I watched as Kim Cheon-soo and Han Seori wobbled toward me, and though I had been feeling uneasy, the sight of them made Jelly bubble up inside me with laughter.
Why was the Jelly bubbling?
Because it was funny… no, because it was amusing.
First of all, Kim Cheon-soo looked undeniably hilarious.
Dressed in an enormous toy costume, he shuffled along with awkward, unsteady steps.
The word “wobbled” might as well have been invented specifically to describe this sight.
Honestly, if it had been a younger person dressed like that, I might have thought it was cute instead of comical, but alas, Kim Cheon-soo was unmistakably grown—a dark adult male.
Laughter was inevitable.
Right beside this Rudolph-costumed Kim Cheon-soo, Han Seori leaned against his arm, a Santa hat perched jauntily on her head.
Considering their relationship, their outfits were surprisingly well-suited for each other.
My Jelly bubbled again, amused, but as their faces came into clearer view, it stiffened sharply.
Not from the cold, but from the palpable tension in the air.
And yet, there was no way around it.
The fact that their expressions were less than reassuring meant one thing: the mystery of why Han Seori had been staring at me so meaningfully earlier was about to be revealed.
I didn’t need them to explain what it was. The confrontation with that enormous “something” was likely what awaited.
Thinking it over, I first thought they were mad, but as I warmed myself by the campfire in the biting cold… maybe, just maybe, it was possible.
Though it was more like an inkling of possibility rather than outright confidence. In fact, it felt more like a question of whether there’d be any other experience like this anywhere else.
Perhaps nowhere.
It’s like the metaphor of an egg hitting a rock—but on a much grander scale.
Maybe the cold had affected my senses.
It may have been better to stay warm and strategize from there, rather than remain exposed to the freezing conditions.
During this time, the two approached me and plopped down heavily beside the fire.
Their faces, softened by the heat of the fire, spoke words meant for me to hear.
“Seems like it’s not working, huh?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not.”
“Then all this effort…?”
Kim Cheon-soo, wiping his nose, mumbled something, to which Han Seori, glancing briefly at me, quietly responded.
“Let’s keep observing it a little longer. For now, we still have some room… to spare.”
“Would asking for support elsewhere… be too much?”
Han Seori paused thoughtfully. “Then, what was the point of coming all the way here…?”
“That’s true… Yes.”
Han Seori’s response seemed to leave Kim Cheon-soo in contemplation, his eyes briefly flicking toward me before standing up.
“Let’s eat something first… it should warm us up.”
“Agreed.”
Kim Cheon-soo then began making dinner preparations, while Han Seori fiddled with something she pulled from her coat.
I sat nearby, observing him carefully.
Why didn’t I help?
I hadn’t sensed any need to.
Besides, you’d probably need someone around the same height to help properly.
With such a big height difference, I’d likely just get in the way.
Isn’t staying out of the way sometimes a form of help?
It wasn’t my style to meddle and get scolded.
And how about Han Seori?
When I shifted my gaze to her quietly tinkering with whatever she had in her hands, I noticed a subtle sense of embarrassment.
Right.
She had tried to help Kim Cheon-soo yesterday, only to get sent away.
When I’d seen how startled she was while making noodles, I wondered if she lacked cooking skills.
Though I hadn’t witnessed exactly what happened that caused her to get shooed away, given Kim Cheon-soo’s apparent fondness for her, the implication was clear.
She must not be much of a cook.
Enough to make a man send her away despite liking her.
How bad could she be?
I glanced at Han Seori again.
Her intelligent appearance made her seem capable of anything, but clearly, she also had her weaknesses.
To be honest, she sometimes came off as a bit overly eager.
But… doesn’t everyone need a little flaw to feel human?
A person who’s too perfect is hard to connect with.
And knowing that Han Seori, despite her brilliance, struggled with cooking, gave me just a tiny spark of satisfaction.
She calls herself a “doctor” at such a young age, yet I know I can cook better than her.
It felt like my side of the Jelly lifted slightly, a bit of pride swelling inside me.
Then, right behind me, Kim Cheon-soo nonchalantly set down the food he’d prepared.
There was quite a bit of it, likely including portions for the rest of the Jelly gang.
He set it down in a detached manner, making clear it wasn’t specifically for me.
Still, there was a subtle irritation watching him do that.
“… Shall we eat now?”
“Ah… thank you. I wanted to help–”
“No need, really. To be honest, cooking is a hobby of mine.”
“Oh… I’ve heard cooking men are very popular these days. That’s great.”
“R-really?”
Hearing his cheerful, wide-eyed laughter was a bit grating.
I thought about how I could get revenge on him but decided against it.
Regardless of his intentions, he had gone out of his way to prepare food for me, and it wasn’t fair to repay that with spite.
At least not simply because it made me feel unpleasant.
If there were more justified reasons, that’d be a different story.
The Jelly crew eventually noticed it was dinner time and gathered around me.
Though the others didn’t seem too bothered, Sosik, that young rascal, was always quick to perk up at the prospect of food. It was irritating how much of a difference his behavior showed when it came to meals.
Was it strange for me to feel this way?
It was hard to say since I lacked comparison.
In any case,
Kim Cheon-soo’s soup, assumedly a stew, was quite tasty.
Lacking the means to savor every texture, I simply let it slide down into me, and it carried a delicious, rich flavor.
I divvied up the portions and passed the dishes around to the Jelly companions.
The day had seemed as if it would pass quietly.
Until it didn’t.
I shouldn’t have thought that way.
But I didn’t know… did I?
Nothing will happen.
After this war ends, I’ll propose to her.
I really wanted nothing to happen.
These thoughts I’d casually brushed aside, seemed less like idle musings now, as the current situation unfolded.
Just like “how could smoke come out of a chimney if there’s no fire,” I started to wonder if it wasn’t a cliché but a common sense.
I wasn’t fond of such expressions, but in hindsight, when things turned this way, there always seemed to be some validity to them.
“Uh, um… which way do we go to the control room?”
“I don’t know…”
“Ugh…”
The sight of Han Seori and Kim Cheon-soo looking flustered and confused was not something to applaud, though they deserved credit for not panicking.
It didn’t matter though—they’d apparently been abruptly sent off and were now lost.
It was a cold night, and everything seemed perfectly fine, (or so we thought),
But the facility where we’d taken refuge began to tremble violently.
The noise was so loud it felt like an earthquake. Even I, who had been resting with Jungsik as a pillow, jumped up startled.
Of course, Kim Cheon-soo and Han Seori scrambled out of the tent in equal disarray.
At the exact moment they emerged,
Something manifested in our space.
Not out of nowhere—no, it broke through the ceiling, crashing to the floor and leaving a hole before disappearing.
Dr-r-r-r!
The floor trembled under our feet.
Predicting what was about to happen was no difficult task.
“Run! Stick together! Over there!”
We raced like headless chickens in the direction Han Seori indicated, clutching the arm of the slightly confused Sosik while making sure the Jelly crew followed behind.
And then, after what felt like an eternity of fleeing,
The unknown force suddenly went quiet.
Only then could we catch our breaths.
Because of the large hole in the ceiling, the cold seemed to have intensified.
Steam from Han Seori and Kim Cheon-soo’s breath was unusually thick, almost freezing and falling as if it were snow.
I gazed around with growing concern.
Having been observant earlier while collecting fans, I retained a fairly clear mental map of the facility’s layout.
Though, due to the recent tremors,
The area appeared more disheveled than before, likely from years of neglect.
Details aside, since I didn’t construct the place.
First, Han Seori had mentioned going to the control room, hadn’t she?
After scanning the surroundings, I pulled on the sleeve of Han Seori’s coat, roughly indicating the way.
“Huff… what’s this all of a- … Huh? What is it?”
Han Seori, her nose and cheeks flushed red, looked at me with puzzled eyes.
Silently (since I’m incapable of speech), I pointed the way.
Han Seori, surprised, muttered.
“Wait… is the control room this way?”
When I gave her a firm Jelly nudge, both she and Kim Cheon-soo exchanged stunned looks.
“Maybe the PhD really was right… could you be a genius?”
“You doubted me?”
Hmm.
Perhaps it’d be best to focus on reaching the control room rather than complimenting me.
Feeling slightly awkward, I tugged on their sleeves and urged them forward.
The Jelly crew, especially Sosik, who seemed fully aware of the situation’s severity, followed willingly.
It appeared they were not lacking in survival instincts, at least when it came to food.
Krroooom.
And then, suddenly,
A mild tremor rippled through the facility.
It wasn’t heading toward us, and sighs of relief were heard all around.
The shifting expressions on their faces—pale then flushed—were evident.
We needed to hurry.
Humans were more fragile than they seemed.
Praying we wouldn’t encounter that thing on the way,
But as I halted my thoughts,
I began to question my own learning abilities.
As we slowly advanced toward the control room,
The earlier doubts lingered in my mind.
Anxiety welled up inside me.
