared its end, and the little Angler Reaper was about to embrace true death, it felt its consciousness being pulled back to the surface.

The soft ground of marshmallow, the smell of hot chocolate, and the sight of the lead doll, grinning brightly with clenched fists.

!!!