Congratulations on Your Magical Girl Duties

100 – At the End of All Things

A pure white space, devoid of even a speck of darkness.

In this desolate place, there was a chair made of people… or rather, things that used to be people.

And two people.

However, the final part was a matter of perspective, depending on the criteria used, the number could be perceived differently.

Two people.

Or just one.

Or perhaps no one at all.

If one were to define a person as someone mentally sound, then the man sitting on the chair, wearing a bizarre grin, was not a person.

A natural conclusion. As no one would consider a being that lusted after all mankind to be mentally sound.

In truth, only one person remained who could even call him that.

Conversely, if a whole body defined a person, then the man was certainly one.

Limbs all present and accounted for, his frame unmarked and pristine.

Of handsome mien and perfect proportion.

Truly, he was a person.

Unlike the girl, whose flesh, save for her head, part of her torso, and arms, had been entirely ‘blighted’.

Of course, if both flesh and mind were prerequisites, then there wasn’t a single person to be found here.

Only madmen and shards of humanity.

And so, there were two people here, and yet not a single one.

In that moment, the man, person or not, cast a gaze brimming with mirth.

Upon the girl he now trampled underfoot.

Likewise, a person, and yet not.

“You know? When a magical creature surpasses its inherent limitations, changes manifest according to the nature of their magic. That phrase in novels, ‘breaking the wall,’ it’s realized like this here.”

The girl did not react, but the man continued undeterred.

As if to prove his own madness.

“The trigger is usually a violent emotion, like rage. Some might say enlightenment or resolve, but I’ve never seen anyone like that, personally.”

Ah, but the Sword King was different, perhaps. The man mumbled, then pressed on.

“Excepting special cases like myself, it’s mostly temporary. And then, one becomes… emotional, you might say. Prone to impulse. By breaking the wall, one also crosses the line.”

The man gazed down at the girl, a smile spreading across his face.

A smile as warped as his own sanity.

“That phenomenon, where changes manifest according to the nature of one’s magic, it resembles the dyeing of cloth. So, we call it ‘Dyed Manifestation’.”

A fine term, even by my own standards, he seemed to think, nodding with self-satisfaction.

“Therefore…”

In that moment, the man exerted more pressure with the foot crushing the girl.

Not enough to break her.

But enough to inflict pain, teetering on the edge.

“Whether temporary or permanent, Dyed Manifestation… where will its effects truly appear, I wonder?”

“Don’t… know…”

Nor do I care to, the girl added.

But despite her denial, the man only proceeded to answer his own question. As if determined to deny her any semblance of satisfaction.

“It’s the eyes, obviously.”

The girl ignored the man’s words.

Whether she did or not, the man continued to speak.

“Most pyromancers, the form of their inherent magic, it’s projected and manifested in their eyes, you see.”

In that instant, the man’s hand brutally snatched a fistful of the girl’s hair. Her body, less than half-formed, lifted lightly into the air.

“If that’s the case…”

The man forced their eyes to meet, a grotesque smile plastered on his face.

“Come on, then. Tell me what you see in mine.”

The man’s eyes were as bizarre as his smile.

A shape reminiscent of the sun, but somehow, fundamentally alien.

An impossible number of things interwoven, striving for a false perfection.

As if desperately trying to imitate the sun.

But the girl didn’t utter it. Nor did she voice her pain.

Instead, she spoke something else.

“You talk too much…”

Then, she dredged up a memory.

She needed to select the right words from those her precious hero had told her.

Finally, the girl snickered.

“You’re gonna get your ass handed to you by my hero oppa any minute now—”

“Shut your mouth!!!”

The man flung the girl’s body away, cutting her off.

The girl’s body tumbled wretchedly on the ground. Even so, she glared fiercely at the man.

A deeper, more mocking smile than before played on her lips.

“Worthless trash…”

“I SAID SHUT UP!!!!!!”

His face contorted, devoid of any trace of his earlier smile, the man brutally kicked the girl.

“If you’d just died sooner! My scenario would have been perfect! You were supposed to be that kind of existence! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be reduced to waiting for a chance like this!”

“Then… why don’t you just kill me now…”

“It’s too late now, you b*tch!!!”

The man kicked the girl harder than before. The girl coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Even so, the girl continued to wear a mocking smile.

Uttering the words the Hero had taught her.

“If you don’t like it, then win.”

“Ha.”

*Tuduk*. The man’s sclera bloomed red.

A portion of the blood vessels in his eyes, unable to withstand the overwhelming rage, had burst.

With bloodshot eyes, the man stared at the girl.

“Where should I do it this time? Hmm? The eyes? The ears? Or that goddamn mouth of yours? No, maybe I should just obliterate that whole head of yours!!!”

Before the words could even finish, the man’s hand lunged fiercely toward the girl’s face.

However.

“No, no, not that.”

The man’s hand, reaching for the girl’s face, halted abruptly.

“I need to leave that wretched face intact, more or less.”

He had a use for it. The man grinned, splitting his mouth in a way that befit a madman.

“So, this time, you shall receive your arm, taken whole.”

Words of the man , no different from a proclamation of despair.

But the girl did not answer.

Or rather, she had no time to answer.

With the few fingers she had left, she hastily brought the evening primrose she was clutching to her mouth, eager to chew on it.

In truth, it was hardly a flower anymore. With torn petals and a crushed stem, it was essentially refuse.

But, not to the girl.

A symbol of precious memories.

A small, humble token of a promise.

That was why she could never give it up.

Even if she were to become more wretched than she was now, even if she were to suffer several times more.

As if he didn’t care about the girl’s feelings, the man casually placed his hand on her arm.

“■.”

The man’s voice was difficult to understand, as if obscured by something. She could only discern that it was a single syllable.

And then, the girl’s arm began to be consumed.

The few fingers that remained, the emaciated wrist with bones exposed where they hadn’t properly healed, the lower and upper arm covered in wounds and bruises—all of it.

Head and a portion of torso, and a single evening primrose.

That was all the girl possessed now.

Gazing down at the diminished fragment of a person, the man wore a smile of relief.

“Much better to look at than before.”

And then, he kicked the girl’s body.

“Because you know to shut your yap on your own!”

To bruise, though not to break.

But for the pain to be etched in, just as vividly.

Watching the girl’s writhing, less than a worm, the man slumped onto a chair fashioned from things that had been human and burst into laughter.

“Ah ha ha ha ha!!!”

Laughter belonging only to a being who, though human, was not.

*

Lei couldn’t believe it.

That Kim Si-yul risked everything she had to pick a fight, that a commoner used magic, that she’d actually won the fight in the end.

But, what she truly couldn’t believe was something else entirely.

Kim Si-yul and Lei were, at best, strangers.

Magical colleagues was a generous way to describe their vague connection.

And yet, Kim Si-yul willingly picked a fight for the sake of Lei, someone with such an ambiguous connection.

Against a magical girl with an undeniable disparity in power.

A high-ranking magical girl that even the feisty Sora wouldn’t dare to confront, resorting instead to relatively timid complaints.

‘She said she just did it, but…’

There was no way she’d just picked the fight on a whim.

From the start, Kim Si-yul had nothing to gain from this battle. On the contrary, she only stood to lose if she failed.

And so, Lei couldn’t believe it.

Wasn’t she afraid of discord with others? Wasn’t she scared of being ostracized? How could she make such a decision when there was nothing to gain?

“Hic…”

Tears fell.

She was so pathetic, hurling harsh words at others without thinking, yet unable to say anything at all when it truly mattered.

She felt sorry for not even giving Kim Si-yul a proper weapon, who had fought for her.

She was truly grateful to Kim Si-yul, who, despite the disadvantage of wielding a mere magical iron pipe, had retrieved Lei’s vacation.

Ray wept without end, tears streaming down her face.

“Hey, what are you crying about *now*?”

Kim Shiyul’s voice cut through the air.

The moment she looked up, he was already handing her the Magical Steel Pipe.

“It’s not broken, so give it back to the Company Commander and get the card. Got it? If he doesn’t give it back, tell me.”

Ray took the pipe, her gaze blankly fixed on Shiyul.

“Are you… are you alright?”

“It’s nothing compared to what I used to deal with.”

He answered her question of his well-being with a nonchalant shrug.

But, that couldn’t be the truth.

Ray was certain.

Though not as severely as before, blood was still trickling from where his fingers had been sliced off.

And his complexion was terribly pale. He must have suffered internal magical damage.

It was only natural, really. Hadn’t he used that dangerous magic twice? And the second time, he’d even spat out blood that had welled up in his mouth.

Reckless. He’d pushed himself too far.

Tears began to flow again from Ray’s eyes,

Following the same paths her previous tears had carved.

“I’m sorry… it’s because of me…”

“I told you, I didn’t do it for your vacation. I just wanted to beat that guy up, so I did.”

Shiyul chided her apology.

“Hey, and didn’t I tell you once before? Stop crying so much.”

And then, he chuckled wryly.

“You’re already ugly enough, you’ll just get even *more* ugly.”

It was the same thing he’d said before.

The same words he had spoken when Ray, out of her mind, had hurt him.

Back then, she had just kept crying until she fainted. A truly pathetic thing to do to the person who saved her.

But this time, it was different.

“Okay…!”

And so, Ray smiled.

Filled with gratitude, brighter than she ever had before.

However, Kim Siyul, in truth, only glanced at Ray for a moment before subtly turning his head away.

“No, just cry. That smile’s far more unsettling.”

This son of a…?

For a fleeting instant, Ray felt a surge of anger and opened his mouth. Here he was, going to the trouble of smiling, and that’s the sort of thing he gets in return?

But.

What actually escaped Ray’s just-opened lips was something else entirely.

It couldn’t be helped.

“Uh…? You…!”

Because suddenly, *thwack*, blood sprayed everywhere.

“Arm…!”

From the severed side of Kim Siyul’s arm.