Chapter 3: Possibility? (1)

Looking back on it now, that might well have been a trap.

Any sensible person would think: if you're going to run articles at all, putting out just one a day had to beat publishing them in real time. Snap a photo and upload it the moment it happened, and of course the other side would recognize it.

"...No."

They wouldn't go to all that trouble for the sake of a single combatant. I had earned myself better equipment by racking up achievements, but that was the extent of it—I was no Cadre, and no squad leader either.

"No, what?"

Perhaps because I'd muttered it in the middle of the music, Jihye cocked her head at me. The song drifting from the speakers was by the Beatles. The reason I could only call it "Beatles music" was that, honestly, I didn't know any of the titles; I'd simply loaded a CD Hayun had bought me a while back and pressed play.

Looking at my desk now, there were more CDs Hayun had bought me than ones I'd bought for myself. Which was only natural. Hardly anyone walks into a big bookstore or record shop and buys every disc they browse through. My pattern was to pick out one, maybe two, and play them over and over—the ones I'd looked at and put back far outnumbered the ones I'd ever owned.

...And yet here I was, doing the very thing that amounted to betraying Hayun. No wonder the worry wouldn't leave me alone.

"It's nothing. Really."

When I brushed it off like that, Jihye just kept staring at me.

"What?"

"No matter how I look at you, that's a worried face."

"..."

Did she know that my actions might have put her own future up as collateral? If I helped Hayun—my old friend—then Jihye, my old friend too, would be the one who paid for it. From where Jihye stood, it would be an outrageous injustice. She was a girl who had never even appeared in the webtoon, after all.

Hayun, on the other hand, well—she was the protagonist. Getting knocked around and attacked came with the territory. Not that I'm saying she deserved any of it. Just... that's how it was.

"Is this about what happened last time?"

"No, it's not that."

I was worried, though not for the reason Jihye imagined. It was a worry I couldn't share with anyone.

"You don't have too much to worry about, though, right? I mean, they're saying the guy was an ex-convict, for one. And the company claimed it didn't know anything either."

That was how it played on the news. We engaged him as a reporter for a subsidiary media outlet, but the reporter in question turned out to be a former criminal who wrote one-sided, sympathetic coverage... We humbly apologize to the nation. That was the company's official position. As for us, we were nothing more than civilians swept up in the middle of it.

So there shouldn't be any real trouble coming. Shouldn't be.

"...I suppose not?"

If I didn't answer here, it would do nothing but needlessly worry her—that much was obvious—so I just said it with a faint smile.

"Right, exactly."

Jihye sat up straight and gave a shrug of her shoulders.

"Worried this whole thing might slam doors on your job hunt later? Then why not have a word with Hayun? The Galaxy Federation is gearing up to hire Earth-born staff, you know."

And then she added with a grin:

"Who knows? They might even make you a magical girl."

"...Does that even make sense?"

I laughed, incredulous.

A few days later.

"...Quite the fine equipment you've got there."

The Squad Leader—still impossible to tell which planet he'd come from—struck up conversation with me. There was no envy in his voice. If anything, it sounded like mockery. I didn't bother answering. My mind was troubled enough as it was.

I lowered my gaze and inspected what I was wearing. From helmet to boot tips, everything was brand-new, crisp and complete. The base layer was as skintight as ever, so from the waist down it looked like a clinging miniskirt worn over leather leggings—add boots that climbed to the shins, and honestly, it looked like something a pervert with a very particular fetish had designed.

...In truth it was probably lifted from a tokusatsu villain, and the webtoon had merely borrowed the design, so there was nothing to be done about it. Anyway, below the waist it looked almost exactly like before. The top half did not. Over the old skintight suit I now wore a black leather jacket. I had no idea what the point of it was; I'd been told it "conducts energy better," so I simply assumed it had some function along those lines. Apparently even Noir Corporation wanted its combatants to look a little cooler.

The all-important circuit on my wrist looked sturdier than before, and thicker, with a battery slotted in underneath. The helmet hadn't changed much. Fully dressed, I gave off the air of a biker. Not that they'd hand a bottom-rung combatant like me anything as expensive as a motorcycle.

I didn't have a license, either.

A whistle cut through the air.

I turned to find Jigupa standing with his arms crossed, watching me. He hadn't put his helmet on yet, so his sparkling eyes were on full display—almost uncomfortably so.

"Hey, be honest with me. The company secretly rates you as some hugely important asset, doesn't it?"

"..."

Hard to say. They did seem to see me as a conveniently useful human.

Beep.

The helmet finished booting, and a percentage flickered to life in the corner of my HUD.

Sixty percent.

Hadn't they said the capacity had been increased? If it still started this high even with the expanded capacity, then my mind must truly be in turmoil. A glance at my wrist showed the circuit already whirring away.

"Alright, ready the battle cry!"

Seeing that everyone was more or less ready, the Squad Leader bellowed.

"Hey!"

I shouted back, notably short on enthusiasm.

As always, we were given no precise briefing on what was happening at the place we were infiltrating. But I could tell the spot we'd landed in had a completely different atmosphere from usual.

The places we normally went were the kind of places "contract work" took you: streets lined with aging housing, squares where crowds gathered to protest, lots strewn with shanties thrown together from planks. This place was different. There was a sleek, well-kept building, and around it, similar structures were still under construction—though since it was evening, everyone working there seemed to have clocked out.

"Attention, everyone!"

the Cadre shouted.

This time, the Cadre was not James. Unlike James, whose combat suit resembled a business suit, this one wore something closer to "work clothes"—a one-piece jumpsuit. It wasn't plain workwear, though: sturdy steel plates were bolted to the shoulders, and over his top he wore a vest bristling with buttons and fittings of every kind. His face was hidden behind something like a gas mask, and a heavy helmet sat on his head. A bizarre figure—a work jumpsuit haphazardly dressed up to give off a "boss" vibe. He looked like he'd walked straight out of a post-apocalyptic story.

I recognized this Cadre from the webtoon, too.

"...I see."

I murmured to myself. Judging by the surroundings and the Cadre himself, this operation had to be one I knew. Stepping inside would probably make it certain.

"I trust you have all heard plenty about the atrocious deeds the Galaxy Federation perpetrates on this land!"

The Cadre's voice was slightly muffled behind the gas mask, but there must have been some kind of amplifier built into it, because it came through loud and clear enough for every one of us to hear.

"This is a secret Federation base! All manner of illegal experiments are underway in its basement! Today, we fight in this nation's stead, for its sovereignty!"

"..."

No one cheered at those words. To the aliens, it was someone else's country—they were just working for pay—and the humans weren't much different. In sheer lawlessness the Federation was worse, but when it came to public image, Noir Corporation was in far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worse shape. Even among the people doing the work, that much was understood.

"It's a surprise operation, but they'll be on our heels in no time with Warp Point technology. In that window, we destroy the experimental equipment below! Move!"

The Cadre roared and began to run.

"What are you all doing! Follow!"

Shouts like that rang out from every direction. Apparently more than one squad had been committed today. Sneaking a look at the combatants surging forward, I spotted two or three others dressed like me—which meant that, from the company's perspective, this was a fairly important operation.

"..."

In that case, I would earn every scrap of merit I could here. At the very least, my image couldn't get any worse. With that resolve, I threw myself forward at a dead sprint.

My calculation was simple. Combatants can't beat magical girls anyway. Neither can Cadres. Magical girls are the protagonists, after all.

Besides, this operation was an episode I knew. In the story, some of the lab equipment does get smashed, dealing the company a real blow. In that episode, the company had gone to its own trouble, deploying Anti-Warp Point equipment, which was why the magical girls had been committed a little late. It was from the very early stretch of the run—the episode where the story properly kicks off.

So all I had to do was throw myself into it, rampaging and smashing as much as I could.

"We're going this way!"

Where the corridor split into several branches, the Squad Leader chose the middle path. I knew nothing of the interior layout—webtoons almost never bother with detailed floor plans, and even if one had, I didn't have the memory to retain all of it. I wasn't leading the charge anyway, so I could just follow along and do as I was told.

Following the passage along, we came upon a massive entrance. Thick doors that slid open to either side—a little clichéd, the kind of thing you'd only see in science fiction. At least the design of the doors matched what remained in my memory. But with no signage anywhere, I couldn't tell whether I was heading for the most crucial point, as in the webtoon.

"Hey, Earthling!"

The Squad Leader snapped at me.

"You've got the good gear, so you deal with it!"

Without bothering to protest, I stepped forward.

Seventy percent.

The circuit was running quite steadily. I swept my left arm downward, and a blade sprang from my wrist—a formless black Energy Blade, made of nothing but pure energy. It was longer than my old one, so the new equipment really was better, I thought.

Kzzzt!

The moment I drove the blade into the door, sparks flew as if I were welding. Holding it wedged in the seam where the two doors interlocked, I drew it straight down.

CLUNK!

From inside came the sound of something thick giving way. I jammed both hands into the seam and heaved them apart. Energy channeled through my suit, and the heavy doors began to grind open, little by little.

A few murmurs of admiration rose from behind me. Honestly, I was a little impressed myself—the output was far beyond my old suit's. I could even understand why the Squad Leader had been snide. From a certain angle, I must have looked like a threat to his own position—

Bee-beep...

Oh.

The moment my spirits lifted, the percentage dipped by a few points. But my strength itself didn't wane. The charged battery inside kept steadily supplementing the energy. In the end, I managed to force the doors all the way open.

"Tsk."

I heard the Squad Leader click his tongue.

"Hey, what are you all doing! Inside, everyone!"

At that, the combatants poured through. The Squad Leader stared at me for a few seconds before heading in himself. His visor hid his face, but I'd have wagered he was glaring.

Beep!

The percentage climbed back up and leveled off at seventy.

...Was I supposed to thank it?

Letting out a long sigh, I dashed in after them.

And then—

"Uwah!?"

With a thud, a combatant came flying through and slammed into the wall beside me. What was in there—

"Combat robots!?"

...Well, of course. It wasn't as if the Galaxy Federation shunned robots. The lore said there had been plenty of wars and conflicts before the "Federation" was founded. "Combat robot" was a generous term—it looked nothing like a person, more like a one-armed industrial robot, the kind of machine you'd far sooner see on a car assembly line ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than anywhere like this. A red glove was fixed to the end of its arm, which lent the thing a certain dark comedy. Exactly as I'd seen in the original.

Paying no mind to what anyone around me was doing, I ran straight at it. The blade was still live on my left arm.

Kiii—

The security system registered me and swung its head my way with that ominous whine. Watching its arm draw back, I thrust out my fist.

KRA-KRACK!

The red glove burst the instant it met my blade, and a deep wound opened in the steel behind it. My hand was unharmed. The blade had no physical substance, so absorbing the impact didn't wrench my arm backward in recoil.

"Ooooh!"

one of the combatants shouted. Probably Jigupa.

BAM!

Following through along the arm, I sheared the robot's limb clean off. Then a swift cut through the catapult assembly it used to move reduced the thing to scrap metal, its joints twitching at nothing.

"Let's go!"

I shouted.

"Ooooh!"

the combatants behind me roared together. Had they caught a glimpse of hope? ...Not that hope wouldn't actually drag my combat rating down.

The Squad Leader was watching me. Glaring again, no doubt. Maybe that was why this was harder to stomach. He got to vent his irritation while I had to swallow mine—how unreasonable was that?

Sixty percent.

Not low enough to warrant the battery. I'd need it to force open another door like the last one, but what lay before me now wasn't another sealed door—it was computers of one kind or another. One of the inner rooms had a window, and beyond the glass stood rows of server computers.

The words rang through the all-unit comm wired into my helmet. A better boss than James, at least. Even if, in practice, it might turn out to be nothing but talk.

I sprinted forward and hurled myself upward.

CRASH!

I burst straight through the server room's window.

Zzt!

A security system embedded in the servers fired a laser at my helmet, but I caught it on the blade before it could turn dangerous. Then I sprang up and sliced off the camera-like unit. The laser didn't fire again.

What came next was simple: smash the computers. Whether they were "actually" servers, I couldn't say. Well, the company had never bothered to brief us on details anyway, so I just did what I could. After severing the power distribution panel wired into the floor as well, I climbed back out through the shattered window.

It was utter chaos. Short of swinging an actual hammer, we were a demolition crew in all but name. Smashing computers, flipping desks over.

...The Cadre was nowhere to be seen. Had he gone off with another squad?

Just as I started moving to try somewhere else—

Click. The comm cut out, and in the same instant, every combatant froze mid-motion. Everyone stood rooted in dazed postures, goosebumps practically radiating off them. Faces hidden behind helmets or not, what they were feeling was plain to see.

"What are you idiots doing! Everyone to the laboratory!"

The Squad Leader broke into a run, as if he had to accomplish something—anything—before I made off with all the credit. A beat behind him, the combatants ran. Every last one of them looked like they'd rather be anywhere else, shuffling along a step slower than the Squad Leader.

"..."

Seventy percent.

The number had spiked the instant the words "magical girl" reached my ears. Combat power wouldn't be lacking today, I thought.

BAM!

The Squad Leader, who had charged in first, was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first one knocked out of the fight. Watching it happen, I finally understood why Iris, of all people, insisted on her "Warp Point" technology. The corridor bent in a T, and the moment the person up front caught a massive laser beam from the side, he vanished without a trace. Even knowing he hadn't actually burned to ash—that he'd simply been flung somewhere far away—it was a chilling sight.

"Eeeek...!"

One of the combatants whimpered it and toppled backward. There had been one face I didn't recognize today. Probably him.

Tap. Tap.

The sound of someone approaching. The same oppressive sound that always rang out whenever Iris walked upon the air.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

Eighty-five percent.

Even with brand-new equipment, I couldn't make myself believe we could win.

"...You've certainly made a spectacular mess of things."

Iris's voice rang out. A few more eeps sounded off here and there. Even running footsteps echoed from somewhere. I couldn't imagine what fleeing deeper inside was supposed to accomplish, but then, there's no reasoning with panic.

...Had the Cadre been knocked out of the fight? He probably hadn't been warped away, at least—in this episode, he gets arrested. It was Iris who smashed the Anti-Warp Point equipment. In the webtoon, the first to reach the "most crucial point" had been Iris, the very one who researched Warp Point technology. The rest of the magical girls were probably only now sprinting in from the entrance.

"Hm."

My eyes met Iris's as she rounded the corner.

...Huh?

Iris, meeting my gaze, curled one corner of her lip upward.

"Fancy meeting you here again, Mr. Small Fry."

...What?

"That scar on your helmet."

Before I knew it, my hand had risen to touch my helmet. There were a few scratches, but nothing distinctive? There wasn't a mark big enough to feel through my gauntlet in the first place. And yet... she'd recognized me? Did a laser burn and a scrape ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from flying rubble really look that alike?

"I do believe this is the one who slipped away last time."

But panicking or not, Iris twisted her mouth into a sneer and leveled her glare at me.

"That humiliation from back then. You didn't think I'd forgotten it, did you?"

Oh, wait—

The muzzle of her gun swung toward me.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

Ninety percent.

BAM!

Fssshhh...

Everything around us burst apart. A blinding light washed over everything, and several combatants nearby vanished without so much as a scream.

But I—

"Oh my."

Iris murmured, eyes flying wide.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP...

Eighty-five percent.

Dumbstruck, I looked down at my hand. On the arm I'd swung without thinking, the black blade was still jutting out.

...No way. Had I just split her warp laser?

The stunned silence held for a few seconds. The first to come back to their senses was me.

This time, I was the one charging at Iris.

—Seventy percent. Factoring in the expanded circuit, I could still fight. And the battery had topped back up to full only moments ago.