A Surgeon and a Blob with Attitude: The Dumbest Alliance Ever

I woke up with a migraine worthy of my worst hangovers.

Cold earth pressed against my back. The damp smell of moss filled my nose. A metallic tang coated my tongue — the kind of taste that usually meant something bad had just happened.

Groaning, I pushed myself upright, rubbing my sore neck.

“Ugh… what the hell happened…?”

My words died on my lips.

A few meters away, a translucent, gelatinous mass was bouncing lazily on the spot.

The slime.
The same slime that had crushed my skull last time like a lead-filled beach ball.

I froze, every sense on high alert. This time, I wasn’t going to underestimate that thing. In my previous life, I’d prided myself on never repeating the same mistake twice — except when it came to women and alcohol.

The creature regarded me with what I assumed were its “eyes,” or rather, slightly opaque zones in its jelly-like body that seemed to function as sensory organs. Its quivering reminded me of a bowl of jelly fresh out of the fridge — innocuous, but deceptive.

No sign of aggression. No sudden lunges.

“…What are you up to?” I muttered, narrowing my eyes.

The slime gave a single bounce, then stopped.

A glowing question mark shimmered briefly across its surface before fading.

I blinked several times.
Did that thing just… communicate with me?

Oh, great. Not only did I get killed by jelly, now I’m talking to it too. Next thing you know, I’ll be attending slime therapy sessions.

“You can understand what I’m saying?”

Another bounce. This time, a bright exclamation mark flared to life on its gelatinous body before vanishing.

Unbelievable.
In this crappy world where some smug cosmic entity had forced me into a new life, the first creature I managed to talk to was a freaking pudding. Even the writers of late-night soap operas would’ve come up with a less ridiculous plot twist.

“All right, listen up, jelly-thing. Last time, you turned me into roadkill. This time, let’s try peaceful coexistence, okay?”

The slime vibrated in a way that could’ve been agreement… or indigestion. Hard to tell with a blob.

I got to my feet cautiously, keeping a safe distance. My medical training had drilled the “observe before acting” reflex into me.

The slime — or rather, she — was about thirty centimeters tall, maybe fifty in diameter. Her consistency seemed firm yet fluid, like a non-Newtonian substance. If I had to compare her to something from my world, she looked like a ball of blue translucent oobleck — soft at rest, but able to hit like a sledgehammer.

She’d fooled me once. Not again.

“And what exactly are you good for?” I asked, folding my arms. “No fireballs? No lightning strikes? Not even a pathetic water jet? Some dumb pocket monster would’ve given me better odds of survival than you. You’re basically… a dessert without legs.”

The slime didn’t react. She simply bounced in place with hypnotic regularity.

“Fantastic. So you’re basically like one of those virtual pet gadgets that beep at you day and night until they die if you forget to feed them. You’re about as useful as Peanut, my ex’s idiot poodle. Fine. Peanut it is.”

The slime’s surface suddenly rippled, waves coursing through her jelly. A giant red X flashed across her body, then disappeared.

“Oh? Excuse me, Madam has preferences, does she? Fine, not Peanut. You look like a failed dessert… pudding? Flan? Purin… Pururun. Yeah. That fits you. Pururun.”

This time, her reaction was milder. A tiny broken heart icon blinked weakly, followed by a hesitant V-sign. It looked like she was accepting the name… albeit reluctantly.

“Pururun it is, then. I’m Ethan. Some crazy celestial jerk reincarnated me into this messed-up world. Nice to meet you, I guess.”

Right then, my stomach let out a thunderous growl, startling my new “companion.” Hunger and thirst hit me all at once.

“Hey, uh… are you edible by any chance?”

Pururun immediately blanched — literally. Her blue hue paled, and she started trembling violently, collapsing in on herself like she was trying to disappear. Several frantic red Xs flashed across her body.

“Okay, okay! Calm down! It was just a theoretical question. Come on, jelly-girl, let’s find some food and a place to sleep.”

I listened carefully. Somewhere nearby, the faint murmur of a stream reached my ears. I followed the sound, and Pururun bounced along behind me, making little squelching noises as she moved.

The stream flowed clear between mossy rocks. I knelt, cupped some water in my hands, and drank deeply. The chill was refreshing, the taste clean — normal enough to trust. I filled the old leather flask that the previous owner of this body had carried.

As I straightened, pain lanced through my ankle like a bolt of electricity.

I looked down to see a black snake, about the length of my forearm, its fangs embedded in my flesh.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Not again!”

The snake released me and slithered into the undergrowth. A dull, burning pain started crawling up my calf like fire ants under the skin. My medical brain was screaming antivenom protocols, but this wasn’t exactly a Tokyo ER with a crash cart nearby. But before I could do anything —

Pururun launched herself at my leg. Her gelatinous body enveloped the wound in a firm but gentle pressure.

“What the hell are you doing — ”

A strange suction sensation spread through my skin — not unpleasant, just bizarre. Dark veins began to swirl inside Pururun’s translucent body, like ink diffusing through water.

She was… extracting the venom.

This tiny blob of jelly, who’d killed me once, was now saving my life like some kind of natural anti-venom pump.

Minutes later, she detached herself and spat out a glob of blackish liquid onto the ground. Her color looked a bit duller, but otherwise she seemed fine. A tiny glowing heart appeared on her surface for an instant.

I stared, dumbstruck. Then I burst into bitter laughter that echoed through the forest.

“Heh! You’re already more useful than half the interns I worked with at the ER.”

Pururun bounced proudly, her upper surface forming something that almost resembled a smile — well, as close as a slime could get. A triumphant exclamation mark pulsed at her top.

For the first time since being dumped into this insane world, I felt a flicker of something close to… hope. Or maybe amusement.

This little jelly creature had just proven she was far more than a level-1 mob.

“Well then, Pururun. I guess we’re a team now. But don’t expect me to get all sentimental on you. You’re still a weird dessert monster in a world that makes even less sense than you do.”

She quivered with what I interpreted as joyful agreement.

It was honestly ridiculous.

My first “companion” in this holy-ass world wasn’t some brave knight, or a bombshell elf, or even a cute little mage girl.

No. It was a moody blob whose only real purpose was to act as a mascot.
At best, she might help me score points with the ladies thanks to her stupidly kawaii appeal.

And yet, as she bounced along beside me, making those annoyingly sweet little noises, I felt something shift inside my chest.

Maybe it was hope.

Or maybe just mild indigestion.

Hard to say.

At least… I wasn’t alone anymore.