Seoul Object Story

Yellow Detective POV:

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A space that felt both familiar and unfamiliar.

I was standing in the middle of such a strange dream.

It gave me a nostalgic feeling as if a scene from an old memory was unfolding, yet it was an unfamiliar dream that wasn't in my memory at all.

A few steps ahead of me, I could see the distinct back view of a man.

A man wearing the same yellow suit as me.

His face was hidden, but there was a strange familiarity, a resonance that seemed to pull at the fringes of faded memories.

The curve of his shoulders, the rhythm of his steps, everything seemed to be quietly and persistently gesturing for me to recognize him.

With each step I took, a strange weight held back my footsteps.

Fragments of an old memory I didn't know were weighing down my steps.

With each step forward, an entirely unfamiliar scene unfolded.

"Junior, if you rely only on your intuition like that, you'll get into big trouble."

I heard the voice of an unknown man.

Not in my memory.

Another step forward revealed yet another scene.

"From now on... you."

A bloody man handed something over to me.

This too, not in my memory.

No matter how far I ran, the distance between me and the man walking slowly with light steps didn't seem to close.

In the final moment, as that man glanced back at me,

His head began to be covered in a reddish smoke, like Watson.

At that very moment.

When he was about to say something.

I woke up from the dream.

***

??? POV:

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The night city was covered in a deep darkness like a black opal.

In the quiet night when the city noise died down, a red light seeped out from the window of a dilapidated building.

The crimson glow of a gas lamp on a wooden desk swayed and danced gently, bathing the interior of the detective's office in a ruby hue.

On such a quiet night, the red flames in Watson suddenly flared up with a whoosh.

[Is Holmes asleep?]

[Yeah, asleep.]

[Holmes seems strange.]

[It's probably nothing?]

The smoke seeping out of Watson filled the office, and shadows rippled abundantly above it.

[When's the next request?]

[But Holmes seems strange now.]

[Scary!]

[Is it the 'eyes'?]

[But we don't need to run away, right?]

[It's not certain yet.]

[Is Holmes strange?]

[Will there be a Junior #3 too?]

The chaotic murmuring of Watson's collective monologue suddenly stopped at one point.

All the shadows started staring intently at one spot.

[Holmes is strange!]

[Holmes is strange!]

[Holmes is strange!]

The smoke billowing out from the gas lamp flowed down the table, squeezed through the door crack and started seeping out.

The smoke climbed up the stairs and walls.

The smoke that kept ascending the stairs of the old building began seeping into a certain place when it arrived at its intended location.

A room where faint starlight shone through the half-lowered blinds.

Smoke began wafting out through the tightly closed door crack.

The old clothes hanger and the yellow trench coat hanging on it, illuminated by the dim light of the blinds, were also engulfed by the smoke, their traces no longer visible.

The documents and case files on the old desk were swallowed by the smoke, and the ashtray and half-empty whiskey bottle on the side of the desk also disappeared into the smoke.

The only thing protruding like an island from the sea of impenetrable smoke was an old leather sofa with slightly sunken cushions.

On that sofa lay a yellow detective in a suit, asleep.

It seemed he fell asleep as soon as he returned, out of exhaustion.

The smoke surrounded the detective as if looking down on him.

[Did Holmes remember?]

[Holmes should keep forgetting?]

[Why can he remember?]

The smoke billowing out from the gas lamp examined the area around the detective, and discovered a sphere intermittently emitting light.

[We can't let him pick up this Object!]

[We have to destroy it.]

[When did he get this Object?]

[While we were asleep!]

The sphere placed on the side table was shooting light towards the sleeping detective's head, and whenever the light shone down, the detective seemed to contort in pain.

The reddish smoke engulfed the sphere in its palm and crushed it.

[Holmes. Forever together!]

***

??? POV:

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<Golden Reaper Preliminary Experiment>

<Golden Reaper floats above a magnet>

We will rely solely on your kindness! Click here!

Donate now

<Given that it shares characteristics with the original, it is expected that Gray Reaper will also float above a magnet>

<Cute> I wrote the last line but then crossed it out with a pen stroke.

I can't write impressions like that in a report, no.

I observed the Golden Reaper cheerfully floating above the magnet in the silent assistant director's office.

I tapped the Golden Reaper with my finger.

Tap tap.

No matter what I did, the ever-happy Golden Reaper just smiled back at me.

Due to concerns about mental contamination, I decided to secretly move the Golden Reaper from the lounge to the deputy director's office for safekeeping.

Fortunately, since the Golden Reaper has the characteristic of disappearing quickly, no one found it suspicious that it disappeared.

It would have been annoying if there were employees who thought it was strange, but fortunately there didn't seem to be any.

It was an inevitable decision to protect the mental health of the researchers and to observe the Golden Reaper more closely.

Looking at the clock, it was already 12 o'clock.

Time to feed the Golden Reaper.

"Reaper! Let's eat."

I took out a pudding from the fridge, and the Reaper jumped onto my palm, nibbling it in small bites like a small animal.

Nom nom nom~

Watching the Reaper eat, a thought occurred to me.

"I wonder how cute it would be if Reaper could make sounds?"

I wanted to hear the Reaper's cries.

That's what I thought.

Hmm, I cleared my throat and opened my notebook again to start observing.

I have no personal motives, I just need to do my job.

***

Reaper (MC) POV:

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Watching TV cradled in Yerin's arms.

On the table in front of the TV were all kinds of puddings lined up by type.

"These are all the pudding varieties available in Seoul! Isn't it amazing?"

With Yerin hugging me from behind, our cheeks touching, she explained about the puddings.

Mostly about where they were sold and what their characteristics were.

Nom nom nom~

I tasted each pudding one by one, slowly and methodically.

Puddings are still delicious.

But this wasn't the taste of the pudding from the camp!

I shook my head sadly side to side.

"Oh! This batch didn't work either? Should I get ones that are only sold in rural areas then?"

Yerin hugged me tight and grumbled, "You've become too picky lately."

I felt bad for Yerin going through the trouble of getting puddings, but I really wanted to know what the pudding the ninja brought was.

"You picky pig Reaper!"

Yerin pinched my cheeks as she vented.

"Oh, that's right. Ta-da! I got this. It wasn't as hard to find as I thought."

Yerin took out a photo from her arms and showed it to me.

The photo showed an exotic landscape against a backdrop of black mud.

And in the center of the photo, a jet-black penguin was dancing merrily.

Dum-chit dum-chit.

T/N: What...?

Though the lively dance moves made no sound, it made one feel the rhythm and beat instinctively.

It was even more amusing to see the penguin dancing with its short arms and legs.

"Ah, but I heard they were selling this at the 'Daily Object'. Seems their business isn't doing well lately, so they're even selling photos like this to make money.... Even though they're not a Research Institute, is it okay for them to do business with Objects?"

Yerin added that carelessly handling such Objects could lead to big trouble. But it lacked persuasion coming from Yerin, who treated them most carelessly herself.

***

Junior 1 POV:

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At the detective agency in the morning.

As usual, the detective agency was filled with the faint aroma of coffee and the loud sounds of the TV.

A death seemingly caused by an unidentified wild animal.

Suspicions that the new drug circulating in Seoul lately is linked to Objects.

Seoul had many cases again this morning.

The senior was sighing while sipping the dark roasted coffee, with the TV sounds as background music.

Senior's eyes looked swollen? He seemed extremely tired.

"Senior, why do you look so exhausted?"

"I don't know. I'm strangely fatigued. Maybe it's because of this..."

Where the senior pointed with his finger, there was a split Object in two pieces.

"When I woke up, it was smashed. Maybe it was an Object with a usage limit or time limit. It makes sense for a healing ability to have such restrictions."

"Well, what's gone is gone. So senior! What about the next request?"

"I don't know. Feels like I've been working too hard lately..."

Senior leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling as he spoke.

"Let's take some simple requests to earn some money first. Once I feel sufficiently rested, I'll take an Object case again."

"Finding evidence of an affair? Is it okay for a detective to do that?"

"That's originally what detectives do. You seem to expect too much from me because of Watson. I'm not Sherlock."

The gas lamp flickered violently, as if objecting to the senior's words.