“How do you feel about it…?”
Han Seori’s story… no, her proposal was surprising, but refreshingly straightforward.
If she had beat around the bush with her words, it might have left the Jellies feeling uneasy, but her suggestion and rationale were crisp and clear.
The reason was simple: lack of money.
The proposal was to start a business (?) to cover this shortfall.
It wasn’t entirely clear how to categorize it—was it tourism? Lodging? If people came to see the Jellies, maybe it would fall under “observation.”
Anyway, it seemed the core idea was to use the Singularity for commerce. Now that even the trees had transformed into entities like the Singularity, it didn’t seem wrong.
Still, there was a pang of melancholy in the Jellies, perhaps because Han Seori’s suggestion was too grounded in reality.
It reminded me of when I fell a bit behind on rent…
But setting aside personal feelings, upon reflection, Han Seori’s concerns were valid. When I was human, even I needed money to pursue my dreams, and thus, I had to work.
…Not that I expected it to be so relevant now.
…Still, there are a lot of Jellies around. Especially since I combined them to work on various tasks, they’ve been eating more pudding—much more than before. More movement, more hunger, I suppose.
Honestly, I’m not entirely sure why the Jellies eat pudding. Is it for energy or simply because they like the taste? Regardless, the need for pudding remains undeniable.
As for how much pudding is made and consumed, that’s unclear. I just ate whatever was made without much thought.
Perhaps this whole situation arose because we can communicate now. If we couldn’t, conversations like this might not happen at all.
Still, it seemed worth considering seriously.
Then I thought, “Isn’t it my problem how the village’s upkeep is managed?” and shook my head. They told me I came here empty-handed, so I can’t just dismiss it without guilt.
Just enjoying the attention and ignoring everything would be like taking the sweet parts and spitting out the rest.
Tsk… That feels a bit too much like the actions of bad Jellies. Even though they’re cute, there’s a limit to how much we can forgive.
Moreover, I thought about the possibility that the Jellies looked up to me as a role model, and it didn’t feel right for them to learn such behavior from me.
Han Seori seems to want the Jellies to interact well with humans, so this kind of attitude wouldn’t do. If the Jellies learned this, they’d probably just exploit and discard humans.
I don’t want to turn the Jellies into snakes in disguise.
So, nestled against the Golden Jelly, I slowly mulled over Han Seori’s offer.
She had left with the implication that she had other things to handle, so there was no pressure to respond immediately.
The idea itself seemed decent. I didn’t expect her to bring it up first, but it shows how dire the situation must be.
Regardless, I thought it had potential. Though I feel a bit awkward saying it, this place truly felt like a nice retreat.
Even someone who used to be human like me felt this way—what’s there to say?
The air smells good (not just because of the Golden Jelly), the scenery is pleasant, and you can reach heights that make humans seem insignificant.
Well, how you get there might be a minor issue, but it’s good exercise, right?
…Eh? Am I starting to sound old?
Anyway, I think the proposal itself is positive.
Still, it’d be wise to explore the idea further before responding to Han Seori.
And this wasn’t a bad proposition for me or the Jellies. With increased revenue, we might have more pudding… and not just pudding, maybe even other delicacies.
The Jellies think pudding is the best food in the world, but there are countless other delicious things in this world.
Surely, they don’t only eat what Kim Cheon-soo makes, right?
If that’s the case… poor Cheon-soo.
Regardless.
I wiped away the complexity of my thoughts and stepped out of the comforting embrace of the Golden Jelly. Resting in its arms made me drowsy, which wasn’t productive at all.
It felt strange to see my Jelly so meticulously groomed.
Still, constant interaction was necessary. Though similar to Daesik, Jungsik, and Sosik, each Jelly had its own unique personality, so it was worth understanding this one too.
Thus far, it seemed to embody pure, nurturing “motherhood.” It might stem from consuming the core of a tree when it appeared, but I couldn’t be sure.
Whether this has always been its nature or if it’s influenced by something else, I couldn’t tell.
Still, it played well with the other Jellies and even cradled Han Seori, so it didn’t seem malicious.
Or maybe… it was. After all, it could engulf someone in such a cozy embrace that they’d never want to leave. The Jellies are naturally easygoing, but even Han Seori looked a bit relaxed in its arms.
If I hadn’t shown up, she might have started acting childish.
…Scary. Realizing this saved me from indulging too much.
Cough.
Leaving the terrifying addictive Jelly behind, I stepped out of the room. After walking a bit, I reached an entrance to the outside. Breathing in the rich scent of phytoncides, I entered, only to see the Jellies bunched together in groups.
Looking at them made me think they might need more entertainment. Playing with humans—was it rest or work?
It was ambiguous.
People recharge in different ways; some through interaction, others just by lying around.
Walking amidst these thoughts, I headed toward where most of the Jellies gathered. The Golden Jelly then appeared from a gap.
It was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Its actions were motherly, but seeing it emerge like that felt more like an assassin.
While I watched curiously, the scattered Jellies began flocking toward the Golden Jelly like children spotting their favorite cartoon mascot.
The Jellies gathered and clung to it, making it wiggle and quiver as they demanded cuddles, and the Golden Jelly happily complied, patting and soothing them.
…We’ve only known each other for a short time, so how did they get so close?
Hey, you guys…
I’m right here.
Do you think I’m invisible?
You lot might as well have cat ears sprout on your heads for betraying me like this.
As I felt a pang of melancholy, Daesik suddenly hugged me with his small frame. Sosik, who’d been lurking in the corner, came up and gave me a wave. Then, out of nowhere, Jungsik dropped from the ceiling onto my head.
Blackness… Ah, you guys are the only ones for me!
I lifted Daesik and tugged Sosik toward me with a tentacle. Jungsik, too, I grabbed with another tentacle, placing him on my head. With that, I began inspecting the interior.
Last time, I wandered around for safety checks, but this time it was to assess if the place could be used as lodging.
From the vague memories I had, it seemed barren and desolate.
Even if this is a place to connect with nature, no one wants to sleep on a cold, hard floor, do they?
Hmm… If not me, who will find and fix these issues?
Hey Sosik, why are you squirming so much? Did I not say we’re going to check together?
With the Jellies clinging to, surrounding, or riding me, I inspected each room (?).
Amusingly, every time we entered a room, the Golden Jelly seemed to be waiting and greeted us warmly.
What are you doing here? Aren’t the other Jellies looking for you?
Regardless, the Golden Jelly stretched its form and embraced me along with the others.
…Hmm.
Being linked to the others makes sense since it’s connected to Daesik, Jungsik, and Sosik. And since we’re its direct connection, it’s only natural it’s drawn to me.
Too bad for the treacherous Jellies. They need to feel a little empty.
So with my direct Jelly subjects, I inspected the interior.
The most immediate need that stood out?
An elevator, of course.
Though I heard there were no electronics usable in here.
Even if the Jellies moved the elevator with their “jelly powers,” there might be complications.
Still, it was necessary.
Even I would grow tired if I had to climb to the so-called “Royal Levels” which, ironically, were designed to look down upon regular humans.
Mentally, it’s exhausting even if not physically.
What about the customers?
Now that I think about it, I once heard a story where the lower levels were Royal because climbing these staircases was too arduous for the elite.
It makes sense.
But honestly, at this height, no one would want to stay up here for free.
We couldn’t afford to lose potential customers, so a solution was needed.
And the ones who’d bear the brunt of the labor? Likely the Jellies.
Tough luck being born Jelly.
This is what royalty does—give orders and oversee!
Cough.
For some reason, the Jellies’ gaze on me seemed lukewarm. But it must be my imagination.
