‘Why the sudden change?’
Hwang Bo-yul, who was holding Lime, tilted her head involuntarily.
Until just a moment ago, Lime had seemed focused on observing the pickled radish in the cafeteria, but now she was gazing up at Hwang Bo-yul with an expression that seemed to suggest reliance.
Bo-yul had instinctively sensed some sort of expectancy but remained clueless as to what it was Lime wanted.
Still, when she looked into those twinkling eyes that resembled stars flickering in jelly, paired with her soft features, her lips couldn’t help but curve into a gentle smile, even though she knew this wasn’t the time for such expressions.
Particularly, something about the steel helmet on Lime’s head gave her an almost childishly cute demeanor, reminding Bo-yul of how children sometimes aspire to look like adults.
Of course, if she were aware of the true purpose behind that helmet, Bo-yul wouldn’t simply find it adorable. But considering that Lime was in control of it… it didn’t feel dangerous.
Would Lime possibly just ask for pudding?
Hwang Bo-yul cleared her throat inwardly.
It was because a vivid image of her past self encountering her current state had surfaced in her mind.
Perhaps her past self would seize her by the collar and scream something like, “Have you gone mad?”
And yet, Hwang Bo-yul still didn’t believe her past self was entirely wrong. Though she had been following Han Seori’s plan, she still viewed the Singularity as dangerous.
However, whenever she looked at Lime, her heart would inexplicably quiver.
The blue translucent jelly quivered coolly, and the figure resembling a girl overflowed with charm and cuteness. It felt almost as if these were deliberate displays designed to appear friendly to humans.
Yet, if that were true, then surely Lime had already earned their trust beyond doubt.
If she had intended to betray them, she could have inflicted significant harm by now.
Perhaps it was because of the pudding… It dawned on her that maybe that was why they had chosen coexistence.
Lost in thought, Bo-yul felt that perhaps there were other reasons as well for visiting Lime, but she could understand why someone would be drawn to such a cute entity.
In a world like today, how could anyone resist encountering something so irresistibly adorable?
“Seems like…”
Am I enjoying a special privilege then? While others barely shake hands, I get to hold her so freely.
“Ahem…”
As Hwang Bo-yul was lost in her own thoughts amidst Lime’s gaze, nearby civilians (or should they be called something else?) began to gradually disperse under the guidance of the villagers.
Noticing this, Bo-yul naturally contacted Han Seori and discussed how to handle the current situation.
While she had been granted authority to handle matters outside the settlement, she felt it would be best to hear the story before making decisions.
Even if the townsfolk were right about the outsiders being undesirable people, wouldn’t it be better to hear them out first?
She sent the civilians away not only because they might be in danger but also to quietly deal with the approaching “group” if necessary.
Surely they must have realized that too.
Upon observing their demeanor—despite their pale and somewhat unsettling faces—Bo-yul began to wonder if they expected to be accepted without issue because they previously had been.
Could they not understand why they live here rather than at the Laboratory?
Perhaps they didn’t, but either way, wasn’t it overly naive, or rather careless?
Thinking back, those who harm others often remain blissfully ignorant of their actions. Thus, it wouldn’t be surprising if there were madmen claiming to be victims despite being the aggressors.
It was possible that the group gathered there under the village’s scornful glares had no clear understanding of the wrongs they had personally committed.
Nevertheless, Bo-yul’s heart yearned to handle them appropriately. The Foundation, having stepped forward openly, needed to consider this.
This wasn’t purely about handling everything morally, but neither was it about judging solely on negative reports and acting rashly.
It was plausible that someone had sent them here to instigate further problems, carefully cherry-picking members based on their negative reputation. This was something to keep in mind.
In the past, Bo-yul might have preferred to eliminate dangerous individuals immediately.
But feeling Lime’s softness in her arms softened that preference.
Seori’s voice over the communication line seemed to echo similar sentiments. Having synchronized with Seori’s decision, Bo-yul relayed the verdict.
Upon hearing it, the approaching group sighed in relief. The villagers who had sent the regulars away looked visibly uneasy but voiced their tentative trust.
“Will everything really be all right?”
“Don’t worry too much. We’re not just leaving them unchecked.”
“We’ll trust for now…”
Of course, Bo-yul understood why the villagers were uneasy and made it a point to reassure them.
What was most concerning to her, however, was…
‘Why is Lime acting like this?’
The sparkle that had earlier lit up Lime’s face was replaced by an uncharacteristically gloomy expression.
It was as if she had expected to bite into sweet sweet-and-sour pork but had instead bitten into a mushroom.
Even this somehow seemed endearing, but Bo-yul felt perplexed when her queries went unanswered.
‘Would a smartphone help?’
She realized she hadn’t asked earlier and decided to raise the subject soon.
As such, the group who had arrived from the Call of Twilight settled just outside the village.
They hadn’t been formally accepted but were simply being given time to observe—a period more akin to a “background check.”
Though an increase in workload wasn’t preferable, eliminating them based on mere suspicion wouldn’t be any different from what some of the Foundation’s garbage elements had done to the villagers.
In all situations, justification was crucial, especially now that they were operating in plain sight.
With these thoughts, Bo-yul gently stroked the sulking Lime’s head.
Though the task had been set, Lime’s discontent with the group settling near the village persisted. Her expression remained moody, even hinting at a possible mischievous plan.
—
Thock.
A sticky sound accompanied the creation of newly merged jelly under Lime’s control.
The new batch of combined jelly mass was rather numerous, forming a sticky chorus.
Satisfied with the result, Lime nodded, though her face showed a rare sign of fatigue from the merging activity.
This was merely the beginning.
Lime stretched habitually, looking over the freshly transformed jelly creatures, now resembling young girls.
The new jelly beings looked at her with a mix of curiosity and innocence.
To them, Lime issued a straightforward command:
“Monitor… those nasty ones outside!”
The somewhat vague directive had the jelly creatures murmuring in confusion until Lime clarified her order more definitively by shaking her head and specifying:
“Good people already have jelly attached to them. Ones without jelly traces are potentially bad actors!”
This explanation seemed to finally click with the gelatinous beings, who nodded in understanding.
Still uneasy about delegating responsibility to the rookies, Lime summoned a few veteran jellies from the quarantine chambers to oversee the task.
Upon hearing the new directives, these seasoned jellies seemed visibly distressed at the idea of having to shed their clothing.
Lime’s heart ached a bit, but she remained firm, shaking her head.
“Once this is over, I’ll let you wear clothes again. You know I care, right?”
Though the jellies lacked a clear way to express their feelings, they could only let a small trail of jelly flow down their cheeks in a tear-like manner.
Equipped with a team of experienced leaders, Lime made final preparations to dispatch her jelly legion outside.
Lime thought that Han Seori and Hwang Bo-yul were being too lenient.
After all they had endured, why treat the newcomers so gently?
Lime wasn’t necessarily advocating for their total elimination but felt uneasy leaving them unchecked near the villagers.
In the stories she had encountered, such leniency often led to problems.
There might be valid reasons, but surely confining them somewhere safer couldn’t be amiss?
She believed this case called for her role as a lawless Singularity to come into play.
And although she wasn’t going personally, she trusted her jelly creatures who could restrain—or if necessary—subdue humans with ease.
No, it’s not about harming them but about control.
Phew, almost slipped there.
Lime, reassured by her internal correction, relaxed with a gelatinous sigh before summoning a portal and releasing her jelly scouts outside.
In the darkness, the common people were less likely to notice the jellies’ presence, and thus their true nature would reveal itself.
With a slightly devious chuckle, Lime returned to the hangar.
Nevertheless, she hoped nothing serious would happen.
Even if they were potentially bad people, it felt a little unsettling.
Just because she had become a Singularity didn’t mean she had lost her human sensibilities or turned into a psychopath.
Thus, as she lay on the bed idly staring at the ceiling, the sudden opening of the hangar door caught her attention, startling her jellies.
Focusing, she saw Han Seori walking slowly toward her.
“Hmm? Could she possibly be bringing my smartphone?”
Excited by the thought, Lime sprang up half-sitting on the bed, her big eyes gleaming as she grinned.
However…
“Did you happen to send out the jelly units? No, you did, didn’t you?”
“Huh?”
How did she know when she hadn’t told anyone yet?
The answer appeared when Seori silently pointed to a hovering camera watching over them.
The camera seemed to gleefully wiggle, asserting its presence.
Expecting to receive a smartphone, Lime’s hopes quickly deflated, and she slouched dejectedly.
Preparing herself for a lecture from Seori, she began to fidget with some jelly.
Seeing her demeanor, Han Seori smiled slightly and said:
“If you’re scared of getting scolded, you should’ve perhaps… just refrained from doing it in the first place. It’s a little disappointing, Lime.”
Hearing her words, Lime thought that being scolded would have been better.
There was something condescending about it—it felt like being comforted rather than disciplined.
B-u-t… it’s still too lenient… that’s definitely true!
Lime felt slightly aggrieved.
—
The conversation ended, the atmosphere lightened, and they both resumed their respective duties, with Lime quietly plotting in her mind.
