Creak.
The previously still ground began to tremble, and a mini steel-snake port, which had now become a familiar sight, emerged from the soil.
The doors of the port, caked with dirt and tightly shut, opened, revealing Ki Hyang.
Ki Hyang had never imagined that there would come a day when she would ride alone inside the port.
She wondered what the purpose was if she was going to end up running away.
Lazy humans.
Despite that cynicism, she couldn’t help but feel somehow pleased that she was trusted, though her emotions were still a complicated mix.
How had she ended up doing errands for humans?
Even though it was at Lime’s request with the highest authority, it only happened because Lime herself couldn’t go. Thus, this was all due to the humans.
Ki Hyang felt like puffing hot steam from her rigid, cold mouth.
To Ki Hyang, already feeling a sense of repulsion (?) toward humans, the emotions of joy and excitement she had once experienced now brought only negative feelings.
Emotions, after all, aren’t always positive. Perhaps it couldn’t be helped.
Without knowing it, Ki Hyang’s face had taken on a pout similar to Lime’s, but she quickly cooled down the inexplicable heat in a module.
Her face, which had been showing signs of irritation, returned to its emotionless, cold state. Still, it retained an air of cuteness, being somewhat reminiscent of Lime.
Anyway,
After confirming her surroundings with a blank expression, Ki Hyang closed the open door of the port and sent it back underground. By her command, the port disappeared completely, as if it had never been there.
Her mission was to verify the contents of the box inside. Considering this, leaving the port outside might have been more efficient. Even though the port was fast, it still took time for it to reemerge.
The old Ki Hyang, from the days when she was referred to as Sphere, might have done just that. In fact, the probability was high that she would have.
Since verifying the box and returning quickly was the most effective method.
Which means the current Ki Hyang wouldn’t do that.
The new and evolved Ki Hyang judged that taking such risks was unnecessary.
She thought that even if it slowed her down slightly, exercising caution was the best option.
Ki Hyang worried about suspicious individuals tampering with the open port while she was checking the box.
Thinking of the incident when she went out with Yang Ha-na, she judged that such underhanded tricks would not be unusual.
While she was confident that she could detect anything the incompetent ones might try, there was still a possibility of something slipping through unnoticed if it wasn’t registered in her data.
Her confidence was good, but complacency was not. Such mistakes were typical of humans.
If she let her guard down and missed something due to inattention, the others at the lab, particularly Yang Ha-na and the top authority, would be in danger.
Thinking about the possibility of the highest authority, Lime, being in danger, Ki Hyang ran a simulation.
The simulation showed there was no need to worry about the top authority.
Yang Ha-na, however, would be in danger.
Thus, after burying the port underground, Ki Hyang lightly scanned the area to check for other living creatures.
Except for some insect-like responses, there were no other significant reactions. Satisfied with this, Ki Hyang dissolved her human appearance, blending into the surroundings.
Not exactly invisible, but from a distance, it would look like something was rippling—almost as if one could hear someone whispering “can’t see me.”
In this semi-camouflaged state, Ki Hyang walked towards the box at neither a fast nor slow pace.
Even upon reaching the box, Ki Hyang remained vigilant.
According to the human books she had read, the time just before achieving your objective is the most dangerous.
But her caution ended up being futile.
The box in front of Ki Hyang was just a plain ordinary box.
Though a bit sturdy for an ordinary box, it seemed designed to protect what was inside rather than being some sort of trick.
What’s the purpose?
Ki Hyang’s data on the organization called “Call of Twilight” was insufficient.
The ones she had encountered were nothing but foolish individuals who had attacked her without knowing any better and died.
Without a doubt, Ki Hyang thought opening the box wasn’t necessary.
Those types were unlikely to suddenly propose peace with a gift.
Still, she thought it might be better to discard or ignore it.
However, since the top authority, Lime, wanted the contents to be checked, Ki Hyang extended her hardened hand, now harmonized with her surroundings, toward the box.
Click. Squeak.
The flimsy lock, almost unworthy of the title, clicked open, and the box, with a weighty sound, opened.
Ki Hyang stepped back as she opened the box, assuming there could be an explosion, but nothing happened. The box just laid open, silent and unthreatening.
Indeed, it just seemed like a regular box.
Inside, however…
What is this?
Something unfamiliar to Ki Hyang sat inside.
As she stared at it, she noticed a bright piece of paper.
The bright paper carried a message written by hand, presumably with great care, filled to the brim with text.
Ki Hyang, whose eyes weren’t blurry, read it meticulously. Simplifying and removing the eloquent phrases, it read:
“I sincerely apologize for what happened before. It was unintentional. Moreover, I believe we share the same view. This is a token of goodwill for what occurred then. Handle it as you wish.”
Ki Hyang didn’t understand what exactly this meant after summarizing the contents.
Though she understood the meaning of the sentences, her data lacked enough context to fully comprehend it.
It was likely a message addressed to Han Seori.
I should take this back with me.
Since there were no apparent oddities in the note, Ki Hyang tucked it away in her body, planning to show it to Han Seori later.
The best course of action would have been to confirm it there, but unfortunately, since communication had been disconnected, there seemed to be no way around it.
Disconnecting communication might have been unnecessary, but it only showed how sincere Ki Hyang was about this mission.
Anyway.
The next thing to inspect was the mysterious item the note had been placed on.
This must be the “token of goodwill” from whoever wrote the note.
What sort of item could this be, an apology for the attempt to kill someone (even if that someone wasn’t human)?
To Ki Hyang, Yang Ha-na’s injury was the greater event, but this certainly seemed suspicious.
Carefully, Ki Hyang removed the item from the box.
It looked like a little pizza box.
Though in structure it resembled one, it wasn’t truly a pizza box. It bore an atmosphere one might expect from ancient ruins.
Even without sufficient data, Ki Hyang instinctively knew this wasn’t an ordinary item.
Could such goodwill be contained in this?
Ki Hyang’s curiosity was piqued but decided to set it aside for now and first check for any suspicious reactions.
As she did so, her curiosity deepened.
Even with her abilities, Ki Hyang couldn’t clearly discern what was inside.
Though absent from her data, according to her judgment, this was likely what humans referred to as “Singularity.”
There was no other plausible explanation for the situation.
Indeed.
Hmm…
Ki Hyang was somehow displeased even with this assumption.
But instead of grumbling, she confirmed the empty box from which she had removed what was suspected to be a singularity.
The box elicited a smirk from Ki Hyang, though not out of joy but rather mockery.
Sure enough.
Now that it was an empty box, it revealed a double bottom.
When Ki Hyang lifted it, a small device, assumed to be a transmitter, was stuck underneath.
Given that it appeared to be transmitting signals somewhere, it was quite certain.
Ki Hyang quickly crushed it with her sturdy finger. From her perspective, it was a shabby mechanism that shattered with a crackling sound.
Still, there was an odd sensation gnawing at her.
Ki Hyang stared at the box for a moment before kicking it hard with her steel foot.
With a thunderous “clang,” the box was sent flying far away, wailing mournfully as it was cast aside.
Though the danger had been removed, there was no real need for this.
But as Ki Hyang watched the box get flattened and bounce around…
“…”
It felt…
Refreshing?
Anyway, the box was unnecessary, so bringing this thing back should be enough.
Strangely, her mood improved.
The unpleasantness caused by the human request seemed to have disappeared.
Observing the poorly tumbling box, Ki Hyang returned to where the steel-snake port had emerged.
Calling it back, she brought the suspected Singularity, the note, and returned to the lab.
Ki Hyang believed she had removed all the dangers and retrieved the item and had completed her task.
Thus, returning in triumph, Ki Hyang said,
“…No, did you not mean to bring that?”
“…Did I bring something I shouldn’t have?”
“Because the intent wasn’t clear. Anyway, why was the communication cut off? Was there some reason behind it?”
It seemed her return wasn’t entirely triumphant but rather an inglorious one.
Though the situation was odd, since she had retrieved the item, Han Seori’s question caught Ki Hyang slightly off guard, and she responded in a low voice.
“…I wanted to take every possible precaution.”
“Wouldn’t that have been noticed by the cameras anyway if we were spotted?”
“…Yes, you’re right.”
Ki Hyang realized she had been overly cautious.
But she thought it couldn’t be helped.
While it might not have been necessary for safety, it still felt justified.
…Why did I go that far?
This new module must be clouding my judgment.
Ki Hyang inwardly shook her head.
As she said nothing, Han Seori sighed and checked the items and note Ki Hyang had brought back.
The note carried a carefully written nonsense, so it didn’t matter much.
However, what Ki Hyang brought back seemed to indeed be a Singularity.
Something she had heard was long lost appeared in her memory.
And Lime’s antennae were twitching towards the thing Ki Hyang had brought back.
…What should I do with this now?
Han Seori glanced at Lime with a slightly troubled expression.
Would Lime be disappointed if I suggested returning it?
What should I do…?
Han Seori plunged into deep thought with a serious face.
Unaware that she had grown more cautious compared to her old self.
Hwang Bo-yul, watching from behind, gently shook her head.
