Chapter 146: The Burning Drug (5)

Inside the gloomy security room of Sehee Research Institute—sealed off from the outside world for security reasons and filled with screens displaying countless surveillance feeds—the staff were fixated on a single monitor.

“Eiiiiii, no way a kid who sleeps that quietly would pull something like that. You’re messing with me because I didn’t see it, aren’t you?”

“You don’t believe your sunbae? I’m telling you, it’s true.”

The screen zoomed in, revealing the sleeping figure of the Bud Reaper with its blue skin, resting peacefully like a serene little angel.

“You’re saying that kid, with that sweet face, provoked you through the camera?”

“I swear it happened! Why would I lie about something so ridiculous?”

The senior security staff seemed to remember something and brought up the saved footage on the screen and said.

“Come to think of it, I don’t need to convince you. Just watch the footage yourself...”

But no matter how much he rewound and replayed the video, nothing unusual showed up—just the Bud Reaper snoozing soundly.

“Seriously... So many odd things happen around these Objects. Did I just imagine it?”

“As expected, this Bud Reaper seems like a harmless, well-behaved kid too,” the junior said with a smile, getting up and heading towards a stash of cup noodles hidden in the corner of the security room.

“I’m starving. Want some ramen too, senior?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As she prepared two cups of instant noodles, the junior continued, “You know, Blue Reapers have been acting a bit different lately. Friendlier, you could say.”

“Really? I wouldn’t know. I don’t interact with the Blue Reapers much.”

“They’ve definitely changed. It’s not just me. Some folks say they’ve seen them peel apples and stuff at home.”

The junior returned, carrying two steaming cups of ramen. Handing one over, the senior grumbled, “Ah, that familiar cup noodle smell. The institute’s raking in cash these days, but here we are, still eating this cheap stuff.”

The two ate and chatted idly about various things—the Bud Reaper gifting chocolates, rumors of a giant statue of the Gray Reaper made of gold hidden in the institute’s basement.

It was all unproductive banter, really.

“I’ll take out the trash,” the junior said, gathering up the empty cups and tossing them into a plastic bag before heading out.

Left alone, the senior leaned back in his chair, feeling drowsy as the lingering smell of ramen filled the room. He propped his chin on his hand, staring absentmindedly at the CCTV footage, just waiting for his shift to end. Ṛ

Then, something changed on the screen showing the Bud Reaper. The creature’s eyes, barely half-open, suddenly met his.

“What the—!”

Startled, the senior shot up from his chair just in time to see the sprout’s eyes widen with a mischievous glint.

Bleh-!

It stuck its tongue out at him.

I wasn’t imagining it!

Just then, the door swung open, and the junior walked back in.

“Senior? What’s going on?”

But by the time the junior returned, the Bud Reaper’s playful expression was gone, replaced once more by the innocent look of a child lost in sleep.

*********From my perch high above, I looked down at the world below—a vast, endless sea of black slime that stretched all the way to the horizon. Its shiny, gooey surface rippled slowly, like the gentle rise and fall of a sleeping monster’s chest.

Mom won!

The Golden Reaper grinned, bright and cheerful, and waited eagerly for the Gray Reaper to come back from inside the melting pig statue.

But instead of a triumphant mom, what stumbled out was a Gray Reaper who looked... wrong.

The Gray Reaper’s body—so strong and proud just moments ago—sagged lifelessly, collapsing into the softening steel, then rolling to the ground in a heap.

“!?”

Startled, the Golden Reaper dashed over, a worried little frown creasing its face. The Gray Reaper was lying there, eyes shut tight, not moving even a teensy bit.

Slap-! Slap-!

Tiny hands patted the Gray Reaper’s cheeks, soft but insistent, but got no response at all. She wasn’t asleep, either. This was just a hollow shell of the Gray Reaper, almost like a sad, empty puppet.

Mom’s not here...

The Golden Reaper stared down at the Gray Reaper, its cute little face scrunching up in confusion. But it wasn’t super worried—after all, Mom was invincible! She was the Creator, the mighty Gray Reaper.

She wouldn’t just disappear like that, right? It was just...taking a little long for her to come back, that’s all!

But then...fire started sparking from Mom’s body, and suddenly, that little worry started to grow. Flames flickered, and with them, something strange and scary happened.

The firewood, all that warm light that made Mom, well, Mom, began to flicker and vanish. It was being sucked away, faster than the blink of an eye. The Gray Reaper’s glowing form dimmed in an instant, turning dull and brittle.

Soon, her skin looked dry, like cracked mud, and when the Golden Reaper tried to lift her up, the Gray Reaper’s body crumbled, bits of it scattering like sand.

Mom!

The Gray Reaper was in trouble. Big, big trouble.

Mom is in danger!

Panic bubbling in its chest, the Golden Reaper called out to all its friends, crying desperately for help. Without hesitating, it funneled all its firewood, its very essence, into the Gray Reaper.

Mom...

Through teary, blurry eyes, the Golden Reaper saw the other Golden Reapers rushing over, all of them silent but determined.

One by one, they touched the Gray Reaper’s lifeless form, giving her every last flicker of their firewood—everything they had.

As they did, their light dimmed, and they fell softly to the ground, one after another.

Mom, come back quickly...

Even as they lay there, drained and flickering faintly, the little Golden Reapers’ wishes, their soft and tiny voices, shimmered and flowed like gentle whispers through the last of their firewood.

*********Deep into the night, a sinister curtain of light descended over the research complex near the Rocky Mountains. It was a red curtain, bleeding across the horizon. From the far western edge to the opposite end, everything was ablaze.

The towering barrier that once guarded the Rocky Mountains—the spirit barrier that protected America—was engulfed in flames.

Smoke rose thick and heavy, smothering the sky in a shroud of darkness. And within that swirling smoke, a monstrous shadow loomed—a colossal pig, its vast form draping over the mountain range as it stared down at the fragile human world below.

The alarms sounded, all too late.

The Rocky Mountain Spirit Barrier Management Center—the heart that controlled the barrier and the entity imprisoned within, known as ‘The Abyssal Vortex’—had finally declared an emergency.