Magical Girl and the Werewolf 2
One of the defining traits of urban fantasy, a subgenre of Under the Blue Moon, is that ordinary people usually remain unaware of the world’s hidden truths—or its underbelly, if you prefer. And that ‘truth’ either conceals itself or disguises its form, quietly carving out places for itself all across the globe. The company that both I and Go Yu-jin belong to, Black Star, is one of those places.
The full-time and part-time employees working at headquarters are all ordinary humans. Even the security guards protecting the route to the president’s office are just regular people who’ve received some training. What makes the company special is the simple fact that its president is not human.
“Took you long enough. For someone who left right away, you’re pretty late.”
“I hurried as much as I could.”
“Why didn’t you just run instead of taking the car?”
“That’s actually a good idea. I guess the legend of the werewolf is about to join the magical girl on social media.”
“You should be thinking about how to hide your body using that pitch-black fur. Do I really have to explain every little thing? You young people have no flexibility these days. None at all.”
Watching a white man click his tongue after using a word like “flexibility” gave me a strange feeling. No matter how much he was a character built from game settings….
“So what’s this about?”
“That woman. Double Melon.”
The president leaned all the way back in his chair and swung his long legs onto the desk. His ankle came to rest on the nameplate that read Richard Summerhale.
“She seems to be forgetting her actual job lately. I want you to remind her. That’s part of a manager’s role, isn’t it?”
“What exactly are you talking about?”
“Have you been keeping proper watch over what Double Melon is doing?”
“…Well, she fights pretty well.”
Those bouncing breasts, the vibrating hips, and the way her stance spread wide in time with every movement made it impossible not to look away. That was truly all I could say.
“Not that!”
The president’s fist crashed down on the desk.
“The product placement!”
“……”
“That girl is so drunk on her magical-girl persona that the advertising has taken a backseat.”
The president lowered his legs from the nameplate, pulled out his phone, and began tapping at the screen. Soon he turned it toward me. On the display, Double Melon was fighting a group of thugs. The quality and angle suggested a regular civilian had recorded it nearby and uploaded the footage.
Her long, sweeping legs. Fluid, flashy movements straight out of a wuxia film that used the opponent’s own power against them. And the occasional martial arts performed with a magic wand whose tip was shaped like a heart. It was the very picture of a magical girl.
“She’s swapping out the shoes however she pleases and isn’t even wearing the wristwatch device we supplied!”
Everything the president mentioned was a Black Star product. The magical girl Double Melon’s job was to play the role of a magical girl in public and advertise the company’s goods.
The world of Under the Blue Moon might be urban fantasy, but its foundation is the same modern era I once lived in. An age ruled by influencers who sway the public through personal videos and photos rather than celebrities flashing perfect white smiles between movie segments on TV.
It was precisely that kind of era that had inspired the president’s “Magical Girl Project.”
Dressed like a manga protagonist, she would fight evil all over the city, naturally displaying the various products she wore in the process. Because the spectacle was so bizarre, anyone who witnessed the fights would immediately record them on their phones and upload the footage online. In an age where people had grown hostile toward traditional advertising, this was a method that made them seek it out voluntarily.
Thanks to that approach, the campaign escaped the harsh criticism that would have targeted the massive ad fees of a regular TV commercial or questioned its social acceptability.
People watched Double Melon’s videos and dissected every detail to guess her true identity. In doing so, the Black Star items she wore became known to the public.
I wasn’t sure how effective the tactic would be in reality. But in the world of Under the Blue Moon, it worked. Then again, even in real life the clothes a murderer wore could spark a trend, so maybe the setting wasn’t completely absurd.
In any case, this natural style of advertising was the core of the Magical Girl Project built around Double Melon.
“…Being too blatant isn’t good, is it? I’m sure Double Melon is conscious of that.”
I glanced at the comments beneath the video. Several claimed to have been on site and were packed with guesses about what cosmetics or perfume she might be using.
“Plus, if she only used our company’s products, wouldn’t the connection become obvious?”
“It’s fine. They’re still just guesses. As long as you two don’t reveal or get caught revealing her identity, there’s no problem. She’s gained a proper fanbase now; those people will shield her on their own.”
“Understood. I’ll meet her tomorrow and bring it up.”
“Persuade her properly. That girl has been strangely prickly lately.”
She really had become quite ill-tempered recently. The president claimed he had no idea why, but I could make a pretty good guess.
Fans meant antis. No antis meant no popularity. The videos of Double Melon attracted as many malicious comments as praise—sometimes more. People hurled insults at her greatest weapon, those enormous breasts. Others mocked her for not acting her age. Some even made baseless claims that they had seen someone who looked just like her working at a brothel.
Since she couldn’t delete the comments, it wasn’t hard to understand the stress or the personality shift that followed.
“Maybe she’s just tired. Wouldn’t it be good to give her some vacation time? I think summer break is coming up soon.”
“Summer break? Then she needs to work even harder.”
“A student’s duty is studying, isn’t it?”
“A magical girl’s duty is to fight evil. And evil doesn’t wait around.”
The thugs Double Melon fought weren’t genuine villains disrupting social order. They were illegal immigrant workers hired specifically for the project. In exchange for cooperating, keeping quiet, and taking the beatings without complaint, they received sums that would be nearly impossible to save after years of normal work in this country.
Those who tried to blackmail the sponsors using the secret as leverage ended up as fresh organ donors shipped off to China. If you asked which side was truly evil, the ironic answer was the magical girl’s backers.
“So stop overthinking it and just handle this. If that girl stops working, you lose your job too.”
The president drew a thumb across his throat in warning. I raised both hands and nodded frantically.
“Ah, yes, yes. I understand perfectly.”
“…Here.”
The president rummaged in a drawer, pulled out a thick paper envelope, and tossed it to me. Inside were stacks of fifty-thousand-won bills—enough to form an entire squad of them.
“What’s this for?”
“Buy her a meal while you talk. Get her a present if you need to. Keep the rest. Treat yourself to some snacks.”
It was far too much for snack money. Clearly a bonus.
“Thank you, sir.”
I bowed ninety degrees at the waist.
“Enough of that. Anyway, talk to her properly. You two are close in age, so the conversation should go smoothly.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll be going now.”
“Good.”
I turned the moment the president lowered his legs from the nameplate. I had no desire to catch a glimpse of the hideous thing that would otherwise be visible. I left the office without looking back.
“Manager, huh.”
Why was I—the one who had possessed a werewolf in the urban-fantasy game Under the Blue Moon—working as a magical girl’s manager?
The answer was simple. I had accepted this as reality.
I knew the game’s background and the settings of the other races I had played before. But this was my first time as a werewolf, and I had no idea how the story was supposed to unfold. Since I didn’t know what crises lay ahead or what experiences awaited me, the first thing I pursued was safety.
And what did safety require? I believed it was money and an organization.
Every race and job class in Under the Blue Moon had a group that symbolized it. Magicians had their guild. Vampires had their blood clans. Doppelgangers belonged to a religious cult, and werewolves were based on a tribe.
I should have had one too, yet—perhaps because of how the game’s story progressed—I had been dropped into the city without even learning what my tribe was. If I had simply been playing the game, I would have taken an interest and tried to uncover it. But in my current situation I couldn’t afford that luxury, so I chose to join some organization in place of a tribe.
The place I picked was Black Star, a multinational—or more accurately, multiracial—corporation run by a vampire president. Noticing a werewolf’s superior combat ability, the president had assigned me to serve as Double Melon’s manager and bodyguard.
Whether this matched the original story, I had no idea. But did that matter right now? Surviving came first.
A full year had passed since I possessed this game character. I was still struggling every day just to stay alive. So I had to do my job if I wanted to avoid getting fired.
It was already too late to call. I would just send a simple text suggesting we talk briefly tomorrow.
Morning arrived, and the usual commuting and school hours had long since passed. I seemed to remember her first lecture was at nine. As far as I knew, universities didn’t confiscate phones the moment class started. So why was there still no reply? The number next to the message had disappeared, yet she hadn’t answered.
No helping it. I would have to go find her in person.