The Songpa-gu Sinkhole Evacuee Camp was in an uproar.

It was only natural that it would be in an uproar.

They had witnessed a scene where blood was flowing like a river, and human skin was floating on top of it. It would be strange if there was no uproar.

The gray Reaper standing in the center of the blood pool, and the clothes and belongings submerged in the bloody water, created a rather unique landscape.

The problem was that it was a scene that would be perfect for a horror movie poster.

Reporters had flocked in, eagerly trying to take as many photos as possible, shoving their cameras forward.

The soldiers were working hard to push them back, but it was not enough.

In fact, no matter how much they tried to stop them here, they would not be able to prevent the news from being published.

Probably, another urban legend related to the Gray Reaper would be added.

By tomorrow morning, there will be an exciting article like 'People who disappeared overnight... Is the gray Reaper the culprit?!' along with the atmospheric photos being taken now.

The sad part was that it was good for our position to let the notoriety of the gray Reaper continue, and despite being in charge of this place, I was unable to prevent this situation.

If we had simply kept the main gate closed and remained silent, we might have been able to let it pass, but the soldiers, startled by the bloody water, had opened the gate, allowing the reporters to successfully take photos.

The soldier who had left the post without authorization and committed the atrocity of opening the gate was the one who caused this commotion.

My temples are throbbing with stress.

It would have been normal to clean up this disturbance and start the operation, but we didn't have time.

Thinking about the butterflies spreading from Songpa-gu and the countdown to the missile launch, we couldn't afford to waste a single moment.

We have about 24 hours left.

Before that, we need to secure the target Object and start the destruction work.

I left the task of dealing with the reporters to the soldiers, and only the personnel I had summoned for the search entered the silent camp.

***

As we entered the camp interior, the huge blood pool that greeted us was a sight to behold.

Just by a glance, it seemed that more than half of the camp's residents had died here.

Both in terms of the amount of blood and the scattered belongings and clothes, it was evident.

The gray Reaper that had caused this devastation was hopping and jumping on the bloody water.

Through my monocle, it looked like it was trampling on butterflies to chase them away, but to others, it might have appeared as a crazed Object, joyfully jumping on the bloody water.

As expected, everyone except the blind old man seemed to view it with unease.

I clapped my hands to draw their attention and then gave the order.

"Alright, now, as previously informed, please disperse and search for the Object. If you find it, please fire a flare. We will be preparing in the center of the camp."

True to their reputation as skilled professionals, they dispersed efficiently and began searching their assigned areas as soon as the task was given.

"Wow, there are Reaper-shaped holes in the wall here!"

While moving towards the camp center, the junior reported that she had found something interesting during her movement.

Following her words, I turned my head to check, and there were indeed intriguing traces among the devastated remains.

There were walls with various shapes of holes punched through them.

Reaper-shaped holes, Reaper palm-shaped holes, Reaper footprint-shaped holes.

There were holes of diverse shapes.

'What on earth was the Reaper doing here?'

It was a puzzling trace.

***

Reaper (MC) POV:

---

The detective had deployed a lot of people within the camp.

To eliminate the butterflies, they would need to fulfill certain conditions.

[Break the black mirror.]

Probably, this 'black mirror' Object is the source producing the butterflies.

Most of the breeding Objects so far have been like that.

If the seemingly intelligent detective thinks the 'black mirror' is here, then there must be some basis for it, right?

Of course, the detective seemed unaware of whether what he was searching for was actually a mirror or not.

After all, he always referred to it as an 'Object'

Well, if one doesn't have the ability to see the destruction conditions like I do, it would be difficult to know that the Object that needs to be destroyed is the 'black mirror'

I observed the detective's actions with great interest, waiting for an opportunity to intervene.

***

Yellow Detective POV:

---

The search ultimately failed.

At least, the result was that there was no Object that could be found through a normal search within the camp.

The search team I had mobilized had fulfilled their role.

I had sent them away early before the old man's work began.

After all, the old man's work was not something many people should witness.

I glanced at the Watson in my right hand, then asked the waiting old man.

"Old man, I'll leave it to you."

"Okay."

The old man briefly replied, opened the blood-stained book, and started driving the nails inside it into the ground around him.

The eerie part was that when he drove the nails in, blood seemed to gush out of the ground as if it were bleeding.

After surrounding himself with the nails, the old man closed the book and knelt down.

"Aaaaaah!"

The old man's scream filled the camp.

And tears of blood started pouring from his eyes like a waterfall.

It seemed like something was terribly wrong.

When I had seen him before, he didn't perform such a grandiose ritual, nor did he look this agonized. What's going on?

"Se... Senior, something seems off. Is this how it's supposed to happen?"

At my junior's remark, I saw The Book of Prescience at the old man's feet starting to burn like charcoal.

What on earth is happening?

***

The Old Man POV:

---

I was facing the end of my days.

Every day, every breath, I could feel myself becoming a monster.

The urge to destroy kept arising, and The Book of Prescience kept driving me.

While searching for a place to die before I fully became a monster, I received a call.

It was from a young man I had greatly helped when saving his daughter.

That's when I felt it.

This is where I will die.

So I came here to repay the favor.

But from the moment I entered this camp, I felt something was wrong.

I sensed a presence far more powerful than The Book of Prescience, giving me a chilling warning.

[Get out of here right now.]

It was a terrifying warning.

I gritted my teeth and ignored it.

At least I wanted to repay the favor before dying.

When my turn came after the search was over, I decided to risk my life on this one question.

'Where is the Object that is the cause of the butterflies?'

Due to the excruciating pain from overusing The Book of Prescience, I couldn't speak properly, but The Book of Prescience heard my wish.

If the price is insufficient, then Book of Prescience, take my life.

I will give up my life here.

Beyond my eyes that could no longer see the light, the red form shown by The Book of Prescience appeared.

It was a mirror.

The Object the detective was searching for was a mirror.

Its location was...!

***

Yellow Detective POV:

---

"What?"

I couldn't help but be surprised by the sudden turn of events.

The Book of Prescience had turned to ashes, and the nails driven into the ground were all instantly pulled out and flew away.

The old man, with an expression as if he had found the answer, opened his mouth to say something to me.

But as he was about to speak, his neck twisted grotesquely, and he died on the spot.

What the hell? Was the core of the butterflies an Object capable of such a thing?

"O... Old man."

My junior also turned pale-faced, trembling at this bizarre phenomenon.

I hurried to the old man, but he had already stopped breathing.

I had a feeling the old man's life was not much left, but I didn't expect him to go so suddenly.

It was clearly a homicide at a glance.

It didn't seem like a side effect of The Book of Prescience either.

The old man seemed to have discovered something.

Who on earth killed the old man?

Is this the doing of the Object that creates the butterflies?

If that's the case, then I must stop the missile attack even more.

An Object capable of such transcendental phenomena would not be destroyed by a mere missile attack.

But I have no more options left.

If I had more time, maybe, but with just over 24 hours, there is no other way.

As I turned my gaze, I saw the Watson in my right hand.

Ah, Watson!

Watson could provide a solution.

Ignoring the ominous premonition filling my mind, I decided to choose the only option available.

I raised the lamp in my right hand high and shouted,

"Watson, tell me what the Object that is the source of these butterfly Objects is!"

"Watson, tell me what the Object that is the source of these butterfly Objects is!"

"Watson, tell me what the Object that is the source of these butterfly Objects is!"

A chuckling laughter seeped out from the lamp.

[I refuse.]

[I refuse.]

[I refuse.]

The lamp in my right hand started violently shaking.

Then it shot up into the sky, drawing a certain shadow.

[That's cheating, Holmes.]

[Using an Object to peek at the answer sheet, that's not like you, Holmes.]

[A fake Holmes must die! Must die! Must die!]

[But Watson is kind, so I'll give you a chance.]

The shadow cast by the raised lamp, Watson, uttered those ominous words.

From Watson's shadow, a stench of bloodshed wafted through.