Thud, thud.

I found myself walking through the mud, my vision blurred.

It felt as though time had frozen, with everything in the world at a standstill except for me.

In this strange scene, I was aware that I was clearly dreaming.

The darkened mud rippled as if it were flowing rapidly beneath my feet, and in the midst of it stood a lone bed, oddly out of place against the muddy backdrop.

This bed, jutting out of the endless sea of mud, seemed eerily familiar.

Large and soft-looking, it was the same bed where the blue girl’s corpse had lain.

Was I dreaming about the blue girl because I had created a gingerbread house earlier to preserve both her and the bed?

Stepping over the hardened mud, which had frozen in time like a stone, I slowly made my way toward the bed.

As I gazed down at the intricately carved, antique bed, a faint voice drifted toward me.

It felt as if a conversation from a certain point in time had been cut out and delivered to me in fragments.

It was the blue girl’s voice, playful and slightly exaggerated in tone.

“Humans killed the gods. Then, they needed them again. The gods were cruel, but they protected humanity.”

“The issue lies with the word ‘cruel.’ The gods couldn’t understand humans because they weren’t human themselves. Maybe they didn’t even have the concept of ‘understanding.’”

“That’s why humans must become gods.”

With that last sentence, the blue girl’s bed turned black and crumbled like mud.

“Humans must become gods.”

That phrase stuck with me.

As the bed disintegrated, another object appeared in the distance.

This one, too, had a familiar shape.

It was a statue of a man, fist raised to the sky, looking upward.

Though there were some slight differences, the man’s appearance was unmistakably that of the leader of the Eye Cult.

A voice flowed from the statue once again.

It was the calm voice of the leader, free from madness.

“Humans cannot become gods.”

“Every human who became a magical tome went insane; there’s no way they could become gods.”

“We can only endure, accumulating suffering and waiting.”

The leader’s statue, like the bed, turned to mud and collapsed.

In the distance, yet another object emerged.

This time, it was a perfectly smooth black sphere, unlike anything else in the muddy world.

The Unchanging Black Orb.

As I approached the orb, a tiny voice whispered from it.

The voice was faint, like the dying breath of someone clinging to life.

“The magical tome that killed the gods must disappear for the gods to return.”

“May my wish reach the gods.”

With those final words, my vision began to blur even more, and the dream came to an end.

Silence enveloped me, accompanied by the warmth of the bed that held me.

When I woke from the dream, the quiet isolation chamber greeted me.

It seemed morning had yet to come, as Se-hee’s lab was silent, and the Mini Reapers had piled up on top of me, snuggled up and fast asleep.

Next to my head lay a single, white wrist, giving off a sweet coconut scent.

Behind that wrist, I could see the Angler Reaper, its eyes sparkling as it stared at me expectantly, its chin resting on the edge of the bed as if waiting for me to take a bite.

“Eat it?”

When I lifted the wrist and sent out my intent, the Angler Reaper nodded eagerly.

Was this like when a cat brings you a mouse every morning?

I took a bite out of the jelly-like wrist, which looked exactly like mine, except for the color.

It was delicious.

It felt a bit strange, like I was eating a part of myself, but amusing in its own way.

As I enjoyed the Angler Reaper’s wrist, a curious thought crossed my mind.

What if the Mini Reapers' wrists are just as tasty?

With that thought in mind, I glanced at the Golden Reaper’s wrist. It must have sensed something because, suddenly, the Golden Reaper woke up.

Looking around in confusion, it couldn’t figure out the source of the bad feeling, so it shrugged and burrowed back into my embrace, falling asleep again.

I gently opened the Mini Reaper’s tiny palm and patted it, pondering whether I should give in to temptation.

To eat or not to eat?

I kept contemplating this very difficult decision.

Now that I thought about it, the Golden Reaper did smell quite good, too.

Through the textured darkness, a mysterious city could be seen.

It was an underground city created by an Object, accessible through a hole in the park.

A researcher wandered around, inspecting the disorganized mix of different civilizations that filled the city.

Although nothing particularly special caught his eye, the city bore a resemblance to ruins occasionally associated with Objects, making it worthy of further research.

Of course, the Object Association aide known as "Golden Bug" had no interest in any of that.

Despite frequently showing up during the transportation of gold from the city, where he had blocked employee access, Golden Bug had now disappeared for weeks.

Once he seemed satisfied that all the valuable gold had been extracted, he allowed the Association employees to enter the site.

Now, only a few of his private soldiers remained, keeping a watchful eye for anything else of value.

The researcher, walking around the inner chambers of the city, couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

It was clear that someone had been here before the Association arrived.

The dust and the marks where things had been removed from the walls, like paintings or mirrors, made that obvious.

Even something as large as a bed seemed to have been moved, suggesting a well-organized group had come through in secret.

The most important items, whatever they had been, were gone.

All that remained were books written in strange, indecipherable languages and glass containers that didn’t seem significant.

Still, the researcher had to admit that the numerous books written in an entirely new language system were a valuable find.

With that thought, the researcher diligently transported the mountain of books back to the surface.

The tattooed woman sat in her workshop, staring up at a tower that seemed to pierce the sky.

It was the James Tower, which had begun construction in South Korea.

After buying up cheap land on the outskirts of Songpa-gu, the construction of James Tower was breathing new life into the once-abandoned area.

The residential area, once desolate, was slowly becoming more populated as people began moving in, something that had made her sister quite happy as the value of their cheap home had risen.

For the tattooed woman, it just meant the nearby shopping district was becoming more convenient, but that was about it.

However, there was a far more significant change that had directly impacted her.

Her workshop, once limited to drying and grinding herbs, was now starting to resemble a proper alchemist's workshop.

This transformation was thanks to the many tools she had taken from the "Dead Alchemist’s Workshop" in the park.

“Want to try this too?”

Her sister, sitting in a corner of the workshop, was happily breaking pieces of potato chips and feeding them to the Golden Reaper.

Nom, nom.

The Golden Reaper chewed the small pieces, its tiny mouth munching away, while her sister watched with delight.

Normally, the tattooed woman would have kicked her sister out of the workshop by now, but she let it slide.

The reason? Her current research subject was none other than the Golden Reaper.

Golden Reapers, prone to disappearing the moment they lost interest, made it difficult to study them.

The inspiration for this research came from a painting she had found in the "Dead Alchemist’s Workshop."

It was a detailed portrait of a blue-haired girl and a Gray Reaper.

Seeing the blue-haired girl, who looked exactly like the Gray Reaper, had finally answered many of her lingering questions.

The blue girl explained the sudden appearance of a guardian who had no prior connection to the world of alchemy.

The Gray Reaper was likely the masterpiece of the blue-haired girl, who must have been an extraordinary alchemist in her lifetime.

In a way, she owed her life, as well as the tools she had recovered from the workshop, to the blue girl and the Gray Reaper.

This research was her way of repaying that debt.

Her goal was to study the Golden Reaper, which had been derived from the Gray Reaper, in order to create weapons, armor, or perhaps even an elixir for the Gray Reaper.

What began as a simple act of repayment had turned into something far more interesting, as countless fascinating details emerged during her research.

The Golden Reaper was clearly a magical being but also had traces of alchemical manipulation.

It possessed rare abilities, such as phasing through matter and time acceleration.

The most intriguing discovery, however, was its "energy."

The light radiating from the Golden Reaper’s heart was incredibly potent despite the relatively small amount of energy it contained.

But oddly enough, the Golden Reaper wasn’t using this energy to its full potential.

At most, it could fire beams of light by absorbing sunlight.

Focusing on that point, the tattooed woman crafted a weapon specifically for the Golden Reaper.

She called it the Golden Reaper’s Sword of Light.

“Alright, let’s begin the power test.”

She handed the Golden Reaper a sword hilt, and the little creature’s face lit up like it had just received a fun new toy.

“Ready?”

As soon as she finished speaking, the Golden Reaper activated the hilt, summoning a blade made entirely of golden flames.

Grinning brightly, the Golden Reaper raised the blazing sword above its head.

“Begin!”

With the word “begin,” the Golden Reaper swung the sword downward.

As the blade extended with the swing, it easily sliced through the iron bar that had been set as the target.

The iron bar, made from the strongest "anti-Object" alloy available in South Korea, was cut cleanly in half, without any resistance.

Seeing the bar fall apart, the Golden Reaper happily jumped up and down, delighted by its success.

After months of hard work, the final test of the weapon had been a success.

The tattooed woman turned her head to see five more small weapons, each designed specifically for the Golden Reaper, lying nearby.

Next to them was the large hilt of a sword made for the Gray Reaper.

This should be enough to repay my debt.

With a satisfied smile, the tattooed woman looked over the successfully completed weapons.