Seoul Object Story

Plop-! Plop-!

Did they make so much money selling my adorable figures that they just gave up on researching cool new things?

Then, something caught my eye—a familiar, glittering kennel. Ooh, sparkly! It was even bigger and shinier than the last time I saw it. Inside, the \'Cute Puppy\' was zipping around, full of energy.

The researchers at the institute were scrambling around it, looking all serious and stressed out. Hehe, they were totally on edge.

I hadn’t been able to visit much lately, so the Cute Puppy must’ve missed me. It seemed so happy, prancing around with that smug look on its face, like it owned the place. Huh…? it had become all docile, but now it was all bossy and stuff!

Curious, I slipped into the containment room in my phantom form. And wow, the doggie had grown so big! It was like a mountain now!

I guess its ego grew just as much, because it barked at me like, “How dare you enter my room!”

It was a bark that seemed to have that kind of meaning behind it.

Hah! Silly puppy~ Oh! It seems it didn’t completely forget me! As soon as it saw my face, it started shrinking until it was just the size of my palm.

Then, it flopped down on the floor, looking up at me with those big, bright eyes and let out the cutest little whine.

Nice try, Puppy, but even though you are cute, you’re still a bipedal creature!

*******Drip-! Splatter-!

The boy awoke to the sound of water droplets falling—each drop echoing in the cold, unforgiving silence of the underground prison.

His eyes fluttered open, and the harsh reality of his situation came crashing down on him. He wanted to believe it was all just a horrible dream, but it wasn\'t. This was real.

“Heu… Heuk.”

A soft whimper escaped his lips as he gently lowered the body hanging from the ceiling onto the bed. His hands trembled as he carefully wrapped the corpse with the thin cloth that had once covered the bed.

"Noona…."

Although the boy was in a depressing situation, he tried to understand the situation as best as he could.

Even in this bleak and hopeless situation, the boy tried to make sense of what had happened. The memory of meeting the detective Noona and returning home was still fresh in his mind. But after that…

Nothing.

His memories blurred into a haze of confusion and fear.

Who did this?

Why did they keep me alive?

What if they come back for me?

Am I going to die too?

Noona… Mother… Father… They’re all gone.

He was trapped in a dark, silent cage, paralyzed by terror. Dark, despairing thoughts gnawed at his mind, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself to stand.

This was his chance—his only chance. The absence of the person who had done this gave him a fleeting opportunity to escape.

He approached the iron bars with slow, deliberate steps and pushed against the cage door.

Creak-!

To his surprise, the door wasn\'t locked.

Why isn\'t it locked?

He swallowed nervously, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, and stepped over the threshold.

Step-! Step-! Step-!

The sound of his sneakers echoed through the empty hallway, the only noise in the suffocating silence.

Inside the iron cages lining both sides, he saw the lifeless bodies of people he knew, hanging from the ceiling.

The killer had only targeted those he knew.

Just what kind of monster would do something like this?

The boy\'s face turned ashen, and his legs wobbled, barely able to carry him forward. But still, he forced himself to keep walking, one agonizing step at a time.

At the end of the hallway, he found a tightly closed iron door. His breath hitched as he reached out, hesitating before pushing it open.

This time, the door swung open easily.

Beyond the iron door was a room filled with a strange, unsettling atmosphere. The first thing that caught his eye was a brightly lit staircase.

The room itself was meticulously arranged, with ominous red paint covering the wide open space.

In the center of the room lay a lump of concrete—an old, rotten, bare structure with its skeleton exposed, like a piece of trash ripped from some forgotten ruin.

A red circle was drawn in the center of the concrete. The blood, still fresh and pungent, hadn’t dried yet.

It was a crude circle, but there was something about it that made the boy feel as though it might pull him in, devour him whole.

The boy stared at the circle, fear tightening its grip around his heart, until he tore his eyes away and began walking toward the stairs.

With each step, he clung to the fragile hope that this stairway would lead him out of this nightmare.

*******I’d been wandering around the boy’s house since morning, but between chatting on the phone and getting lost in thought, lunchtime snuck up on me before I even noticed.

When I finally came across what looked like a serious crime scene, I did the responsible thing and called the cops.

But their response was utterly ridiculous. They just told me it wasn’t their jurisdiction.

So, I dug a little deeper and found out there weren’t any police in this city.

Instead, there was some wannabe vigilante group that the police had handed their authority over to. They called themselves the ‘RS Self-Government Committee.’

I managed to get their contact info and gave them a call, but guess what? They didn’t even bother to show up.

There was some buzz online about how the \'Black Rust\' residential areas were always ignored, and it looked like that rumor was spot-on.

“Seriously? This is just stupid,” I grumbled, pulling out the ‘Gray Reaper Pudding’ I’d packed.

The Reaper, who’s got a sweet tooth, absolutely loves this stuff. It’s a bit pricey, sure, but it’s tasty enough to eat as a meal, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it too.

People keep saying pudding made from Objects is dangerous, but I haven’t seen any reports of it being a problem yet, so it’s probably fine, right?

Om nom nom-!

I scooped up some pudding with a spoon and held it out to the Reaper. It munched away with its tiny mouth, looking all pleased with itself.

Then I took a bite.

The Reaper took another bite, and I followed suit.

Before I knew it, we’d polished off the entire pudding I’d brought for lunch.

I patted the Reaper’s head with my fingers as it gave me a sad, pitiful look.

With no cops or vigilantes on the way, I figured I’d have to handle things myself.

So, I tiptoed into the boy’s house, trying to keep my steps quiet.

The place was way too big for a little kid to be living in alone, and the walls and furniture were covered in these eerie claw marks.

What the hell caused these?

Judging by the size of the marks, whatever made them had to be a massive monster—like, around two meters tall.

That’s... big.

If I had to guess, I’d say it was a wolf, with a shoulder height of two meters and a body length of four. Yeah, that sounds about right.

I pulled out my notebook and jotted down everything I’d figured out so far.

A monster that huge? Someone has to have seen it.

I kept wandering through the messy house, glancing at the Reaper in my palm now and then, but it wasn’t reacting at all.

The Reaper’s got a crazy sixth sense for evil Objects, but for this one? Nothing.

What was I supposed to do if the client went missing before I could even solve the case?

Sunbae never seemed to think things through, but somehow, he always solved cases in no time.

If he were here, he’d probably say something like…

I\'m not really sure, but the culprit\'s up north! Let’s start walking first!

I had no idea how he came up with that stuff. Did he just keep it a secret because it’s his genius detective skills?

Anyway, I searched the house as carefully as I could, but I came up empty.

Slap-! Slap-!

All of a sudden, the Reaper started smacking my palm.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

I looked down at the Reaper, who was now pointing a tiny finger at the ceiling.

When I looked up, I saw a square pattern up there.

Standing on a chair, I pressed on the ceiling, and a ladder clattered down.

I climbed up to the attic, and wow—this room was even more clawed up than the rest of the house.

There was something off about the place. Unlike the other rooms, which had at least some signs of life, this one felt... dead.

It was a complete disaster, too, with the only thing intact being an old desk.

On the desk, neat and tidy, was a notebook.

I opened it up, and what did I find? A journal filled with curses written in cursive aimed at just about everyone.

It was full of talk about killing people, cursing out family members who tormented the writer, and venting about the city’s owner who allowed discrimination against people with Black Rust.

There were especially a lot of curses aimed at some guy named \'RS,\' who apparently founded this city.

As I was reading through the journal, a sharp sound suddenly cut through the air.

Crack-!

Something slashed through the concrete wall, aiming straight for my neck, and it was so fast I didn’t even have time to react.

Thud-!

But before it could reach me, the Reaper leaped from my palm and intercepted the scythe-like blade.

"!"

I hit the floor in shock, while the Reaper glared fiercely at the desk in the attic.

Clang-!

The sharp blade, now cut off by the Reaper, fell to the ground with a chilling, making an eerie clang.

From beneath the desk, dark, ugly Objects started crawling out.

*******A lovely piano melody filled the containment room, all thanks to the Blue Lizard’s performance. It was a sight to behold, really.

And then, there was the Cute Puppy, standing on its hind legs, dancing with all its might to the music.

After hours of twirling around, the puppy was clearly exhausted. Its little legs were shaking, and its once-bright eyes had softened with weariness.

Just as I was starting to get a bit bored—yawn—I had a brilliant idea. I summoned my Golden Reapers, one in each hand, and motioned them to take over watching the Cute Puppy.

The job? Simple: make sure the puppy doesn’t bother any humans. And the pay? Just one pudding a day. Fair deal, don’t you think?

The Golden Reapers, who had never been too fond of the Cute Puppy because of its mischievous behavior, eagerly agreed. They practically jumped at the chance.

Once I handed over the job to them, I felt a sudden, intense wave of desperation.

It was so strong it almost knocked me off my feet. The Golden Reapers must have felt it too, their eyes widening in alarm as they looked around.

The source of this desperate will was none other than the delinquent Golden Reaper who had left home. The urgency was palpable, so I knew I had to act fast.

I left the Cute Puppy in the capable (or at least willing) hands of the Golden Reapers and blinked away with the black penguin’s ability, off to see what all the fuss was about.

*******Hah… hah…

I took a deep breath, glancing around. Everywhere I looked, it was just a swarm of those creepy four-legged spider Objects, all brandishing their wickedly sharp scythes.

My whole body was sore from all the cuts I’d taken. The Reaper was strong, but there were just too many of these guys.

Whenever the Reaper tried to dive in and take them out, those nasty Objects would immediately shift their focus to me.

So, the Reaper had to protect me, which left me barely able to move.

Sorry, Reaper…

It’s my fault you can’t cut loose and do your thing.

Then, out of nowhere, the Reaper opened its mouth like it was about to shout or something.

At the same time, its Golden Horns lit up, making the whole place shake. I could feel this weird power stretching all around the room.

A gray light started to seep in, as if it was eating away at reality itself. And there, smack in the middle of this surreal mess, was the Gray Reaper.

As soon as the Gray Reaper appeared, everything else just… stopped. The Objects froze in place, and the air felt so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

In the eerie silence of the attic, the Gray Reaper surveyed the scene with an indifferent look, picking up the mine Reaper like it was some sort of quirky artifact.

Press-! Press-!

The Gray Reaper poked at the Golden Reaper’s horn with a curious expression. It kept squishing it down and letting it bounce back up.

A faint, almost playful smile appeared on the Gray Reaper’s lips, and with that, the oppressive atmosphere vanished.

Meanwhile, the Objects rushed toward the Gray Reaper and made frantic attacks.

Then, as if it was annoyed by all the commotion, the Gray Reaper casually raised a hand and made a fist.

Clench-!

With that one simple move, the whole attic seemed to collapse. The Objects turned into a black, mushy mess.

It was so effortless and dismissive that it almost made me feel bad for all the trouble I’d gone through just trying to dodge those scythes.