In truth, Han Seori’s nightmare was just about to begin, and it was not an exaggeration to say so.
The fact that the personnel from the faraway Laboratory had been transferred to hers had been processed and recorded as official documentation. This meant that, regardless of whether she had agreed to house them outside the facility or not, on paper, the number of people officially listed as part of her Laboratory had increased.
“We’ll need you to accommodate some of the Singularities.”
“…Pardon?”
“From what I understand, a significant number of personnel have been reassigned to your facility.”
“Ah, yes, that’s right.”
“Surely you didn’t hire them to make soup, did you?”
“…Ugh.”
“Rest assured, we’ll take care of the transportation; all we ask is that you handle the isolation and management. Here, we’ll send you the list of Singularities.”
“…This seems like quite a lot, doesn’t it?”
“Take a look at the list and let us know if anything seems unfeasible. We don’t know your situation down there.”
Then why don’t they just not send them at all?
Han Seori suppressed a sigh internally.
Though she wanted to say so out loud, she knew deep down that there was no justification for rejecting the acceptance of Singularities, as the official procedures had already been properly followed. She was left with no room for refusal, a predicament entirely of her own making, and it rankled her considerably.
“We’ll… get back to you.”
“Yes, we’d appreciate a prompt reply if possible.”
“…Understood.”
Moreover, because this news wasn’t limited to just one source, several requests to transfer Singularities flooded in. Han Seori had mixed feelings about whether to be grateful for not accepting all of these or to simply consider herself unfortunate overall.
Outraged by the situation akin to “firing in all directions” or “changing partners too frequently,” Han Seori clutched Lime tightly, which prompted onlookers to worry aloud that her grip might leave permanent marks on Lime’s body.
With the overwhelming influx of information about the impending Singularities, Han Seori absentmindedly massaged her temples while mumbling complaints, all while Lime remained snug in her embrace. Indeed, her complaints were largely directed at Lime, who occasionally served as a confidant.
“Lime, wouldn’t it be great if you could just go out there and tell them all to go home?”
Her casual tone was laden with desperation. Oddly enough, Han Seori understood that this was a necessary but unavoidable responsibility—albeit an understanding that only deepened her distress.
“All the good days have gone… or rather, they left long ago…”
To this powerless and faint muttering, Lime felt an odd pang of guilt—more like a virtual conscience spinning inside the Jelly, pricking sharply.
Lime didn’t have much interest in anything while confined in the quarantine room, but ever since gaining more freedom to roam the facility, she had picked up a great deal of information. While she didn’t fully grasp why Han Seori was so troubled, she understood that her own presence was at the root of Han Seori’s concerns.
Being embraced as a stress reliever wasn’t something new to Lime. Besides, the extra pudding she’d managed to grab wasn’t exactly for Han Seori’s sake entirely.
Lime’s conscience pricked her a bit, and as she pressed closer to Han Seori, enveloped by her warmth, she was left contemplating.
Is there anything I can do to help?
Though willing to assist, she detested anything that might inconvenience herself. Managing Singularities might be somewhat enjoyable at first—like visiting a zoo—but managing animals in a way that documentaries don’t show was an altogether different league. Lime knew it wouldn’t last.
As Lime contemplated, a memory of a slightly shocking incident surfaced.
Upon reflection… there were some Jellies who had been placed into… whatever it was—a generator of some sort. Perhaps they could take on slightly more complex tasks? While they might not handle the truly intricate tasks meant for humans, maybe they could substitute for simpler duties?
That’s it!
Lime considered this the perfect solution.
Han Seori didn’t want to let outsiders in, but because of their interference, she was now obligated to accept the Singularities, requiring additional personnel for management. While the facility had other researchers, solely relying on them for managing Singularities would definitely lead to problems.
The first and most glaring problem? If Kim Cheon-soo didn’t have time to make pudding, they wouldn’t be able to eat pudding—truly a calamity.
If this was delegated to the Jelly army, wouldn’t they willingly step forward to offer assistance? Lime recalled an instance where she’d connected with the Jellies’ thoughts before and felt confident this might work.
So, Lime decided to head first to the room where the Jelly army gathered.
Upon entering, she saw Jellies scattered about, aimlessly squirming around. Lime picked up the ones nearest to her and examined them closely.
The first issue seemed to be size. They didn’t need to grow as large as herself, but at least they’d need some semblance of stature to perform any kind of management tasks.
Nodding to herself, Lime gathered the Jellies together, shaping them much like molding clay into pottery. But this approach didn’t yield good results—just lumping them together wouldn’t suffice; they needed to bond.
Thinking this over, Lime pulled the Jellies into her body, swelling significantly in size before expelling them once again. This time, when sending the Jellies out, she imbued them with a distinct purpose.
Although uncertain if this would work, Lime reasoned that perhaps shifting out of a strictly human mindset might be the key.
And it worked rather well. Much better than the previous method of crudely shaping the Jelly like clay.
These newly molded Jellies grew to about the size of Sosik, had extended limbs, and appeared delightfully round, showcasing what might be considered a satisfactory outcome.
Returning to her original size, Lime looked down contentedly at the Jellies. Though they seemed less refined in appearance compared to herself or Sosik, they appeared to be capable workers.
Once satisfied that these Jellies could follow simple commands effectively, Lime led them out of the room. Their destination was naturally the control room where Han Seori was located.
Led by Lime, the small Jelly army began their tiny march, and no one intervened in their journey.
As Lime led the Jellies, she felt an unusual sense of pleasure. It was a different kind of joy compared to the adoration she received from others.
It made her realize that there were more things she could do, provided it didn’t inconvenience her too much.
‘If only they played fair.’
Wasn’t this simply an exercise in the privilege of the victorious?
As the small parade reached the control room, Han Seori, who had been watching via camera, stared blankly at the procession entering.
Her first thoughts were confused.
What is this?
What is happening?
…Hmm, if I jumped in, they probably feel incredibly soft and plushy…
Could it be… Lime did this for me?
Han Seori looked at Lime with a touched expression, and when she saw Lime nod silently, she believed she understood her intentions.
The brief chaos that followed was interrupted before it escalated further by Electric Scent’s timely arrival. After hearing Lime’s explanation of why she’d created this Jelly army, Han Seori froze.
“Singularities… managing singularities?”
The concept was mind-blowing, and for a while, she could only blink. But as she pondered, she eventually came to the conclusion that, as long as it was feasible, it would be acceptable.
After all, they were already using Lime—a singularity—to suppress singularities and relied on another singularity to suspend the village.
Why shouldn’t they receive help in managing them?
The more she thought, the less reason she found to refuse. Of course, doubts lingered—could these somewhat hazy yet adorable Jellies really handle the task? Still, it seemed a better option than bringing in more people or depending solely on the current team members to manage all the singularities.
“At least… I can delay bringing them in for now.”
If this could provide more help than harm, then it seemed worthwhile.
“Okay.”
With her thoughts resolved, Han Seori embraced Lime and said,
“You listened to my complaints and organized all of this? Thank you… let’s try it. We’ll need to test before other Singularities arrive, but we should give it a shot.”
And so, the Laboratory entered the Age of the Jelly.
It seemed odd, but that was how it was.
