Seoul Object Story

Chapter 36: Steel Tower (4)

Gasping for breath, I ran with all my might down the dim hallway.

The dark hallway where I couldn't see an inch ahead.

The uneasy flickering light of the flashlight in my hand, swaying with my running, seemed to reflect my anxious state of mind.

All my colleagues had been seized by something and burned to death.

What was that thing? A ghost? An Object?

Thud.

Was it because the hallway was too dark?

Or was there another reason?

I tripped over something protruding from the floor and tumbled down.

I couldn't breathe properly.

The flashlight I had in my hand was already gone somewhere.

I desperately looked for the dropped flashlight, but it was nowhere to be found.

Did it break from the impact of the fall?

It seemed impossible to find it in the hallway filled with darkness.

Grasping my trembling knees with tension and fear, I desperately got up from the floor and moved forward again.

No windows, no flashlight.

The dark hallway without any light source, and the floor was uneven with many dents and protrusions.

Cold sweat wouldn't stop from the extreme tension.

Feeling the damp back of my shirt, I slowly moved forward.

Leaning against the wall, dragging my feet to avoid falling, I kept going forward.

The hallway didn't seem this endlessly long before!

Why, why is it so far?

I couldn't see the end of the hallway.

*Pant pant*

I'm out of breath.

Dizzy.

'!'

plat-plat plat-plat

In the silent hallway, the sound of bare footsteps echoed regularly.

Bare feet in this kind of building?

Holding my breath, I just stared in the direction of the sound.

I saw a flickering light, swaying like a ghost.

Something... something is approaching!

"hahhh...hahh...." (panting)

I covered my mouth with both hands to stifle the loud breathing sounds that didn't seem to come from me, but the sounds wouldn't subside.

plat-plat plat-plat

The footsteps grew closer and closer.

What should I do?

The end of the hallway was glowing with an ominous light.

Like the sulfurous flames leading to the underworld.

Should I run away now?

Go back to where my colleague burned to death?

Or hide somewhere?

No matter how much I breathed, I couldn't catch my breath.

Even understanding it was hyperventilation, I couldn't breathe properly.

My ears were ringing.

Too much sweat, I couldn't open my eyes properly.

Can't breathe, can't breathe.

hahhh...hahh....

***

Reaper (MC) POV:

---

After passing by a sobbing female ghost scratching the wall, what appeared was an extremely long hallway.

There were many dented areas as if something had broken, and it was a messy hallway with chairs and desks strewn about haphazardly.

With no windows, the hallway was dark like a darkroom, and it seemed inconvenient to walk through with many obstacles.

Unless you could shoot light from your eyes like me, a flashlight was essential!

About halfway down the hallway, there was a man lying collapsed, his face pale blue.

The man, who had been gasping for breath, saw my face as I entered the hallway and immediately passed out.

Upon closer inspection, the man I thought had fainted was not breathing and his heart wasn't beating either.

What's this, did he have a heart attack just from seeing me?

I simply jumped and stepped on the man.

I bounced up and stomped right on his chest.

hop, hop, hop

After repeating it a few times, he started wheezing and breathing again.

I performed basic life-saving measures so he wouldn't die and leave me feeling unpleasant.

He could have regained consciousness, but perhaps due to many hardships, he remained unconscious.

Leaving the now evenly breathing, sleeping man behind, I set off again deeper into the hallway.

***

Blood-stained words were being scrawled, sliding across the wall.

<Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Home. Let me go.>

<Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Home. Let me go.>

<Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Home. Let me go.>

If a ghost wasn't visible, the writing seemed quite creepy.

The handwriting style seemed quite deliberate, exuding a ghostly vibe.

Except that the one writing was a tiny little boy.

Come to think of it, shouldn't being able to see ghosts be scarier?

Looking now, that boy's eye sockets were hollowed out and dripping blood.

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Why wasn't I scared? As I pondered this, I realized something.

I had lightly thought 'They're ghosts!' but was subconsciously sensing it.

These guys were Objects too.

That boy, and the crying woman at the entrance, were actually Objects.

Well, from an Object's perspective, it would be hard to find other Objects scary.

The boy writing on the wall seemed to notice me staring at him, and disappeared through the wall.

The ominous writing on the wall vanished as well.

From my perspective, this abandoned building was essentially a ghost house.

Next time they should prepare an attraction with ghosts to people.

tak tak tak tak.

The sound of something running echoed through the empty building.

Tracing the source of the sound, a tiny girl was rolling around in an empty room.

The ghost girl, startled upon noticing me, fled through the wall.

This abandoned building was quite an interesting attraction, but the issue was they made no attempt to hide their true nature.

As I went on, there was an old man stealthily approaching.

The old man, mumbling in an incomprehensible way, slid away when I turned to look at him.

The reason for the mumbling was that he was wrapping his tongue in a scarf.

Why was he wearing such a scarf?

Continuing deeper and deeper, I arrived at what seemed to be the main attraction.

The fresh scent of something recently burned.

An underground staircase that refuses to let in the light.

Charred lumps burned so black their original forms were unrecognizable.

The atmosphere was somewhat eerie.

Fluttering with anticipation, I descended the stairs, step by step.

At the corner of the staircase, a burned old man suddenly popped out.

The old man, spewing fire from his whole body, reached out his hand as if to grab my neck.

He reached out, but...

Our eyes met, and he slowly lowered his hand again.

Though his expression was unseen, he disappeared beyond the wall, leaving behind a disconcerting atmosphere.

Hearing a sound, I turned to see numerous burned old men popping out on the upper stairs as well.

Perhaps their role was to surprise anyone trying to flee up the stairs?

Sensing me watching, the old men upstairs also seemed to scurry away.

It felt like the ghostly house attraction had come to an end with the staircase as the final part.

A bit of a letdown.

***

Descending underground, there were numerous isolation rooms arrayed on both sides of a long central hallway.

A full-fledged laboratory commonly seen.

Unfortunately, the ghosts that appeared above ground were no longer visible.

The suspicion that humans created the combined Objects solidified.

There were many scattered papers as if deliberately strewn about, but not many could be recognized.

The tools left in the isolation rooms were mostly sinister things like drills and huge saws.

It seems they mainly conducted experiments cutting off human limbs with those dreadful tools, hollowing them out, and implanting Objects in the empty spaces.

There was a key material repeatedly mentioned in the reports.

Golden Horn.

An Object that, while being an Object itself, could be easily melted like gold to create things.

However, handling Golden Horns was illegal in Korea.

Because Golden Horns are harvested from human heads.

Of course, despite being illegal, related incidents never ceased due to it being the easiest way to process/research Objects.

Crimes like knocking people unconscious with bricks and cutting off their horns never stopped happening.

Now that I've arrived here, I understand.

The zombies' golden hearts were made from Golden Horns.

Passing by the scattered papers, I continued onward.

Upon reaching the deepest room underground, familiar faces were seen everywhere.

The little boy with hollowed out eyes writing.

The crying woman at the entrance.

The old man mumbling incomprehensibly due to his scarf.

The charred old men.

The girl who was stamping her feet.

They all had machinery implanted, turned into zombies hung up on racks like pigs in a slaughterhouse.

Now I understood why the zombies' expressions were so distorted.

The golden hearts kept binding them here.

And beyond the zombies hung on racks, there was a man strapped to a chair.

A fat old man wearing a lab coat, who by his attire seemed to belong to this Research Institute.

He was dead with wires plugged into his whole body, so it's hard to say if he really belonged to the Institute.

And I thought this old man was the main body controlling the zombies.

Because inside this old man's body were many golden hearts implanted.

He had essentially replaced all his organs with golden hearts.

The condition to destroy was simple,

[Cut off the power supply.]

I stomped on the wires with my foot, severing them.

With the power cut off, the old man in the lab coat exploded as the hearts burst out in all directions.

Simultaneously, the zombies hung on the racks turned to ash and vanished.

All that remained was the old man's severed head and the golden hearts scattered everywhere.

With this, the Steel Tower incident is over.

Tracking down the evil organization behind this lab will likely be left to others.

As I thought this, I could hear the sounds of many footsteps and vehicles approaching from above.