Deep within the Mini Reaper Garden, at the Milk Shaved Ice Snowfield.

I held up the white hamster, carefully observing it.

Its fluffy, snow-white fur.

Its chubby cheeks, as if stuffed with something.

Its long tail, adorned with countless fruits.

The fruits on its tail gleamed with a sugary coating, making them look incredibly delicious.

"They look strangely tasty."

Thinking this, I pulled one of the sugar-coated fruits from the hamster’s tail and popped it into my mouth.

Munch, munch.

I savored the round green grape, which tasted far better than I’d anticipated.

Of course, it was sweet—no surprise given the sugar coating.

I had expected the fruit to be hard and dried out under all that sugar, but it was actually moist and flavorful.

If I were still human, I’d probably brace myself for a toothache from all this sugar.

But with my immunity to physical harm, I could eat any type of treat without worry.

No matter how tough the candy.

No matter how sticky and sweet!

Hehe.

As I continued to pluck the fruits from the hamster’s tail and eat them, it started wriggling its limbs as if to say, "Those are my precious fruits!"

Only seconds ago, it seemed terrified, but now it was fighting back.

Seeing it struggle, even shedding tears, I could tell these fruits were precious to the hamster.

As I munched on the sugar-coated fruits that kept sprouting from its tail, a thought came to mind.

A snowfield covered in snow.

A skewer for round, processed things.

The two images merged in my mind, reminding me of a particular Object.

The vile Object that had scarred Yerin's neck!

When I realized that Yerin’s wound was proof that dreams could become reality, I’d wanted to meet this Object so badly.

So, so badly.

I’d been distracted by the hamster’s fruits and only recalled it now, but better late than never.

Hehe.

What would be the best way to torment this hamster so word would spread?

As my thoughts turned to revenge, I could feel my smile twisting in delight.

Seeing my sinister expression reflected in the hamster’s fearful eyes, I wore a truly wicked and satisfied grin.

The hamster lay sprawled on the ground, its limbs detached.

"Phew, finally succeeded."

I looked down at it with a satisfied smile.

I hadn’t merely severed its limbs; I’d separated them by distorting space itself.

Its limbs remained attached but were now sprouting from other places!

For someone like me, who usually relied on brute force when using my spatial powers, this was a difficult task.

But considering the scar it left on Yerin, this punishment seemed appropriate.

And I started pondering various ways to torment the hamster further.

The first idea was a prank called "Flamingos, Fire, and Prometheus."

In this prank, I’d bind the hamster, slice its belly into a cross shape, and call for the Sugar Flamingo.

It would then peck away at the hamster's liver eternally, like the punishment of Prometheus.

It was a "highly educational" prank based on myth.

But thinking about it, the Mini Reapers might not appreciate this one, so I decided against it.

After all, pranks should be delicious, like tearing apart and roasting a white Corpse Reaper.

In the end, I settled on a prank and created a large vending machine while wearing a halo on my head.

The halo immediately caused discomfort, but I endured it for Yerin's sake.

This was for revenge on the scar left on Yerin!

The structure of the vending machine was simple.

The hamster would be bound inside, and a warden would repeatedly pull the fruits from the hamster’s tail.

The warden role was assigned to the Sugar Flamingo.

Having escaped the eternal flame punishment, the Flamingo would happily pluck fruits from the hamster’s tail.

Hehe.

The vending machine was complete, ensuring that the hamster, now limbless, would be deprived of its precious sugar-coated fruits forever.

At the construction site of James Tower, located in a corner of Songpa District.

There, James was having a video call with a man displayed on his monitor.

[James, just as you mentioned, we confirmed the complete disappearance of the Snowy Moon in Russia.]

"The moment described in Book 0 is fast approaching. We must prepare thoroughly, just as it says in Book 0."

James tapped the thick book in his hands as he spoke.

[Russia has detected the end of the Object incident and is deploying people. The death toll has exceeded a million by now.]

"That’s to be expected. Such a vast area was devoured. Everyone inside likely perished."

On his secure computer screen, video footage began to appear.

It showed Siberia, an endless expanse of snow with no obstacles or hills.

But suddenly, the snowfield began to change.

The footage showed people collapsed unconscious on the snow, entire cities frozen and abandoned.

The scene was like something from a painting, but it had become horrifyingly real.

[The Seven-Colored Moon is almost complete in the sky. Only the Green Moon remains.]

"Still no sign of the Green Moon? This time, I hope we’re the first to discover it..."

James glanced out the window at the dim sky and the moons.

"Well, that’s just wishful thinking. By the way, what’s the status of the spectral detector I requested?"

As the hour-long meeting was ending, James glanced at his wristwatch.

It was about the spectral detector requested by Sehee Lab.

[They say importing it is impossible. Apparently, they’re blocking the import of spectral detectors meant for research labs in Korea.]

"What?"

The Korean Object Association had always been unpredictable, but this time their actions were inexplicable.

"Hmm, looks like I’ll have to bring it over personally."

James thanked the caller for the update, despite the inconvenience, and ended the call.

"I’d planned on going soon anyway, so now I have a solid reason to visit."

Turning off his computer, James looked in the direction of Sehee Lab.

Back at my sanctuary in the isolation room of Sehee Lab.

I lay on the bed, eating pudding, watching TV.

The Purple Reapers beside me had their hands clasped tightly, fully absorbed in the screen.

They were so engrossed that they didn’t react when I poked their chubby cheeks.

It’s impressive how focused they were, despite not understanding the language.

Maybe they’re smarter than I thought?

Sometimes, the thought of Mini Reapers getting smarter gave me chills.

I hope they won’t turn into rebellious Reapers.

I’m a good mom, so it should be fine.

The TV showed a movie about superhumans who had gained powers from Objects.

One of the main villains, like the Purple Reapers, could absorb impacts.

I’d seen it before and considered changing the channel, but the Purple Reapers seemed too engrossed to interrupt.

So, instead of watching the movie, I watched the Purple Reapers.

Looking closer, I noticed each one’s outfit had slightly different details.

Were they expressing their own style?

Now that I think about it, their outfits did seem to change slightly every day.

Then, suddenly, they clutched the blanket tightly and leaned forward.

The movie was nearing its end.

"No!"

"Don’t!"

It was the climactic scene where the villain, who couldn’t be killed by physical means, met their end.

They used mental contamination to prevent the villain from using their powers and then dealt the finishing blow—a harsh, brutal scene.

As the villain finally died, the Purple Reapers lowered their heads, tears streaming down their cheeks.

"Mom!"

"Mama!"

They clung to me, sobbing.

"There, there, it’s okay. It’s okay."

I didn’t understand what part of the movie made them so sad, but I comforted them, patting their heads.

The next day.

Among the Purple Reapers, an odd helmet became a trend.

It was the same helmet from the movie, designed to block mental contamination.

"!"

Wait, had they been empathizing with the villain?

In a dark, empty room.

On a wheelchair, Oh Muryong stared up at his granddaughter inside a capsule.

Cough, cough.

With age, Oh Muryong's health was rapidly deteriorating.

"I can’t die yet. Not yet."

His twisted, desperate face reflected on the capsule's glass.

In his quarters, there was an old, antique-looking lamp, which he lifted as he cried out.

"How much longer? How many more clones and emotions must I gather?"

[Not enough yet.]

A small, ominous red light flickered in the lamp, and a voice like a crackling old woman’s rasped out.

"Heh, I figured."

Oh Muryong chuckled bitterly and then pulled out a tightly sealed case.

It seemed to contain a lamp-shaped Object, apparently once belonging to the Head of the Third Lab.

"If one won’t suffice, I’ll have to use two."

He sought the Evolution Fluid, rumored to destroy Objects and extend lifespan.

"I can’t die yet."

He slowly unsealed the case, muttering repeatedly, "For my granddaughter."