Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: I Don't Really Know Since It's My First Time
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8:00 PM.
Seowon University, Fashion Design Department TA office.
Tap, tap-tap-tap.
Ha-neul sat alone in the TA office, staring straight into the blue light of her monitor.
Thick horn-rimmed glasses couldn't hide the dark circles that had settled in deep—no sign of them fading anytime soon.
But that was fine.
They'd disappear after she transformed.
Lee Ha-neul: third-year in Seowon University's Fashion Design program and TA for the department.
In truth, her real identity was the mighty magical girl Bella!
Of course, that wasn't what mattered right now.
"...Fuck."
What mattered was that Ha-neul had been screwed over by that damn professor.
When he'd first offered her the TA gig, he'd sworn it wouldn't be much work.
She'd already been struggling to keep up with attendance just handling the slack from her senior bitches, so she'd jumped at the chance.
But no work? Bullshit.
At some point, the professor started dumping jobs on her just like the seniors.
Her daily workload doubled.
The cigarettes she smoked tripled.
Just three years ago, she'd dreamed of campus life.
How the hell had everything gone so sideways?
Truth be told, she knew better than anyone.
Her life had been mortgaged the moment she'd stamped that magical girl contract five years back.
When she'd first stepped into the magical girl biz, she'd harbored illusions too.
Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her admired senior magical girls, slaying beasts, then sharing words of wisdom after missions.
Bonding over tea, hearts full of justice and love, chatting away—that kind of dream life.
But reality? Seniority ruled like a tyrant, rank was law in a brutal hierarchy.
Five years in, she was still enduring the endless grind of being the perpetual rookie in this fucked-up system.
And the slacking came in every flavor imaginable.
'Bella, there's a monster in Mapo?'
'...Senior, that's your turf.'
'Oh? Should I go then? Who was my junior again?'
'Bella, gotta submit a report to Magic Castle. Cover for sis, 'kay?'
'Huh? I don't have admin access yet...'
'Figure it out. No flexibility at all.'
'Bella. Buy me some pads.'
'...'
'Bella. Grab a Melona on your way.'
These were the apostles of justice?
To Ha-neul, the seniors were more monstrous than any fiend.
This morning's callout hadn't even been hers. Ignis slept in, so she'd filled in.
Made her late for work, chewed out by the prof, and now stuck processing backlog admin till this hour.
"Bella. Overtime again...?"
A clueless voice piped up from thin air.
Her mascot—and total pig—Popoco.
Back in the day, he'd been her best friend and partner, or so she vaguely recalled.
Lately, though, his blubbery gut just pissed her off every time.
Come to think of it, wasn't she rolling in this mess all because of this pig?
"I-I could cast a fatigue-recovery spell..."
"Shut it before I pluck you bald."
"Eek...!"
Ha-neul lit her cigarette with a satisfying flick.
Indoor smoking? Not her problem.
Professor dumping work, seniors slacking—surely one cig was fine?
"Haa. I hope they all drop dead."
She prayed to whatever god might listen.
Please, just give me one newbie under me.
That's when it happened.
Ding!
Another bitch trying to slack? She checked her screen halfheartedly.
"...Has she finally lost it?"
Prima had once been Ha-neul's idol, the pinnacle of magical girls.
Now? Just an elegant slacker grandma.
'Hehe. Bella, don't hate your seniors too much. Back in our day...'
Advice after five years meant zilch when she was still the baby at the bottom.
"Everyone knows Magic Castle ain't sending newbies anymore."
"?"
Am I seeing things?
She rubbed her crusty eyes and checked again.
No matter how many times—twice, thrice—
Ramu's photo showed chubby baby cheeks, tiny shoulders barely a handful wide.
Undeniably around eight years old. A total stranger to boot.
'A magical girl's transformed form locks to her physical age at contract.'
Ha-neul had signed at sixteen, so Bella stayed forever sixteen.
But this kid? Early elementary at best.
Meaning—a real-deal newbie after five years. A squishy little thing stepping into magical girl land.
And her direct subordinate to dump work on!
"Holy shit."
Instinct kicked in.
She had to snag that newbie fast—faster than anyone.
Not that she'd dump on her blindly.
She wasn't Satan. Had a conscience. No plans to become like those senior bitches.
But once the kid grew to Bella's size?
She could offload Ignis's coffee runs, Terra's pad shuttles—everything!
Freedom at last!
Tap. Tap-tap-tap!
Her fingers danced across the keys.
But Ha-neul overlooked one thing.
She wasn't the only one starving for a newbie.
Sure, over 300 magical girls lurked in the Sanctuary of Love and Justice.
But the chat had been dead for ages.
Same faces, same scripts.
What was left to say?
Participation in the 312-member group? Pathetic—maybe a dozen at most.
So when a ripe, juicy newbie dropped in, the zombies stirred from their coffins.
Ha-neul's eyes narrowed at the screen.
These hyena bitches.
Bitches who'd ghosted reads till now, drooling and swarming the second newbie showed.
Pluto especially—Ha-neul's direct senior.
If newbie fell to her? Doom predictable.
No way in hell.
Ha-neul had to rescue her from the senior wolves. She fired off a DM without hesitation.
Screw seniors and bullshit.
First to stake a claim wins.
But another fact Ha-neul missed.
Right then, droves of starving magical girls were DM-bombing Neph—Seol Ha-yoon.
And so, the typhoon after five years swept the magical girl world.
The battle for Neph had begun.
"S-Spare me! Let go, I said!"
"Why'd you do it then? Should've listened when I asked nicely."
I was yanking the beastie's ears and legs, stretching it side to side like taffy.
The white fluff ball elongated like cheese.
Slam it down, and I bet the fur would rip right out.
Except fur was flying everywhere.
That was a bit much.
"C-Calm down! I'm your exclusive mascot now! Mistreat me, and you lose out!"
"Lose what."
I'd gained a punching bag.
"You brute! A magical girl's mana comes from her mascot partner! No me, no reverting to your old body—good luck with that!"
The beastie was holding its own life hostage.
Couldn't deny the logic, so I released the stretched fluff.
"Hoo... Barbaric oaf."
"Whatever. What's next?"
"Work piles high. First, register as new magical girl at Magic Castle. Get mana wavelength cert from the Association. Backside World pass too. Business registration for taxes is extra."
"Why so complicated?"
"Admin's always the worst. But fret not—this capable Ramu will handle the paperwork."
Oh, that I liked.
"Your job? One thing. Magical girl duty—and right!"
"What's that?"
"Transform."
"?"
I blankly looked down at my body.
Tilted my head.
"Aren't I already transformed?"
"Nope?"
"?"
The beastie tsked pityingly.
"Hear what I said? You're just in a girl's body via Prima's mana."
"Different how?"
"True magical girl rebirth needs an extra transformation layer!"
"Like that, huh."
Not like I'd know—I'd never been one before.
So this was civilian (girl) mode. Powers required separate transform.
"How?"
"Yearn strongly in your heart for your ideal self-image, chant the call!"
I never wanted to be a magical girl—what image?
Sighed, glanced down at my chest.
...This'll do.
Image set.
"What chant?"
"Repeat after me! Starlight..."
Chant? Embarrassing as hell.
"Transformation."
This'll do too.
The instant I shouted Transformation!
Fwaaah!
White light exploded from me.
Vision cleared. I clenched, unclenched my fist.
No outward change, but inside? Totally different feel.
"This inner power?"
"Mana."
Mana, huh.
Body light as a feather, yet one punch could squash the beastie like clay into dough. Omnipotence welled up.
So, now what?
"Good job. That's it for now."
"Huh."
Magical girls meant magic, right?
I didn't even know how to use spells.
Wasn't the mascot supposed to teach?
"You're unregistered still. Post-paperwork, official code issued—then full training from me."
"How long?"
"All done? About... a month?"
"?"
What till then?
I glared skeptically; beastie sweated, stammered.
"U-Until then... maybe ask a senior magical girl? You became one 'cause Prima accidentally invited you to the group chat—use it!"
"Fine, whatever."
Wait. Did I hear that right?
Slowly turned to where the beastie had been.
Gone. Bolted mid-sentence.
"..."
Accidentally?
Next time, rip it apart.
Still, followed the advice.
Best ask seniors politely if clueless.
"That should do it."
Message sent, time to gauge reactions—but eyelids suddenly drooped heavy.
'Not even 10 PM?'
Normally she'd sew till 4 AM no problem.
Body kid-sized now? Or mental fatigue from back-to-back bullshit?
Whatever. Eyes closing.
"Yawn."
Overwhelming drowsiness hit; I collapsed onto the bed.
Pulled covers to my chin—cozy warmth enveloped me.
"Mm."
Another con: this damn long hair itched like hell. Chop it tomorrow.
"Oh."
Pro: bed felt bigger.
With fuzzy thoughts, I drifted off.
Oblivious to my phone screen, red notification count skyrocketing.