The news streaming on the large screen was undeniably odd. The more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed, a feeling that wouldn’t go away no matter how much I tried to dismiss it.
It felt like someone had just taken an internet hoax or trending story dressed up as news and thrown it onto the web.
The reported news was absurd to such a degree that it bordered on the ridiculous. Something like a monster sighting at a long-forgotten foreign lake—surely nowadays, fewer and fewer people even remember such places.
Especially since someone later admitted to fabricating the story using miniature models, which only confirmed that there was, in fact, no real monster in that place.
Of course, there were previous records of similar monster sightings, but those seemed highly likely to be cases of mistaken identity. Just like, before the advancement of science, people attributed sudden natural phenomena to the anger of the gods.
It seemed clear to me that, ever since smartphones became common, reports of such sightings had drastically decreased. This strongly implied that the sightings were mere illusions, combined with poor-quality filming and deliberate manipulation, creating these mythical monsters.
And yet, despite all that, here it was again. Not just as a meme shared on the internet but as actual news coverage—albeit somewhat light-hearted—which made the whole thing even more perplexing.
If it was significant enough to make headlines in our country, it must have really made waves overseas.
At this point, the internet—which I couldn’t access now—must be abuzz with chatter about it.
But then, thinking that I couldn’t take part in the online festivities brought me down a little. Still, I had to remind myself that just being able to read about it at all was something worth appreciating. After all, I had been playing around with toys just after being captured by Han Seori.
Still, even so.
Based on this news alone, I might have suspected that someone, somewhere, had once again made an attempt to deceive the public with a sophisticated miniature model and had vanished without confessing to the deception.
However, there were other strange reports, like the Terracotta Warriors appearing randomly outside of their designated underground tomb.
Perhaps it was only a few traces in a country that loves control. Maybe it wasn’t just a fabrication (wasn’t there something like a foundation where Han Seori worked in other countries as well?), but rather a legitimate story: that the Terracotta Warriors were emerging from Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s tomb to clash with ancient statues.
Maybe Qin Shi Huang, having awakened from a deep slumber, decided to create more because of his undying affection for China.
Such an absurd thought made the dopamine-inducing excitement of jelly feel palpable.
But how could I dismiss such an idea? There were real entities—like the ones I had encountered—and the world wasn’t so easily explained by common sense anymore.
Even I, for all my faults, fit into this strange category.
Even so, there was something troubling amidst the amusement. Back when I was human, I would have been the type of person who would have gone hunting for such mysteries. But why weren’t those things revealing themselves to me back then, and why now—why are such things showing up on the news?
If you think about it, these kinds of stories seem almost familiar, to the point that most people would laugh them off.
The same went for the news I’d seen.
If a Terracotta Army had risen up to kill people, it wouldn’t be considered an overseas curiosity—it would already have been announced by the government.
So, in other words, it’s still manageable at a laughable level. “Isn’t this all just fabricated? Why is everyone making such a fuss?” The feeling was unmistakable.
But from my perspective—as someone who existed in this strange world—it seemed suspicious.
The sudden exposure of something that had been hidden until now suggested some sort of problem. Although it felt dangerous, its distance—both geographic and cultural—meant it didn’t feel entirely real.
That led me to a new question.
Why wasn’t this a story from our country? Is it because these kinds of news don’t get covered overseas? Or perhaps it was featured while I wasn’t watching?
Or maybe the ‘Foundation’ in our country was simply more capable than others abroad…
It was a somewhat reasonable assumption, given that this land had been called a place where nothing but humans existed in ancient times. Though the treatment they received was abysmal, they still existed.
The question wasn’t whether they’d vanish someday… but the certainty that they would.
Still, the fact that these issues didn’t directly involve me made them oddly enjoyable. This is why people (or perhaps beings like me) should watch the news—it’s how we stay entertained. Where else would I find such entertaining stories?
So, every day, I diligently checked the news, searching diligently for the next exciting story.
And then, not much later, I began to suspect why such stories weren’t appearing in our country.
*
A little while later.
As Han Seori absently stroked my head, I stared blankly at some jelly bubbles. Sensing my troubled mood, she spoke in an awkward tone.
“I’m sorry I can’t come with you. There’s just so much to handle here…”
What was she talking about?
Even if she came, my mood wouldn’t improve. While she was drinking her kimchi broth, I scanned the area around me. Familiar faces mingled with unfamiliar ones.
One of them was Lee Yoo-jin, who was now recovered enough to walk around. Thanks to Kim Cheon-soo’s attentive care, despite the bandages that still covered her, it was clear she was in better health.
It was a clear reminder of how important proper care and nutrition were. Something that might not have much significance for me anymore.
Still, seeing Yoo-jin’s face was comforting. The unfamiliar face, however, was harder to categorize. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. Seeing a stranger wasn’t unusual, but the idea of following them didn’t spark any joy either.
Particularly, the thought of going to work was incredibly off-putting. Why was I being asked to handle work when I’d been sitting idly just moments ago? It seemed like this was all because Han Seori had been pulled away during her visit to Yoo-jin, thanks to this same stranger.
“Hm, you look as grumpy as a granddaughter who’s been scolded.”
An aged-looking man, whose silver hair eclipsed his dark locks, chuckled softly while his fingers fidgeted. His expression seemed genuinely paternal, evoking warmth, but the thought that he was the one who had dragged me out of bed left me feeling less than thrilled.
Seemingly detecting this instantly, the man shifted uncomfortably and stepped back. Beside him, Hwang Bo-yul smirked.
…Ah, I didn’t want to go to work.
Up until recently, I’d been enjoying the humorous antics of overseas news, but now, it seemed that the responsibility had been handed back to me.
To clarify, it wasn’t about going abroad to handle foreign incidents. Instead, it was about dealing with a new domestic one, much like the old days.
By this point, it occurred to me that perhaps the reason such things never appeared on our news was… simply because I existed?
Of course, the compact size of our country also played a part.
But why were there so many ‘singularities’ forming in this small landmass, especially new ones, instead of the original ones?
Is the Earth in trouble?
I had a growing suspicion that something was amiss, but it wasn’t as if I had any tangible means to address it.
The only thing I could do was to go on these trips and attempt to resolve any issues as they arose.
…Not too long ago, this seemed like an enjoyable task, but why did it feel this way now? Perhaps I’d once made some firm resolution, but it had long since fled from my mind like jelly.
What could I do?
Isn’t there a saying about how going into the bathroom and coming out changes something? It wasn’t without merit.
Still, the thought that my involvement could prevent unnecessary deaths did evoke a sense of duty.
Ah…
Is this why they say turning your hobby into work makes you dislike it? Whoever said that might’ve been right—it was starting to resonate with me.
While I muttered under my breath, Kim Cheon-soo appeared with a familiar carry-on, which was promptly handed to Hwang Bo-yul. Once again, it was Hwang Bo-yul who would take me outside.
As she opened the carry-on—“toc, toc”—an interior surprisingly cozy greeted me.
If I had to compare, the last one felt like a small car, whereas this one seemed more akin to a spacious camping van.
Though I wasn’t in the condition to eat or need to use the restroom, it was clear that someone had put a lot of thought into it.
Hmm…
Her effort was appreciated, though it wouldn’t completely assuage my discontent. Still, who would refuse a free upgrade in transportation?
A vehicle… or should I say a rickshaw?
No, calling it a rickshaw might bring too much good fortune. Let’s call it a carriage instead.
In any case…
Though I loaded the carriage with a few members of my jelly army, there was a feeling of injustice I couldn’t shake off.
Daesik wasn’t included this time because he’d already ventured into the Singularity with me, but why were the others living the life I aspired to?
It was unjust. Unjust, but… the decision had already been made to send me along with a few jellies this time.
Next time, I will bring at least one of them.
With that resolve, I boarded the comfortable carriage.
“Are we leaving now?”
“…Yes, we are.”
Above me, the voices of Hwang Bo-yul and the old man overlapped. The respectful tone of her voice suggested a long-standing relationship between them.
…Not that it mattered much.
And so, once again, I set off toward the unknown. The fact that I didn’t have to walk myself made the situation slightly more tolerable.
