As the Sphere returned to the room with the Jelly Girl, she noticed the Jellies gathered around the bed, watching TV.
Jelly Girl was momentarily tempted to switch the channel to the news but reminded herself that she wasn’t some evil mastermind.
After all, Jelly Girl also understood how bored the Jellies must have been while confined within the carrier.
Whoever might find joy in watching the outside world through a screen was probably limited to Jelly Girl herself.
Thus, Jelly Girl decided to leave the Jellies be as they huddled together watching their program.
Though her return home was immediately followed by the sight of the Jellies engrossed in TV, which irked some unnamed part of Jelly Girl, she suppressed such feelings knowing the Jellies were, after all, not actual children.
There was, in fact, another major reason behind Jelly Girl’s tolerance.
What had ultimately diverted Jelly Girl’s attention from the news channel, and therefore spared the Jellies, was none other than the Sphere—or rather, what the Sphere had now become.
Standing there with arms crossed and leaning to the side, Jelly Girl observed the Sphere with a peculiar feeling.
Perhaps it was strange for the Sphere, who normally cursed humans so often, to now take on a human-like form.
The form it had assumed was a peculiar blend of Hwang Bo-yul and Han Seori.
While it was undeniably attractive, someone familiar with either person would likely be quite unsettled by this hybrid appearance.
Perhaps it wasn’t the prettiness that was the problem, but the way this image faintly brushed against a valley of discomfort.
It was almost like encountering a deepfake video of a close friend—a strange, eerie sensation.
Anyway.
As Jelly Girl approached, she placed some jelly on the Sphere’s body.
Before the jelly made full contact, the sensation was odd, as if touching someone who resembled Han Seori and Hwang Bo-yul.
Once the jelly fully touched the Sphere’s body, Jelly Girl instinctively recoiled at its unnatural coldness.
“What, why is it so cold?”
As if sensing Jelly Girl’s thoughts, the Sphere responded with a slightly brusque tone.
“Surely you didn’t think I had become human, did you?”
I got tricked momentarily because it looked so real.
Embarrassed, Jelly Girl lifted her jelly away.
Revisiting the earlier conversation, it was evident that the Sphere’s body wasn’t human, considering something as fatal as a gunshot wound to the head.
Though there were strange exceptions to that rule, they were rare and could be ignored.
Nevertheless, the Sphere’s appearance was too realistic not to be deceived.
Shaking off her embarrassment, Jelly Girl placed the jelly again and inquired.
Why are you in this form?
More specifically, she asked why it resembled a mix of Hwang Bo-yul and Han Seori.
“In order to create an appearance yang Ha-na would find familiar, I collated the given data.”
The answer was cold yet considerate, prompting Jelly Girl to remove her jelly and look at the Sphere with surprise.
Though the response seemed a little twisted, it ultimately implied that this form was made for yang Ha-na.
Didn’t you hate humans?
What exactly happened that caused this change?
Yet, reflecting on it, this wasn’t completely bizarre—after all, the Sphere had shown unexpected openness to yang Ha-na, even if just marginally.
Though it was debatable whether this interaction alone could result in such a transformation, Jelly Girl conceded, knowing the Sphere was far beyond her comprehension.
Frankly, compared to the Sphere muttering “Humans, apes, inferior beings, die”, this current state seemed far better.
So, Jelly Girl inquired once again, placing jelly upon the Sphere:
Maybe… can you change into other forms? Personally, I don’t mind this form, but it might terrify others if they saw it.
There was no ulterior motive behind this question—Jelly Girl was simply worried that if the Sphere had to appear before others, this form might cause unnecessary panic.
If it became known as the offspring of Han Seori and Hwang Bo-yul, it could stir up quite a commotion.
Although there was no certainty the Sphere would maintain this appearance permanently, it was still an issue.
Acknowledging Jelly Girl’s implicit concern, the Sphere casually replied:
“I lack adequate data to assume other forms. I didn’t arbitrarily borrow the appearances of these two entities.”
So, you really have changed.
The thought brought to mind works where machines and humans forged beautiful friendships.
But quickly shaking the jelly, Jelly Girl dismissed the notion, remembering that in such stories, the machines’ newfound ‘hearts’ usually didn’t end well.
Looking at the Sphere’s thin frame, it wasn’t far-fetched to think the same might happen here.
Still, if we could supply it with enough data…
But in a place where the only people were Han Seori, Hwang Bo-yul, Kim Cheon-soo, and yang Ha-na, how—
Lost in slight perplexity, Jelly Girl’s jelly picked up a sound from the TV:
[Did your friends brush their teeth? Brushing is very important after meals!]
…Do they really find that entertaining?
The lack of tantrums about brushing seemed questionable, but then again, maybe…
Maybe I just don’t like watching the news?
…No, that must not be it.
Amidst these mixed thoughts, Jelly Girl suddenly perked up, shaking her knowledge pouch as she pulled on the Sphere’s cold hand.
She sat the Sphere down on the bed and seized the remote control that was tightly held by Daesik’s doll.
“Hey, that’s my remote!”
As if echoing the same thought, Daesik abruptly stood up, alarmed.
Defending Jung-sik and Sosik from the “evil” Jelly Girl, Daesik clung to Jelly Girl’s legs, determined to protect the remote.
Jelly Girl couldn’t help feeling odd—like she was the villain stealing a child from a desperate parent.
Perhaps through their constant bickering, the Jellies had learned that Jelly Girl wouldn’t stop regardless.
After all, no one stood a chance against her physically.
Jelly Girl, gripping the remote with jelly, glanced down at Daesik.
If that doll’s face had any expression, would it have been crying?
Thankfully, it wasn’t, which made Jelly Girl feel slightly better.
I didn’t take the remote to torment you guys, anyway.
Jelly Girl realized her simple plan.
If it lacked data, then providing more would solve the issue.
What better way than the TV’s endless parade of attractive, accomplished human faces?
Modern shows featured a broader range, but even so, there were valuable inputs that could be stored in case they ever traveled elsewhere.
Jelly Girl absentmindedly played with her jelly, feeling a slight tinge of regret.
A computer and internet would have been ideal for acquiring broader information.
It wasn’t out of longing to create a form resembling her ideal type or favorite character.
Regardless, Jelly Girl explained her plan to the Sphere and began ruthlessly flipping through the channels.
Jung-sik and Sosik, who had been transfixed on the screen, suddenly jolted in surprise and rushed toward Jelly Girl in a frenzy.
Clang! Clang!
Of course, Jung-sik was the most aggressive, but after repeatedly battling the monstrous Singularity and surviving, this hardly fazed Jelly Girl.
What truly affected her was Sosik.
The sleepy, drowsy face that silently stared at her was almost a form of psychic attack.
But Jelly Girl had her own cause, so she continued flipping through channels, her jelly clenched in determination.
The small Jellies’ resistance had no effect on her.
You should have gone to work if you wanted to avoid this fate.
She didn’t entertain any dangerous ideas like that.
Possibly, this channel-surfing session with the Sphere persisted for quite some time.
…Despite the Sphere never uttering a word of objection.
*
“Dead?”
“Yes, yes….”
In the darkness, the agitated male voice prompted a pale woman to weakly nod.
She had been the one behind the recent attacks on the Sphere and Yang Ha-na.
Her face suggested lingering horror from the emptiness felt when the male figure had perished.
“What of the results?”
But that seemed irrelevant to the cold voice in the darkness, which pressed on with questioning.
Trembling, the woman fumbled with her lips as if carefully contemplating her answer before weakly responding.
“…Nothing.”
Expecting some dire reprimand, the woman braced herself for the worst. However, the reply she received carried an unexpected tone of satisfaction.
“All the better. Incompetence occasionally proves useful.”
“…What?”
“You are dismissed.”
“…Yes.”
Caught off guard by this unexpected dialogue, the woman hesitated before turning away.
Unable to discern how to react, she left with a troubled, complex expression on her face.
Staring after the closing door, the something in the darkness chuckled.
So, it’s safe to assume that the door for conversation remains open?
The something in the darkness appeared to be dreaming of a rosy future.
It was a laugh of a madman.
