Mr. Magical Girl

Chapter 58. Association – Heart

“So that’s why I’ve been running away like this.

This is it.”

••• What an eyesore.”

The Librarian said while cheerfully laughing and going along with the conversation.

Well, jokes about my appearance have been ongoing for a while now.

“Anyway, I have to pass by once, right? The students wouldn’t chase me all the way here, so perfect timing!”

“I think you’re the only one requesting the teleportation magic.”

“It’s my rightful privilege, so what’s the big deal?”

Tap. Tap.

The footsteps of the two heroes quietly echoed in the hallway.

A magical girl in the appearance of a young girl.

A slender blonde scientist.

At first glance, the blonde scientist might look like a simple skinny nerd, but a closer look would reveal something unusual.

The whizzing sound of motors, suspiciously sparkling red eyes.

The glossy, translucent skin on his left hand, with mechanical tendons visible underneath.

The fact that parts of his body are mechanical has increased more than before.

Normally, he kept his skin hidden, so it was hard to tell, but maybe it’s because today is just a simple cleanup operation.

Due to the light clothing he wore, his mechanical body was more noticeable.

“By the way, your mechanical ratio has increased, hasn’t it? Wouldn’t it be better to retire?”

Before you become irreversible like me.

“Not yet. The next generation responsible for purification work, reality adjustment, and other research hasn’t grown enough.”

He continued speaking in a voice mixed with mechanical sounds.

“Even if my body changes into a machine as a side effect, so what? I already have comrades whose bodies are already ruined.”

“If it happens, you’d end up like me. Don’t you see that you’ll become a dressing doll at this age?”

If I had realized even a moment later,
I might have ended my life in shock wearing fluttering clothes.

Those terrifying students.

Returning kindness with malice.

“It’s a noteworthy side effect. Becoming a machine that lives forever and dedicating oneself to humanity. That doesn’t sound bad.”

Hahaha. Creak.

The sound of a rusty hinge echoed from his vocal cords.

Has his throat been consumed already?

“Didn’t you hate the thought that the more your body turns mechanical, the simpler your thoughts become?”

“As I age, those thoughts change. Even if I end up like that, isn’t it my duty to protect the Association and the people?”

Has this guy also chosen the Association as his final resting place?

If it’s the Librarian, he might be able to pull it off.

After all, turning into a spring winding thing.

Even if only pure electricity remains in his thoughts,

I believe he would be the one who would stand for humanity until the very end.

“It would have been nice if it was a series without side effects like Cheonha Ilgyeom.”

“I wish I could say I’m envious, but I can do things he can’t. It’s a matter of give-and-take.”

Martial artists and magicians had no side effects.

Regular folks could use power with sufficient training.

Admittedly, absolute power is lacking, but after more than a decade of training,

You could achieve the strength of a Lower-Rank Hero.

The difference between heroes and civilians lies only in the speed of accumulation and the total amount of power initially possessed.

With the power from the otherworld now present everywhere on Earth, even those who aren’t heroes have started to possess just a little strength, unlike the past.

“Has anyone awakened psychic powers unrelated to the stories?”

“Not yet. There’s a theory that the intensity of the otherworld power needs to increase or some additional process is required.”

I casually threw out the question that crossed my mind, but it seems it’s still not happening.

There were predictions about it.

As Earth gradually became engulfed by the otherworld, special beings like psychics or transformation heroes would awaken on their own, they say.

Since magical girls have a completely different method, they’re excluded as well.

“What about the method to fix the mechanical transformation side effects?”

“It’s not progressing at all. At this rate, my body will entirely become mechanical faster than expected.”

“How many years do you think you have left?”

“It’s rapidly accelerating. At this pace, I’ll be entirely consumed within 20 years.”

So it’s 20 years.

Then this guy will only have about 40 years before turning into such a twisted form.

Why did I end up like this after just 15 years?

As we continued to chat about the current situation, we walked down the corridor.

Numerous authentication devices and passwords.

Passing endlessly through security facilities underground.

Beep. Bleep.

– “Password does not match. Please verify again.”

The third password error alert chimed in.

Beep. Beep.

– “Password does not match. Please verify again.”

Fourth.

Even as the password continued to sound, both the Librarian and I gazed at the iron door as if there was no problem.

Beep. Bleep. Click.

On the fifth attempt, the Librarian finally entered the correct password,

and at last, the massive iron door obstructing our way began to open.

“I couldn’t remember that password at all.”

“It’s plaintext, so it isn’t hard to remember, is it? It’s just five sentences of 60 characters at most.”

It’s tough for my brain.

Forget about a 300-character password; I can’t even remember my game company ID and password.

The fact that you can’t just get it in four tries but then have to input something else afterward, who came up with that idea?

Does the order and combination of those five sentences change depending on the day?

Pretty much nobody would make it this far, so who’s it for?

As I pondered these thoughts, I slowly looked at the iron door as it opened.

A pitch-black place where no light existed, and nothing could be seen.

However, that darkness was merely a prelude before the visitor appeared. As the iron door opened wide enough for a person to pass, lights turned on from the bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

Deep underground, the heart of the Association, known only to a few.

Just a quick glance reveals an unreasonable collection of things stacked up.

The seed of a 0-Rank Monster.

An apocalyptic mechanic that drilled a hole intended to be used as a last resort in some story.

The sealed final boss and officials of a certain story.

Dozens of perpetual machines providing endless energy to the Association.

A clock that could turn back time by sacrificing an entire world.

A despairing crown that resurrects the dead as beings from the otherworld.

But neither of us paid attention to such things as we moved our legs.

Our reason for being in this place today was entirely different.

“What will you feed it?”

“Relationships and existences, I guess. They stood out too much in the last war.”

Better than me.

I need to feed it three: relationships, existences, and emotions.

As we entered the place where they were gathered, I felt a mix of powers.

A similar otherworld of the Infinite Architect.

The reality manipulation of the Librarian.

The surgical room of Oxymoron.

The sealing barrier of Macbeth.

The soul siphon of Calavera.

The theater of the Infernal King, Act 1.

Just the prominent ones alone make six.

But it didn’t end there, as countless powers and machines blended in the space.

A world separate from reality, crafted to ensure that even if something went wrong with just one person, the seal would never be broken.

At first glance, that place resembled a prison.

A long black corridor stretched out with iron barred doors on either side.

Hanging above were metallic nameplates meant for prisoners.

However, on the metal plate that should have displayed the prisoner’s name were strange words.

Relationships, love, past, memory, existence, emotion, life, soul, will…

Endlessly continuing bizarre words.

We walked through that bizarre prison and stood before the door marked “Relationship.”

“I’ll go first.”

“Go ahead.”

The Librarian rolled up their sleeves and reached inside the iron bars.

The quiet murmur of the words they wished to remember was an attempt to recall the relationships they wanted to hold onto.

With the Librarian’s hand reaching in, the slippery appendage slithering on the ground could be heard.

A brown tentacle emerged from the iron bars and grasped the Librarian’s hand.

The tentacle, coated in slime, moved violently and began to writhe on the Librarian’s hand, but we observed it with impassive faces.

Giggity-giggity-goo.

A bizarre mouth formed on the surface of the tentacle.

The strange sound that shook the heart reverberated through the prison, resonating unnaturally.

Gurfgch.*

Gufehuuh.

Wugghahh.

The previously quiet prison became flooded with loud sounds.

Yet even in such a noisy situation, both of us stared at the tentacle with solemn expressions.

The mouth that emerged from the tentacle bit into the Librarian’s arm.

The skin was torn, and blood spilled from the insides. Still, we calmly watched it unfold.

This wasn’t just a simple wound.

It was an act that devoured the relationship we had made, transcending the world’s principles.

However, this deletion wasn’t occurring based on my standards.

There might be a hero who had seen my feat and felt admiration.

Yet I couldn’t know what thoughts that hero had about me.

Perhaps the hero saw me with yearning, and I became a goal for that hero.

An unidirectional relationship someone unknown to me held towards me.

Even such relationships are devoured by that tentacle.

Even if I happen to be unaware, if it’s a relationship I once had, it doesn’t matter.

A power that defies common sense. It suited us perfectly.

Hiding numerous secrets and controlling things so that our names remain unknown.

Offering relationships as food, reducing the number of people who know us.

Offering existence as food, reducing the information the world possesses about us.

Offering emotions as food, cutting someone’s explosive power off.

Offering space as food, hiding this place from the world.

Offering memories as food, concealing the Association’s corruption.

For the most part, the tentacles are enemies to me, but in other stories, there were enemies with the ability to consume across time and space.

This is a space where those abilities have been gathered.

Constricting with numerous restraints and powers so that they merely survive as tools.

A space for us to seize that power.

Perhaps my story feeling infinitely slow could be because of this.

With so many tentacles alive.

While the Librarian, whose flesh continued to be torn away, hurriedly pulled back their arm to maintain distance.

“Did you get bitten? Or did it just not touch you as much?”

“Looks like I got bitten a bit more.”

“An important one?”

“No, just a friend from school.”

“Well, it’s been a long time since we met, so it shouldn’t matter.”

The Librarian smiled bittersweetly and moved towards the next location.

Did they go to feed it existence?

Then it’s my turn.

I rolled up my sleeves and pushed my arm inside the iron bars.

With the Librarian just having eaten a relation, am I still hungry?

Tentacles stretched out at immense speed and began to bite into me.

The tentacle’s teeth didn’t even pierce my skin.

Regardless of physical damage, I could feel the relationships being consumed.

A hero who had gazed at me.

They held admiration for me.

Yet they could no longer recognize me.

The memory may remain.

The fact that the hero known as Crimson Hammer appeared and saved them might stay.

But it wouldn’t matter much.

If asked about it, they would probably shrug and say, “Oh, I remember that.” and move on without recalling their feelings for me.

Even upon hearing the name Crimson Hammer, they wouldn’t be able to conjure it up directly.

Even if the memory resurfaced, it wouldn’t lead to feelings of admiration.

Thus my existence is forcibly erased from society.

From relationships that held no meaning to me.

Slowly, but surely.

Little by little,

my achievements will fade from everyone’s memory and vanish into oblivion.

Maybe I stirred too much this time.

Time passed more slowly than expected, yet I still couldn’t see the line I needed to cut.

Countless relationships vanish.

From those I met face-to-face to those I’ve never even seen their face.

Amidst mulling over each and every one.

Someone’s face came to mind.

The last man I executed as the Black Marauder.

The hero whose teeth were shattered against the stone.

The sinner who cried in repentance at the end.

The relationship with him is about to disappear.

Geez

Why?

He’s the one who could be wiped away without any consequence.

The moment his face popped into my mind, I reacted fiercely and pressed down on the tentacle.

Don’t eat my things anymore.

You can devour my good deeds.

That is something I must do, something I should do without expectation of reward.

But evil deeds are my own.

It’s a burden I must carry.

That Black Marauder’s evil cannot be erased like this.

I forcibly pulled the tentacle away.

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