40. Pool of Milk
Jinri and I were like fish being reeled in.
Just as the tuna soaked in golden ink had been easily hooked when fishing with the security boy earlier, we too were effortlessly hoisted into the air.
As we ascended, the full view of the factory gradually unfolded before our eyes.
On nearby conveyor belts, nearly all the factory arms had stopped working and were moving their limbs as if looking up at us. Among them, some had even jointed together, linking arms and glaring at us with arrogant attitudes.
Though not humanoid robots, when the gazes of robots made from the same metal and carbon focused on us all at once, it was impossible to stay calm. Tormented by an unpleasant feeling like being surrounded and appraised by beasts, we were lifted higher and higher.
"Wait a second!"
Finally unable to bear it, I raised my voice.
"What do you mean by 'impurities'?"
In that instant, the arm hoisting us stopped dead, as if leaving a pause that said, "You're poking at that now?"
Then, instead of a reply—or perhaps this was the reply—the arm swung us violently, spinning us 360 degrees several times to build centrifugal force before hurling us forcefully somewhere.
We were thrown at a speed that left us voiceless.
In midair, I hugged Jinri tightly.
I tried to position myself to take the impact underneath, but Jinri, sensing my intent, moved to protect me by getting under instead. As we grappled in the air, each trying to shield the other, we realized such a fight was pointless.
And so, without any impact, we fell into a pool filled with pure white milk.
In an instant, our vision was dyed completely white, with nothing reflecting on our visual sensors except the concept of "white."
Frantically, we tried to grasp the situation using wavelengths and frequencies beyond visible light, but this milk pool had a density that blocked radio waves, acting like a powerful jammer. Infrared, ultrasound—nothing could detect anything.
Reluctantly switching to auditory sensors, even sound was blocked.
The milk absorbed even vibrational sounds, packed densely with an incomprehensible presence. Like the dark matter said to make up most of the universe's mass—or perhaps "white matter" here—it completely shut down my five senses.
I wanted to call "Jinri," but no voice came out.
Complete helplessness, unable to do anything.
But fortunately—yes, fortunately—one sensation still lived in my body.
Touch.
Suddenly, pressure gripped my hand tightly, accompanied by a faint voltage.
In a moment shorter than the Planck constant, I understood what that sensation was.
It was Jinri's hand.
The beloved, precious hand that always drew mine like a magnet in any situation, gripping it firmly—no exaggeration to call it my third hand.
In this pure white darkness, her hand became a definite light, rescuing me from the blinding whiteness.
My body sank completely into the milk pool, which carried a heat as if freshly squeezed.
A stifling warmth, like the humidity and heat of Tropical Night City condensed into liquid.
But Jinri's hand alone was cool, refreshingly so.
That coolness, in turn, felt like warmth in that moment.
Another fixed notion shattered.
I finally managed to move my index finger and began writing on Jinri's palm.
"Jinri"
The many strokes in the kanji took a bit of time.
But tracing her name somehow had the effect of charging my body's battery. Immersed in that strange sensation, the battery depleted from the impact of falling into the milk pool gradually filled, bathing me in pleasant satisfaction.
"Jinri. Jinri, Jinri. You okay?"
Then, Jinri's fingers moved lightly as if smiling and wrote back.
"Why repeat my name so much?"
"Because tracing your name with my finger charges my body on its own."
Jinri's fingers replied gently.
"You were hungry."
I moved my finger as if nodding.
"Yeah. But I can't drink this weird milk."
"What kind of milk is this, anyway…?"
"Milk is milk. It's the nutrients mammals drink for growth right after their babies are born."
"Well, I know that as basic knowledge, but then whose milk is it for?"
The moment Jinri posed the question, a massive shockwave suddenly surged from above.
It was a violent tremor creating a localized vortex, like when we were attacked by the Electric Kraken in the sea of electricity.
I interrupted the palm writing with Jinri and first steadied my body. Desperately swimming to maintain buoyancy, avoiding being dragged upside down deep into the milk pool.
Then, suddenly, my auditory sensors began recovering function gradually.
Like fog clearing, the errors in my ears resolved.
And from afar—as if traveling billions of light-years from another galaxy—a distant sound reached us.
"Huh…?"
Both Jinri and I were stunned by the sound, all our nerves involuntarily drawn to it.
It was a newborn's cry.