Rain hammered the concrete, the sound devouring the narrow alley.
Qing, the silver-haired girl, sprinted, lungs burning, eyes locked on her companions’ retreating figures. They were transporting vital cargo for a client. The destination: a lawless zone deep within the Free City Alliance, untouched by the ruling families.
Normally, they’d use a vehicle. Not this time. The paths were too narrow, too twisted.
Running with the mask—already difficult to breathe through normally—was harder than Qing had imagined. The rain added to her misery.
I feel like I’m going to die.
Through a hazy exhaustion, the scene ahead felt strangely distant. The shape of the rain lashing the ground. The blurred backs of her companions, burdened by heavy bags.
The rain itself felt icy, clinging, wrong.
She used to like the rain. The smell of earth, the unique atmosphere. But not this rain. Not in this city.
It was cold, oily, unnatural. Less water, more like coolant for the city’s monstrous machinery.
The rain was toxic to pure humans, naturally. Qing wore heavy-duty waterproof gear. Necessary, but the weight crushed her small frame.
Her breaths rasped harshly through the thick filter mask.
“Just past this block, we’re there,” the man leading the group called back, his voice cutting through her fatigue.
“You okay?” the woman running beside her asked, concern in her voice.
Could Qing still do her part? Open the security wall?
The walls were relics from before the cities unified, built tough. Many still stood. Going around was possible, but going through was much faster.
“I can do it,” Qing forced out, despite the struggle for breath.
Suddenly, the lead man shouted, raising his shield.
He planted two large shields like a makeshift wall, hefting a heavy weapon in his other hands, scanning the surroundings.
Red lights, like afterimages, streaked through the dark alley.
“Damn it! Scavengers.”
Hyenas of the lawless zone, hunting in packs. They began to circle, drawn like sharks to blood.
In the always warm and peaceful containment room of Sehee Research Institute.
I was lounging on the bed, playing with a Golden Reaper.
It stood on my stomach. I tapped my fingers like playing piano; it responded with boxing jabs.
Dodging my fingers, punching towards them. Its stance was surprisingly good. Like a little boxer.
Golden Reapers are all athletic.
As I played, something interesting came on the TV.
[According to the Korean Object Association, evidence suggests a significant amount of ‘Golden Horns’ have been smuggled into China.]
[It’s believed these Golden Horns have flowed into the ‘Free City Alliance’, a known lawless zone within China.]
[This area is beyond the control of Chinese authorities and is notoriously used as a haven for criminals. Tracking the culprits is expected to be difficult.]
[The Korean Object Association is cooperating closely with its Chinese counterpart to pursue the perpetrators, but there has been no significant progress yet.]
It was a famous place, but I’d never been there.
China handled its Object situation well, comparable to the US or Japan, but I’d heard the Free City Alliance was a different beast entirely—a den of monsters.
Lost in thought, I noticed the Golden Reaper looking glum, trying to lift my finger.
Too weak to lift it properly, but still trying, wanting to play.
Alright. Okay, let’s play a little more.
I started moving my fingers again. The boxing Golden Reaper resumed its punches, face bright with excitement.
Mini Reaper Garden, Marshmallow Plains.
After playing extensively with the Golden Reapers, I walked through the mini Reaper garden.
The sight of numerous Golden Reapers running on four legs and Orange Reapers floating like clouds strangely evoked the feeling of the African savanna.
Watching the Orange Reapers flying leisurely, a thought struck me.
Come to think of it, it’s been a long time since I pranked the Orange Reapers.
I hadn’t pranked them since setting them on fire with the Red Reaper doll outfit.
Besides, the Orange Reapers were kind; they didn’t retaliate even when I pranked them. Such gentle children.
I began devising a prank just for them.
And the Golden Reapers’ ice palace.
My brilliant brain connected these two and came up with an amusing prank.
Ask the Orange Reapers to destroy the ice palace together. Then, sneak away and tattle to the Golden Reapers.
With a mischievous smile, I started gathering the Orange Reapers.
The situation was desperate.
Why had so many Scavengers converged on them? It was impossible to understand.
Their firepower—just three people—was hopelessly outmatched.
The cargo? A few medical supplies and ammo? This kind of attack didn’t make sense for such meager loot.
No matter how Qing racked her brain, the situation remained incomprehensible.
Qing drew her small pistol, trying desperately to return fire, but aiming was difficult in the rain and darkness.
Even if she hit, it would be useless against Scavengers who replaced their skin with steel-hard Objects.
“There are too many!”
The woman with the long rifle cried out in despair.
Her accurate shots took down enemies one by one, but the number of Scavengers swarming through the alleys seemed endless.
The man wielding two shields and two heavy weapons with his four monstrous arms was already injured.
One arm hung limp, pierced through. He’d lost grip on one of his guns.
He fought back fiercely, but his skill wasn’t enough to guarantee hits through the darkness and rain.
Just then, a bright flame arced through the darkness, trailing a long tail. A sharp whistle—
—accompanied the homemade grenade flying towards them.
“Damn it! Watch out!”
The man screamed desperately.
Suppressive fire to pin them down, followed by a grenade.
Instantly, the man and woman threw themselves over Qing. A powerful explosion shook the earth.
Qing lost consciousness for a moment. She slowly came to amidst swirling dust and dirt.
So dizzy… I feel sick.
Her condition was relatively stable, but nauseating.
The man, clearly critically wounded, coughed up blood. The woman was already unconscious, shielding Qing with her body, eyes closed, utterly still.
The Scavengers’ footsteps drew closer. Hearing their careless approach, Qing gritted her teeth.
She grabbed the spare shotgun from the man’s backpack and aimed towards the footsteps.
She probably couldn’t even fire it properly. Without Object-level strength, she couldn’t lift it correctly, couldn’t handle the recoil.
The moment she fired, her shoulder would likely shatter, and she’d drop the gun.
But she couldn’t give up. She had to make a last stand.
Qing exhaled slowly, gripping the shotgun tightly.
As the dust began to settle, she saw something strange in the corner of her vision—a white, fluffy bundle.
Seeing the cloud-like white fur, she felt a strange sense of calm wash over her as she pulled the trigger.
With a deafening roar like a bomb exploding, the shotgun flew into the air. Miraculously, Qing’s shoulder was fine.
Proof she hadn’t braced correctly. Proof the crucial first shot must have missed.
But from that moment, an unbelievable miracle began.
The scattered buckshot accurately pierced the vitals of the Scavengers.
And the strange events continued. The shotgun Qing dropped seemed broken; the impact of hitting the ground caused it to fire again, flying through the air.
The resulting shot dealt another critical blow to the Scavengers.
It could have been coincidence, but happening consecutively felt wrong.
An impossible scene unfolded before Qing’s eyes.
Utterly bewildered, she could only watch blankly as the shotgun, seemingly flying on its own due to recoil, killed all the Scavengers.