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The quiet and peaceful backyard of the Sehee Research Institute, bathed in warm midday sunlight, looked like it had been plucked straight from a well-painted picture. It was so pretty!

There was just something about the shabby, laid-back vibe of Sehee that I loved. It didn’t feel like a place where you had to be serious and smart. No, no, no—it was more like a little hideaway where you could just come to play and have fun, not at all like the suffocating, buttoned-up James Lab. Yuck.

A gentle breeze blew through, making the leaves rustle in such a lovely way that it sounded like nature had decided to put on a little concert just for me. Plus, the faint fragrance of flowers floated along with the wind, tickling my nose and making the backyard smell like springtime.

Om nom nom!

I stared up at the sky, munching on the snacks Yerin fed me (seriously, she’s the best), and I saw Cloud Fish swimming in the vast blue canvas above. They were so graceful, floating around like delicate little clouds shaped into fish—like, really, the name says it all. They moved in cute little waves, all together, and for a second, I felt like I was underwater, staring up at the surface. So dreamy!

I always got a bit jealous of those Cloud Fish, flying so freely up there. They almost never come down to visit, so I’ve never had a proper look at them up close. I kinda wanted to catch one. Maybe sneakily… and maybe, you know… nibble on it? Hehe. Just a tiny bite!

Imagine if I ate one and suddenly gained the ability to fly! That’d be so cool. As for the Cloud Fish, well… I’m sure losing one wouldn’t be too bad for them. I mean, with so many of them, it’s probably tough for them to find jobs anyway.

Just as I was lost in thought about flying fish (yum), the Black Reaper, who had been eyeing Yerin with obvious jealousy, scooted over to me, grabbed a potato chip, and shoved it straight into my mouth. Crunchy!

The sound of the chip crunching in my mouth echoed as the Black Reaper gave me a toothy grin, flashing its sharp little teeth like it was proud of itself. It was so cute, I almost forgot I was supposed to be the strong one here.

While I absentmindedly kept munching on snacks, split between Yerin and the Black Reaper, Yerin suddenly piped up, like she’d just remembered something important.

“Oh, by the way, I ran into James’s secretary at the hospital. She’s in a bit of a tight spot right now.”

Huh? A tight spot? My ears perked up. Was something wrong?

Yerin, always ahead of my thoughts, continued. “Turns out, she didn’t have any entry or exit records from either the U.S. or South Korea when she showed up out of the blue, so they’re treating her like an illegal immigrant. She might be stuck here a bit longer than planned.”

She popped a juicy slice of apple into my mouth as she told me all this, and I happily chomped down on it, savoring the sweetness.

“Oh, and since Secretary Unnie’s stuck and can’t tell you herself, she asked me to pass on a message: ‘Thank you for saving me.’”

Right after saying that, Yerin leaned in close and grabbed my cheeks, staring right into my eyes.

“And thank you for saving me, too!”

Her eyes were so full of gratitude that I had no idea what to do with myself. Ugh, so much emotion! It was too much!

So, I did the only thing I could think of—I shut my eyes tight and pretended to be asleep. Maybe if I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t feel so squirmy.

***Late in the afternoon, I sat inside the so-called “quiet” deputy director’s office at the Sehee Research Institute, diligently working on paperwork. Or at least, trying to. From the outside, the room probably looked peaceful, but from my perspective? Oh, it was anything but quiet.

Giggle!

That sound. Every. Single. Time. It was the bud, perched smugly on top of my monitor, laughing at me every time I made a mistake. Which, okay, maybe was more often than I’d like to admit, but still.

“It’s finally finished!” I declared, triumphant. Take that, paperwork!

The bud, in all its annoying, mischievous glory, stood up and clapped. It always had this impish grin on its face like it knew something I didn’t, but somehow, at moments like this, it almost looked… proud? Of me? I’m probably reading too much into it, but it felt nice.

I scooped the little troublemaker up from the monitor, placing it on my palm, and immediately began squishing its chubby cheeks. They were just like sticky rice cakes—super satisfying to knead after a long, mentally draining session of paperwork.

The bud closed its eyes and leaned into it, like it was saying, “Yes, yes, continue. You may knead to your heart’s content.”

Honestly, such a brat.

It was nothing like the bright and sweet Golden Reaper. But then again, if you compared all the mini reapers to their original form—the Gray Reaper, who lives for pranks—this Bud Reaper was probably the truest version.

Still, for all its cheekiness, it had a charm I just couldn’t hate. It never pushed me so far that I’d actually get mad. And oddly enough, I felt like I worked better when it was around. Maybe it was motivating me with all the teasing?

The only issue? No one else could see the bud. So when I played with it in public, people around me would stare like I’d lost my mind. Which is why, these days, I reserved our little playtime for when I was alone in my private office. Better for everyone, really.

It was kind of nice, though, knowing the bud was just for me. It only hung out with me, looked at me, played with me… but sometimes, I wondered if it was all in my head. What if it was just a projection of something I wanted to see? Ugh, too deep.

Still, I couldn’t let that stop me from recording my latest findings. There was always more to learn, and I wasn’t about to pass up a chance to study the little rascal. I opened my notebook, and the bud, curious as ever, plopped down nearby to watch me scribble.

TITLE

< unlike="" other="" mini="" reapers,="" it="" has="" two="" colors:="" gold="" and="" blue.="">

< does="" that="" mean="" anything?="">

< sometimes,="" i="" see="" a="" blue="" tree="" and="" a="" golden="" tree="" behind="" the="" bud.="" could="" they="" be="" related?="">

< ever="" since="" i="" ate="" that="" fruit,="" i’ve="" been="" able="" to="" see="" and="" interact="" with="" the="" bud="" reaper.="">

< is="" the="" fruit="" a="" hallucinogen?="" or="" does="" it="" allow="" me="" to="" see="" the="" spirit="" of="" the="" bud="" reaper?="">

< if="" we="" had="" a="" spirit="" camera,="" maybe="" i="" could="" prove="" it,="" but="" we="" don’t.="" typical.="">

< after="" eating="" the="" fruit,="" i’ve="" felt="" less="" tired,="" and="" my="" sleep="" quality="" has="" improved.="" need="" to="" run="" more="" tests="" to="" confirm.="">

I closed the notebook with a little snap and looked down at the bud, still sitting in my palm, blinking up at me with those shiny, intelligent eyes. I started chatting with it about this and that—random thoughts, theories, ideas. You know, the usual.

If the Golden Reaper had the eyes of an innocent child, the bud’s eyes were sharp, curious, and almost… wise? It felt like we were really having a conversation, even though, of course, it never said a word.

***A small village near the Rocky Mountains, normally quiet and peaceful, was unusually busy today. People walked back and forth, casting curious glances at the group of association members roaming around, all of them wearing the Object Association’s mark.

The boys, who were playing basketball in front of their houses, immediately noticed the change in the village’s atmosphere.

“Hey, bro, do you know what’s going on?” one of them asked, spinning the ball on his finger like he wasn’t too worried.

“Dunno,” the other shrugged. “But if it was something dangerous, they’d tell us to evacuate, right?”

They both watched as some of the association members fiddled with strange-looking equipment while others handed out flyers to the passing villagers. One of the members, spotting the boys with their basketballs tucked under their arms, walked over to them with a friendly smile.

“Hey there! Just a heads-up—there’s a dangerous Object around,” he said, handing them a flyer. “If you spot it, make sure to call the number on this flyer right away.”

The boys, looking all of ten or eleven, took the flyer but didn’t seem particularly concerned. “What’s going on?” one of them asked, scanning the paper like it was just another boring piece of homework.

“A dangerous Object appeared nearby,” the man explained, trying to sound casual. “We’re tracking it down, but it’s really important you don’t go near it. Just let us know if you see anything, okay?”

One of the boys squinted, looking a bit skeptical. He tilted his head as if something didn’t add up. “If it’s that dangerous, shouldn’t you guys be telling everyone to evacuate?”

The man hesitated, clearly not expecting a kid to poke holes in his explanation. “Well… it’s dangerous, yeah, but it’s not life-threatening to people. Plus, the Object’s too fast for an evacuation to really work.”

The boy didn’t seem entirely convinced, but before he could ask any more questions, the man waved his hand, like he had more pressing matters to attend to, and hurried off.

Left with only the flyers in their hands, the boys glanced at each other. “What’s so dangerous about it, anyway?” one muttered, crumpling the paper with a frustrated sigh.

Inside the crumpled flyer was a picture, a phone number, and a bright warning message.

< special="" mental="" corruption="" object="" warning!="">

< do="" not="" approach="" within="" a="" 10-meter="" radius.="">

< if="" seen,="" contact="" the="" number="" below="" immediately.="">

The boy tossed the crumpled flyer aside, kicking it across the street. “The ‘Golden Reaper’ is just cute,” he huffed.

As the wind caught the flyer, sending it fluttering down the road, a picture of the ‘Golden Reaper’—smiling brightly—could be seen on the front, looking anything but dangerous.

***Under the guidance of the director of the Trinity 1st Research Institute, the Deputy Director was about to witness something truly extraordinary—resurrection.

As the human corpse was immersed in the ‘evolution fluid,’ its cells began to stir back to life, an unsettling spectacle that only human remains exhibited. The surrounding atmosphere crackled with a blend of excitement and dread.

“This is truly incredible,” the Deputy Director whispered, awe mingling with a sense of foreboding.

The monitor displayed a lifeless figure, a victim of a traffic accident, slowly reanimating within the fluid’s depths.

“Yes, incredible,” the Director echoed, his voice a low murmur laced with something darker. “It is absolutely magnificent.”

But the following video painted a different picture, revealing a litany of grotesque problems.

< five="" out="" of="" ten="" corpses="" fail="" to="" resurrect="" and="" simply="" dissolve.="">

< resurrected="" individuals="" exhibit="" extreme="" aggression.="">

< intelligence="" levels="" in="" resurrected="" beings="" are="" severely="" diminished.="">

< they="" harbor="" an="" inexplicable="" hatred="" for="" all="" humanity.="">

< bizarre="" and="" irreversible="" physical="" mutations="" are="" present.="">

The Deputy Director’s expression twisted in confusion and horror. “This is shocking. How can the director of the 3rd Research Institute be so reckless? Administering this liquid without addressing these side effects—he must be mad!”

The Director of the 1st Research Institute presented an ancient, worn notebook, a treasure trove of twisted knowledge.

“The formulation of the evolution fluid is rife with issues. It requires a plethora of obscure materials and incomprehensible rituals.”

The Deputy Director’s eyes widened as he skimmed the pages, each entry more bizarre than the last.

“Is this even real?” he stammered.

The notebook was filled with peculiar instructions:

< boil="" the="" hind="" legs="" of="" a="" frog,="" dried="" for="" three="" days,="" with="" \'baby="" head="" flower\'="" in="" a="" pot="" under="" the="" full="" moon.="">

“Mass production is impossible with such lunacy,” the Deputy Director said, incredulous. “The yield is horrendously low. And why in the world are ‘humans’ included among the ingredients?”

The Director chuckled, a sound void of warmth. “Then we must devise a more modern method. It will take time.”

A sigh escaped the Deputy Director, grappling with the absurdity of what resembled witchcraft more than science.

“Fortunately, the director of the 3rd Research Institute left behind a method for mass production,” the Director added, his smile dark and knowing as he handed over another notebook.

The Deputy Director leafed through the pages, revealing the ramblings of a deranged mind—disjointed but intriguing tales, riddled with hints about the Objects necessary for mass production.

The words jumped out at him: Objects like the blue moon were essential. And the Gray Reaper was a formidable obstacle.

Eventually, the Deputy Director snapped the diary shut. “With the Blue Moon and the Red Moon depleted, we should wait for another celestial event or experiment with alternative Objects.”

But the Director, eyes glinting with madness, interrupted. “Why wait? We already have a Moon Object within our reach.”

“Are you referring to the Snowfield Moon? The diary states it’s no longer viable.”

“No, I’m not talking about the purple moon” the Director countered, shaking his head with an unsettling calm.

He spread out a map, pointing decisively.

“Here. A hidden moon unknown to the world. If we act swiftly, we can seize it without interference from the Gray Reaper or anyone else.”

His finger hovered over a remote village nestled deep within Odae Mountain, an innocuous location masking the promise of power.

“Imagine it,” the Director hissed, fervor igniting in his eyes. “We will become unstoppable.”

The Deputy Director’s heart raced, not with excitement but with the thrill of impending doom, for in that moment, he understood the depths of their ambitions—nothing would stand in their way, not even their own humanity.

***As the sun started sinking down, its light turned everything all soft and glowy. The air got a little chilly, and I knew what that meant—time to head back to the containment room! Normally, Yerin would have dragged me along by now, but she’d disappeared to “take care of her work.” Pff, boring.

The sky was a big splash of red, like someone spilled a bucket of paint across it, and oh, there were so many cloud fish swimming in it! They were glowing all red too, soaking up the sunset. I’d never seen this many before. It was like a little festival just for me!

I got up from my comfy spot, stretching my arms toward the fish-filled sky, and then I caught a snippet of news about Songpa-gu on TV.

[ Cloud Fish, usually known as harmless Objects, have been spotted in schools flying over Songpa-gu. ]

They even had a video of the Cloud Fishes! A helicopter was filming them, and right there in the middle of the fish was a giant cloud whale, just floating along like it owned the place.

I glanced up at the sky again—yep, the cloud fish were still swimming up there, glowing red like they’d taken a dip in a pool of strawberry syrup. So pretty.