It seems like quite a bit of time has passed since that test of danger or whatever it was.
This absurd space had no clocks, so there was no telling exactly how many days had gone by, but judging by the regularity of the meals being delivered, it must have been quite a while.
If they were providing me with three meals a day, it might not have been as long as I thought, but if it was only one meal a day… it could very well have been much longer than I anticipated.
What does it even matter how much time has passed, anyway?
Time has ceased to be an important resource for me lately.
No, it’s not that it has become less important—it’s more like it’s become almost boundless.
It’s like going from being a time pauper to being a time Gates.
Lying here with these annoying toys in this stark white room, I think I understand why the time lords are always hanging out on the internet.
It’s excruciatingly boring.
Maybe they just do anything to avoid going insane.
Perhaps it’s also due to some sort of anxiety.
By comparison, my situation isn’t all that bad.
I don’t have to worry about survival in the future, at least not for now.
Though there’s no bed, this is infinitely better than wandering the sewers. And as far as meals are concerned, they may not always come at the right time, but they do come regularly.
If it weren’t for the toys and a few other things, this could almost be considered the dream life for someone without financial worries—a blissful life of leisure.
Is that too greedy?
It doesn’t seem entirely impossible if I slowly unleash my shining intellect.
After devouring the horned wolf and fiddling with the protruding knowledge sac, I began to mentally boil some jelly since I haven’t had much opportunity to display my intelligence lately.
Han Seori’s visits have become less frequent too.
Whenever she comes, she seems exhausted, opening the door just to deliver a snack, doing no experiments like before.
I don’t think her interest has waned entirely, but I’m not quite sure.
If only I knew more.
Here, among the people I recognize, there are only three: Han Seori, the head, and one scaredy-cat.
I don’t even know the names of anyone but Han Seori.
Well, I guess we’re not really on a name-sharing basis, are we?
I suppose my relationship with them would be best described as distant, except for Han Seori. I haven’t seen the scaredy-cat since he arrived here.
I idly watched my knowledge sac, which wobbled as I moved my head, passing the time.
Even the doll soldier play that once amused me has grown dull.
As I lay there, a sudden curiosity struck me.
What might be in the room next door?
I know it’s late to start wondering, but with no means of escape and never having considered it before, it’s understandable.
In short, I guess my boredom finally reached its peak.
The moment I sprang up, Daesik, who had been fidgeting near Alice, shivered.
He looked quite funny with a caramel-stained wrapper perched on his head as if he’s saving it for later.
Shifting my attention from Daesik, I pressed my ear against the white wall, hoping to hear something from the neighbors.
However, the soundproofing seems to be excellent.
I couldn’t help but recall the vivid sounds of lovemaking I once heard through a motel wall.
Comparatively, it made me chuckle.
I thought back to the time I was taken out for a stroll in the glass container, and it seemed the distances here were significant enough that no sound could carry.
At the moment I shook my head, I heard it—an indistinct noise, something strange.
What could it be?
Pursuing the source, I realized the sound came from beyond the door Han Seori always enters through.
It seemed the sound was not from a neighbor but rather from outside.
What could it be?
Then I remembered the scene from the first day I arrived: someone with blood streaming from their eyes in agony, amidst a tumultuous crowd.
Could there have been another incident?
Maybe it’s not as safe here as I assumed.
At that moment,
The door opened, and Han Seori appeared with a worried expression, accompanied by a glass container.
Simultaneously,
A menacing, ominous sound reached my ears.
The premonition was not a good one.
“Ah… this isn’t right.”
Han Seori scratched her head furiously and buried her face in her desk.
It seemed the grand operation to improve the jelly girl’s goodwill had failed. Initially, the atmosphere had been promising.
‘The danger test ruined everything.’
Who could have predicted that the jelly girl, when threatened, would suddenly awaken her abilities, defeating and devouring the horned wolf with a dull thud?
While it would have been an exhilarating scene in a novel, for Han Seori, it felt like all her plans were crumbling.
Not only that, her body had undergone some sort of change after the devouring.
Because of this, all meals provided in 7496 – KR were now limited to fast food and snacks.
Some even suggested that providing anything at all might not be a good idea…
‘That’s just too extreme.’
If that happened and she went out of control, who would take responsibility?
Without question, it would be the worst choice, erasing all the goodwill built up so far.
So,
This new obstacle complicated Han Seori’s plan to make better use of 7496 – KR.
Though her proposal to utilize 7496 – KR was met with interest, the question of whether the entity was truly under control remained unanswered, even for Han Seori. And the recent changes in 7496 – KR added to the concerns.
Even if the jelly girl does possess intelligence, would she remain obedient after gaining sufficient strength?
Even Han Seori was stumped by that question, causing her superior, Yoo Gang-jik, to quickly dismiss the plan.
‘At least it’s better than more deaths, right?’
Is there no way to demonstrate that the jelly girl is friendly and cooperative toward humans?
It seemed unlikely.
Even if the jelly girl could write, it likely wouldn’t make much of a difference.
The obvious response would be:
‘How can we trust that?’
‘Should I give up?’
Han Seori was already feeling tired, for this was not the only thing she needed to focus on. The only thing that occasionally brought a smile to her face was sneaking time to give the jelly girl snacks.
…Had she only stored mass and occasionally withdrawn it, staying cute and squishy, this wouldn’t have happened.
Annoyed with herself, Han Seori reviewed the footage from the danger test she had conducted.
Zooming in, she noticed that when the horned wolf’s horn touched a subtly different-colored part of the jelly girl’s body, her movements changed drastically, as if a switch had been pressed.
After that, the jelly girl swung her fist, resulting in a loud “PERFECT” rather than a dull thud, as expected.
‘Now that I think about it.’
She had previously experimented with feeding the jelly girl chunks of metal.
‘Could it be because of that?’
The visuals were roughly similar, so Han Seori’s speculation appeared to be on the right track.
It was my fault in the end, wasn’t it?
Just then,
Someone knocked on the door.
Han Seori, who had been nervously picking at her nails, pressed the button on her desk, and an armed man entered.
“Doctor Han.”
“Oh… right. A new singularity was supposed to arrive today, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
“Yes….”
At least, let’s do something productive.
With the methods to utilize the jelly girl still elusive, Han Seori began to feel like giving up.
Though she had developed some affection for having saved the jelly girl from the director’s clutches, if it wasn’t possible, then it wasn’t.
While pondering, following the armed escort, Han Seori murmured upon spotting an unfamiliar face.
“There’s a face I don’t recognize.”
“Ah, yes. A few new recruits joined recently.”
“Oh.”
Which meant someone else must have quit, right?
Still, as people come and go, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of melancholy.
Just then,
CRACK!
A strange sound came from down the hall. Given how disagreeable it was, both Han Seori and her escort stiffened.
At that moment, a voice came from the radio clipped to the waist of the person speaking to Han Seori.
– Accident during singularity transportation. The singularity currently being transported—
“…Damn.”
The ominous transmission rang in her ears.
Recalling the nature of the singularity expected to arrive today, Han Seori asked,
“…Isn’t it supposed to be inactive without other singularities nearby?”
With a sigh, the man holding the radio replied,
“It’s likely a mistake by the new recruit.”
“…We don’t know.”
Rubbing her temples, Han Seori gave an order in a calm voice.
“Move all the nearby singularities to another location. It seems this one is close to here. And call for more support.”
“Understood.”
Somehow, everything goes wrong.
Still, Han Seori felt relief knowing that the affected entity was a known singularity.
In her thoughts, the image of 7496 – KR, the jelly girl, arose.
‘…Isn’t she isolated nearby?’
Realizing this, Han Seori grabbed the glass container she used for the jelly girl and headed to the containment room.
While others would likely handle the rest, she knew she was the only one who wasn’t intimidated by the jelly girl.
If she hesitated, both the person moving the jelly girl and the jelly girl herself could be in danger.
Thus,
Han Seori naturally walked into the containment room holding the glass container, believing she was the only one who could move the jelly girl.
Upon opening the door, startled by the jelly girl’s sudden proximity, Han Seori quickly lifted her up and placed her into the container.
However,
Despite her efforts, the corridor alarm began to sound.
It seemed her plan wouldn’t go as smoothly as she had hoped.
