The scene that unfolded before Han Seori’s eyes was certainly one that could be called tragic, but thanks to its surreal elements, it lacked a sense of reality.
After all, it wasn’t every day one would witness a scene where all the furniture, including the TV, was completely destroyed by a giant doll, with the people around it looking utterly restless.
Especially, accidents (?) so closely tied to daily life were not something she, even as someone affiliated with “the Foundation,” would commonly come across.
To begin with, it was questionable whether this could even be called “management” in the first place. It was far removed from what management meant to her.
Well, perhaps somewhere unknown to her, there were other Singularities managed in a similar fashion, but Han Seori thought Lime was exceptionally special.
Even if similar, surely there would be a lot of differences.
That’s why she couldn’t help but smile at the everyday mishap. It wasn’t like a mere cat—how had such an accident happened the moment she turned her eyes away?
Still, how did things get this way?
As she stroked her chin and approached the group with Lime, her eyes caught sight of a small doll limply hanging from Lime’s hand. Although it was clearly a doll she’d never seen before, it gave her a strange sense of familiarity.
On closer inspection, it resembled the doll that had fallen and caused the surrounding chaos. It looked similar to the doll she had gifted (?) to Lime.
Could it be that Daesik had attempted to move his body and ended up causing an accident? Hmm, that’s a possibility.
She could have simply asked, but Han Seori enjoyed the process of deducing what happened. She, too, had little else to enjoy here.
Considering various possibilities as she approached, Han Seori smiled in satisfaction upon realizing her initial guess was correct.
“I still haven’t lost my touch.”
While congratulating herself, upon noticing the gloomy Jelly, she awkwardly laughed and spoke.
“Replacement items will be brought soon, so please don’t be too sad—”
At her words, Sosik, who had seemed forever devoid of motivation, suddenly turned his head, and Daesik, who had been hanging limply in Lime’s hand, quickly raised his face. Though it was a scene that might’ve made the faint-hearted pass out, by now it only seemed amusing and endearing to her.
“Wow, even he can show such a joyful expression.”
As Han Seori silently nodded at Sosik’s face, Yang Ha-na, who was by her side, suddenly jumped and exclaimed.
“Um, is this really okay? Then, what do we do with… these?”
“What else? Shouldn’t we discard them?”
“Ah…”
Yang Ha-na, who had anxiously wondered whether she should ask Han Seori directly, looked at her with a troubled expression, but Han Seori couldn’t fathom why Yang Ha-na had such a look.
Perhaps she was merely disheartened by the accident, so Han Seori lightly patted her on the shoulder, signaling it wasn’t a big deal, then turned her attention to Lime. When Lime caught her eye and pointed at herself, Han Seori once again smiled warmly and nodded approvingly.
Understanding each other without words — this was what that meant, wasn’t it? Clearly, the bond between her and Lime ran deeper.
For no particular reason, she thought of Lee Yoo-jin, then shook her head and held out her arms toward Lime. In response, Lime placed Daesik down, approached her with a slightly flustered look, and embraced her.
See? Lime likes me more, after all.
With that unnecessary competitive spirit flaring up, Han Seori hugged Lime comfortably before turning to Yang Ha-na.
“Um, I have some business to attend to, so can I leave the cleanup to you?”
“Absolutely! You can count on me!”
“…Well, I suppose.”
Despite the playful smile that lit up her face as Lime clung to her, Han Seori’s expression suddenly became hesitant. Doubts arose in her mind: could she really entrust Yang Ha-na with cleaning up this mess?
Formally, it wasn’t entirely Yang Ha-na’s fault, but the giant doll collapsing did happen because she had created it, didn’t it?
However, her worries quickly vanished when she noticed Ki Hyang standing by Yang Ha-na, observing the broken debris.
With Ki Hyang around, there’s no need to worry.
After all, this was just about clearing up the debris, not handling anything dangerous.
What could possibly go wrong?
Having reached a conclusion, Han Seori gave Yang Ha-na a light, reassuring smile. Her expression brimming with trust made Yang Ha-na clench her fists firmly.
“Then, I’ll leave it to you.”
“Yes!”
Upon hearing Yang Ha-na’s strong affirmation, Han Seori turned around with peace of mind.
Although it wasn’t because she was worried about Yang Ha-na, since Ki Hyang’s current state was likely largely due to her, she could also say that ultimately, she owed her peace of mind to Yang Ha-na.
Hmm, now that I think about it… the relationship between these two could also serve as a good example?
While it was still premature to make such judgments, Han Seori filed that thought away as she exited the hangar with Lime in her arms.
Through the corner of her eye, she saw Ki Hyang approach the broken TV, but Han Seori, holding Lime, didn’t notice.
*
Of course, Han Seori’s next destination was the room where Lee Yoo-jin was staying.
In truth, her fate had already been decided.
Though the word “punishment” might evoke a somewhat ominous feeling, it was still a punishment. After looking into it, Han Seori believed that Director Yoo Gang-jik — who had formerly supervised her research lab — had probably handled the situation appropriately.
The actions of the (former) lab director had been uncovered, and it was officially recognized that Lee Yoo-jin’s current state wasn’t her fault; essentially, the incident was treated as if it never happened.
But since the individual in question had disappeared, it looked like the matter was simply concluded. Lee Yoo-jin had been sent to a rather ominous place due to disciplinary actions, and she’d heard that such cases frequently occurred there.
Thus, it was understandable to assume she might be dead.
In reality, the (former) director had probably sent her there with that intention.
…That bastard. He kept delegating responsibilities to me while always wandering around somewhere. If I had known he was doing such things, I should have realized it sooner.
Thinking that way, Han Seori felt partially responsible for Lee Yoo-jin’s current predicament. Had she moved more quickly, Lee Yoo-jin wouldn’t have ended up in that group of middle-schoolers.
Still, thanks to that, Han Seori had learned various stories about “the group” from Lee Yoo-jin.
And felt disappointed.
Was there really anything to look forward to?
Reflecting on the fragmented stories she had heard about the group from various sources, Han Seori had suspected they might share similar views—perhaps even more radical and violent, but still aiming in the same direction as her.
They seemed to desire a world where Singularities were free… where they could coexist with humans, after all.
But according to Lee Yoo-jin’s account, reality was quite different from Han Seori’s expectations.
While some people there certainly held such beliefs, the place seemed more like an alternate side of “the Foundation,” darker, grimmer, filled with terrifying things.
And as Lee Yoo-jin mentioned, some individuals felt compelled to depend on it, so perhaps it wasn’t entirely a terrible place, but in Han Seori’s eyes, it was even worse than that.
Hence, she breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t followed up when they had initiated contact to meet.
Had she ignorantly gone there back then, not only herself but also Kim Cheon-soo, Hwang Bo-yul, and even Yang Ha-na might have ended up like Lee Yoo-jin.
And if that happened, it was clear what would become of Lime.
Her Lime, who loved her, would likely choose not to stay within the Foundation but to follow her.
…Maybe that was their goal.
Chills ran down Han Seori’s spine at the thought, and she confirmed once again how fortunate it was that she hadn’t gone back then.
Another unclear point came to mind, but with her arrival at the room, she decided to think about it later as she opened the door and stepped inside.
“Ah… Are you here? Um… Wasn’t it, Lime? You came with her today.”
“Yes. Anyway, are you feeling any better?”
“…Thanks to your concern.”
Watching Lee Yoo-jin, who still seemed bewildered, Han Seori furrowed her brow. Seeing how awkward she seemed just because someone was taking care of her reminded her how arduous Lee Yoo-jin’s journey must have been, making her heart ache.
One of the reasons Han Seori had brought Lime was to help Lee Yoo-jin. Since they had built a connection inside the Singularity, Lee Yoo-jin often inquired about Lime’s well-being.
Thus… wouldn’t it be appropriate for her, the human closest to Lime, to extend some grace?
If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be much different from that “group” of middle schoolers.
“Long time no see… How have you been?”
As Han Seori awkwardly exchanged words and gestures with the two, she felt a strange sensation.
Should I have brought Ki Hyang along? No, it’s too early to decide anything without hearing a definite response.
It wasn’t because she wanted to prevent Lee Yoo-jin and Lime from communicating verbally.
Seriously, it wasn’t.
Hmph.
Han Seori cautiously cleared her throat lightly after observing the two playing together for a while, then carefully spoke up.
“Are you really alright with staying here? If you’d prefer, I can assist you with memory alteration and reintegrating into society.”
At her question, Lee Yoo-jin’s hand, which had been fidgeting with Lime’s hands, stopped. With a somber expression, she quietly responded.
“It’s like… erasing who I am. And… I don’t want to forget my memories of this child. So… if you’d give me a chance to start anew here, I’d be grateful.”
“Is that so?”
There would be no major problems.
After all, her original self was technically considered dead.
…Yang Ha-na had accepted it, so what could prevent her from doing the same?
Besides, the human Lime cared for didn’t seem like a bad person. Lime had pretty good instincts.
“Alright, then let’s do it that way.”
“…Thank you.”
While the two exchanged slightly awkward greetings…
The door opened, and Kim Cheon-soo stumbled inside.
Han Seori felt a strange sense of unease.
