Reaper hadn’t needed to warp to the mortal realm to reap any souls today. But just as he was beginning to relax, a soul in distress called out. The manifestation of death was immediately present, finding himself suddenly stood beside a little soul barely clinging onto life, his scythe firmly in his hands. He would never admit it, but Reaper hated doing his job. The distressed soul was teetering on the verge of death, and Reaper couldn’t help but feel sympathy for it.