Crafting a Gift for My Attachment Human
Making a gift for my attachment human. ……………… There's a place called the Special Materials Vault. Underground level 28 of the Threat Management Agency HQ. It's a sort of warehouse storing items derived from various threat entities or unidentified dangerous substances. The security is intense. Double airtight doors, biometric recognition, retinal scans, even consciousness resonance locks. But slipping inside wasn't hard.
The seams of the airtight doors have tiny gaps for air circulation. About 0.02 millimeters. No matter how precise they are, it's never a perfect vacuum. That's plenty to squeeze through without breaking anything. Sure, it's an interest-free, unlimited, unsecured loan of a debt, but piling on more repair bills isn't ideal. Better to come and go as normally as possible.
I unraveled my DNA and cellular structure. Skin, muscle, bones. Melting down everything needed to hold a human form turns me into a purple jelly-like slime state.
Squelch. The sensation of every somatic cell lining up single file to slip through that 0.02-millimeter gap is strangely subtle. I reformed my body on the other side of the door. Three seconds is all it takes.
Snap.
Anyway. The slime girl look isn't half bad. My body melting all fluid and gooey—it's got this intriguing vibe. Done right, I could bask in that lazy haze 24/7. But the problem is, it looks way too different from a human. I'd fit right into that monster girl gacha game the agency agents were playing on their smartphones. Hold on—no way is the slime girl form more popular than my usual one, right? That might actually sting a little.
The vault interior was wider than I'd imagined. High ceilings, glass display cases lining both walls. Each one has an info plate with a number and threat grade.
I strolled along, peering into them. Pat pat.
Storage No. E-0371. Magical Girl Magical☆Sakura's "Soul Gem" - Grade: A+.
Recovered during the Tokyo invasion by the 25 Tera threat entity "Hexennacht" in 2011. Original owner confirmed deceased.
Behind the glass sits a fist-sized gem. Hmm, it's all murky. Looks like a pink candy that fell down a sewer drain and got fished out. Still, it resembles candy, so I got curious about the taste. I picked up the gem—
Lick.
Urk. Tastes like strawberry jam way past its expiration date mixed with three spoonfuls of sewer despair. The sweetness has gone sour and rotten, and there's this thick aftertaste of sorrow. If this is some dead person's final emotions turned to flavor, her end must've been pretty tragic. Sorry, but I can't eat this one. I put the gem back.
Storage No. E-0917."Bloodthirsty Demon Sword Blutdunkel" - Grade: AAA+.
Corrupts the owner's mind with bloodlust impulses while enhancing overall physical abilities. The sword of a self-proclaimed demon king who destroyed the world.
A sword. A black-sheathed blade standing in the case. Red vein-like patterns pulse across the scabbard. They even twitch now and then, like it's alive. When I touched the glass, I felt a will from inside. This sword has a ego.
I opened the case and picked it up scabbard and all.
Shing.
The instant I did, the sword half-drew itself and a black sludge surged into my mind.
(...Human. I shall grant you power. You have no right to refuse. The price is eternal slaughter—)
A demon in pitch-black armor charged in like it was about to dominate my psyche, all full of itself. Strong one. The snack providers—Yi Gyu-rin, not to mention Han Min-seo—would've been mind-controlled instantly. But I'm no human, and my inner world isn't just me living solo.
> [Huh, what's this?]
> [Something's coming in from outside!]
> [It's black.]
> [Looks like armor.]
> [Can I touch it?]
> [I'm already touching it!]
> [Who are you? I'm Sensory Analysis Subcluster Division 4, Unit 12!]
> [I'm 13!]
> [I'm 14! Let's be friends!]
> [Why's this black thing flaking off?]
> [Friends with that sewer strawberry jam from before?]
Tens of thousands of thoughts started chattering all at once. The innocent, curiosity-bombarding barrage from these kids showed no sign of stopping.
> [Where'd you come from?]
> [Can I eat it?]
> [Is it tasty?]
> [Why no answer?]
(St-stop—this chaos is—what—!)
The black shadow convulsed. The thoughts didn't let up. If anything, more piled on, drawn by the curiosity. Could this demon sword handle it? There are more thoughts than all the cells in a human body—uncountable. Unlike human cells, they don't die, and they multiply by dividing.
(Wh-what is this mind— no boundaries—infinite—!?)
The half-drawn blade shuddered, then shlicked back into its scabbard on its own.
Clang!
Hmm. No more will from the sword. Must be super introverted. Fair enough. If tens of thousands strangers bombarded you on first contact, even an extrovert would balk. An introvert? Forget it. I stood the sword back in its case.
Storage No. E-1204."Puppet Vaccine-mk7 (presumed)" - Danger Grade: S.
Manufacturer: Microgenerics - Drug that enables remote control of the host upon administration. Presumed developed by CEO Will Bates himself.
A drug that lets you puppet humans remotely. Neat, but what do you even use a controlled human for? Petting without breathing? Sounds okay, but petting without heart probably doesn't taste great. Feels like all-purpose glue from a street stall—works, but useless. Pass.
The cases went on forever. Couldn't spend all day browsing, so I skimmed until I spotted the materials section in a corner. Metal lumps, crystals, mystery alloys. One caught my eye: a head-sized metallic rock.
Huh? Density's off for a rock. I picked it up, and my arm dropped. Insanely heavy for its size. Crunch. Bit down with my molars—didn't break. Heavy and tough. Like squid folded ten times.
> [Neutronium reforged from the nearest neutron star to this planet, RX J1856.5-3754.]
> [Density defies imagination. Matter compressed to the point where atomic nuclei touch directly. How'd it end up on this star?]
Beats me. Anyway, stock up on metals for later. Munch munch. I ate as I walked. My real goal here is separate: recover the gear I made for Yeom Hana. Retrieve it, infuse it with super strength, toughness, all that jazz, then return it upgraded.
Reason's simple. Hanging around the agency, I've learned threats are popping up at higher grades more often, but A-rank Awakeners like her—even S-ranks—are way too fragile. If Yeom Hana dies while I'm playing, that's a disaster. Gotta make her sturdy.
Finding the target was easy.
Storage No. E-1330."Alpha Outer God Derivative Equipment" - Recovered from Masked Warrior Red during warrior phase.
Contamination analysis in progress. Export prohibited.
The gear I accidentally whipped up while restoring Yeom Hana's body from my mistaken disassembly. The thoughts designed it based on her vague memory-image. It's got our sincerity poured in. Can't leave it to gather dust here.
I opened my internal subspace, space warped, revealing a tiny universe. Shoved the armor inside.
Now to put the thoughts to work. You know the drill? Mix in those metals I just ate and make it super strong and tough.
> [………Ehhh?]
> [Suddenly?]
> [No blueprints?]
> [You know how much energy neutronium processing takes?]
Grumbling aside, the thoughts got right to it. They complain a ton but work like champs. Then the glasses-wearing thought piped up.
> [Why go this far? What's the big deal if one human dies?]
It's a big deal. Huge deal. Yeom Hana gets my thoughts a little and can pet me. Who pets me if she dies? The thoughts went quiet. True silence inside is rare. When they all hush at once, my consciousness feels like the void beyond the universe.
Moments later, the glasses thought spoke.
> [……We'll make it as tough as possible.]
Yeah. Thanks. Work resumed, tentacles moving faster now. Aligning neutronium's ultra-dense atomic nuclei into the armor plates' lattice. Reshaping the form bit by bit: smoother curves, seamless joints, thinner yet denser plating.
While the thoughts wove the armor with precision, I sank into my own dilemma. When to give it to her? Saw on my room TV that surprises double the joy. How to startle Yeom Hana and make her happy?
Sneak up and slam it on from behind? Use hair-tentacles to bind her limbs, melt off her usual tank top and leggings clean— Or slip it on while she sleeps? Waking up armored would shock her big time. Surprise. Perfect timing. The ideal moment.
……No clue. Well, I've got time. Can wait a few days. Opportunity will come soon enough.