The day the man reverted to being just a man right in front of Yang Ha-na’s eyes.
At that time, the Sphere had felt a slight sense of unease.
Firstly, retaliating after being attacked was good.
However, the fact that it had allowed the attack in the first place still lingered, and the Sphere felt something akin to discomfort.
What made things even more irksome was that because it had been hit by the man, its vision had been reduced by about half.
Under normal circumstances, simply taking a hit wouldn’t have impaired its sight like this. But because it had assumed a humanoid form, it couldn’t help it—it was inconvenient and inefficient.
The Sphere decided it was time to return to its original form and began tidying up the area.
It first inspected the man, who had now become just a body.
He no longer breathed. The warmth that once radiated from him was now fading, turning cold.
Silently examining the man’s body, the Sphere discovered what seemed to be a camera and transmitter and disabled them.
Though unclear of their significance yet, the Sphere made sure not to leave anything behind.
Additionally, the Sphere collected various other items from the man’s body.
A gun that had clearly been used to shoot it, along with a few bullets.
A small chocolate bar that looked to have high calories.
A strange-smelling bandage; whatever was on it didn’t seem to be blood.
This was proof, without a doubt, that the man had set a trap to lure someone.
There’s quite a bit to gather.
Having taken all the useful things from the man’s possession, the Sphere, now with no lingering concerns, summoned a small steel snake pod to handle the remains.
Moments later, the mini steel snake pod arrived with a small vibration and enveloped the man’s remains inside it.
It could potentially emerge from the steel tube if necessary, but otherwise, it seemed this thing would never see sunlight again.
Not that there was much reason for it to see the sun anymore anyway.
Thus, having erased all traces of the man, the Sphere turned to look at Yang Ha-na still crouched on the floor, trembling.
Her present demeanor bore no resemblance to how she usually was.
Her lips, which were always smiling, were now twisted as if they couldn’t digest something, and her usually well-arched eyes brimmed with tears.
The Sphere silently observed this changed Yang Ha-na.
Witnessing her in such a state felt like a malfunctioning storage device sputtering.
The Sphere couldn’t understand why Yang Ha-na was still like this.
The cause has been removed, so why isn’t she returning to normal?
Even though the man, the cause, was gone, why was she still like this?
Since Yang Ha-na wasn’t a machine, the Sphere couldn’t fix her like one. So, it attempted to analyze why she had become like this.
Perhaps she’s shocked that her goodwill turned into malice. Yeah, that’s likely.
Even after concluding this, the Sphere still didn’t know how to restore her to her normal self.
Nevertheless, it couldn’t stay here indefinitely, so it summoned another steel snake pod and placed Yang Ha-na inside it.
This time, the mini steel snake was being used as a mode of transportation, not a container.
Yang Ha-na didn’t react much to the Sphere’s actions. She just wobbled in and collapsed inside the steel snake.
Perhaps, deep down, she wanted to leave the place where the man had died.
If so, it was fortunate for the Sphere. Having erased Yang Ha-na’s traces from this spot, it boarded the pod that had taken her.
The mini steel snake then set off to return to the laboratory.
During the journey back, Yang Ha-na didn’t say a word.
She just blankly stared at the floor.
Even after returning to the lab, Yang Ha-na’s condition showed no signs of improvement.
If anything, it worsened.
Yang Ha-na, who had always loved eating, now kept vomiting everything she ate.
She seemed confused and distressed, clearly not doing it intentionally.
The same applied to her sleep.
Yang Ha-na’s face, overwhelmed by fatigue, would fall asleep only to jolt awake suddenly, as though startled by nightmares.
The Sphere carefully observed each of her actions, witnessing her progressively weaken. But it had no idea what to do.
It didn’t understand what it was supposed to do for someone like her.
The most it could do was monitor her health status and suggest corresponding solutions—not that it seemed particularly meaningful.
It was futile advice to tell someone who kept vomiting that they should consume nutritious food.
Regardless, seeing Yang Ha-na’s condition deteriorating, the Sphere decided to delay returning to its original spherical form.
It was better to at least retain a human appearance, it thought.
It would be ideal if the humans left behind returned, but since it was unclear when that would happen, this decision was made.
With a conclusion that maintaining humanlike form might be beneficial for Yang Ha-na, who enjoyed mingling with others and even Jelly Girls, it proceeded.
Though the Sphere was somewhat close to the right answer, it couldn’t go further.
“…I wish I could too.”
Upon hearing Yang Ha-na’s feeble voice, the Sphere turned away without comment.
Its exquisitely beautiful face—seemingly a combination of Han Seori and Hwang Bo-yul—remained emotionless.
The Sphere felt a curious sense of unease.
If it stayed like this, Yang Ha-na might really die.
Unaware that its line of thought was peculiar, the Sphere headed toward the kitchen.
It was best to at least make her eat something.
Arriving in the kitchen, the Sphere reviewed the storage device’s data and found records of Yang Ha-na’s favorite foods.
Is this it?
Opening the refrigerator after identifying it, the Sphere checked the data for Kim Cheon-soo’s cooking style to verify if it could replicate the dish. It pulled out all the ingredients it judged would suffice as substitutes, meticulously following Kim Cheon-soo’s exacting preparation methods.
Precise knife work.
Perfect temperature control.
Delicate plating that felt almost artificial.
The food was so well-prepared it almost seemed a pity to eat it, steaming hot.
As the Sphere looked for a tray to carry the food to Yang Ha-na and glanced at its reflection in the mirror, it paused.
The Sphere’s face had naturally taken on the features of Han Seori and Hwang Bo-yul since it had very few other female faces in its data banks.
Anyone who saw it might assume it was their offspring.
The Sphere gazed at its own face for a while.
After all, this wasn’t its real form. If it reached out to touch its face, it would feel cold steel.
Swiping its hand, the steel surface disguised as a face would dissipate, revealing cold, hard steel beneath.
When the Sphere removed its hand, the cold steel would vanish, replaced by a lifelike face once more.
As it stared at this face, the memory of Jin’s face surfaced in its storage device.
Jin, when handing over food, always had a smiling face. It was as if sharing food genuinely brought him joy.
Even when grumbling while passing pudding to the Jelly Girl, Jin watched her hastily devour it with a satisfied smile.
…Hmm.
Perhaps that’s important.
Facing the mirror, the Sphere attempted to craft a smile, mimicking the stored images of smiles from others.
Interestingly, the created smile seemed decent.
After all, it wasn’t moving actual facial muscles, so there was no difficulty in creating the smile.
But something was still off.
Jin’s smile when serving food.
Yang Ha-na’s smiles to others and toward the Sphere.
Han Seori’s smile when welcoming the Jelly Girl.
The odd smile Hwang Bo-yul occasionally gave to the Jelly Girl.
Although the smiles looked the same, they seemed somehow different.
Despite recognizing this, the Sphere couldn’t pinpoint what the issue was. Thus, it concluded it had done enough and carried the food to Yang Ha-na’s room.
Gently opening the door, the Sphere found Yang Ha-na lying on the bed, her blurred gaze meeting its own.
She blinked, clearly surprised by the Sphere’s presence with the food.
The Sphere approached her with the smile it had just practiced.
“I’ve brought something you like. Please consume it.”
“…”
Though the Sphere had managed to prepare the food and the smile, it didn’t realize there was an issue with its tone.
But then…
As the Sphere spoke, Yang Ha-na weakly smiled and lifted herself from her seat.
“…You know what’s really strange?”
Murmuring with her feeble voice, she glanced at the food the Sphere had brought, sighed softly, and picked up the spoon.
“…This is really what I like.”
How did it know?
Yang Ha-na placed the food in her mouth, feeling a vague sensation of something rising from her stomach but resolutely suppressing it as she swallowed the Sphere’s creation.
It was unclear what she was thinking.
The Sphere felt an indescribable emotion as it watched Yang Ha-na consume the food.
A smile appeared on its face, feeling more natural than before, though nobody was there to witness it.
*
“Hmm.”
As Han Seori stepped out of her room for breakfast, she noticed something unusual beneath her feet and bent down to inspect it.
She saw a memo paper with a footprint on it.
The memo had a light message requesting a meeting.
…Who could it be?
Had the person who had troubled her earlier today still not had enough?
She then felt a headache coming on and sensed a strange discomfort.
Realizing someone who had troubled her earlier likely wouldn’t request a meeting in such a manner, she reattached her Jelly Girl and gathered other Jelly units into her carrier.
She decided to meet up with her group.
She intended to discuss the message with them.
She already suspected who it might be, but anything could happen, so she wanted to hear different opinions—it was important.
