Located on the outskirts of Songpa District, James Tower had once served as a refuge for countless people during the war against the association dolls. Now, it was gradually regaining peace.

Around the tower, restoration efforts were in full swing.

Employees of the James Laboratory were busily moving near the outer walls, clearing away the scattered remnants of the dolls.

As if recovering from an earthquake, barricades were set up around the broken asphalt and shattered concrete, and repairs were underway.

‘Only one defector from the association doll incident... that's a relief,’ thought James, as he reviewed the reports related to the doll crisis.

There had been several dangerous moments, especially with dolls that couldn’t be broken even with object bullets, but the situation had passed with less damage than expected.

Suddenly, James thought of Alex, the former head of security.

The only defector, Alex, had returned to the United States not long ago.

‘He left with his doll, looking heartbroken. But strangely enough, there were no signs of mental contamination.’

James pondered for a moment.

He had attached Alex’s documentation at the end of the report he was preparing for the U.S. Object Association.

He hoped that Alex could return to his former self and resume his position as head of security.

<Name: Alex>
<Gender: Male>

<Symptoms: Alex shows a pathological obsession with a specific doll. Although there is no mental contamination, his ability to discern reality is significantly impaired, prioritizing his relationship with the doll over real human connections.>

<Treatment Plan: Alex’s obsession may make him susceptible to mental contamination, so intensive mental health treatment is recommended. He should be reassigned to a position with minimal exposure to objects and receive long-term cognitive behavioral therapy.>

<Remarks: Since there are no signs of mental contamination, object-specific treatments are not expected to be necessary.>

After closing the report, James looked out the window and saw people gathered in the open space, playing with the golden reapers.

Some were pressing their cheeks against the reapers, asking for a “pat-pat,” while the golden reapers wore awkward expressions.

‘Is that behavior due to mental contamination, or is it just a normal reaction to something cute?’

James mused, a thought that often crossed his mind whenever he saw the golden reapers. Suddenly, something tugged at his earlobe.

It was a message from the gray reaper, delivered by a golden reaper, seemingly saying, ‘Hurry up and make a gift for mom!’

"Alright, alright. Just wait a little longer, I’ll start working on it soon."

James patted the golden reaper’s head and handed it a sour purple candy. The golden reaper happily sucked on the candy, and after watching it for a moment, James turned to the final report on his desk.

<Tracking Report of the Escaped Objects from the Secret Laboratory>

The report detailed how nearly all of the escaped objects had been eliminated by the golden reapers.

<It appears that, unlike the other objects, Maker’s escape was aided by external forces.>

The only exception was "Maker," whose whereabouts remained unknown.

A golden streak cut through the sky above the mini reaper garden.

Thump, thump.

I slowly followed the golden trail as it dissipated, like ink spreading through water.

Following the fading trail, I arrived at a place where a cluster of golden reapers had gathered.

‘Mom’s here!’

‘Mom!’

Noticing my arrival, the golden reapers—who had been rolling around like moss balls—peeked out.

How do they even manage to form such a massive clump?

They often roll around and bump into each other, but this was the largest bundle I’d ever seen.

Lifting the golden ball of reapers, they giggled, amused.

Realizing they wouldn’t be able to disentangle themselves on their own, I began pulling out their limbs, one by one.

As I set the golden reapers down on the soft marshmallow ground, they immediately resumed rolling around.

Roll, roll!

It seemed like another strange trend was spreading.

Was the new thing just rolling around aimlessly?

I grabbed the last remaining golden reaper and asked who started this rolling craze.

The golden reaper tilted its head, as if not understanding the question, then smiled brightly and responded.

‘Mom!’

Ah...

Now that I think about it, I used to roll around the marshmallow plains quite often. Maybe they learned it by watching me?

Recently, I’d been rolling back and forth between the courtyard marshmallow and the garden marshmallow, so that must be it.

It was a subtle phenomenon, and I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad for their development.

Rolling around couldn’t be that harmful, right?

Suddenly feeling the urge, I lay down on the ground and joined the golden reapers in rolling around.

Roll, roll!

Hmm...

I felt like I was forgetting something, but it didn’t seem important.

I hugged the golden reapers close and rolled freely across the soft marshmallow garden.

In the mini reaper garden, near the white maw’s habitat, the plains once filled with white maws had been taken over by the invading red reapers, the blonde girl, and the black agent.

‘Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the white maw around lately.’

The blonde girl sipped tea with the black agent, observing the red reapers playing in the marshmallow plains.

The smallest red reaper raised its hands high, brandishing a flaming hammer and sickle, spreading its will.

‘Revolution!’

The surrounding red reapers, gathered in droves, mimicked the motion.

‘Revolution!’

It was like watching older siblings indulging their youngest sibling in a game.

As the blonde girl watched them, a single question lingered in her mind.

How did "Mom" know about the hammer, sickle, and revolution?

The gray reaper, after all, had spent an extraordinary amount of time watching TV. So it wasn’t surprising that it had picked up on such things.

Could it be said that the gray reaper understood language?

Considering how often it watched TV, it didn’t seem like it was trying to hide that fact.

If anything, it was strange that most people in Korea believed the gray reaper didn’t understand language.

As the blonde girl pondered, a red reaper approached and poked her cheek.

When she turned to look, she saw the red reaper’s slightly sullen expression.

Could it be tired of playing with the other sisters?

But when she glanced over, all the red reapers were consoling it with concerned expressions.

‘Can’t find the maw. It’s gone.’

Recently, the red reaper had only been playing with its red sisters, but it seemed to have suddenly wanted to play with the white maw again.

Hearing the red reaper’s plea, the blonde girl stood and looked around the marshmallow plains, but there was no trace of the white maw.

Since the red sisters had joined, and the red reaper population had increased five hundredfold, the white maw had been hunted and burned numerous times.

But the white maw was an infinitely regenerating object.

It couldn’t have gone extinct like a regular animal.

“Alright, let’s go find it.”

The blonde girl’s words made the red reaper smile, and it climbed atop her head.

‘Let’s go!’

With the red reaper’s energetic spirit, the blonde girl and the red reaper sisters began searching the marshmallow plains.

But no matter how far they traveled, they found no trace of the white maw.

They wandered through other areas like the snowy fields and deserts, but the maw was nowhere to be found.

‘Where could it have gone?’

It didn’t seem likely that it had left the garden, a place meant to give peace to the objects it housed.

The blonde girl turned to the black agent, who was covered in red reapers, and asked.

“Have you seen the white maw anywhere, mister?”

“I haven’t seen it either.”

While the black agent answered, the blonde girl tried to shake off the red reapers clinging to him.

But the moment she looked away, they sneakily latched back on.

“What if we borrowed a different perspective?”

“A different perspective?”

The black agent pointed to the sky.

Floating above them was an orange reaper, smiling kindly.

“An orange reaper, huh…”

Though the blonde girl seemed a little hesitant, she called the orange reaper and asked if it had seen the white maw.

The orange reaper, with its playful smile, giggled and whispered an important bit of information.

‘It’s hiding between the candy mountains and the marshmallow plains.’

Following the orange reaper’s guidance, they headed toward the candy mountains, but even near the mountains, there was no sign of the white maw.

Could the orange reaper have tricked them?

Just as that thought crossed her mind, she heard the black agent’s admiring voice.

“Miss, I’ve found it. The white maws were using camouflage.”

The black agent pointed toward what appeared to be a wall of marshmallows decorated to resemble the candy mountains.

It was a secret hideout, cleverly hidden by the vast expanse of the mini reaper garden and its illusions.

When the blonde girl approached the wall and peered over it, she saw countless white maws basking in the sunlight, smiling contentedly.

But as the warm sunlight bathed the inner sanctum, a large shadow began to loom over it.

The white maws, who had been enjoying a brief, peaceful respite, once again let out their pitiful cries.

Squeal, squeal!

Once, the building that housed the Object Association had been replaced by a new organization with a different name.

[Object Safety Management Council.]

The Object Association’s research and development division had been cut away, leaving behind an organization focused solely on the regulation and safety of objects.

Deep within this Object Safety Management Council, a middle-aged man was smirking deviously.

“Good, very good.”

His expression perfectly matched the nickname “Golden Insect,” which the staff had used to mock him during his time as a director at the Object Association.

He was reviewing the hidden funds and secret research data that had once been stashed away by Oh Murong.

The amount far exceeded Golden Iron’s expectations.

As he flipped through the documents, he swiftly sorted them.

Liquid assets went to the right, everything else to the left.

Naturally, the numerous research projects once conducted by the association were discarded to the left.

As Golden Iron worked, his secretary, looking surprised, spoke up.

“Sir? Is something wrong?”

“Chairman, are you just going to throw this object away too?”

The secretary held up a report that included two lamps discovered in Oh Murong’s ruined mansion.

Sigh.

Golden Iron let out a deep sigh and spoke to his secretary in a scolding tone.

“Do you think that thing is worth any money?”

“What? But it’s related to the ‘Evolutionary Liquid,’ which supposedly grants immortality, and it’s linked to the groundbreaking association dolls!”

Golden Iron lightly tapped his secretary on the head with his gold-adorned cane.

“What was it that caused Oh Murong to go from wealthy to bankrupt?”

“The lamp, sir.”

“And what about the head of the Third Research Division, who was once highly successful?”

“The lamp, sir…”

“Exactly, the lamp. Or more precisely, the object.”

With a look of disdain, Golden Iron gestured to his nameplate with his cane and continued.

“What’s the name of the organization I chair?”

“The Object Safety Management Council, sir.”

“That’s right. If you really want to make money with objects, you don’t handle the objects directly. You squeeze it out of the people making money from objects.”

Golden Iron chuckled in satisfaction, adding in a low voice, “If you mess with objects, you’ll end up like Oh Murong.”

“So, what should we do with these lamps?”

“Ah, send them to that lab, the one that stores the only ‘special-class’ objects. They’ll handle it.”

Satisfied with his answer, Golden Iron resumed sorting the profitable documents.