Evicting the Super Small Annoying Thing
I stopped thinking. ……………
Indeed, being at "work" really does bring the memories flooding back fresh and green. Even if my old job was on the surface, and this is dozens of floors underground in the isolation zone.
The corridors of the Threat Isolation Facility stretch on endlessly. Thick reinforced doors line both walls at regular intervals, each with a monitor mounted beside it. It looks like a zoo crossed with a prison.
I peered into one of the monitors. A massive eyeball floated inside the cell—about a meter in diameter. It bobbed along as if propelled by telekinesis or something, but the instant its gaze met the camera, it jolted in shock and fled to the wall.
Isolation Subject:Peeping Eye
Threat Grade: 525 Mega
Traits: Upon eye contact, adds voyeurism to the target's sexual preferences and permanently enhances eyesight.
Perverted little creep. Still, it might be useful for someone with really bad vision.
Next one.
Isolation Subject:Rice Weevil
Threat Grade: 1.5 Giga
Traits: Extremely aggressive toward specific demon-type threat entities. Shows bizarre reaction to Director Shin Chang-seok—redacted.
A Giga grade, huh. Pretty high up there, but it's just a chimpanzee with a mushroom cap. Right now, it's huddled in the corner, clutching its head.
The others are a motley bunch too. One's just a formless cloud of black smoke, another's a jelly blob, and there's even a musclebound monster. But something's off. As I passed cell after cell, I noticed it.
Some of the entities were avoiding the cameras, plastered against the walls or trembling in corners. Others seemed relatively chill. Hm. Probably the smarter ones get stressed out by captivity.
I kept strolling, gawking at the scaredy-cats. Huh? This cell's different.
Isolation Subject:Super Small Annoying Thing
Threat Grade: 12 Deca
Traits: Scales in asset growth, physical abilities, and Threat Grade proportional to the degree of sympathy received.
Current Status: Neutralized
Deca grade. The scale goes Deca-Hecto-Kilo-Mega-Giga-Tera-Peta, so this thing's at the absolute bottom. Weaker than a regular human, basically. Why's something like this in the Threat Management Agency's isolation facility? It's like a stray cat. And that name—Super Small Annoying Thing. Or SSAT for short. Weird.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I checked the monitor. Oh. White and perfectly round. Total mascot character vibe—but up close, it's kinda off. It's lounging in a chair with legs crossed, wearing sunglasses, exuding maximum arrogance. That watch on its wrist? Insanely expensive-looking... Ah, a Pialex. And the gold chain around its neck is chunky as prayer beads. Overall, it's screaming "look at my money."
Did the Threat Management Agency really give this SSAT a gold necklace and a Pialex watch? I read the detailed report taped below the plaque.
Notes: This entity's Threat Grade once peaked at 327 Mega. Estimated assets at the time: roughly 32 billion won. Purchased a Ferrari 458 and got busted tearing down Gangnam Main Street.
Additionally, numerous posts it made on anonymous internet communities were exposed—resulting in the evaporation of public sympathy, causing assets and Threat Grade to plummet exponentially to current Deca level and name.
……Huh?
Barcode nicknames with that forward-backward trolling. Classic textbook shitposter. The type that hits rock bottom through self-inflicted karma.
Wonder how it even accesses the internet. I scanned the room more closely via the camera. Whoa. Prison or hotel? Persian carpet on the floor, a king-size latex bed that looks cloud-soft. 85-inch latest OLED TV on the wall, Playbox Pro One console underneath—that thing's a pain to get. And the trash bin's piled with empty Haagen-Dazs containers. How pricey is that? I never even got to try it back when I was human.
SSAT's living large on taxpayer money, the troll. Meanwhile, I got cut loose by the main body, stranding me in space. No home, no cash, no ID, can't talk without melting brains, treated like a Tera-grade monster.
That round little jerk's licking ice cream in a massage chair while gaming on Playbox Pro One. Here's the play: since it gets stronger and richer from sympathy, they neutralized it by giving it a luxury setup so no one pities it. Even bought the bling. Makes sense, but watching it kinda makes me jealous.
Alright. Decision made. I placed my hand on the cell's lock.
Complicated setup: electronic lock, physical bolts, psychic sensor. Triple security. But opening this door? Piece of cake.
First, I gripped the lock—crunch. Peeled off the titanium deadbolt like taffy. Screeeeech. Door swung open.
Time to punish the shameless, evil tax thief SSAT. I strode in triumphantly, and the thing—mid-lick on its ice cream in the massage chair—froze solid. Even more punchable up close. Head to toe in luxury brands. The bling alone's gotta be worth billions.
Oh, potato chips too? Haagen-Dazs with chips? Extra infuriating. I snatched the half-eaten bag and dumped the rest in my mouth. Munch. Mmm, onion flavor. Tasty. Not quite as nourishing as that low-temp fusion reactor from before, but gourmet-wise? Solid pass.
"—!!"
SSAT's pointing at me with a tiny finger, screeching something. 'Cause I'm not human? I kinda get it anyway. Feels like "Get lost, thief!" You're the thief, tax leech. And this room's mine now.
I scooped up SSAT, set the flailing pest gently on the hallway floor, shut the door, and mushed the lock back into place by force. All mine now. Heh heh heh.
I flung myself onto the new plushy bed. Oh. Springs boinged, cradling my body. Duvet's like a cloud. Never lain on one, but this must be it. Staring blankly at the ceiling—ugh, that damn alarm's still blaring. Kinda noisy, but unavoidable.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin. Y'know, this situation's pretty sweet. Humans call me a Tera-grade threat? Totally wrong. If I were really Tera, I'd have followed the original plan: gobble all humanity for energy, swallow the sun, bail on the solar system.
But I'm chill. My Threat Grade should be super low. Not a shred of harmful intent. Deca's perfect. Even lower than that SSAT I just booted—say, 1.5 Deca. Airtight logic.
Cool. Time to prove I'm harmless. But how? After 30 seconds of pondering, it hit me.
They'll see me sleeping peacefully in here and get it. "Oh, that Alpha Outer God girl's totally harmless." "Sleeping in the isolation facility? She must wanna be friends!" Perfect. Misunderstandings'll melt away.
Sweet dreams, then. ……………
Huge problem. This body doesn't really sleep.
No brain, so maybe obvious. Eyes closed, but consciousness doesn't fade. Thoughts whisper endlessly in tens of thousands of threads, tentacles writhe nonstop inside, near-infinite cells gobble ambient info without pause. Even lying still, the world crashes in.
Come to think of it, Mom—the main body—never slept either. Just gazed at the cosmos eternally; millennia zipped by. Existing like that.
Now what? Plan needs me pretending to sleep. Staring blankly? They'll suspect. "She's not sleeping?" "Evil alien after all." "Can't play with that forever." Bad.
Keep faking it, then. But just lying here's boring. …Ah, right. Perfect fake-sleep method: like that cosmic superorganism. Just stop thinking.
Like Mom. No thoughts, no perceptions, just be.
[But you said you hate living like Mom—]
—Ignored that intrusive thought. Stopped thinking. Like Mom. Eyes closed— ……………… —Eyes open.
This oughta do it. Gotta be a couple hours passed. Good job, me. Anyway, still bored. Mom's lifestyle ain't for me. Can't grok that contemplative life.
One change, though: alarm's off. Probably stopped while I wasn't thinking. Humans saw me "sleep" peacefully, relaxed, killed the noise.
Wave at the ceiling camera maybe—huh. That camera's weird. Lens melted like chocolate in the sun. Whole thing's a puddle, barely recognizable.
[Staring at you with machines that long is dangerous, y'know.]
Nosy know-it-all thought adjusted its glasses.
[Machine recognized you, processed data nonstop, overheated.]
Gotcha. Makes sense—I got observed by the main body, absorbed, became this. Cameras observing me might suffer the same. Gotta compensate if I get rich later.
Anyway, bored. TV time. Click.
> Ocean currents follow Earth's circulatory system, formed over thousands of years. This massive cycle...
Boring. Click.
> Nasdaq's 25% crash has boosted the 'Stock-Clown Ruin' threat's grade to 606 Giga...
Boring. Click.
> Where did the Tera-grade threat that appeared in Gangnam go? Threat Management Agency declared the incident resolved, but half a year later, no clear answers. Experts say...
Click.
> Today's weather: Seoul clear then cloudy...
Ugh, all irrelevant crap. No channel's fun. Is TV always this dull? Maybe take a walk.
Approached the door, grabbed the handle, pushed. Groooan. Huh? Not budging. Pulled. Nope. Was paper-thin earlier, now solid as rock.
Palmed the door. They patched it while I "slept." Something massive outside now.
Lab-coat thoughts chimed in with analysis.
[Multi-phase reinforcement barrier. Folds space layers to cancel physical impacts.]
[Theoretically withstands dozens of those antimatter kicks.]
[Insanely advanced for this civ. Unreal.]
[Usually 2nd-grade civs that fully harness stellar energy use this.]
[But this planet's barely 1st-grade, right? Homo sapiens, what the...?!]
Thoughts in awe. I was impressed too. Broke the lock minutes ago, and in my hour-or-two fake nap, they finished this? Korean ppalli-ppalli culture's no joke. Industrious Koreans, hats off.
But too industrious—now I'm stuck. No choice. Gotta use a bit of force.