Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Toon is Sad
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* * *
With a sharp sound, the walkway cratered inward, and the lizardman let out a ragged breath.
“Do you now understand how terrifying the power of enchantment can be?”
As soon as he sensed the magic on the body cam dissipating, Sernal spoke in a soft, coaxing tone.
The lizardman shuddered at the stark contrast between the scene unfolding before his eyes and Sernal’s voice.
He soon pointed a finger at Sernal. It trembled visibly.
“Y-You... I’m filing a complaint! Against your kind... a c-complaint...”
“This is Sernal from the Special Division for Subspecies Complaint Consultation and Resolution.”
Sernal’s voice, as he repaired the shattered walkway, turned icy compared to moments before.
“I’m not sure how you plan to file that complaint, but you’re the one who interfered during official duty. It seems the enchantment’s power is too overwhelming for you to grasp the situation. That’s a problem.”
Sernal glanced at the restored walkway, brushed the dust off his pants, and spoke nonchalantly.
Even that small gesture made the lizardman flinch instinctively.
“You think I can’t file it? Don’t beg and grovel later—bow your head now and admit you’re wrong...”
“Feel free to file your complaint at your leisure. I’ll be reporting you to the police for obstructing official duty. Oh, and since you swung your fist on the street, that’s assault too. Plus, I’ll inform them about the Inter-Species Violence Prevention Act, which prohibits using species-specific powers outside of self-defense.”
Go ahead and file it.
Time to show him what an iron rice bowl really means.
A natural smile crept onto Sernal’s face.
“D-Don’t mock me! Bullying an innocent citizen and threatening me? Fine! Bring it on!”
“Yes, sir. If you can walk, please follow me. If the enchantment is too strong, it can disrupt your mana flow and lead to death. From what I see, you’re in an excessive state. You need treatment immediately.”
As Sernal reached out to release the binding spell on the lizardman, the creature bared its teeth.
Sernal let out a short sigh.
“I’m trying to free you. And since I’m still on duty, I’d appreciate your cooperation.”
“Shut your trap! I’ve got your number now. I’ll call the cops too.”
“Ah, I’ll make the report. I could use the police’s help anyway.”
Sernal pulled out his cellphone and casually dialed 112.
“Hello? Yes, this is Sernal from Complaints. Head to Mestus Hospital now.”
After hanging up, Sernal showed the phone screen.
112.
The numbers were clearly displayed.
“I’ve made the report. Now you can follow me without worry.”
“...What?”
The lizardman gaped in disbelief and glared at Sernal.
Undeterred, Sernal reached out again, prompting the lizardman to bare its teeth once more.
“Don’t want to?”
“Would you?”
“No choice. Come along for now.”
“On what authority?”
“Because I’m from Complaints.”
Sernal lowered his gaze.
A sharp glint slowly emerged from beyond his languid eyes.
“The Special Division for Subspecies Complaint Consultation and Resolution, commonly known as such, holds investigative authority, and citizens are obligated to cooperate. It’s right there in the law. If you have a problem with that, take it up with a politician.”
The cold stare pierced the lizardman like a blade, making him flinch again.
“You know freedom comes with responsibility, right? They teach that in school.”
Rummaging in his bag, Sernal pulled out a spray can.
“Just in case you’re wondering, you have no intention of answering my questions, do you?”
“Shut up! Just talking to scum like you makes me sick.”
Since hatred filled him from the start, conversation was out of the question—Sernal abandoned the faint hope he’d harbored. He’d at least thought basic reason might work since the guy was conscious.
No helping it.
Sernal shook the spray briefly.
“This spray contains an ingredient that neutralizes the power of enchantment. It doesn’t react to any allergies and is harmless to the body, so no need to worry.”
Suddenly, the lizardman laughed.
Sernal smiled in return. As if he didn’t know what was coming.
A glance downward revealed strange runes on the lizardman’s tail, like those used in magic circles.
‣Tail possesses power to destroy magic (amplifies innate magic resistance to extremes, shattering spells. In recoil, however, the tail suffers massive damage or severs entirely.)
“That’ll just sever your tail if it fails.”
With those words, Sernal sprayed.
Sizzle!
Ignoring the lizardman’s agony from the spray, Sernal continued as the runes vanished from the tail.
“Even with your regeneration, losing your tail throws off your balance, or so I’ve heard. It doesn’t grow back instantly—it takes ages. Might as well give up.”
“Shu...”
Sizzle.
Sernal sprayed more at the still-agitated lizardman.
Research on lizardman tails was extensive and ongoing.
Severed tails lost the power entirely and only worked when attached to the body.
The leading theory was that, like lizards dropping tails to escape, theirs regenerated fastest, making it their last resort.
Sernal looked up. His eyes met the slime sneaking away.
“You there, slime. Don’t sneak off—come along. Despite warnings, you haven’t changed form, violating the Form Maintenance Act.”
“...Nooo. I’m innooocenttt.”
The slime froze, stretching out like grilled mochi.
This was his home.
* * *
During peak hours when people swarmed the place, nurses and staff distracted by patients—someone approached, stuck something on the air purifier, and walked off.
The CCTV captured him lingering nearby, checking the time on his phone, then suddenly retrieving the item from the purifier and exiting.
As he walked, a nurse called out; he startled, turning his head—right into full view of the camera.
Zooming in revealed his face clearly, and Sernal whistled in admiration.
“Wow, modern CCTV is so crisp. And you take to the screen so well?”
Sernal turned from the laptop screen to the lizardman.
Police he’d summoned had arrived, cuffing him in an empty hospital room, so all he could do was glare and squirm.
*Shaking suspects is my specialty.*
This scenario felt all too familiar. He’d dealt with various species long before joining Complaints.
A little. No, a lot different, though.
“This is that power of love, right?”
Sernal winked, and sure enough, the lizardman roared in fury, mouth gaping wide.
“If you hadn’t messed with Maeve, I wouldn’t be like this! I have to protect Maeve! Me! I have to prooo tect her...!”
Even as he screamed with venom, Sernal felt no impact.
He’d expected as much.
Those ensnared by enchantment all deluded themselves it was true love.
Everyone intervening became pure-love saboteurs—or outright enemies.
Easier to think of it as drunken ramblings.
The lizardman shot a venomous look at Sernal’s impassive face.
*That filthy bastard.*
The one who’d ruined everything for him.
No—blocked his despair and love alike. A blight that needed erasing from the world.
Soon, the lizardman’s lip curled smugly.
Confident, but with a clear weakness.
“That guy used magic! A civil servant using magic!”
The lizardman ranted, then pointed at Sernal’s earring.
The earring linking lobe and helix glowed red.
“Red earrings are for mages only, right? Magic’s exclusive to mages, but a civil servant used it! That’s illegal! What are you waiting for? Arrest him!”
“See? This is why enchantment is dangerous. Officer without a mask—still not wearing one?”
Suppressing the urge to click his tongue, Sernal scolded the police, who sheepishly donned their masks.
“This is biased investigation, isn’t it?”
The lizardman glared at the silent officers.
*Earrings are just accessories, and he doesn’t even know that.*
Sernal stifled a quiet laugh.
Mages’ earrings were mere ornaments too.
To actually cast spells required a Mage Association license or a state-issued combat certification for civil servants.
His own combat cert had “(Magic)” in parentheses.
*Unlike standard combat certs, it’s mostly ceremonial, right?*
Even with certs, the state eyed magic warily, mandating red earrings for all users by law. That was it.
Sernal lazily swung his ID on its lanyard.
“Seems like a misunderstanding. The only jobs the state permits magic for are mages and civil servants. What’s wrong with that?”
“A mage doing civil servant work? Ridiculous! Who’d ditch Mage Association privileges for that?”
The lizardman scoffed, but Sernal remained unfazed.
“I’m that idiot, and you got caught by one. No idea what to call that.”
Sernal stood.
“Then I’ll leave him to you.”
How much of this crap did he have to endure?
He half-admitted himself that quitting the Mage Association for civil service was insane.
*Done now. Finally.*
He’d neutralized the escaped enchantment outside and caught the perp.
Sernal felt languid relief wash over him.
Quitting time at last.
This was his job’s end; interrogating the lizardman’s motives was police work.
Fatigue crashed in, his eyes growing heavy.
“Oh, and please let me know why he did this.”
Sernal hammered it home lest they forget.
Info exchange was key to collaboration anyway.
He bowed briefly in farewell, heading out, but the dejected slime lingered in his mind.
“That slime didn’t maintain form but helped resolve the incident. Please go easy on him.”
Sernal nodded slightly to the police.
*This should get him just a warning.*
All done—he turned the knob, eyes widening as the door opened.
Maeve stood there.
“I told you there was no need to come.”
Sernal swallowed his exhaustion. No one was more drained than her.
“No need, but you said I could come.”
Maeve looked up, nibbling her lower lip.
Had she glimpsed the lizardman raging through the door crack?
“True. But it’s an ugly sight. Better not to see it.”
Enchantment was vicious.
Treatment worked, but nine in ten lost memories of being dominated—creating new victims.
As a succubus, Maeve knew this best.
Some stranger, thinking he protected her, trashed the hospital.
Unaware she’d unleashed the enchantment, she’d hoped for quick resolution.
The shock she’d face...
“But I... caused this, and he’s a victim drawn by my power...”
“Go home, Ms. Maeve. Shake off this shitty day and come back to work tomorrow.”
Sernal smiled gently; Maeve forced one back.
“I’m on night shift tonight.”
“Ah... right.”
Sympathy softened Sernal’s weary expression.
Night shift, of all things.
Maeve genuinely smiled at that look.
“Come with me for a bit, Mr. Sernal.”
“Why?”
Anxiety flickered in Sernal’s eyes; Maeve’s wings fluttered briefly.
“The case is closed, so as your doctor, I’m asking you to follow me.”
“I’m not a patient.”
“You were exposed to enchantment.”
“I’m a mage, so I blocked it with magic...”
“Is it because I spread it that you feel awkward? Thanks to your spray, I’m fine now—still awkward?”
“...No. Absolutely not.”
Sernal shook his head vigorously.
“Then follow me.”
Maeve smiled radiantly and turned.
* * *
“...You have gastritis. Take your meds diligently—no alcohol for a while. No spicy food either.”
Maeve stated firmly.
“...Pardon?”
Sernal’s eyes rounded; his post-quit drink dreams crumbled.
“You must be under a lot of stress usually. Keep this up, and it’ll turn chronic.”
“......”
Even as Maeve spoke, Sernal stared in shock.
“Mr. Sernal, doctors don’t disclose patient info. Do you usually get a lot of stress?”
“......Yes.”
Sernal averted his gaze slightly.
Stress? More than he could count.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
His glance returned to Maeve.
“For not saying it’s my fault... I half-expected it this time too.”
Maeve looked down, fingers fidgeting.
“No need to carry trash like that in your heart. Trash doesn’t even know it’s trash.”
“...Trash?”
Sernal chuckled at her question.
“Real love wouldn’t pull that crap.”
He stood after answering.
“Come back the day after tomorrow.”
Sernal loaded his voice with injustice at Maeve’s follow-up.
“...Why?”
“It won’t clear up overnight. Pharmacy’s left of the first-floor desk. Take them properly.”
“So no booze till then?”
“Yes. No alcohol. It shows.”
Maeve’s round eyes narrowed sharply.
“Keep the bracelet on till then. I’ll check when I see you.”
As he turned to leave, Sernal sighed lightly and looked back at Maeve.
Not sure if it was his first time, but he figured he should say it.
“...Police will come for a statement soon—just tell them what happened, and they won’t bother you anymore. No need to worry; live your daily life as usual.”
Daily life.
Familiar, assumed forever—today it felt distant for the first time.
Hearing it post-resolution, Maeve found it beautiful.
“Thank you, Mr. Sernal. I’m fine, but that slime outside’s still waiting?”
“......?”
Sernal blinked.
Slime?
“See you... next time.”
Fatigue surged; Sernal wanted to close his eyes forever.
But he turned the knob.
Opening the door revealed a child-sized slime standing there.
“Hellloooo.”