I Was the One Fooled by Appearances
It seems I was the one fooled by the outward appearance. Who would’ve thought this academy was crazy enough to start hurling magic at the students right in the middle of the entrance ceremony? Just who is the lunatic that planned an event like this?
Shwoooosh. The spell drops straight down toward the top of my head. It’s Magic Missile, a basic ejection-type spell. It flies according to the fixed vector value set at the start, with no changes whatsoever. So that’s what they meant by “line up perfectly straight with no gaps the moment you enter the auditorium.”
Everyone looked flustered by the sudden, so-called “fun event.” Each of them seemed thrown into confusion by the magic flying straight at them.
“Still, there are a few who are staying calm.”
My newly made friend and several others already familiar with situations like this. With this kind of ratio… it’s actually pretty decent.
“What do I do?!”
But the fact is, the majority can’t pull themselves together. I gave a quick piece of advice to the girl numbered 41 standing in front of me.
“Don’t drop your terminal.”
“Huh?”
The moment the words left my mouth, a kwaaaang rang throughout the entire auditorium. The sound a Magic Missile makes when it strikes its target. I simply stood still. The magic flying toward me hadn’t vanished. It hadn’t misfired, either. The Magic Missile had definitely been aimed at my head and hit something.
“Yaaawn… No matter how you look at it, is it really okay for adults to mess with kids like this?”
As the dust settled and I looked around the auditorium, everyone was perfectly fine. Of course they were. The terminals had Shield magic enchanted on them. Before the Magic Missile could smash into anyone’s head, the terminal would have automatically activated the spell. Even if someone had fumbled their terminal and it failed to trigger, it wouldn’t have hurt. The power wasn’t set that high; at most it would feel like getting a slightly hard flick to the forehead.
“Haha. Maybe the prank on the new students was a little too harsh? Still, dreaming of becoming a magical girl means exactly this. Never letting go of the tension that a monster could appear at any moment. That is the very first and most important mindset a magical girl must have.”
The intention is good, but isn’t this going a bit too far? These kids are only seventeen, for crying out loud.
“How was it? Wasn’t it fun?”
“Fun? Yeah, right… I’m sleepy. Can I just go to sleep?”
At some point the teacher had moved behind me. The way she kept sticking close and showing interest in me made it clear—this was definitely my homeroom teacher.
“Surprisingly calm. We haven’t had many of this type before.”
“Teacher… I said I want to sleep.”
“Just wait a little longer. The fun part isn’t over yet.”
What else is there? I didn’t say it out loud, but I gave her a look of pure disgust.
“That was just the appetizer. The main dish is starting now.”
After saying that, the teacher shouted toward the line I stood in.
“The entrance ceremony ends here. Students numbered 22 to 42, line up and follow me.”
As I followed the teacher, I took in the academy’s interior. It couldn’t have been built more than ten years ago, yet everything looked brand new. Do they repaint it regularly or something?
After walking for about ten minutes, we arrived at a space labeled Second Indoor Training Hall. There, the teacher introduced herself.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Cha Seoyeon, your homeroom instructor for the next year. Call me instructor or teacher—whatever you prefer.”
Whoa. Clap clap clap.
“From now on we’ll be doing something even more interesting than what happened earlier. Namely… we’ll be measuring your levels.”
The teacher walked toward a white sphere positioned in one corner of the training hall. Obviously it was a mana and magic-power measurer.
“You should all have done this at your basic mandatory education centers. Place your hand on the sphere and it will automatically measure the amount of mana in your body and your maximum magic power. Starting with number 22, come forward in order.”
“Yes.”
Just as I expected. The students took turns stepping up and placing their hands on the sphere. Those waiting trembled with a mix of nerves and curiosity, while the ones who had finished compared their numbers with each other.
“Yaaawn. You said it would be fun, but this isn’t fun at all. Maybe I’ll just take a quick nap.”
Since I’m not a kid, number games like this hold zero interest for me. I pulled out the sleep mask I’d stuffed in my pocket, put it on, and leaned against the wall. The wall and floor were made of surprisingly high-quality material. Not a bad place to entrust my body to sleep.
“Final student, number 42, come forward. Is number 42 absent?”
“Jihye. It’s your turn now.”
“Eh?!”
What? When did my turn come? The moment I took off the sleep mask, every student—including the teacher—was staring at me.
“Uh… smack. Sorry. I didn’t sleep much last night, so I dozed off.”
“…If you’re sorry, get out here quickly.”
I rose slowly and shuffled over to the sphere. As I lifted my hand to place it on top, a familiar face among the watching students quietly cheered, “Fighting!”
Come on… fighting for what? This is nothing special.
The instant my hand touched the sphere, a tingling sensation spread through my entire body. Tingle, tingle. Unlike the other students, who had finished in under three minutes, the sphere didn’t announce the end of measurement.
Hmm. So this is the precision level of this device.
“Uh… why isn’t it ending?”
The moment one student voiced the question, the sphere stopped working. The announced result was exactly what I had expected.
Internal Mana Reserve: 0
Maximum Magic Power: Unable to Measure
This is the first time I’ve seen a student like you.
“…Really? Heh.”
The teacher’s previously relaxed face had crumpled slightly, so I awkwardly scratched the back of my head. Even I have to admit it’s pretty strange. How can a magical girl have literally zero mana in her body?
“Of course, while this sphere isn’t as precise as medical equipment… it’s still far superior to the commercial devices on the market. …At this rate you won’t even be able to manage a basic transformation.”
“I can transform, so there’s no need to worry. Yaaawn.”
My laid-back attitude finally seemed to leave the teacher speechless. After letting out several dry laughs, she spoke.
“Anyway, that was the absolute measurement of your level. Some of you may be disappointed that it’s lower than expected, others happy that it’s higher. But measurement isn’t determined solely by absolute numbers. Do you understand what I mean?”
It was obvious. Next they’d make the students fight each other.
“To know your relative level, you must compete against others. With everything you have. Your sparring opponents will be chosen at random. Also, it may be reflected in your grades… so give it your all.”
When she finished speaking, the teacher looked straight at me and grinned. So this was the main dish she’d mentioned.
But what now? I don’t like this main dish at all, Chef. What could a grown adult possibly gain from fighting kids? It’s not like I’m some power-level bully or a hidden expert hiding my strength.
“Sigh… I just want to sleep.”
While my motivation had dropped close to zero, the students were incredibly excited. Ah… so this is why youth is wonderful.
“All right, follow me. We’re moving to the sparring arena.”
Moving again? Can’t we catch a break?
Third Indoor Sparring Arena.
The teacher had said we were moving, but it was inside the same building as the Second Indoor Training Hall.
“It’s close, that’s nice. The atmosphere feels good too.”
The area was about twice the size of a boxing ring, with chairs arranged all around it. Is this a sparring arena or a spectator arena for watching spars?
“Now then, numbers 26 and 33, step forward.”
The teacher repeatedly explained the sparring rules, points to watch out for, and how to wear the protective artifacts. Of course I was sleepy, so it went in one ear and out the other.
“Have you both put on your protective artifacts correctly? Then begin the spar.”
As soon as the match started, the two quickly began chanting. The moment their incantations finished, two lights burst forth and the students’ bodies transformed. Their clothes and hair colors changed, and weapons materialized in their hands.
There are generally two ways magical girls conduct spars: transforming before the match begins, or including the transformation time within the match itself. The latter is usually called practical sparring. After all, real monsters don’t politely wait for a magical girl to finish transforming like they do in cartoons.
It seemed the teacher considered the students’ transformation time important as well.
After an unbearably long wait, the students finally completed their transformations. They immediately began attacking each other with the unique magic weapons held in their hands.
“As expected, they’re just kids.”
They might think they’re giving it their all, but from my perspective it looked like children playing fight with toys. Whether on Earth or anywhere else, the level of academy freshmen is pretty much the same everywhere.
Deciding there was nothing more worth watching, I put on the sleep mask I’d left hanging around my neck earlier.
“Number 42. …Are you sleeping again?”
“Huk… Deja vu?!”
“It’s not deja vu, so take off the sleep mask already.”
For a second I really thought it was. My turn in the sparring already? I was sure it would take much longer.
I removed the mask and stepped forward. When I reached the teacher… Huh. There was no opponent.
“Teacher. There’s no sparring partner.”
“Obviously. Do you know how many students are in this class?”
“Twenty-one… Ah, odd number, so one person is left over.”
Wait a minute… Huh? If that’s the case… this is bad.
A sudden, ominous thought flashed through my mind. No way. Surely not. There’s no chance I’m the leftover one, right?
Creak. I turned my stiff neck toward the teacher as if it were rusted. She was wearing the same bewitching smile she had shown earlier.
“That’s correct, student number 42. Your opponent is me.”
Fuck.