Seoul Object Story

On the top floor of James Tower, located on the outskirts of Songpa-gu, James turned his plush leather chair towards the window and sat down.

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the massive glass window, casting a warm shadow on one side of his face.

The view of the city beyond the window was peaceful.

So peaceful, in fact, that the chaos that had recently shaken the world seemed almost like a dream.

"It seems like it's finally settling down," James muttered as he gazed outside.

There was a sense of relief in his voice.

Although his desk was still piled high with paperwork that needed to be dealt with, there were no new tasks requiring his approval for the moment.

The brief respite he was enjoying was actually the result of the Golden Reaper's intervention, who had sent a few "resting requests" to ensure he took a break.

Once this break ended, he'd be buried once again in the mountain of paperwork, but just knowing that the end was in sight gave him a sense of renewed energy.

James took a sip from his coffee cup.

The "Nameless" incident.

It wasn’t just a simple object accident—it was a massive ripple that shook the very existence of humanity.

As people's forgotten memories suddenly resurfaced, the world was engulfed in greater turmoil and social unrest than expected.

The very fact that objects either forgot or brought back human memories was unsettling in itself.

For people who weren’t in object-related professions, it must have felt like a denial of their very selves.

The terrified people flooded the streets, holding protests in an attempt to calm their anxieties.

Conspiracy theories targeting these fears kept pouring out.

And people who even began to doubt their own memories and identities emerged in droves.

The entire world was in a complete frenzy.

But when looking down at Songpa-gu from the window, there was no trace of that chaos.