As Kim Cheon-soo failed to grab the disk that seemed to offer an escape, he could only groan in despair.
In the remnants of the monster that had been reduced to nothing more than a meal, Lime discovered something peculiar. Sacrificing one of Kim Cheon-soo’s joints as an offering, Lime grasped the object.
At first glance, it looked like some random trinket, but it felt different from the things usually attached to monsters.
However, lacking such knowledge, Lime could only sense a vague unease.
Nonetheless, thinking it might somehow be useful, Lime instinctively merged it with their own body.
Lime had forgotten that Kim Cheon-soo was inside them, which led to a brutal bubbling feast.
“Seriously, I didn’t do it on purpose. Is it really necessary to get this upset?”
Muttering irritably, Lime, along with Sosik dangling on their shoulder, continued towards the underwater fortress.
The fortress, once romantic and beautiful, was now dead.
Since the moment the monsters had been devoured by the fish swarm, there was no romance left in this place.
Of course, the emergence of the monsters also played a part, but to Lime, the brutal nature of ordinary fish was far more shocking. They had seen so many monsters by now that they had become almost routine.
Though it was somewhat amusing to be disappointed by just hungry fish, that was that.
After some time of venturing further inside,
Was it because the romance and beauty had peeled away? Or was the true nature of the fortress only now being revealed?
Traces not of monsters, but of ordinary humans, began to appear everywhere.
Looking at them, Lime now understood why they had wondered why other traces hadn’t appeared before—now it seemed natural. The remains were like those of the monsters, only bones were left, but the scattered objects were unmistakably from human civilization.
Weapons and bloodstained clothes.
It was something they had grown used to seeing every time they went to deal with a Singularity—unfortunate… victims. But there was a slight difference about these traces compared to those they had encountered before.
As Lime approached and intently observed the traces, Kim Cheon-soo seemed to have something to say, bubbling furiously. This time, it felt intentional, so Lime didn’t feel any discomfort.
After attaching the breathing apparatus to allow speech, Kim Cheon-soo spoke in a weary voice, as though his throat had been squeezed.
“It looks like… these aren’t people from our side.”
The raspy voice filled Lime with worry, though they could find no way to express it, only nodding silently. Since nodding was mirrored by Kim Cheon-soo, this simple gesture was enough for basic communication.
“It seems they managed to push a Singularity over to our area… which isn’t something that usually happens easily.”
So, did the people from over there—across the water—intentionally send this over?
Lime frowned.
Back when Lime was human, they had no particular feeling towards the country across the water. They hadn’t participated in any boycotts, and they weren’t overly patriotic. There had simply been too much for Lime to do back then to worry about such things.
But the thought that they had sneaked the Singularity over was infuriating.
This wasn’t a warning of possibility; it was a deception—sending it over and then casually mentioning the risks.
It was unforgivable.
Could it be that this Singularity itself was an enormous sabotage created by the other side?
Well, that was unlikely…
They probably sent it over begrudgingly because they couldn’t manage it.
Though Lime didn’t know the full details and could only fan their anger, since they couldn’t do anything about it, they soon calmed down and moved forward again.
After walking for some time and reaching what they estimated to be the center of the fortress, an enormous chasm appeared before them, its depth impossible to gauge.
It was as dark as the Mariana Trench, reputedly the deepest part of the world.
Considering how the inside of the fortress was bright enough to identify details, this was suspicious—almost as if it was openly declaring its presence.
Like how an anglerfish uses its light to lure prey, some nameless Singularity was luring Lime with darkness.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Lime prepared their body to leap in. Realizing that Lime’s body was about to dive, Kim Cheon-soo bubbled furiously.
Is this kid crazy? Do they really plan to just go in like this? Is this seriously how they roll?
Once again, with the breathing apparatus in place, Kim Cheon-soo hacked and wheezed with his cracked voice.
“Surely, you’re not actually planning to jump in?”
At hearing this, Lime hesitated.
Alright, so you thought that one through, I see.
“Isn’t it a bit reckless? Even if we have to go in eventually, we should also consider how to get back out.”
Does this kid actually think they can solve everything by just going down there?
While pondering this, Kim Cheon-soo reflected on Lime’s track record and sheepishly adjusted his tone.
It does make sense, though…
After all, there was no record of defeat in Lime’s history.
Even reluctant Kim Cheon-soo could intellectually understand why Lime was so confident. But it still felt like this confidence might turn into a liability. Caution was necessary in situations like this.
It wasn’t just about himself being scared of diving down there first.
…Okay, maybe a bit, but still.
“Sounds like wishy-washy nonsense, but we do need preparation—cough! cough! Urgh, what’s wrong with me?”
On the other hand, Lime wasn’t without thought while being lectured by Kim Cheon-soo’s mother-like advice.
The reason Lime was rushing was simple.
It felt like if they lingered any longer, Kim Cheon-soo might actually cross the Styx. Buried in Jelly, he seemed unaware, but Lime, who held him inside, knew his condition was worsening moment by moment.
No matter how Lime protected Kim Cheon-soo, the outside environment wouldn’t change any more than wearing a spacesuit made one invincible in space.
Human bodies were not meant to survive down there. Either the protection Lime offered wasn’t sufficient, or if the depth was greater than expected, the ascent would pose problems.
So, Lime thought they needed to act quickly to deal with this Singularity. When they had uncovered the shocking truth earlier, they briefly considered sending it back to the other side, but now all they cared about was eliminating it.
Otherwise, Kim Cheon-soo was really going to end up in bad shape. It wouldn’t just be joints cracking; they’d probably cough up blood and collapse.
There was some merit in Kim Cheon-soo’s words, however. If only Lime and Sosik were present, diving down then might not have been an issue.
If they encountered something unbearable, they could always escape.
Even though the way out was blocked, they could likely manage to flee from down there. And once they dealt with the Singularity below, the distortion in this area would vanish.
Of course, such an incomprehensibly deep chasm was surely part of it. The cavity was clearly artificial, and even the knowledge repository inside Lime started trembling, making it a confirmed random drop.
Thus, aside from the lack of a specific strategy, this was a fine plan, which Kim Cheon-soo had pointed out.
Lime found themselves in a dilemma.
Diving down would likely worsen Kim Cheon-soo’s condition.
But there was no apparent method to find another way.
For someone like Lime, accustomed to tackling problems head-on to grasp the threads, this was an uncomfortable situation.
Though they didn’t particularly anticipate an earth-shattering battle against the Singularity beneath, the fact remained that without confronting it, there was no way to devise a countermeasure.
What to do?
How could one overcome this obstacle?
Given that this was a matter of life and death—Kim Cheon-soo’s life—Lime was about to delve into deep reflection, when they caught sight of Sosik lazily dangling from their shoulder.
Hm.
Come to think of it, this guy was around.
Thus, a brilliant plan emerged in Lime’s mind.
It wasn’t a sinister, horrible plan to send Sosik down alone—there were too many cons in that scenario. Although Sosik had made a memorable impression earlier, they were ultimately just a small Jelly.
But…
Using them as bait seemed fine.
Old Grandmaster Jiang may have fished for time, but I’m fishing for a Singularity.
If it doesn’t work, we’ll think of something else.
With determination, Lime nudged Sosik awake.
Begrudgingly, Sosik opened their eyes, clearly wondering why more needed to be done when they had already helped.
I just want to throw you now.
No, no, that wouldn’t be right.
Caught in an odd urge upon seeing their shameless expression, Lime cleared their throat and let out some bubbles before setting Sosik down and gesturing their plan.
Did they understand Lime’s flailing?
Sosik nodded as if agreeing, conveniently combining their legs into a single form, making it easier for Lime to grab them.
‘…I hadn’t thought it through this far.’
Despite the bizarre resemblance to a mermaid, Sosik somehow looked fitting, though it created a strange vibe.
Still, your enthusiasm pleases me.
As Lime felt a twinge of fondness towards Sosik’s eagerness, a thought crossed their mind.
‘Could this kid…’
Is he so naive as to think he only needs to sit and relax?
…Nah, that can’t be it, can it?
Unfortunately, it was a reality where anything was possible.
In any case,
A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity has come to me.
In part to reinforce the slack spirit of Sosik who always lounged around, and partly to make progress on this matter, Lime grabbed Sosik’s legs and swung them around.
While Kim Cheon-soo was baffled by what the Jellies were doing,
Lime, like a cowboy, swung Sosik around, causing the Jelly to stretch, eventually falling toward the dark chasm.
Sosik, stretching lazily like they were lying in their own cozy home, closed their eyes—an image that Lime couldn’t see.
The throwing motion had Lime slightly excited, and in a way, they were quite similar.
Different only on the outside, they shared the same root.
Only they themselves were unaware of it.
