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✎ Interviewee: Gummy Bear
✎ Transcript: Keeper Who Was Emotionally Blackmailed into Career Resignation
Hello, I’m Gummy Bear.
I do have a real name, but you never remember it, so I stopped bothering to correct you.
I was born in a place called “The Candy House,” run by a beautiful and terrifying witch named Lily.
I slept through most of that memory.
Anyway, by the time I woke up, I was already here, with a label stuck on my head:
“Low-risk creature. Recommended feeding: one candy per day. Will slack off.”
Every morning (around 3 p.m.), I first evaluate whether the day is worth opening my eyes for.
If the air pressure’s too low, the room’s too bright, or you look way too energetic, I choose to go back to sleep.
It’s called self-preservation.
They say I have the ability to produce “stardust,” which is apparently some weird byproduct that extends human life or improves sleep quality.
But that’s not the point. The point is: every time I work, I get candy as a reward.
This taught me something important — under capitalism, if you nap, they’ll still feed you.
I know you think I’m lazy, useless, and unserious.
It’s not that I don’t try — I just literally have no energy.
My life goals are simple:
Eat candy, glow a little, get head pats, and quietly get sticky in some unremarkable corner.
(Oh, and never get sent to the frontlines. Seriously. Never.)
Sometimes, the keeper stares at me for a long time.
He says the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes are my fault.
I don’t know what to do… I’m not a time machine.
But he looks kind of cute when he’s about to drop dead, so… I behaved myself for a moment.
Anyway,
Thanks for flipping open this artbook and making it this far.
If you’re also someone who’s woken up, shoved into society, and forced to shine every day,
we’re on the same side.
Take a nap at the base with me.
Over here… there’s nothing you have to do.
