Count Open

A sea of people ringed Hangang Park, packed shoulder to shoulder in every direction. I walked the fenced-off path cut through them, their voices tickling my ears as they chanted my name—Mother.

As I made my way between the crowds, I pressed my earring. The dull thud of sneakers gave way to the sharp click of heels, and only then did I arrive at the broadcast prep room.

The east entrance of Yeouido Hangang Park had already been sealed. The Two-sided Barrier would teleport everyone inside to the outside anyway, but they had locked it down in advance just in case.

"We'll attach the cameras now!"

"..."

I didn't answer. I just stared at them. They took the silence as consent, and the coordinators started hanging miniature waterproof cameras all over me, clustering them around the cord of my insignia.

Cameras don't work inside the Two-sided Barrier. But if you're transformed and wearing something on your body, the Barrier treats it as equipment and lets it function. Not just anything works, of course. Cameras, though, don't seem to be a problem. When you really need footage, you have to strap them to yourself.

The network knew this, so instead of the mounted cameras Yang Jongcheol had talked about, they strung them all over me. Not that it had mattered much ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠until now. Mogumogu-dan's fights had been so boring for so long that there was no reason to broadcast them live, and no audience for it either. Even that had fizzled out until the fights themselves stopped happening. Now that I had shown up and the fights had become actual fights, people were paying attention again.

Nape of my neck. Both wrists. Dead center of my chest. Near my navel. Both knees. Both ankles. Nine cameras in all, dangling off me like ornaments. Only then were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they done.

"We'll do your makeup now!"

"No. Skip that."

Makeup that would wash off the second I got hit with a wall of water. What was the point?

But that didn't matter right now. First things first—Aquamarine. I needed her out of the way.

The fight hadn't started yet. Somewhere in this park, Aquamarine would be getting ready too. I had an overwhelming advantage—I could track her position—but Aquamarine had enough power to flip that disadvantage on its head. Cheap tricks like last time, just chucking Bethel at her, weren't going to work. That much was obvious.

So what was I supposed to do? Well. I did have something in mind.

I was Mother, leader of Mogumogu-dan. My opponent was Aquamarine, Vice President of the Magical Girl Association. The winner would prove they had the power to match their title. The loser would have to face every challenger who came sniffing after it.

Not that my kids would ever challenge me. Aquamarine, though—that was a different story. She would have to endure a constant stream of skeptical looks. Vice President, and that's all she's got? Could someone as proud as Aquamarine handle that?

I didn't think she could.

Either way, this fight meant something.

I could see myself on the massive temporary display boards they had set up. I wasn't the only one who had agreed to be filmed. Aquamarine had too. The boards stood side by side—my face on one, hers on the other. Me: cold, icy, expressionless as always. Aquamarine: beaming, all sunshine and smiles, the complete opposite.

"Don't like it."

I pouted and grumbled. But what was I supposed to do? That was just my face.

A fountain of mana erupted from the center of Hangang Park. I had seen it enough times that it didn't startle me anymore. The fact that I was completely alone out here did send a flicker of unease through me, but I steeled myself.

It's fine. I can win. I can do this.

Mana was already spreading through the empty park like wildfire. Wherever it touched, color drained away and then flooded back in.

There would be no one around now.

"Hoo."

I thrust my left hand high.

A flash of light split the night sky and shot upward. There was no cover out here. Aquamarine would know exactly where I was from the source of that flare.

From a fair distance away, an answering flare shot up, as if in reply. If I ran, it would take about twenty minutes. Aquamarine would cover it in less than ten.

I peeled off thick gobs of mana leaking endlessly from the rivets of my left glove and slathered them all over my body. Even without actively drawing mana for defense, this stuff would give me a little protection until it weathered away.

As I smeared mana over myself, I ran through the plan again in my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head. It wasn't a bluff when I said I had figured out Aquamarine's weakness last fight.

Aquamarine's magic was genuinely powerful. But it was specialized for area attacks. Against a single target, it wasn't that strong. What made it terrifying was the relentless, bombardment-like assault over a wide area. If you had a way to weather that, you would be fine.

Even when I had driven her all the way to the bathroom, she had pulled out area magic. She had a chance to land a real hit on me while I was off-guard, and she still didn't use a single-target spell. From that, I could infer one of two things: either Aquamarine had no single-target attack magic, or whatever she had was pretty weak.

And the other thing—her attribute was water. That itself was a weakness.

Anyway, the fight had started. On the map floating in front of my eyes, Aquamarine was closing in fast on the spot where I had fired the flare. Watching her marker, I drew Bethel.

Hangang Park was overflowing with water. According to Aquamarine, mana-based attacks wouldn't work in a place like this.

"That's what you think."

I kept pouring mana into Bethel.

"What's with the nerve?"

Aquamarine floated in midair, her light-blue sailor uniform fluttering, looking down at me.

"The nerve for what?"

"Picking a place like this as your starting point. Is this a bluff? Or have you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠given up and decided to become my maid?"

"You know this is being broadcast, right? Also, I don't remember ever saying I'd be your maid."

"I know. But I don't care. Winning is all that matters. I'll force a maid uniform on you and work you like a dog, even if I have to do it with raw power."

"Giving up on your image? Or did you never have one to begin with?"

"Of course I have an image."

Aquamarine grinned down at me, smirking. Did she actually know this was going out live?

"Hey. I'm asking again. You know this is being broadcast, right?"

"I already said I know."

Small magic circles bloomed around both of Aquamarine's hands. The circles, which had shimmered gold, shifted to a watery blue and morphed into four-pronged shuriken—the kind you'd get if you scaled a ninja's throwing star way up.

But I hadn't been sitting idle either. I raised Bethel, which I had been pumping full of mana this whole time. If one of those things hit me, it would do some real damage. No choice. Fire.

"That little toy. Using a magic gun of all things, just sit still and—"

BANG!

"Kyaaak!"

Bethel, stuffed to the brim with mana, had a kick far bigger and nastier than any ordinary rifle. That much I could tell. The recoil shoved me back two or three steps.

"I know!"

It was drowned out by Bethel's gunshot, so I didn't hear it clearly, but I heard it all the same. A shatter—the sound of glass breaking. And Aquamarine's scream.

Aquamarine, who had been floating in midair, was gone.

Thud-thud-thud-thud...

I ran, trampling the waterlogged grass. We hadn't been that far apart to begin with. I hadn't been running long before I spotted Aquamarine, who had crashed onto the grass and was pushing herself back up. She saw me charging and thrust out her hand again. Not for a handshake, that was for sure. She was about to cast.

"Not happening!"

I pressed the ring again. Bethel materialized, that heavy, cold weight settling into my grip.

"See, I put a little batting practice in!"

WHACK!

I swung Bethel with everything I had at the wrist she had thrust toward me. It bent at a grotesque angle.

"KYAAAAAAH!"

"Hey, quit the theatrics. There's plenty of moisture here. I know you'll heal right up!"

"You figured it out?"

The pain that had twisted her face smoothed away just as fast. Her broken wrist was already back in place. She grinned at me, and the moonlight made her face glow white, which only made it more unsettling.

"You crazy bitch."

"Oh, introducing yourself? Unfortunately, I don't have time to hear more."

Pop!

Aquamarine vanished, then reappeared a good distance behind me. She didn't look damaged at all, which honestly hurt my feelings a little. She had taken a gunshot and a bat to the wrist. She should at least look like it stung.

"Disappointed I don't look like I'm in any pain?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"Well, you did good anyway. That magic gun of yours is something else. Punching through my barrier even by the water like this."

"Right? My son's pretty great."

Water-blue spikes materialized around Aquamarine with a clattering rush. Yeah. I figured something like this was coming.

I kept my eyes locked on the spikes, watching them steadily. They swelled larger and larger, then came flying at me.

Not every spike was aimed at me, exactly. They were aimed at where I was standing. If I dodged fast, they would all miss. But I wanted to test something.

I managed to snag one of the incoming spikes with my right hand. I had already noticed the mouth-shaped mark that had appeared on my right palm. And if this worked the way I thought—

Good. It worked.

The spike I had caught in my grip disappeared in an instant. A cool sensation flowed through my entire body.

"Hmm. Did I miss? Not that it matters."

Aquamarine smiled sweetly as she looked at me. If she had looked closely, she would have noticed the spike disappearing. But Aquamarine didn't seem to care about that kind of thing. Fine by me. That was going to be her downfall.

"Just because there's distance between us, doesn't mean you should let your guard down."

BANG!

"Your mana and mine are clearly in a superior-subordinate relationship, you know."

BANG!

I walked toward Aquamarine one step at a time, firing Bethel in rapid succession. I wasn't pumping in much mana. The point was the volume of fire—and to make sure Aquamarine stayed focused on Bethel.

And now, everything came down to my acting. How well I could fool Aquamarine—that one thing would decide this fight.