As Yang Ha-na was showing the world to the puddings in her womb:
In a space resembling a large lecture hall, various presentations were ongoing.
Even though it was a formal gathering, considering that what the laboratories managed was referred to as a “Singularity,” these entities, intriguing in their very existence, ensured that the content of the presentations was not entirely void of significance.
From something seemingly trivial like an Ethernet cable that reversed its ends every time it was plugged in, to objects eerily akin to toys that began to move when surrounding light sources disappeared.
Nonetheless, the content did feel somewhat lacking.
However, the presenters had their own circumstances to consider.
Originally, there was ample time left until the next meeting.
But an incident involving 7496 – KR occurred, and since Han Seori, who was managing it, had something to convey, the date was moved up to today.
Thus, there had not been enough time to prepare a flawless presentation.
Of course, there were ones who managed to do it properly, but judging from their sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, one could clearly see the efforts they had put in to avoid any faultfinding.
One might wonder why they need to go to such lengths, but it wasn’t that simple.
It’s like when you gather five people, one of them turns out to be a waste.
Similarly, while people talk about the global village, conflicts never cease.
Thinking that all the laboratories can get along happily is closer to an idealistic notion.
No matter how great the cause of benefiting humanity might be,
They were human after all.
Not just five but an incalculable number of humans had gathered.
Even if they managed to form groups within each laboratory, discord between laboratories was inevitable.
So when a laboratory with bad relations made any mistakes, they ended up getting torn apart.
And when researchers’ egos were thrown into the mix, even in situations where one might think, “Do we really need to go that far?” people who couldn’t help but act that way were bound to appear.
In short,
It was essentially a story of how the egos of leaders caused the subordinates to suffer.
At any rate,
Even excluding such odd relationships, there was a laboratory that received unfriendly glances.
Well, there were many who questioned whether it should even be called a laboratory in the first place. That thought didn’t seem entirely wrong either.
As the large laboratory didn’t own more than a few singularities like 7496 – KR, it felt more like a large isolation chamber than a proper laboratory.
What’s more, it had even caused an accident by not managing even these properly, becoming the reason why the schedule was pulled forward.
Perhaps it was strange that the gazes towards Han Seori were not entirely hostile.
Her cold and unperturbed demeanor, which showed no wrong on her part, only fueled the situation.
We should’ve seen this coming when they suggested using a singularity to destroy another one.
We should’ve taken a more conservative approach, to avoid things like this.
Indeed, adhering to precedent was the right move.
Ignoring the rules written in red was probably the price they paid.
But there were not just those who were hostile towards her.
As mentioned earlier, it was extremely difficult for everyone to share the same opinion.
Something feels off.
Why does the report seem so incomplete? Did an accident really happen?
Hm… knowing the doctor I do, it’s odd for them to make such a mistake… suspicious.
While various thoughts and opinions bubbled up, there was one commonality amidst this jungle of thoughts.
Hence,
Where’s 7496 – KR?
That was why they awaited Han Seori’s turn.
Because the shared reports stated that it had murdered the accompanying agent and disappeared, her somewhat overconfident demeanor was incomprehensible.
Because if all that was written in the report were true, it wasn’t the time for her to be calmly preparing a presentation.
When thoughts emerged that they should have eliminated 7496 – KR from the very beginning,
Han Seori, seated in her chair, abruptly stood up and began moving forward with a cold expression.
Finally, it was her turn after all the waiting.
Despite receiving countless stares, she didn’t flinch even once.
A look that naturally made one say “tough.”
Which made one wonder, how could she be so shameless after causing this accident?
As such thoughts surfaced, the preceding presenter handed the microphone to Han Seori, and she cleared her throat before speaking.
“I don’t see the need to introduce myself. Let’s proceed straight to the main subject.”
Her assertion, akin to reaping the fruits of patience, was her way of immediately heading towards the core topic.
Although jeers like “Who do you think you are?” could be heard, Han Seori cast a side glance at the person and gave a derisive snort.
After all, the one being ignored was someone she didn’t know, an obscure figure in her memory.
Whether the mocked person’s face turned red or not,
Han Seori, standing like an idol pop star on stage, held the microphone in one hand and extended her other towards the audience sitting in front.
As everyone, stunned, blinked their eyes,
“…Will you come out?”
At the oddly kind tone of Han Seori’s voice,
“What, what is that thing?”
“Eh?”
“Could it be…”
Han Seori’s back started to bubble, and a greenish something began wriggling out from her sleeve.
The green-colored something that appeared like children’s clay on Han Seori’s hand,
In the blink of an eye, transformed into the form of a Jelly Girl.
The Jelly Girl that suddenly appeared sat on Han Seori’s palm and stretched, much like a person feeling stiffness.
To the onlookers who stared dumbfounded, it looked as if a lion yawning.
After all,
This was the singularity known to have melted someone completely and killed them before fleeing.
“7, 7496 – KR…!?”
“W-wow!”
“Murderous Jelly!”
“A crazed scientist brought a singularity that killed a person!”
“Security!!!”
As those listening to Han Seori for any words of explanation began yelling uncontrollably in the unexpected situation,
It seemed that if left unchecked, this situation would be unresolvable.
Though Han Seori found it amusing to watch their absurd reactions, she had to seize the microphone and shout because this was not why she had come this far.
“Everyone, calm down! Has 7496 – KR attacked any of you? 7496 – KR is just sitting nicely on my palm, isn’t it?”
“But it killed someone, didn’t it!”
Amid the confusion, questions started emerging.
Regaining a bit of composure from Han Seori’s voice, the audience nodded in agreement with the question.
Seeing this, Han Seori looked towards her seated position and continued talking,
Looking towards the direction where Hwang Bo-yul quietly stood up upon hearing her voice.
“7496 – KR killed someone, you say. What does that mean?”
“Did you not read the report? Or rather, you must know better than anyone, right? The agent accompanying 7496 – KR is dead! So how on earth did you recover it?”
While pretending to heed the questions pouring in, Han Seori placed 7496 – KR beside her.
It was really amusing to watch the people who were loudly talking earlier fall silent the moment she placed the Jelly Girl down.
Han Seori slowly stroked the Jelly Girl’s head as if to say it was harmless, while observing the people.
It was a sight akin to a psychopathic scientist out of a novel.
The moment she ordered everyone to be killed by the Jelly Girl would make it complete.
However, contrary to the assumption that she was the ringleader,
Her words were surprising.
“So you’re saying 7496 – KR killed our affiliated agent, fled, but returned to me?”
The audience, feeling oppressed by the strange atmosphere around Han Seori, nodded silently, and she shook her head, saying:
“I read that report too, but I have no idea who wrote such nonsense. Ah, our kid doesn’t bite, really.”
As the face of the person who had ordered the writing of that report reddened,
Han Seori suddenly wore a cold expression and spoke:
“I would appreciate it if reports were based on facts going forward. If I were to ask where it went wrong… I’d say everywhere.”
At her nod, Hwang Bo-yul, who had been waiting below the stage, swiftly ascended it.
As the audience looked at her curiously, she calmly removed her mask and hat.
As her stern face was revealed, the face that had reddened earlier turned pale, almost white.
“The accompanying agent did not die. They returned safely to the lab with 7496 – KR. The agent did not die, 7496 – KR did not harm anyone, and it did not escape.”
Han Seori shook her head with disdain.
“The report from beginning to end was detached from the truth. So why did the author of that report write it like that? I find that rather suspicious and think it needs to be properly investigated.”
As her argument unfolded, the group whose faces had turned pale began to stir.
The man whose face had turned almost as pale as that of the Jelly Girl looked around and stammered:
“Uh, maybe there was some kind of miscommunication—”
“Don’t spout nonsense. Anyway, a proper investigation will reveal the truth if there was indeed any miscommunication. Like how our agent is alive and 7496 – KR was successfully transported.”
The man who had been babbling about possible mishaps fell silent when the situation did not unfold as expected.
Around this time, armed agents, hearing the news of 7496 – KR’s appearance, entered the presentation venue and surrounded the researchers, including the pale-faced man.
Their stance was not to protect but rather to monitor them, ensuring no mischief.
It seemed like whoever allowed them in suspected something.
As Han Seori thought everything was going well, a person who seemed to be in charge climbed the stage and spoke:
“Is that truly 7496 – KR…? Is it really safe?”
The voice, filled with suspicion, made Han Seori sigh involuntarily as she picked up the Jelly Girl.
“…The misconception that 7496 – KR killed someone has been cleared, so now it’s time to show you that 7496 – KR is truly safe.”
Although Han Seori was speaking calmly, her insides were burning.
She thought of all the efforts put into asserting that 7496 – KR was safe and how it would now be used in such a situation.
Because she feared that something that took so much effort could collapse in an instant.
…Well, given that it’s a singularity, maybe it can’t be helped.
Shaking her head mentally, Han Seori glared at the surrounded individuals before looking at the Jelly Girl.
Since the Jelly Girl was looking at her with an uncertain expression,
Han Seori felt guilty towards her.
…Sorry.
I’ll buy you lots of snacks when we go back.
It was time to prove directly that the Jelly Girl was safe and friendly to humans.
In addition,
…That the Jelly Girl was a different kind of singularity than those that had appeared until now.
