Clearly a Serious Situation, But... Damn, the Mood's Totally Ruined
It was clearly a serious situation, but... damn, the vibe's completely wrecked.
"No, what the hell do you guys think people are?"
I finally ditched the polite speech even for the new viewers reacting in chat. Honestly, it wasn't totally baseless hate. My way of handling juniors didn't exactly align with modern ethics, sure. But even in that other world, I never actually let them die during training. Usually. Sometimes they really did kick the bucket... But magical girls are the exception in those kinds of jobs where that happens.
"Mung. You can relax and watch, mung. Blaze is strong, mung. She would've won brilliantly even without that thing, mung."
The mascot jumped in from the side, becoming the sandbag instead. The rotten viewers had already lost interest. And honestly, the mascot wasn't wrong. My protection or not, my junior wouldn't have been in real danger. Transformed magical girls have tough bodies by default, plus their costumes come with barrier effects. I only weakened the firepower—it didn't lower her specs—so even a direct hit would've just had her popping back up feisty as ever.
"Mung... This body gets hate because of overprotection, mung. So unfair, mung."
So yeah, that grievance was justified, but...
"Mungheuk mungheuk."
The cold-hearted viewers seemed totally over it. No surprise—the junior's fight on screen looked even more polished now, naturally drawing eyes. She toyed fluidly with the massive beast, weaving flight and some pro-level footwork, slipping in stronger holy flame blasts amid it all. An elegant hit-and-run fitting a magical girl's image... In fancy terms, "float like a butterfly, sting like a bee"?
"Junior! Still, don't overdo it! Push too hard and even magical girls get aftereffects! Focus on precision over raw power!"
"Yep!"
Her focus was sharpening, so no need for advice beyond that. She probably couldn't hear me anyway.
"Might take a bit, but she'll nail it on the first try. Thought it'd take three or four."
"My pick for partner, mung. Gotta be the best, mung."
No matter how flashy the spectacle, fights get boring if they drag. So the stream naturally shifted into me and the mascot commentary-ing my junior's battle while bantering with viewers—somewhere between play-by-play and chill chat.
"She's entering the zone now, mung."
"Not instinct priority—it's image. Magic completion relies heavily on imagination."
Flying freely in the sky is easier to visualize than swinging flames for attacks. Especially when it's not ordinary fire.
"Still, she's come this far, so the holy flame shouldn't last much longer..."
And here's an uninvited guest. I sighed, sensing powerful mana closing in fast from beyond the ridge. Talk about a nuisance.
Wood-crack-crunch—
Whether I griped or not, the intruder's mana surged wildly. Something shattered and tore, casting a shadow over us.
"Hmph! Right on cue, mung."
A change even viewers and the mascot noticed. I looked up first. The shadow's source: dozens of trees and boulders hovering in the sky.
"Hold the phone for a sec."
I handed my phone to the mascot beside me, freeing my hands. Then, as they rained down like bombs on the monster my junior was fighting, I leaped.
Quick analysis mid-flight: better than expected. Heavy physical mass plus solid mana reinforcement. Simple, textbook, powerful. Underestimate and they'd punch through.
So I scattered ice crystals more seriously than usual.
Craaaack—
"She's focusing for once—don't interrupt."
"...!"
I landed on the frozen, statue-still falling objects, facing the shocked intruder.
40s or 50s, weary middle-aged guy. His mana? Impressively refined, honestly. Enough to overwhelm my junior. And his telekinesis-like ability—simple application, but masterful.
She'd need at least five to match that combat power. Someone like that...
"Looks like national representative level."
"National power level, meow~"
"Ah, right. National power level."
The mascot below confirmed my guess. Yeah, given what I'd seen so far, that title fit. Especially breaking through my perception inhibition to get here, even untransformed—that surprised me. He should've gotten lost en route.
"So you're her coworker. Why interfere?"
"Dunno."
"?"
"That's why I'm asking?"
A gritted growl echoed around us.
"You have no idea what you're doing to that child? That's torture! Binding her limbs, forcing her to fight for her life—that's torture!"
Oh. So last time's guess was spot on? I hadn't ruled it out, but...
His angry tone made it clear: not personal grudge against my junior, just hating kids fighting. But to me, listening...
"That harsh? Don't slander."
I got he was genuinely worried—no rudeness or "why pick a fight" vibes. But right after getting called overprotective? Really?
"Insane...!"
Wood-crunch—
Abandoning the frozen tools, new trees and rocks launched from the ground. Noble not attacking me directly, only the monster, despite treating people like monsters—but gotta respect that.
Still, too noisy and her focus might break.
"Hold up, cool your head."
I dashed into the national power guy's space, tapping an ice crystal to his forehead.
Craaaack—
"Grk!"
Not a pleasant sound. With his groan, the heavy projectiles aimed at the monster lost power. A few strong shots mean nothing without propulsion. Normally, launched stuff keeps inertia even if you nab the source, but...
Telekinesis types dodge inertia, so neutralizing the core ends it.
"Meow, meow~"
Grabbing the subdued national power guy's nape, I returned to cheers from the mascot and viewers.
"Little commotion~ Oh, some guy crashed in to mess with junior's training. He said national power level earlier, so probably him?"
"Mung. Yeah, that's him, mung."
This guy's reaction was off too. Muttering something like 'even more than I imagined...'—probably no big deal.
As I thought that, pop—blood sprayed from beside me.
"Whoa. Force it and it bursts."
"Urk... What did you do to me?"
Of course, an upgraded version of what I'd put on my junior. Hers was sandbag-weighted for training; this was full restraint rack. Technically closer to the original purpose.
"Seal? Close enough. Won't last long. I'm not the sustained-type magical girl."
"Not sugarcoating—it's to stop you!"
Give him a knife and look what he does.
"......"
Tell me about it. Even the uncle—stoic spy protagonist injected with mystery drugs—went resolute to deflated peeking at chat.
Should I snag one viewer to hang as the culprit?
"Sigh. What were you thinking?"
Nah. In a way, this might be better? Seeing him chat with venom drained, I felt the wrecked mood actually helped.
Not like I'd go all-out life-or-death with junior's coworker. Better to de-escalate easy.
"Wah. Baby magical girl here. No specifics, no answer!"
"...Haa."
Trying to soften the mood more, but too braindead?
"Regrettable."
"...You're asking why I put Seong-yoon through that harsh stuff."
His voice subdued beyond venom-drained now. That the question? Yeah, it had been all along.
Third-party viewers with loose junior ties splitting a bit. Earlier all "harsh," but her breezing through opened defense room. Hmm. Whatever he expects, probably won't like the answer.
"Standard in our line of work."
"...Ha."
As expected—not satisfying. He let out an incredulous scoff.
"Same as that beast."
"Mung?"
Oh. Unexpected reaction.