Episode 3 - Fantastic Vacation
We spent the whole day classifying people based on their access to classified information: researchers who could access secrets and those who couldn't. For the latter, we judged the risk of leaks to be low, so we provisionally cleared them from suspicion and released them from detention. Mostly the junior lab members with short tenures were let go, and they scurried around the facility checking equipment for the inspections.
I spent the day reviewing personnel files and ID cards with the supervisors to decide who to investigate first, greeting outsiders, reporting the situation to Clevins over the phone, and asking the military signals unit commander to send over the communications intercept reports. Time was tight, but the investigation was gradually getting on track, and the lab was preparing to receive visitors.
And then, the next day at 10:17 a.m., Camilla Lowell arrived at the lab.
A crisp autumn breeze tugged at my bangs, slightly stinging my eyes. I rubbed my slightly bloodshot eyes and squinted to focus, spotting a woman hesitantly dismounting from a broom in the distance.
"Camilla Lowell, it's only been two days since we last met."
"Huh? Oh, uh?"
Crimson hair. A startled expression. It hadn't been that long since we parted at the train station, and here we were meeting again. What an oddly fateful situation.
She pointed at me with her finger, her mouth opening and closing like a crucian carp.
"Major…?"
"Yes, that's me. Nice to see you again."
"Why are you here?"
"Well, I'm on official duty. Have some business at the lab."
How to describe Camilla Lowell's expression? A mix of bewilderment, subtle delight, and surprise.
"You're here for your examination, right?"
"Ah, yeah. They said it'd take two days…."
"The lab had some issues, so the schedule got extended a bit. Please bear with us even if it's inconvenient."
"Is it serious?"
"No, not really anything that serious."
Originally, all 917 researchers were slated to participate in Camilla Lowell's exam. But with the industrial espionage issue blowing up, the entire research staff got locked up. We'd released the seniors and full-timers, but with so many still under investigation, wrapping it up in two days was impossible.
But that wasn't her concern. She didn't need to know what was going on at the lab. She shouldn't know. So I brushed it off vaguely and guided her inside.
"Let's head to the lab first. Follow me."
The Advanced Military Magic Research Institute was located at the base of the mountain. Given the cold war-like tensions, security was tight, but it was also prepared for potential attacks on the facility itself. We took the elevator down underground, then hopped on a tram that wound through the subterranean world.
"Whoa…."
Camilla Lowell let out exclamations nonstop as she gazed at the scenery reflected in the window. An underground secret lab straight out of a movie would feel like a whole new world to an ordinary college student like her.
"Impressed?"
"Yeah!"
She flashed a bright, innocent smile. The tram glided along the tracks, revealing the bizarre sights of the underground lab. She stared entranced for a good while, her mouth slightly agape—she was totally hooked on the view.
I watched her from the side, then glanced back at my notepad.
"First up, we'll test Camilla Lowell's abilities."
"I thought it was about my magic?"
"We don't know for sure if it's magic."
Whether her power was magic or something else—we still didn't know. Why not? Because of the unique nature of Heroes. Historical records showed past Heroes using entirely different abilities. Some wielded divine power, others magic, some just brute strength, and others… who even knew. With so few samples and all of them different, it was hard to pin down.
"So today's test is to figure out what your ability is."
"Hmm… I hope it's magic."
Camilla Lowell, who had been humming thoughtfully, suddenly declared she wanted it to be magic.
"Prefer magic?"
"Not prefer, exactly… I just have this fantasy about it."
Fantasy? I tilted my head in confusion, and she giggled, clearing it up.
"…Harry Potter."
"…What the hell is this?"
"Mana affinity measuring device."
The first test was mana affinity measurement. The name evoked images of slapping a hand on a crystal ball and having light burst out to gauge your power.
"…Like a vending machine?"
"Yes."
Reality was nothing like that. Camilla Lowell stared at the machine with a dumbfounded look.
"What did you imagine?"
"I dunno, like putting a hat on your head or something…."
Where'd that come from? As I dredged up decades-old memories trying to place it, a researcher prepping the device answered.
"Measuring with crystal balls or hats was the old way, decades ago. About twenty years back, they switched to machines."
"That's what they say."
"Hmm…."
As she frowned at the device, elite grad students from top universities grunted and finished setup. I dropped a hint that any screw-ups meant investigation room—or jail—and they straightened up fast.
"Now, just put your hand inside the machine."
"…It'll be fine, right?"
"It's okay. We've all used these since we were kids."
With the researchers sweating bullets to reassure her, Camilla Lowell cautiously inserted her hand. Everyone—mages, suits, guards—swallowed dryly in tension.
"Huh?"
One researcher peering at the panel made a dumb noise. He poked buttons, opened the machine, checked wires, tried everything—even smacked it.
"Problem?"
"N-no, not exactly…."
"Is there a problem?"
"No! Just… give us a moment…."
The guard's tone startled him into begging for time. Someone flipped through the manual, another rewired the insides. Amid the chaos of mages, researchers, and guards, Camilla Lowell and I exchanged baffled looks.
"Did you break it?"
"Did I do something wrong…?"
"Why ask me?"
She eyed the machine puzzled; I seriously pondered if she'd have to pay repair fees.
How long did we wait? Just as impatience set in, a researcher shouted.
"We'll measure again. Sorry, one more time…."
Camilla Lowell stuck her hand in at his plea. And then—
"Uh…?"
The machine erupted in a flash of light.
Mana measurement complete
"…For now, we've determined the Hero uses magic."
The senior researcher, eyes teary, rubbed his sleeves across his face.
"Sorry, tears are coming out…."
"It's fine."
He rubbed until his face was red, then sniffled and began explaining.
"Your mana affinity came out extremely high. And sometimes, during measurements, this happens."
"…Is the machine going haywire a common thing?"
"No, no! It's super rare. Once in a century, if that."
He waved his hands frantically, backpedaling. Midway through, the device flashed and smoked like a blown power supply. Machine fault or not, I wouldn't know. All I remembered was getting eye-fucked and crawling on the floor. The researchers panicking, guards freaking, Camilla Lowell toppling over in shock. With the bombing just two months ago, reactions were bound to be jumpy. I might forget, but she'd suffered from it for a while—total trauma trigger.
Fortunately, no injuries, so I calmed down and listened.
"I'm no expert on the machine, so I can't explain details. But it won't explode or harm your health."
Camilla Lowell, who'd been listening quietly, sighed in relief and patted her chest. Seemed fine aside from the scare. Gauging her reaction, the researcher wiped sweat and showed the results.
"S-so, your mana affinity is extremely high."
"I heard that part."
"Ah, yes. And there's more to explain about the affinity score."
I nodded, and he cleared his throat.
It felt like a doctor briefing patient and guardian.
"Mana affinity isn't just about how much mana you can wield. We call people with scores above a threshold 'mages,' but that's really just about whether you can smoothly use magic with mana."
"Like a license."
"Exactly, a kind of certification."
He pointed at the chart with a pen.
"Higher affinity means faster growth and higher limits. You learn spells quicker, handle more total mana sooner."
Great news. Already compared to elite mages, where would she go from here? She'd crush most Magic Tower mages for sure. Magic was a systematized field; she'd just study books, no hermit mountain training needed.
And good for her too.
"Magic…."
She muttered with mouth agape, unable to believe she was a mage. The researcher droned on about her abilities and magic. As time passed, she nodded dazedly, still processing.
The senior researcher finally wrapped up his epic explanation.
"…Thus, we judge a detailed magic examination for the Hero is necessary."
Once we knew it was magic, we ran more tests: how much mana she could handle, how she controlled it, etc. Researchers observed against evaluation criteria. Combat-capable ones handled assessments; later analysis from footage. Results pending, but their reactions suggested she had serious talent. Hero perk? Innate gift? Unclear. But damn, she handled magic well.
"Kwaaaah…!"
Whoosh~!
Camilla Lowell roared like a dinosaur and spat fire from her mouth. The intensity evoked a flamethrower, but the flame was adorably tiny, barely a handspan.
"Major! It worked!"
She beamed innocently, showing me the skewer. Two golden-brown marshmallows.
The blaze that turned a minibus-sized monster to ash in seconds was now delicately toasting marshmallows. Untrained, yet controlling mana like a pro.
"Want one?"
"…Sure, thanks."
I popped the warm, browned treat in my mouth. Chewy, crispy sugar—pure artery-clogger.
"Tasty."
"Right? More?"
"Yeah."
Tests done for the day. We chatted, roasting marshmallows over her flame.
"How've the last two days been? Heard you were at a hotel."
"Boring aside, fine. You?"
"Reported to the boss, took a few days off."
Brazen lie. No rest, vacation overdue, glued to a spy-infested lab. Felt like I'd been lying nonstop since meeting her.
"Oh, right. Tomorrow, ability tests and physical exam together."
"Physical?"
"Think health checkup."
Skilled researchers short, but manpower and gear remained. They'd struggle analyzing without expertise, but not my problem. Arts majors don't sweat that—science folks handle it.
"Lab issues mean ability focus till tomorrow. But we need to pinpoint the fainting, so dual track."
"How's ability testing? Magic into a machine like before?"
"Heard it's mock combat. No details."
I wasn't privy to her full schedule. Officially, I was here for investigation updates in Clevins' stead; tagging along was extra. Probably couldn't tomorrow.
As I thought that, the wall intercom buzzed. Camilla Lowell, munching marshmallow and chocolate, grabbed the receiver.
"…They want the major."
"Me?"
Who? Trouble? I snatched it quick.
"Major Frederic Nostrim."
"Major, this is Internal Affairs."
"Go ahead."
"Please come to the conference room."
Key evidence? I started to ask what, but they beat me.
"Communications intercept report just arrived."