Thud, thud, thud… no, bang! bang! bang! It’s me!
Anxious that the mansion might shake again at any moment, I burst through the door and entered. Contrary to my expectations, however, a space smaller than I thought greeted me.
Perhaps because I had a preconceived notion that such a special place should be enormous, I initially thought I had the wrong address.
Still, I couldn’t just calmly fix the broken door and leave. So, I took a closer look around the interior.
The room was dark, as if curtains had been drawn and the lights turned off. I wondered why such a peculiar room existed, but then again, this was the Singularity—it made sense that something like this could exist. But even so, I couldn’t help but stare at the absurdity of the black void before me.
It was then that the true nature of the pitch-black darkness I was facing became clear. What I thought was a wall wasn’t a wall at all.
The room only seemed cramped because it was completely filled with dark, pulsating flesh. It wasn’t the lack of light from the curtains that made it dark—it was the sheer volume of the black mass filling the room, writhing and squirming.
Outside, I had only caught glimpses of it, but here it was densely packed, filling every available space.
Confirming this, I realized I had come to the right place. A wave of satisfaction washed over me—I had been right all along.
“You, Knowledge Bag, you’re useless when it matters. From now on, don’t go around calling yourself that.”
Not that it mattered, anyway—after all, it couldn’t go anywhere, let alone do anything without me. Still, I felt a little awkward.
I gently patted the Knowledge Bag and refocused my gaze on the interior.
Then, like a drumbeat, the six walls began to ripple at regular, steady intervals. The rhythm was so calm and consistent—it was almost as if they were saying that whatever was happening in this mansion was nothing serious.
Even though it didn’t speak explicitly, its entire presence seemed to convey that.
That unwavering calm made me feel somewhat embarrassed about my earlier panic. Still, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy, as if it was mocking me.
“Hmm.”
Perhaps it was time to create some urgency. From what I heard, it seemed like this thing hadn’t been around for long—it hadn’t experienced any real crises yet. Back in my day, I fought feral dogs lurking in the sewers and fled from people trying to catch me.
“Though, come to think of it, this thing probably won’t last long anyway, so it might not matter much.”
Regardless, I suspected that whatever this was had likely turned people into “furniture.” Even if I didn’t personally want to get close to it, the odds were high that I’d have to eliminate it. From what I understood, “processing” was likely referring to this creature.
I couldn’t help but wonder why the “Foundation,” which I had observed securing strange things for research, opted for “processing” this time. Was it simply too large?
While they managed to store oversized Alices by folding them, this thing posed a different challenge. Storing an entire mansion—it wasn’t like fitting an elephant into a refrigerator. It sounded impossible.
In any case, my mind was already made up, so there was no point in hesitating.
I stepped further inside and extended my tentacle just like I did outside, sharpening the tip into something hard and pointed. Then, I began slicing.
It was a sight that would have made me gag if I were still human. With every swipe, chunks of pitch-black flesh fell to the ground, and crimson liquid sprayed everywhere, pooling on the floor and soaking the flesh.
Though I wasn’t naturally cruel, it was unsettling every time a piece of flesh was severed. Still, I reminded myself that I wasn’t human anymore and continued to swing my tentacle.
As the room, once dark, became stained with crimson liquid, the steady rhythm of the pulsating interior grew erratic. It was finally realizing that something serious was happening, it seemed.
At this point, I expected a feeling of triumph, but my Jelly companion remained surprisingly silent. I felt neither happy nor particularly upset.
While I was contemplating this, the other Jellies that entered with me, seemingly delighted by the abundance of food, began happily hopping around and devouring the chunks of flesh that rolled across the floor.
Watching them, it became glaringly apparent how different these Jellies were from me, despite looking similar. They eagerly melted the crimson flesh, while I felt no such hunger. This observation unsettled me.
“Would Sosik, Alice, or anyone else react the same way if I brought them here?”
Frankly, I didn’t know. Though they originated from me, I doubted they’d refrain from eating. After all, they were born within the Singularity—perhaps they’d eat it.
If I were to witness such a sight, how would I react…?
It was uncertain. After all, I hadn’t consumed people either. When I thought about it, I had devoured countless other Singularities. The only reason this one was different was because it turned people into furniture.
“Come to think of it, perhaps the Jellies aren’t doing anything wrong. It’s not unnatural. I might have done the same if it didn’t turn people into furniture.”
Remembering the monsters I devoured in the snow-covered cave, I realized I hadn’t made those choices consciously—but that didn’t negate the fact that I had eaten them. Reflecting on this, I felt a faint sense of guilt toward the Jelly army.
In the midst of this, something unexpected happened.
The Jellies that had been enthusiastically eating the flesh suddenly convulsed. Like an episode of food poisoning, they began writhing wildly.
Their bodies sprouted thorns, and the previously melting flesh now bubbled like boiling water.
“Guess eating random stuff isn’t a good idea.”
I was grateful that I hadn’t succumbed to curiosity—it saved me from rolling on the floor like those Jellies.
But the situation seemed more complex than mere food poisoning. As I watched, the bubbling Jelly began to morph, reshaping itself.
A very familiar shape emerged—unsurprisingly, it was furniture. The Jellies that had swallowed the flesh transformed into various pieces of furniture.
Some became chairs, others became desks. Watching the grotesque transformation reminded me of the horrifying furniture I had encountered earlier, souring my mood.
“Instead of scolding them for eating the wrong thing, I’m more annoyed that someone made them this way.”
“Maybe I should have warned them not to eat anything.”
I continued swinging my tentacle without hesitation, approaching the Jellies.
They maintained their jelly-like softness while becoming rigid, preserving the shapes of the furniture. Thankfully, they didn’t seem dead yet.
Recalling the last person I saw, who had retained some consciousness even in this state, I reasoned that transforming into furniture didn’t necessarily mean immediate death.
“Eliminating the source should solve the problem.”
Whether the Jellies could hold out until then was uncertain, but giving up felt like a blow to my pride.
So, I swung my tentacle at the flesh more furiously. Large chunks were cut off, and dark red liquid splattered everywhere. Although new flesh regrew like it had outside, my rage-fueled swings were faster.
After cutting away an unknown amount of flesh, a faint light began to appear in the dim room. It seemed the crimson flesh had spread out from a central point.
In a game, I’d have a top-down view and would recognize the layout at a glance, but the flesh filling the room was much larger than I was.
“Luckily, I didn’t let myself be overwhelmed by the sheer mass.”
Considering the probability that something different lay at the center, I moved toward the faint light, directing my tentacle swings there.
I had swung them all around to figure out what was important, so now that I had a target, focusing would be more efficient.
Swoosh, swoosh, gulp!
I’ve become desensitized to the act of cutting.
Eventually, the faint light became more distinct. As the hidden crimson flesh revealed itself, prominent veins-like structures became visible.
A scene that truly embodied the term “flesh walls.”
Anyway, careful not to let it touch me directly, I pressed on toward the core when—bang!—a loud sound resonated, and my body tilted.
The Jelly furniture that had been scattered around now floated in the air, pelting both my body and the flesh.
Thrown off balance, I collided with the flesh.
“Eh, um…”
I stiffened my body, unwilling to become furniture.
I thought if I ate it, I’d turn into furniture like the Jellies.
Then…
