The trembling jelly was transported in a vehicle that left its cozy nest and drove through the city, eventually slipping out to the outskirts.
The vehicle came to a stop in a parking lot, where a large warehouse and factory buildings could be discerned.
Even as the vehicle stopped, the logistics warehouse buzzed with constant activity as massive freight trucks went in and out without pause.
Inside the warehouse, goods poured out ceaselessly and were loaded onto the trucks, their cargo holds filling up before quickly heading either back into the city or off to the provinces.
The people loading the goods appeared tired from their arduous labor, yet their faces carried smiles, giving an impression of pride in their work.
Above these people’s heads, an odd sign caught the eye.
[Soylent Purple Co.]
Meanwhile, in the now-parked vehicle, a man with his eyes covered got out. Carefully, he stepped out and began moving, reverently carrying something from the backseat as if it were a sacred artifact.
Each time the object, swathed in black cloth, twitched, the man stopped and gazed at it silently.
Only after the mysterious trembling in the cloth settled did the man resume his steps.
Walking silently through the shadow of the enormous warehouse, he passed the bustling workers and ventured into the factory.
Inside the factory, a faint yet pleasant aroma wafted around.
True to its reputation, even in passing, the man could see numerous products packaged and sent off to the warehouses from Soylent Purple Co., a company renowned for its production of efficient and appetizing goods.
The facility was immaculate, with production lines meticulously managed, pumping out products in a steady and unrelenting flow.
The man continued deeper into the facility. He passed through a door marked with a sticker: [Strictly No Entry Except for Authorized Personnel].
The area was well isolated from where the factory employees took their breaks.
With a resounding metallic click behind him, the door shut firmly, its presence suggesting an impregnable barrier even to the smallest of creatures.
Amidst the factory’s operations, glimpses of the food preparation process began to reveal themselves to the man.
It began in a dimly lit corridor, where ‘red chunks’ would appear, marking the start of the cooking process.
The large ‘chunk of meat’ would descend from the hooks and glide into the processing equipment. Each piece was then cut according to its intended use and sent to its respective stations.
The smaller, chopped pieces were mixed with various ingredients and transformed into Soylent Purple Co.’s product.
Though most of the work was handled by machines, occasionally, human hands could still be seen in the process.
But these workers rarely questioned the origin of the red meat or its nature.
Since the machines mostly handled the cooking, there was little time or reason for doubt. Their duties were straightforward: ensuring smooth operations and reporting any problems.
The wages were good, the benefits excellent.
Especially with the discounted access to Soylent Purple Co. products, it was undeniably one of the best jobs.
They took pride in their work, knowing that their products, cheap and highly favored, were distributed widely across the country and often included in charitable donations.
Although, some employees occasionally engaged in suspicious activities and were swiftly terminated.
But was that not their fault for failing to follow the rules?
The employees of Soylent Purple Co. were, as usual, content and happy in their jobs.
This was likely to continue.
Gazing upon the factory’s operations, the man pondered.
‘What kind of meat is this?’
At first, the man had been a regular consumer of Soylent Purple Co.’s products himself.
After all, it seemed like a loss not to enjoy something so affordable and tasty.
But ever since he started working behind the factory, a vague discomfort kept him from eating it.
He could have dug deeper into this mystery if he wished…
The man shook his head.
In his current position, there were things better left unknown.
Moreover, wasn’t he already walking a thin line with the company’s rules? One misstep and he could face dire consequences.
Thus, he avoided the temptation to satisfy his curiosity, no matter what lay beneath the dim corridor.
“…probably something with its nose pierced,” the man thought.
With a sigh, memories of the woman urging him on surfaced.
Her smooth, convincing tone came to mind, promising safety and reassurance. He shook his head again.
It felt as if he had swallowed the bait, like a fish on a line but, somehow, there was no escaping her.
As he sighed repeatedly, he arrived at the deepest point of the factory.
Taking something from his pocket, he placed it against the wall. A sound of electricity hummed as a door opened, revealing an elevator.
Since a while ago, the object in his hands had gone still.
Earlier, it had been actively trembling, but now there was no movement at all.
Could it… have died?
His uneasiness deepened as the elevator doors closed.
—
The vehicle came to a stop. Shortly after, a sensation of floating filled the jelly.
It trembled involuntarily, reacting to the trauma of abduction, a scenario modern people might find odd.
While not uncommon in some places, in the Korea that it knew, it was indeed a rarity.
Experiencing what once seemed confined to novels, films, and news, its body could not stop trembling. If it were human—if it were still human—it would not survive such tremors.
Then it remembered—it wasn’t human anymore.
“d*mn.”
Whether liquid monster or human, fear of abduction remained the same.
Swallowing a bitter joke, the jelly noticed its quivering subsiding.
As they say, even in the tiger’s den, awareness keeps one alive.
It calmed down its mind.
The trembling ceased.
A familiar smell followed—familiar, until not too long ago.
The strong aroma emanated from Soylent Purple Co.’s retort packets, as though swimming in a pool filled with them.
Absurd, perhaps, but perhaps that was indeed where it was—the factory of Soylent Purple Co.
In an eerie thought, could every product they made come from creatures like itself?
Could it be headed to a butcher-like shop, sold with glee?
“Maybe I should have stayed in the sewer.”
Neither scenario seemed preferable, but it was hard to believe they’d hunt for ingredients there.
It felt ridiculous, dragged here for the likes of beer and instant noodles, and now ending up in Soylent Purple Co.’s factory.
Surely not? After a while in the sewers, it must smell bad—too unsanitary to be considered food.
A rattle.
A thump.
Trapped in the dark, absurd and paranoid thoughts swarmed in its mind until the sound of something closing quieted them down.
A sense of tilting upwards followed—probably an elevator.
A familiar thud returned its body to its original position.
Should it be grateful for such sensitivity, or complain about being in this situation?
More waiting followed as it wished against ending up in some jelly-processing factory.
A clacking sound akin to false teeth dropping, then stillness.
A swish.
Light didn’t come with the removal of the cloth, just prolonged darkness.
Another click, a door locking.
Then a snap, and the room lit up.
Blinded for a moment without eyes to squint, the view quickly returned.
Surprisingly convenient.
Trapped in a box, it found its abductor’s patience wearing thin.
Oddly, the room was entirely white, as though to reveal even the smallest imperfection.
Even its blue jelly might stain the surface.
The pristine white room reminded it of a sterile lab.
Oddly impressive, it outshone the simplicity of the jelly’s original studio apartment.
“Of course, it was empty,” it thought.
As despair crept up, there was a click, and the pressure binding it loosened.
Relieved of the crushing sensation, its original form began to return.
Like a crushed mushroom recovering after being stepped on by a bearded plumber, it felt oddly temporary.
Free from the box, it looked around.
A large mirror caught its eye, though positioned too high for reflecting its own body.
Something more suited to giants wanting to groom themselves.
Suddenly, the door opened.
Heavy footsteps approached.
There, facing it, was a white-suited alien being.
Massive and featureless, except for large black windows that bore into it.
The jelly contracted instinctively.
