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The sky over the city Frost, surrounded by snowfields, was clear and blue once again today.

A massive pinwheel, towering in the heart of the city, slowly rotated, reflecting a kaleidoscope of colors.

The old man, who had been the chairperson, stood by his window, gazing at the scene and exhaling deeply.

“I was just barely surviving…”

There was a weight of time and memories in his voice.

As he closed his eyes, the past vividly came to mind.

The steam tower, glowing cherry-red and spewing black smoke.

The streets filled with acrid air.

And the steam tower square, accessible only to special individuals.

Frost had once been a city fighting for survival.

During the Object Crisis, when trade with the outside world had ceased, many had perished battling the harsh cold.

The old man remembered the nights he had spent awake fretting over the future of the city as its chairperson.

But now, when he opened his eyes, the view was entirely different.

Where the steam tower once stood, a giant pinwheel now loomed, and the once desolate square was filled with the sound of laughter.

The steam tower, once belching black smoke, had transformed into a black pinwheel.

And the black pinwheel had become a colorful one.

The series of changes felt like a testament to the city’s rapid transformation.

The old man slowly opened the window.

A cold breeze brushed against his face, soon followed by a warm aura that enveloped him.

It was warmth generated by the jelly pigs appearing from the pinwheel.

Jelly pigs of various colors scattered throughout the plaza constantly emitted warmth.

Thanks to this, people could comfortably enjoy outings even in sub-zero weather.

The old man’s gaze landed on the blue sky beyond the window.

The sky, once filled with smoke, was now clear and pristine.

There was no longer any need to burn blue coal and oil thanks to the warmth provided by the jelly pigs.

Clunk. Clunk.

As he lowered his gaze to the sound of wooden wheels clattering against the stone floor, he saw a large jelly pig transporting various supplies from outside.

Despite the mysterious object phenomenon still causing internal combustion engines to malfunction nearby, with jelly pigs around, it seemed fine.

The isolated city of Frost was now a thing of the past.

“I can see such a sight before I die.”

The old man choked on his emotions.

His hometown, once buried in snow due to the Object Crisis, now spoke of hope as the city of Frost rose tall above the snowfield.

Clatter. Clatter.

At that moment, drawn by a sound from behind, the old man turned his head.

He caught sight of the Golden Reaper, startled as he was dumping a whole bunch of sugar cubes into the old man’s bitter coffee.

“Ah!”

The Golden Reaper had a surprised expression, mouth wide open.

He wore a face saying “I’ve been caught!” before breaking into an awkward smile and chuckling.

Seeing the Golden Reaper, the old man smiled warmly, like he was looking at his grandson.

Then, he slowly returned to his seat and took a sip from the coffee, now loaded with sugar.

The sweet taste and powdery sugar spread across his mouth.

The old man chuckled at the sugary coffee taste and sat down, gazing out the window.

The sky over Frost was still clear and blue, with the giant pinwheel continuing to turn slowly.

And in the air, there was a faintly sweet scent, like the Golden Reaper’s coffee.

A new day, the beginning of a new Frost.

*

Crunch, crunch.

The abandoned steam engine room, long a resting place for the coral-colored girl, crumbled down.

Brass pipes and broken bricks tumbled down, kicking up clouds of dust.

The coral-colored girl was engulfed in complex emotions as she watched the giant jelly pig devour the old building.

“It feels oddly a bit sad…”

Her voice carried a mix of regret and relief.

The Red Sun Reaper, sensing the complex feelings of the Attached Human, softly patted her head from atop her crown.

That warm comfort eased the girl’s heart a bit.

Turning her head, she caught sight of the mini reapers moving around with large marshmallow bricks.

Thud thud.

The mini reapers were stacking square marshmallows to build houses for the people.

Though it seemed flimsy, built with a haphazard pile of marshmallows, it was surprisingly sturdy and warm.

The sight was akin to fairies creating a village, prompting a smile to spread across the coral-colored girl’s face.

‘….’

The girl etched the last moments of the crumbling old house into her memory and followed the familiar path down.

Her steps were light, yet a strange sentiment lingered in her heart’s corner.

Upon arriving at the open lot where adults gathered each morning to share food, it was bustling with people as always.

But the scenery was markedly different from before.

Where once blue coal had burned in drums, now a large table stood, upon which a plump jelly pig lay.

And people were consuming a variety of delicious-looking foods instead of dull porridge.

All made by the jelly pig.

There was a handle attached to the jelly pig’s side, and pulling it opened the pig’s belly, revealing the food inside.

The girl took some delicious-looking pudding and shared it with the Red Reaper.

The pudding, melting in her mouth, strangely spread warmth throughout her body.

After finishing the simple meal, the girl exchanged friendly greetings with the adults and stepped out into the street.

As she walked down the sunlit street, memories of the past suddenly flooded her mind.

The shouting of Propaganda Department workers.

Sharp icicles.

The desolate street in the early morning, before the sun had risen.

Adults wearing weary expressions.

The narrow, dark mine she had to enter every morning.

The biting cold.

But all of that felt strangely distant now.

As if it were a tale from a far-off past.

The coral-colored girl looked up at the clear blue sky with the Red Sun Reaper perched on her shoulder.

The warm sunlight shone upon their faces, and a gentle breeze rustled the girl’s hair.

Within that wind, a faintly sweet aroma seemed to linger.

*

In the courtyard of Sehee Research Institute, bathed in warm sunlight.

Now, this place was filled with a noisy clamor like a lakeside on a rainy day.

Ribbit ribbit. Ribbit ribbit. Ribbit ribbit.

“How noisy…”

Even with frogs filling the courtyard, it couldn’t possibly be this loud…

I lay on the white hungry ghost with Yerin, frowning.

I felt like I’d want to spray pesticide to quiet them down, but the ones croaking now were frogs immune to poisons.

Mini reapers, enjoying frog shaved ice, were essentially immortal, after all.

Some mini reaper had brought the frog shaved ice from the snowfield into the courtyard.

Ribbit ribbit.

The shaved ice, which made sounds in the mouth like the ice cream from my childhood, was pretty loud, too.

Just the kind of object snack that mini reapers would love.

Maybe that’s why it was all the rage among mini reapers at present.

The courtyard was piled high with frog shaved ice, doused in a rainbow of sauces, and numerous mini reapers were gathered, eager to taste the newly appeared treat.

The problem was how loud it was.

An even bigger problem was that Yerin was smiling and enjoying the frog shaved ice, so I couldn’t just turn the kids into trash.

Even with a frown as if I were sulking, Yerin just smiled and rubbed my brow to smooth it out.

“Mom!”

At that moment, a black reaper approached me, holding out a treat that resembled a corn ice cream.

A two-tiered ice cream-like visual.

A white hungry ghost with a cute expression and a rebellious-looking frog.

It was an intriguing snack with a shaved ice frog stacked on top of the white hungry ghost.

“Well done.”

I praised the snack fondly as I accepted it.

At that, the mini reapers in the courtyard lifted their heads and began to sparkle with excitement.

And all sorts of hungry ghost + frog snacks started flooding towards me.

Snacks with frog shaved ice inside the ghost.

Snacks with a frog body attached to a ghost’s face, and so on.

The snacks kept coming and coming.

“A new snack!”

“Mom!”

“Where did mom go?”

“Ah, the reaper ran away!”

Feeling annoyed with the clingy mini reapers, I used a teleport to escape.

*

In a newspaper office in San Francisco, on the West Coast of America, barely escaping the Pacific Crisis, it was busy as usual.

The sounds of keyboards clattering and phones ringing mixed together, with stories from reporters flowing through the noise.

“I heard James Institute has started an Arctic expedition. Is it related to the recent Object Crisis investigation?”

“Did you hear? Alexander Group released a new object-blocking technology.”

Someone chimed in while passing by with a coffee.

“I even heard rumors that James is moving its headquarters to Korea. Is Alexander taking over the American market?”

Amidst this commotion, the reporter with red hair quietly sat at their desk, organizing materials.

The documents spread before the reporter were all related to the Alexander Group.

What particularly caught their interest was a tip-off that this giant corporation was conducting human experiments in secret.

However, the investigation results so far had been disappointing.

Most of the reports turned out to be pranks or falsehoods.

Yet the reporter did not give up.

They had a gut feeling that something was hidden behind this apparently flawless company.

As the era of Objects dawned and James Corporation became the top company in America, the Alexander Group quietly chased closely behind, claiming the second spot.

Their growth was dazzling, and the social responsibility and ethical management they’d showcased along the way garnered praise from many.

Of course, James Corporation was also a respected company, but there were occasionally small controversies that arose.

Particularly, there were always concerns about the company directly operating the Object Research Institutes.

On the other hand, the Alexander Group maintained a perfect image without any noise at all.

In the beginning, people were puzzled.

How could such a large company operate without any problems?

But as time went on, doubts gradually turned into respect.

The Alexander Group had become synonymous with “a good company.”

“Sigh.”

The reporter let out a deep sigh and began to prepare to leave, having received a pretty credible tip-off that the Alexander Group was secretly running an Object Research Institute.

As they stood up with their bag, a large building came into view outside the window.

Under the blue sky of San Francisco, the headquarters of the Alexander Group stood tall.

 

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