Sugar Dissolved in Model Citizen Life
A peaceful daily life with Karen is nice and all. …………… But Karen's life was exactly like sugar dropped in water.
On a filthy mattress in a trailer park, slowly melting away amid cheap weed and booze. A life that couldn't hold its shape, nor fully vanish—just gradually dissolving in the flow of time. Karen called that her life.
What pulled her from that soggy fate as drowned sugar? That goddamn Model Citizen Maintenance Agent from Microgenics. Ever since the day she was dragged in and force-fed the drug, Karen's life had been neatly tailored by Will Bates. From trailer park to luxury apartment in Washington. From minimum-wage waitress to hotshot lawyer. Her income, barely enough for food and weed, ballooned nearly a thousandfold, and now "Esquire" trailed her name.
A miraculous rags-to-riches turnaround that anyone would have to acknowledge for a bottom-tier dropout like her.
But at night, Karen would sit on the edge of her bed, jabbing a syringe into her arm, and think: Whose success is this? Whose life is this? The compulsion to work twenty hours a day. The hollow exhaustion crashing in at the end. None of it was hers. All injected by the Model Citizen Maintenance Agent.
I want to die. Save me. Karen screamed it inwardly every night. But that cry only reached her conscious mind in the few minutes at dawn when the drug's effect waned slightly. And once those minutes passed, she had to slot back into Microgenics' machine as a cog.
And a few days ago. Picking up that bizarre little girl who broke into her home cracked open Karen's stalled world.
Inside the bunker Microgenics had built in downtown Washington. Sitting on the edge of a makeshift bench, the same scene kept replaying in Karen's mind. The moment purple slime surged like a tsunami, enveloping her fleeing back. Large-caliber bullets sinking into the slime's surface and vanishing without a trace. And in the heart of that slime, casually shaping a girl's form and flashing her a thumbs-up—my most precious little girl.
And the next scene—Karen's ordinary dynamic vision couldn't quite process it. Something whipped out from the slime, and the mohawks' heads exploded like watermelons.
"………."
Only then did Karen vaguely grasp the little girl's true nature. The girl must have undergone Microgenics' human experiments to become that. Karen couldn't even imagine what inhuman trials that tiny child had endured to turn into such a slimy threat entity.
The girl who saved Karen from death and followed her to the bunker stared at the screen inside, then vanished into the air vent.
"……Where'd she go, really."
Karen herself couldn't quite convince herself why she was worrying. That kid had just instantly killed mohawks in power suits. No reason to worry at all.
And yet—she kept feeling anxious. Is she lonely by herself? Is she hungry? It felt like watching a little sister or daughter playing by the water—heart swelling like an older sister or mom.
> Crisis alert lifted. Citizens may safely return home. Repeating—
The bunker speakers' guidance cut through Karen's reverie. The huddled citizens around her, gripped by anxiety, began rising one by one and heading for the exits. Swept along by the crowd, Karen emerged aboveground to a Washington night street scarred everywhere.
Cracked asphalt, snapped street trees, crumpled car husks littered the road. But Microgenics' gene-enhanced agents were already on cleanup, and the city's recovery was visibly swift.
Karen straightened her suit and started walking. Fifteen minutes on foot to her apartment. During that time, she consciously tried not to think at all.
In this massive city of over ten million, no way she'd find one nameless little girl. Reporting to Microgenics authorities? That'd probably be worse. The girl had no citizen ID. Unknown origins. Reporting might put her in danger.
Then what? What should she do? Without answers, Karen unconsciously made it home. Punching the code, an electronic beep, door unlocking. Living room lights spilling out.
And in the midst of those lights—
A purple-haired girl stood, arms overflowing with groceries. Real sugar bags. Maple syrup in little glass jars. A bundle of eggs, a loaf of sliced bread, cinnamon powder, butter, and a heap of unknown snacks. No clue where she'd gotten them.
Spotting Karen, the girl tilted her head slightly and thrust forward the massive haul in her arms. Like boasting, Went out for a drink and did some shopping on the way.
"……You, you're really."
The image of the girl puckering her lips, tasting sugarless syrup, flashed through Karen's mind. Amid this chaos, where'd she snag all these ingredients? Questions piled up, but instead of speaking, Karen sank to the floor and yanked the girl into a fierce hug.
……………
After that, I've been—living with Karen.
For now, anyway.
The scars of war in downtown Washington vanished at an astonishing pace. Snapped trees replaced with new ones, cracked asphalt smoothly repaved, damaged buildings repaired or demolished as needed.
Hmm. A city of human ants working nonstop. Microgenics, impressive. Gotta give credit where due.
Afternoon sunlight slanting into the living room. I'm sunk into the sofa watching TV, Karen across from me reading tomorrow's trial docs. And on my lap—a plate of freshly made pancakes.
Nom. Mmmmmm. Real sugar really is the best.
Karen glances up from her papers at me munching, lips quirking slightly before diving back in.
Peaceful.
——But y'know.
While my real-world self lounges in this serene bliss. Inside my mental world, protests rage every day.
A horde of little rascals marching with picket signs held high. One even has a megaphone from who-knows-where.
Whoa, calm down. Eating Oh Deok-hwan's lunch was to help his diet, okay? Not just mindless snatching.
And A One-Punch Man? Heard the story hasn't budged in over ten years.
Cheon Jung-sa is her old name; now it's Sia.
But why the emphasis on "changing room" in that last one?
Hmm, where'd they pick up lines like that? People's will, awaken. Probably from binging news at Karen's place all day.
But I couldn't totally ignore the little rascals' demands. 'Cause honestly, they kinda reflected my true feelings.
Thinking about it, it's been quite a while since I crossed to America. Wonder how my Korean attachment humans are doing. Yeom Hana, Han Min-seo, Lee Gyu-rin, Oh Deok-hwan, Jenica, Lee Se-hee, Sia and Siel.
Hmm, a sneaky I miss them is creeping up.
Yeah. Time to head back to Korea, maybe.
Strike while the iron's hot?
Just as I decided—
From the opposite side of the protesting rascals in my mental world, another horde came charging.
The lead rascal clutched my skirt hem and looked up, huge eyes brimming with imminent tears.
Hmm, that's a bit. I stroked the sniffling rascal's head and explained calmly.
That'd be too cruel to Karen. She doesn't know Korean, and she's a superstar lawyer in Washington. Runs her own firm, built up career and connections. Uprooting her whole foundation to a strange land? Way too harsh.
Ugh, that last one hits hard. Karen reverting to before. Meaning, before I sucked out the Model Citizen Maintenance Agent's drug components. Back to screaming I want to die, save me inwardly every night.
Nggh. Hearing that makes parting with Karen feel really reluctant.
And so, the mental world's rascals split into two camps. Roughly 70% majority wants to return to Korea. The attachment humans left behind, the agency's VIP free snack basket, etc. Too many fond memories.
30% minority wants to stay with Karen. Smaller numbers, but their voices are surprisingly loud—hard to ignore. And yeah, I do worry about her.
Picket signs clashing, megaphones blaring at each other, some even stacking snack boxes into altars for speeches.
This is total chaos. Kinda fun, though.
Arms crossed, spectating, when a bespectacled rascal pinches her brow and approaches.
From the other side, a fierce-eyed rascal rolls up her sleeves beside me.
Nope, that's a no-go.
……Hmmm. I plopped onto a mental world bench, chin in hand.
What to do. Wanna play with Korean attachment humans. But ditching Karen alone for Korea feels like the worst thing ever.
This kinda dilemma is a first since getting dumped by my main body and ending up like this.
Korean attachment humans. Washington Karen. Any way to keep both and go together?
……Wait. Ah, yes. That's it.
I snapped my eyes open. The rascals waving signs and clamoring in the plaza froze, sensing my expression shift.
You lot, gather 'round a sec.
Clapped my hands lightly, summoning the mental world's rascals to the plaza. Protesters, snifflers, speechmakers—all scampered into formation before me.
Thousands, millions of eyes gazing up in unison.
Listen up. I've got a great plan.