Like drawing a galaxy across the sky, the beautiful trail of the sword illuminated the dark alley.

The shimmering stars, as if plucked straight from the Milky Way, were flowing within a golden waterfall of light.

Somehow, that glitter seemed to be connected to the very essence of the Golden Reaper—its life force, soul, or something fundamental within it.

As a result, the faint flames that enveloped the Golden Reaper grew dimmer with each passing moment, and its figure began to fade.

The Golden Reaper no longer darted about, using the alley's terrain and walls as it had earlier.

It simply swung its enormous sword, much larger than itself, again and again.

While the swarm of killers was no match for the Reaper’s overwhelming strength, the student could see how perilous the situation was becoming.

Though the Golden Reaper stood upright, seemingly stable at a glance, a closer look revealed that its legs were trembling ever so slightly.

It was clear that it was barely holding itself together, gritting its teeth and pushing through what seemed to be an impending collapse.

It wasn’t that the Golden Reaper had stopped its three-dimensional movement—it simply lacked the energy to continue.

Instead of using its minimal movements to defeat enemies, it had opted to expand the size of its sword and eliminate them without moving.

That radiant, awe-inspiring trail of light even caused the killers to hesitate in fear.

But the price for such dazzling strikes was steadily mounting.

With each swing, the Reaper’s presence slowly became more transparent.

With each swing, its body seemed to crumble bit by bit.

“Just run. Even if you help me, there’s no hope,” the student repeated, his voice tinged with sadness, believing that the Golden Reaper’s self-sacrifice was futile.

But the Golden Reaper only responded with a warm, content smile.

As if protecting the student with its sword was all the happiness it needed.

Seeing that smile, the student found himself unable to speak any further.

It felt as though he could sense the Reaper’s emotions.

Maybe it was because of the chaos of the situation, but the student thought he must have gone a little mad, closing his mouth and silently wishing for the Reaper’s survival.

'I hope this kind Golden Reaper can make it out alive.'

He wished that this selfless entity wouldn’t have to sacrifice its life meaninglessly.

He hoped that this wish would reach any god who might be listening.

It hurts.

My body is burning away, turning into fuel.

Normally, converting one’s body into fuel didn’t serve much purpose.

Fuel wasn’t of much use when trying to protect my beloved human.

But now, I have the power to transform this fuel into a sword of light.

The sword, which scattered brilliant starlight from the hand raised high, extended toward the evil objects.

With each swing of the sword, fuel was consumed, and my body burned further to replenish it.

The more I burned my body, the more foggy my mind became.

I could barely tell whether I was holding the sword or even swinging it correctly.

I was just moving the blade out of pure habit, having swung it tens of thousands of times before.

“Just run. Even if you help, there’s no hope,” came the incomprehensible words from my beloved human.

I gave a sad smile.

It was because I could feel the emotions coming from them.

My beloved human wished for my survival, even if it meant their own death.

Their wish was just like my own.

Even if I were to die, I wanted my beloved human to live.

I wanted them to always laugh and find joy, and I swung my sword again.

'I want my beloved human to always feel happiness.'

With that wish in mind, the sword's trail sliced another object in half.

Thud.

At that moment, my body collapsed to one side.

One of my legs crumbled, unable to support me any longer.

But even as one leg failed, I poured my strength into the other and swung the sword once more.

Through my blurred vision, I saw my body growing more transparent.

As my fuel ran out, my body began to dry up and crumble like brittle sand.

“You were incredible. But now, it seems the end is near,” came the voice of the 'evil object,' full of triumphant satisfaction.

It was the voice of someone who felt their victory was imminent.

But I pretended not to hear it and continued swinging my sword silently.

Thud.

This time, I heard something crumble inside my head.

Something important had broken.

I could barely see now.

What had been a blurred vision was now becoming filled with darkness.

Yet, in my hazy state, I continued to wield the sword.

But I had an ability to track emotions and malice.

As long as I could feel the warm emotions of my beloved human, that was enough.

As long as I could sense the malice of the evil objects approaching my beloved human, that was enough.

I only had one small wish left.

To retain this sense until the moment of my death.

To keep swinging my sword until I died.

With that wish, I swung again.

Even as the evil object mocked my pointless death.

Even as my beloved human worried over me.

In my hazy state, I continued to swing the sword, my wish fueling every strike.

In the endless darkness, my sword finally struck something.

It was a space I could barely reach after expending all the fuel I had.

At that moment...

I understood 'space.'

The endless darkness began to shatter.

The alleys stretching endlessly to the sides.

The infinite swarm of evil objects charging toward me.

And my beloved human, watching over me with a sorrowful expression.

It wasn’t a world of light—it was a world of space.

In this world, I saw the threads of space.

Though my body was crumbling, I opened my eyes wide and focused on the space ahead.

I only had enough fuel left for one final strike.

And so, with a serious expression, I raised my sword and swung it toward the threads of space.

The slash was as sharp as my mother’s cuts through space, leaving no noticeable mark, only a small tear.

But I smiled happily.

The Golden Reaper’s final technique had been unleashed.

The 'Ultimate Call for Mother.'

The brilliant trail of the sword slashed through the empty air.

The Golden Reaper’s final strike had landed on nothing but the void.

The Reaper, which had been gradually deteriorating, had finally reached this point.

And just like that, the Golden Reaper collapsed, motionless like a doll whose battery had run out.

“Reaper…”

The student couldn’t bring himself to touch the Golden Reaper, as fragile as it now appeared, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch.

All he could do was stand there, anxiously watching the fallen figure.

“Hahaha, finally!”

The female classmate clutched her stomach, laughing loudly as if she’d found the whole situation hilarious.

She rambled on about how she knew it would happen, mocking the useless struggle and reveling in her enjoyment.

The crowd of people, all wearing the faces of killers, joined in her hollow laughter, their expressions vacant and eerie.

After a long stretch of laughter, the classmate suddenly stopped and glanced down at her wristwatch.

“The Mapo District killings. From 6 p.m. to 4 a.m.”

Her voice was flat and emotionless, a stark contrast to her earlier laughter.

Raising her head, she curled one side of her lip into a twisted smile.

“Not much time left. One person per day.”

Her movements were oddly stiff, like a poorly controlled puppet.

And as soon as those words left her mouth, the killer resumed its pursuit, sprinting toward the student with alarming speed.

Just as the killer raised its dagger high, ready to strike, space around the student exploded violently.

It wasn’t the clean, precise cut that the Golden Reaper had used to heal him—it was rough, torn apart as if by force.

And from that tear came a familiar scent of chocolate.

Thud thud.

From the massive hole, at least five meters wide, a grayish figure emerged, walking slowly, looking thoroughly annoyed.

It was none other than the most powerful object in Korea.

The 'Gray Reaper.'

It had been a pleasant day.

I liked the Reaper’s exclusive resort, and the lightsaber gifted by the Golden Reapers was also great.

And the highlight of the day was supposed to be the duel between the Red Reaper, who wielded a weapon made of flames, and the Golden Reaper with the lightsaber.

In the center of the Mini Reaper Colosseum, the Golden Reaper stood with a serious expression, while the Red Reaper looked carefree.

The Red Reaper, just as I had recommended, was holding a flame hammer in one hand and a flame scythe in the other—a formidable warrior. The sight of it brought a smile to my face.

It was bound to be an incredible, entertaining match, no matter who won.

But my pleasant mood plummeted in an instant.

That’s because a sharp cut had appeared in the space next to my ear.

And from that tear came an incredibly faint signal.

The cut hadn’t appeared directly next to me—if it had, I might not have even noticed the faint will coming from it.

'Mother…'

It was a pitiful will, like a dying breath in its final moments.

As soon as I heard it, my mood soured completely, and I thrust my hands into the crack, tearing it wide open.

Riiip.

The sound of the space being torn echoed loudly across the Mini Reaper Garden.

Beyond the tear, I saw the Golden Reaper, lying on the ground, barely hanging on with almost no fuel left.

Despite always being able to return to the 'Mini Reaper Garden' at any time, the Golden Reaper had once again gotten hurt and called for me.

With a ferocious smile, I surveyed my surroundings.

The ominous yellow moon, and the evil objects with significant presence.

These were the ones tormenting my child—my child who only I was allowed to torment.

As I poured fuel into the Golden Reaper, who looked like it might fall apart at any moment, the other Mini Reapers began to follow me through the hole into this world.

The Red Reaper with its scythe and hammer.

The Black Reaper with its arms shaped into blades.

The Blue Reaper wielding a staff made of water.

And finally, the Golden Reaper with the lightsaber.

The Mini Reapers, seeing their wounded comrade, raised their weapons, ready for vengeance.