Kim Cheon-soo’s mornings are quick.
Rising with a disheveled appearance, he sat dazed for a moment before barely managing to stand up. As he did, he felt a stiffness in his wrist, narrowed his eyes, and sighed.
“Ugh…”
Making groaning sounds, he roughly washed up in the bathroom attached to his quarters, got dressed, and stepped out of the room.
The outside scenery seemed to suggest that even the phrase “fast-paced” was somewhat lacking. It was still dark because the sun had not yet risen. Of course, this was of little concern to Kim Cheon-soo, who was still inside the building.
He moved his wrist around as if it was still stiff and continued walking. Naturally, his footsteps eventually led him to… the kitchen, as expected.
Standing in front of the now overstocked refrigerator, Kim Cheon-soo exhaled a deep sigh and muttered.
“Did I get a job at a dessert shop…?”
No, this wasn’t a dessert shop. What should it be called…? A cafeteria chef? Or maybe a zookeeper? Considering that the latter also takes care of feeding animals, that might fit.
While grumbling internally, his body continued to work.
When he opened the fridge, he was greeted by countless puddings. He transferred several bowls of pudding onto a mobile tray and left the kitchen.
Eventually, he arrived at the door of an isolation room, where he held up the ID badge hanging from his neck to a panel. The tightly shut door opened, and beyond it, small jellies with subdued faces greeted him.
Even though they couldn’t verbally communicate, it was clear they had been waiting—not just for Kim Cheon-soo, but likely for the pudding.
“Is this okay…?”
While handing the bowls of pudding to the jellies, Kim Cheon-soo absentmindedly scratched his head. In the meantime, the two jellies who received the bowls split the pudding into halves perfectly and pushed it into their bodies. Then, they appeared to play a game resembling rock-paper-scissors, and the one that presumably won took the remaining pudding in the bowl.
“…They seem pretty smart.”
He felt a slight awkwardness while observing them but glanced beyond the jellies toward the Singularity they were guarding. They had kept it exceptionally well-maintained, peaceful even. It seemed like now would be a good time to give them some slack, maybe a little playtime.
Although he didn’t have such intentions, things were as they were.
Upon further reflection, there was indeed one aspect of human care that was better handled by the jellies.
Unless it was a Singularity that required such care, 24-hour constant monitoring by humans was not typically practiced. In fact, having humans around could sometimes stimulate Singularities, so it was rarely done.
Of course, it would be ideal if all Singularities were monitored like this. If someone kept their eyes on it, the chances of accidents would decrease, and it would be easier to stop anyone attempting mischief.
However, the problem eventually came back to “humans.”
First, there weren’t enough people to rotate 24-hour shifts. If a single Singularity required round-the-clock monitoring, how many people would be needed just for that?
Considering the average human can concentrate for only one to two hours at a time, an unreasonably large number of staff would be required. Once focus falters, it’s as good as not monitoring at all.
And, even when trying to prevent mischief, since humans are involved, the probability of someone succumbing to temptation is nearly zero. In a large group, only one person needs to be persuaded.
As they say, “When five gather, one will always be useless.”
…And these days, they talk more about larger numbers, making it even worse.
But the jellies were different.
Paired jellies didn’t need shifts. They simply stayed in the isolation chambers, staring intently at the Singularities 24/7. While it might seem odd to have Singularities monitor Singularities, picturing it as two kinds of Singularities isolated in the same space made it seem more plausible.
They neither tire nor express dissatisfaction. The jellies would faithfully guard the Singularities as long as pudding was supplied on time. Whether they were genuinely guarding them or just lounging around was unclear, but considering a jelly that had prevented an escape attempt was rewarded with double pudding, it seemed unlikely they were just lounging.
Additionally, there was no concern about them harboring ulterior motives. Though their adherence to Lime’s will was a bit ambiguous, these jellies, under control, were unaffected by bribes or threats like humans.
Of course, the blind spot was that no one attempted such coercion, but since not everyone outside could be fully trusted, this system proved functional.
…Yet, the jellies did raise a little suspicion.
Sometimes, jellies would grab onto Kim Cheon-soo’s pants just as he was leaving after dispensing pudding and giving back the bowls, with wide, glittering eyes. It gave the impression that they might cooperate if given pudding, but experiments proved otherwise, enhancing their reliability.
Thinking about it, Kim Cheon-soo couldn’t help but feel he was doing something significantly important. After all, the pudding the jellies sought wasn’t just any pudding—it was specifically the pudding he made. So, this wasn’t an inaccurate notion.
They might follow Lime’s will, but their current enthusiasm seemed unmatched.
“Humph.”
For some reason, Kim Cheon-soo felt good, and his lips curled upward. The puddings the jellies enjoyed were the ones he made.
Even if they were merely following Lime’s will, perhaps they wouldn’t have done it with such fervor otherwise.
“Hmm.”
Cheerily, Kim Cheon-soo collected the bowl that the jelly, winning the rock-paper-scissors game, meticulously cleaned and moved to the next isolation chamber.
During his rounds, a small silhouette approached him. As expected, it was Lime.
Walking with hands behind her back, she spotted Kim Cheon-soo and casually waved before briskly coming closer. Kim Cheon-soo, already knowing her intention, shook his head firmly and stated,
“It’s not going to happen. This belongs to the ones guarding the isolation chambers.”
In response, Lime shrugged, as if no one had asked for anything, but her distinct, beautiful eyes were trained on the pudding, unmistakably.
Kim Cheon-soo shook his head again and continued walking, and Lime followed close behind with her hands still behind her back.
Together, they continued to make the rounds. Lime’s eyes remained fixed on the pudding, but unlike the jellies, she didn’t take it from them. She merely looked on, occasionally licking her lips, then turned her gaze to the Singularity behind the jellies with apparent interest.
As they were about to leave, Lime lightly patted the jellies on the shoulders, behaving as if she were the supervisor.
“…Upon reflection, she is the supervisor, right?”
Kim Cheon-soo glanced at Lime with mild amusement and nodded in agreement. After all, this bizarre plan was possible solely due to Lime—a truly ‘special’ Singularity.
Kim Cheon-soo suddenly remembered the day they first met.
…Technically, it wasn’t much of a first meeting since he practically kidnapped her, but even then, she hadn’t seemed particularly threatening.
Like a cat hidden in a box—how should one describe it?
Considering that the same individual now communicated and collaborated effectively, it was somewhat moving.
Thinking about it now, knowing that she had this intelligence all along was a bit embarrassing and awkward.
While he was feeling awkward, all the prepared pudding had been dispensed, and they returned to the kitchen together.
Upon arriving in the kitchen, Lime grabbed Kim Cheon-soo’s pants and shook them.
“Ah! Hey! I’ll give you the pudding without you needing to pull so hard! Besides, you could just take it out yourself! Stop looking at me like that!”
Really, only her brute strength…
While fixing his slightly rumpled pants after Lime tugged, Kim Cheon-soo sighed at her running toward the fridge.
The last time her pulling tore them, and she kept doing this—so it seemed like her supposed poor memory wasn’t the problem, and she was doing it deliberately.
Does she find teasing me amusing?
He shook his head and approached the fridge. Now that the jellies’ morning distribution was complete, it was time to prepare food for the humans and make extra pudding for the distribution.
Doubts about his work briefly crossed his mind, but he brushed them aside.
After all, this was something he excelled at and was quite important.
“…”
Personally, he preferred this to dealing with Singularities.
It just feels right, doesn’t it?
After securing a wrist guard over his now pain-free wrist, he began working.
Next to him was Lime, scooping pudding directly out of a bowl.
Everything was going according to plan, and it felt great.
Keeping Singularities in check with the help of the jellies wasn’t easy, but it was done. Seeing Han Seori’s relieved face, who had been dealing with constant headaches, also made me feel good.
Checking on the jellies every morning made me feel important and gave me joy.
Isn’t that true?
Without me, this would’ve been impossible.
So, isn’t it perfectly fine to enjoy this feeling a bit more?
Everything was perfect.
There were humans who admired me on the outside, and I managed the issues within using my powers.
The pudding was delicious, Han Seori was cheerful, and the scene fit the definition of a golden age.
I hope this could last forever.
Just as I was about to take a nap after finishing my morning routine, Daesik and Sosik woke up and turned on the TV.
For some reason, though…
I felt uneasy.
