The Man and the Jam Bread Human
While Amon halted the elevator, creating a forced confined space, the security chief began his tale. George Bread had come from the back alleys. Born to a father burdened with domestic violence and alcoholism, and a mother addicted to drugs and prostitution, he ran away from home at the age of fifteen. With his frail little sister in tow. He knew her condition made running away risky, but he had no choice—the way his parents looked at her had changed from family to eyeing a piggy bank. Unlike his beggar-like parents, she was his one and only blood relative.
After fleeing, George scraped by in the back alleys, doing all sorts of jobs to keep himself and his sister alive. But her condition worsened day by day. She kept falling asleep constantly, to the point where normal life was impossible. He'd never trusted hospitals before and hadn't taken her to one, but now there were no options left. The hospital hit him with a diagnosis and the reality he'd been avoiding.
The patient's sister has a congenital brain defect that prevents her from regulating sleep. This leads to various associated encephalopathies. Without intervention, she risks falling into eternal slumber.
At first, George denied reality, but soon he accepted it. To cover his sister's life-support costs, he resorted to any means necessary. Starting as a mercenary, when he came to his senses, he was an employee in a megacorp's security division. He got lucky. His body had decent compatibility for cybernetic implants, enough to get into security. But his luck ended there. His talents only stretched to the level of a lowly security grunt. A grunt's salary couldn't cover his sister's medical bills and his own living expenses. But he couldn't abandon her. She was his only blood relative, and more than that, he saw a glimmer of hope. A precarious hope that was just within reach. If it had been utterly impossible, he might have given up, but since sacrificing his own life made it feasible, that ambiguity chained him. It was a situation where "mediocre talent is a curse" fit perfectly.
And so George destroyed his own life, kept his sister alive, and clocked in repeatedly as a security division grunt. Then one day, it happened. That day, he was assigned to escort a vehicle carrying unfortunate Jam Bread Humans. Jam Bread Humans were close enough to real humans—only their blood was jam—and often shipped to other companies as human sacrifices since many viewed them that way. George's mission was to deliver them successfully to the client company. It wasn't hard. The terror of Jam Bread Humans lay in their ability to infiltrate groups for assassination, not in direct confrontation. In fact, it was a popular assignment among the grunts because entity-related jobs came with hazard pay. That's why George volunteered, never doubting it would go smoothly.
But George had overlooked one fact: humans could become uglier than anything before money, a ugliness that surpassed even entities.
"Sorry, George."
"M-M-Manager... how could you..."
It was betrayal beyond imagination. The reason? Bounty and performance metrics. In entity-related ops, if an accident occurred due to mishandling, the involved grunts got extra hazard pay. George's manager had schemed for that. Kill all the grunts except himself, report it as Jam Bread Human mishandling, claim the extra pay, and rack up performance points by resolving the incident. He'd prepared meticulously for a long time. Evidence at the scene was perfectly fabricated, and the killings mimicked Jam Bread Human handiwork. George took in the manager's perfect crime with his eyes as he slowly died.
But the manager's dream didn't come true.
Bang!
With one gunshot, George's consciousness resurfaced in the present.
"Huh?"
He let out a dumb sound and saw the manager touching the hole in his own chest. Heart gone, the manager collapsed in despair. George mustered his strength and turned toward the gunshot. Finding the shooter was easy. He was right above George.
'Me?'
A man identical to him, holding a rifle registered with George's fingerprints. Seeing it, curses spilled out naturally.
'Damn it...'
One of his Jam Bread Humans had boarded the transport. Imagining "himself" dying and the imposter walking around in his skin filled him with disgust and worry. What if this Jam Bread Human harmed his sister? But there was nothing George could do. As his consciousness faded, he looked up at the approaching Jam Bread Human and slowly closed his eyes.
Surprisingly, George opened his eyes again. Not in the afterlife, but here in the present. When he did, he was in a clinic center. He looked around to grasp the situation. His Jam Bread Human sat by the bed. George realized it had saved him. But knowing didn't mean understanding. Why? The Jam Bread Human answered his unspoken question.
"I'm you."
"What?"
"What happens to your sister if you die?"
"Ah..."
Only then did George understand. Jam Bread Humans perfectly copied the original—memories, beliefs, everything. The differences? They knew their fate of being consumed and that they were made things. But George's priorities differed. His sister's life mattered more than his own. He'd endure any hardship for her, even death. His Jam Bread Human felt the same. Though it knew it wasn't real, its love for the sister in its memories was genuine. So it couldn't kill the original. Jam Bread Humans mimicked appearances, not abilities. Even if it succeeded in killing George, it couldn't pass as a security grunt, and his sister would die as a result. Knowing this, the Jam Bread Human fought to save the original instead. And when the original awoke, it was prepared to die.
"Kill me now."
That would trigger extra hazard pay. Buy something tasty for his sister with it, said the Jam Bread Human. But George couldn't. He couldn't see this being, who cherished his sister as much as he did, as a stranger. So instead of killing the Jam Bread Human, George chose symbiosis.
"First, let's pick a name."
George named the Jam Bread Human Magey. Magey Bread. Creating Magey's identity was easy. America had no social security numbers, and suddenly having undocumented twins wasn't rare—especially from the slums. Thus, Magey Bread appeared in the world as George's twin. He explained everything to his sister, and the new family member, Magey, started working like George to cover her treatment costs.
Then Magey discovered something. Unlike the original, he had no limits on cybernetic implants. He didn't know why. But while George had limits, Magey could replace his entire body below the neck with machines—his implant compatibility was sky-high. Maybe pastry humans had high mental durability, or the jam blood helped. Whatever the reason, it was true. Learning this, the original and the Jam Bread Human hatched a plan. Magey would impersonate George in security, while the real George cared for his sister. They swapped identities. Afterward, Magey mechanized everything below the neck, rising as a powerhouse in the company and eventually becoming security chief. Security Chief George Bread. His real name was Magey Bread.
Magey Bread's story ended. He shrugged his mechanical shoulders and said,
"You probably won't get it, but that's how it is. I know I'm weird myself."
Not the only one in the company with a tragic backstory like George's. But none coexisted like George and Magey. Jam Bread Humans usually harbored intense jealousy toward their originals from birth. The company had confirmed it across tens of thousands of cases—an absolute rule. They hadn't simply accepted the twins story. In that sense, Magey defied the law entirely. His own theory?
"Maybe I'm like a cancer cell among Jam Bread Humans."
That's what he thought, anyway. George—no, the Jam Bread Human Magey—looked at Amon.
"So, what do you plan to do with me?"
Magey met Amon's eyes, waiting like a prisoner for judgment. Soon, Amon spoke.
"Quite the story. Touching."
"...?"
Magey blinked in confusion at Amon's reaction.
"That's it?"
"What response were you expecting?"
"I figured you'd at least be wary..."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a Jam Bread Human."
"And that's a problem?"
"Of course it is! Even I know Jam Bread Humans harm humans!"
"But aren't you human first, before being a Jam Bread Human?"
"!!!"
Magey's eyes widened at Amon's words. Human? Me? Reading his gaze, Amon continued.
"Yes. Human. To me, Mr. Magey, you're human. Just a slightly special one with strawberry jam for blood."
Those words stunned Magey. He'd never seen himself as human. He'd yearned for a human life, but it was always just yearning. Yet Amon saw him as human. Amon had no philosophical intent. If it acted human, it was human. Simple as that. By his measure, Magey was human.
"More human than that manager who tried to kill George, anyway."
Having seen beasts unworthy of the name, Amon found Magey utterly human. No religious issue either.
'Everything's the Goddess's creation anyway.'
As long as it wasn't from outside dimensions, entities were all the Goddess's creations. Born from her system, powered by divine power as energy. So Amon saw Magey as human.
'I'm a human using divine power too.'
No reason to deny Magey. "I'll say it again: you're a slightly special human with strawberry jam blood." The shock lingered; Magey was still dazed. Amon teased the spacing-out security chief.
"Oh, grape jam? My apologies."
Snapping back, the chief grinned.
"Ode jam."
"Wow."
* * *
Afterward, Amon released the elevator stop and headed for the baker. Jam Bread Humans blocking the way were cleared in seconds. The Amon-security chief duo reached the incident's culprit, the rampaging baker, and stopped it cold, resolving the crisis successfully. As soon as they halted the baker, Amon pulled the precognition box from his pocket.
'Open when the situation's settled, right?'
He unfolded the second paper.
Sometimes, free is heavier than anything else.
Amon grasped Kashi's intent. Don't get cocky with the chairman and lose their leverage—just wrap it up. With his task confirmed, the paper burned in his hand. He headed to the chairman's office with the chief to report. Summary?
"Jam Bread Human extermination complete."
Perfect mission success, even to the chairman. In gratitude, he offered several proposals. But Amon declined.
"I'm here as Recetio Corporation's agent. Please negotiate compensation with our company."
Faced with Amon's firm stance, the chairman relented and agreed to deal with Recetio. Amon exited Lloyd & Life. He headed to the airport to return to Recetio. The chief saw him off. On the way, now without distance between them, the chief asked Amon,
"Any other Jam Bread Humans besides me?"
"None. You're special, Mr. Magey."
"I see."
Pleased by "special," the chief smiled contentedly. Leaving the naturally smiling chief, Amon pulled out the final box.
'Before leaving. Open then, for sure.'
Amon opened the last precognition box. The final prophecy was short and concise.
You can bring him.
Seeing it, Amon could only wryly smile.
'Can't win against her...'
With Kashi's confirmation, Amon acted immediately. He asked the chief,
"If your sister could be cured, would you believe it?"