Mr. Magical Girl

Chapter 46. A Forest That Won’t Fall Even After Being Struck Once

“No way (2)”

“Uncle, wake up.”

Something was blocking my response, kind of like a filter.

That ugh ringing voice. Just from that peculiar tone, I could tell who was calling me in no time.

“How many hours left?”

“About 25 hours.”

Slowly.

I knew the Otherworld’s monsters move slowly, but they were moving at a pace even slower than I imagined.

Could it be to cover up their slow weakness from the damage they share during this slow Otherworld invasion?

As I opened my eyes, I noticed the meeting participants leaving the conference room, each carrying their own materials and weapons.

With 25 hours left, maybe I should go check on my students.

Thinking of that, just as I was about to get up…

Thud

I heard the sound of my body hitting the floor from the chair.

Turning my head towards the source of the sound, I saw a mountain of syringes and strange ointments piled up. The syringe embedded in me must have fallen on top of it.

“How does your body feel?”

“Felt fine until just now.”

The moment I thought all that had gone into my body, I instantly felt sick. It looked like way more than my body’s volume.

It was clearly the work of the oxymoron, but the librarian sitting next to me and Cheonha Ilgyeom were also accomplices in this.

“Are we on standby again this time?”

“No, we’re deploying this time.”

“Just take care of about three of them.”

Personally, I wished the oxymoron’s operating room would kick in, but there was no way to meet the conditions on this battlefield.

Should I ask first?

“How much of the condition is met?”

“63%.”

That seems tough.

In this place, people wouldn’t die enough to fill the remaining 40%.

Isn’t the oxymoron with its most useless S-Rank skill in this peaceful world?

Despite having the healing magic that opposes the operating room, it was the most active.

As I pulled out the syringe still stuck in my body, I spoke to the oxymoron.

“Want to go see the students?”

Since I hadn’t received any info about them being dead, they must be alive.

“Are they alive?”

“Yes! Master!”

“They’re dead.”

Poyooook!

One student rushed over, like a pet dog I hadn’t seen in days.

One student integrated with the bed since he died.

Next to them, a white rag twisted and dying.

Still, extremes as always.

“Haram-nim has returned… Uh-Ah?”

I tossed the rag that had fallen beside the bed to the oxymoron.

“Whether it’s a glucose injection or whatever, just stick whatever you can in.”

“Sure thing.”

A clinking ominous silver liquid swirled in the huge syringe.

Is it mercury? Why does it look so ominous? It must be plain water.

“I don’t want the injection! Poyooook!”

Well, being a mascot, I guess it won’t die.

I opened the refrigerator in the student dormitory, but all that was there were fruit juices and sparkling water.

While mixing the liquids in the fridge, I sat down and opened my mouth.

“Why is Abin like that?”

“She lost.”

“She lost. Please save me.”

“And you?”

“I’m on my way from swinging a hammer in the training room because I’m overflowing with power!”

I didn’t ask about that.

When the sparkling orange grape soda in the cup began to take on a strange color, I looked at my students’ faces as I passed it through my mouth.

Baek Sihyeon, smiling brightly.

Han Abin, with a face that looked like she was dying.

It was their first deployment, but it didn’t seem like it was going to become a trauma for them.

Despite seeing people die and facing formidable enemies.

Should I ask for their feelings?

“It’s your first time on the battlefield, how does it feel?”

“It was hard, but rewarding. The fact that I could save people.”

“And you, Abin?”

“I didn’t feel anything because I was only thinking about saving people…”

“What do you mean by saving people?”

“I kept asking Sihyeon where to go. It was a gut feeling, and I’m glad it worked out.”

“You got it all right, talk about being humble!”

Slap!

Baek Sihyeon slapped Abin’s back, and whether it was painful or not, a strange sound erupted from Abin’s mouth.

Is she not just tired, but also sore?

More importantly, it’s the fact that Abin gave Sihyeon instructions.

Was Baek Sihyeon appearing in that situation also due to Han Abin’s instructions?

“Abin, how did you know the enemies would appear at the fort?”

“There were repeated calls for help at the fort’s location over the intercom, and the hero calling for help was different each time.”

“That alone isn’t enough. Explain in more detail.”

0 0 0

Even as Han Abin buried her face in the blanket, it seemed like she was trying to recall the memories from that time, releasing a strange sound.

“I heard the sound of shells being fired even after the talk of retreat started. Also, I don’t know how to say it, but it felt like the gray crabs’ gazes were generally focused above the barrier…”

She buried her face in the bed again, as if thinking about something.

When I thought about the gray crabs as one giant crab, it seemed that the next pincers were swinging there.

A gut feeling.

When I first met her, I thought it was just a simple battle sense.

Reading my movements and predicting the next direction, or else she couldn’t keep up with that speed.

When dealing with Baek Sihyeon and the monsters, I thought she could process a lot of information coming into her field of vision.

It was a misunderstanding that arose from thinking separately about battle sense and information processing.

From the beginning, this kid had an exceptional ability to envision the future.

She fit together solid information with fragmented external information, acquiring a capability as a commander to read the future.

I thought she was specialized in platoon or squad levels, but it sounded like a mere thought.

In Han Abin’s eyes, whether it was tens of small skirmishes or a single formidable enemy, they all probably looked the same.

Maybe I should ask Infinite Architect when it’s over.

I thought of putting it in the curriculum for the Association’s squad leaders, but it was an incredible talent beyond imagination.

For now, she’s not a theoretical kind.

Seeing her unable to explain it clearly indicates that trying to teach her by the book would likely be meaningless.

The closest comparison would be like Infinite Architect, who ran off on instinct, ignoring even Macbeth’s commands.

First, let’s test her and if the results are weird, transfer her to the formal curriculum.

“Sihyeon, do you understand what she said?”

“I heard it during break, but I don’t get it.”

“That’s how to use future foresight properly.”

Using a small piece of information to envision the future. Such predictions always lack a final dot, so they can never be definitively answered.

Missed or misheard information, information that can’t be obtained. Such variables.

However, with the addition of future foresight, that calculation becomes complete.

Predictions can be significantly twisted with slight variables, but with future foresight, the foresight also adds new information.

The future she envisions and the future revealed by the foresight. The closer these two are, the more it indicates that she has grasped all the information.

Whether moving according to future foresight or trying to change the future, just the fact that she missed pieces of information holds great value.

“Try your best to envision the future like Abin. That way, the power of your future foresight will grow.”

She didn’t quite get it.

Even while saying it vigorously, her expression was one of confusion, her lips quivering and her pupils swirling around.

For now, I should be satisfied with the fact that she’s aware. Although it flowed in a strange direction, what I really wanted to ask was:

“Have you seen someone die?”

At those words, my students’ faces hardened.

As expected, that overly bright demeanor was perhaps a cover for something.

An awkward silence fell in the room.

Loss rate 1.1%.

Most of the casualties were from the soldiers or the Association, but for recording in just 48 hours, that was a devastating figure.

Considering that the retreat began roughly around 30 hours or so, the battle took one life per hundred within a day.

They might not have seen it.

One in a hundred is just that. It seems large in numbers, but for someone within, it’s a number one can’t perceive.

So, what kind of scenes did these two witness?

“It was my fault.”

“No, I arrived late so…”

“No, I did it on purpose. To save more people.”

Finally, Han Abin raised her body from the bed and looked at me.

“Do you know triage?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s a medical term…”

Han Abin trailed off, glancing at my face.

Slither

I tilted my head back and opened my mouth towards the oxymoron.

“Not creative?”

“I don’t know.”

“Poyo, help me…”

As expected, it was a quack doctor.

Expecting sense from the mentally spaced-out oxymoron was my mistake.

Ignoring the bubbling Unho like a balloon, I turned my gaze back to Han Abin.

“It’s a method of prioritizing who to save. Based on injury status, whether treatment is possible, the current backlog of patients, and the number of medical personnel.”

A brief silence.

“And there’s a classification called ‘black’.”

Han Abin’s words became murkier.

“Means death or no point in treatment. It’s like giving up on a unit in a war. Units that can’t be rescued by any means are bound to exist.

And the answers regarding them were mostly the same: instead of putting many in danger, abandon the rescue of that unit.

Through countless choices and experiences, it’s a statistically better answer.

“I considered those people black. That no matter what, they couldn’t be saved. It was like the face of someone I saw in that accident who had been crushed.”

No one spoke up.

This was the heavy burden Han Abin carried from this war.

“But I heard. Those soldiers were alive until the moment Sihyeon came back after saving someone else.”

The last ounce of strength in a crisis, unforeseen variables – there could be numerous reasons.

But in the end, they weren’t black.

“What if I had sent Sihyeon to them? The place where Sihyeon would have gone wasn’t all that dangerous. If I had rescued the blacks first, and then the others…”

Han Abin swallowed her words.

It seemed hard for her to say that last part.

“If I had gone a little faster, I could have saved them.”

“No, my choice was wrong.”

Baek Sihyeon stepped in to support her, yet the plummeting dark emotions continued to spiral downward.

You fools.

“Oxymoron.”

“Contact the command center and get the data. How many people did Baek Sihyeon save?”

As the oxymoron activated the communication device by my ear, I turned to my two students and asked,

“How many died?”

“Three out of five. It was a small unit made up of soldiers.”

“Han Abin, this isn’t your first time, right? You must have seen people die before. Isn’t that right?”

“Then why do you look so gloomy this time?”

“Perhaps because I caused someone’s death through my judgment.”

Judgment, huh? That’s a funny statement.

“How could you know what will happen? If you save those five blacks and three die on the opposite side, is that your judgment wrong? I bet you’d react the same way!”

Before Baek Sihyeon and Han Abin could say anything, I interrupted.

I’d heard enough about not dividing people by value or not counting people by numbers to the point where it was giving me a headache.

“That’s it. The past can’t be undone. Don’t obsess over those who died outside your hands. It’s impossible for anyone to save everyone on the battlefield.”

Taking a breath, I continued.

“Just because you can’t forget them doesn’t mean you have to. Abin. The three who died was because you didn’t read the situation accurately. Baek Sihyeon, the three who died were because you couldn’t move fast enough.”

In truth, if we analyze it that way, isn’t it also my fault? If I were strong enough to wipe out all the enemies at once. Hiding those feelings, I kept going.

“If that frustrates you, then get stronger. Strong enough that people won’t die.”

If I could have taken down their commander at the start.

I, who had been hiding those emotions, suddenly felt the oxymoron’s hand cut off my words.

“The data is out.”

“How many?”

“Verified individuals: 64. There are still 16 unverified data. Definitely worthy of a medal.”

“Then you saved at least 70 people.”

It seemed they didn’t even know exactly how many they saved, their eyes wide with surprise, I turned to my two students.

“This is the result of all your hard efforts.”

Just for a moment, I paused.

“You saved 70 people, and yet you think you couldn’t do what a hero is supposed to do?”

Standing from my chair, I left, taking the inflated Unho and the oxymoron with me as we passed through the door.

“While you’re feeling sorry for yourselves, think about how many more people you can save next time. If you plan to continue living as heroes.”

With that firm statement, the door closed and I yelled out loudly into the calmness behind it.

“Good job!”

I swished my way down the hallway.

Following behind me, the oxymoron let out a creepy chuckle as she stood next to me.

“You really don’t know how to compliment people, do you? Feeling embarrassed or something?”

“Shut it.”

“Show your students a bit more kindness.”

Unho seemed to be regurgitating something in his mouth, starting to retch, but that’s none of my business.

“Such bright kids. It’s amazing they can complain over things like this.”

“That’s right. We’ve become too accustomed to seeing the dead as numbers. Can they really mourn over the three people that died right in front of our eyes?

In war, people die naturally, and we know that no savior will save everyone.

We only strive to reduce the numbers.

“Isn’t that what heroes like those kids are supposed to do, instead of wallowing in our festering puddles?”

“Then it’s a good phenomenon, because it means the next sprouts will grow well.”

“Is that so?”

Feeling unexpectedly good with the oxymoron’s words, I slowly walked down the hallway.

“Urggh, can someone get me some water…”

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