Pure Summer: Candy Riches and Destructive Desperation

The investigation with Bloody Mary was nearly wrapped up.

"Bloody Mary, just a few final checks before approval. The property damage from this area attack exceeded three times the district average. There could be post-incident cost claims or penalties in your rank review, so next time, maybe dial back the skill's output by about 15%..."

I was conveying the necessary points as politely as possible, careful not to ruffle her feathers. But her patience—staff slung over her shoulder, tapping the ground irritably—seemed shorter than I'd anticipated.

"Ah, fuck, you're chattering on like a damn bird."

That was when it happened. Something hard and wet suddenly jammed against my lips.

"Mmph?!"

Before I could even finish, a sweet lump was shoved into my mouth. I reflexively bit down, eyes widening in shock. Intense strawberry flavor. And kinda slobbery, but not in a bad way.

"I've heard that shit a million times already. Just eat this Magical☆Candy."

She grinned and lightly tapped my chin.

"Hey, that was in my mouth? This is some next-level reward, huh?"

"...!"

Ah, so that's why it was wet.

"Don't spit it out? You'll get in trouble?"

I had no choice but to clamp the candy stick between my teeth, trying to keep the sugar blob from touching my tongue as much as possible.

"Sho shorry... gush hib..."

She cackled at my garbled reply through the candy, clearly enjoying my reaction.

"Don't like it? I'll give you a fresh one."

She rummaged in her pocket and shoved a new, unopened candy into my chest pocket like it was nothing. Then she kicked off the ground, prepping to launch into the sky.

"Lighten up that face. I'm outta here!"

Bloody Mary vanished into the night sky without waiting for a response, leaving a flashy afterimage.

"Ptooey."

I spat out the candy once she was gone.

The thick strawberry scent lingered in my mouth the whole way back to the office.

...This sucks. So unfair. Now I'm dealing with this power-trip bullshit too.

I rinsed my mouth repeatedly in the office bathroom. Then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I tossed the new, still-wrapped candy she'd stuffed in my pocket onto my desk.

"Whoa, Sang-woo. Isn't this a Magical☆Stick Candy? Bloody Mary gave you this?"

Senior Joo Seo-ha approached with wide eyes. I slouched deep into my chair and replied flatly.

"Why does every ordinary strawberry candy have to be 'Magical☆' something?"

"Because it's obviously Magical☆, duh."

"No, I mean, why is it magical?"

Instead of answering, Senior pulled out her phone and shoved the screen in my face.

"......"

230,000 won. That sugar blob I'd casually spat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the street was fetching more than my weekly food budget. And with 14 bids, the price was still climbing right now.

"Why the long face?"

I barely heard Senior's question. Every ounce of resentment and anger toward Bloody Mary was already evaporating from my mind.

Her shoving that candy in my mouth wasn't some abuse of power. It was charitable welfare for a poorly paid civil servant.

I gently stroked the candy wrapper. Flipping it over, I saw her signature etched there too.

Aah, from now on, candy is magical, and Bloody Mary is a goddess. Any attacks on Bloody are attacks on me.

"Quit acting weird and sort Bloody ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Mary's paperwork."

"Yes, Senior! Starting right now!"

Tap, clack, tap! The cheerful clatter of my mechanical keyboard echoed through the office.

"Why can't I sleep...?"

She tossed and turned for the thirtieth time on the bed. Yesterday had been a miracle. Starting from where that gruff investigator's hand had touched, that unfamiliar yet comforting sensation wrapping her whole body. The insomnia that had plagued her life melted away—the feeling was still vivid.

"Yesterday... I fell asleep the moment I closed my eyes."

Ha-rin yanked at her tangled hair and sat up. The room was dark and silent.

Her fingertips began trembling faintly again. The hand tremors she'd thought gone had returned. The miracle that man gave her felt like a midsummer night's dream, slipping away from her side.

"That investigator..."

Unconsciously, she placed her hand near her side where he'd touched. The spot devoid of warmth felt so cold and empty, like a gaping hole in her chest.

Habitually, Ha-rin grabbed her smartphone from the bedside table. Below the association's sick leave approval text was a familiar streaming app notification.

"Ah..."

The ID of her most devoted fan, the one who cherished her streams. The very first viewer of the broadcasts she'd started because she wanted to be loved as Song Ha-rin, not Pure Summer.

A notification that would normally bring a smile, but right now, her mind was filled only with the face of that nameless man.

Ha-rin pulled the blanket over her head. More than sleep, she craved yesterday's peace.

"...I can't take it anymore."

Ha-rin kicked off the bed and flicked on the living room lamp. The artificial light pierced her darkness-adapted eyes, but glare was trivial now.

Without hesitation, she called her Magical☆Manager. The line rang only a few times before a curt, businesslike voice answered despite the late hour.

- Pure Summer? What's up this late? You still have two days of sick leave. Did something flare up?

"Ah, Manager. It's not that..."

Ha-rin swallowed dryly.

"You know that investigator from yesterday? The one... who wrote my report."

- Oh, the guy from Disaster Response? It went through fine. No issues with the evaluation.

"It's not about the score! I was wondering if you could give me his name or contact... I have something to tell him."

Silence fell over the line. Ha-rin held her breath, afraid her heartbeat might carry through.

- Names of report writers are confidential by principle.

"I know. To avoid conflicts if an eval goes bad between magical girls and investigators. Field agents and report drafters are kept separate too."

- Yeah, but why?

"But admin doesn't always stick to the rules, right? Investigators show up on-site, reveal names, take little gifts from girls, then go back and write their own reports. Unless it's a major fuckup ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠these days, evals are always good."

Everyone gets good evals, so even minor blemishes drag you down relatively. That was one reason she hated her position as a magical girl.

- Hm, true. So you wanna give that investigator a little thank-you gift? That's new for you...

"Exactly! If he gave me a good eval, I should return the favor!"

- Man, Pure Summer, you're one of a kind. Like a real-deal magical girl or something.

- But I don't know his name either.

"What? If even you don't know, who does?"

- When docs transfer between departments, the processor's name gets auto-masked for security. It arrives blanked out.

Ha-rin's eyes darted lostly. Her only hope blocked by bureaucratic walls. But the manager lit a new path.

- I can tell you where it came from. B District Disaster Response Office.

"B District... Disaster Response?"

- Yeah. Get active in their jurisdiction, and you'll probably run into him again? That world's small anyway.

Get active. The words sparked in Ha-rin's mind.

- Anyway, don't overdo it on leave. Hanging up.

Click.

The call ended, but Ha-rin couldn't pull the phone from her ear. B District Disaster Response Office. Where that man worked yesterday. And how they rushed to scenes where magical girls made a flashy mess.

"......I just need to break shit. Flashily."

A strange spark ignited in Ha-rin's eyes. Normally, she'd suppress her magic to avoid even cracking a shop window.

But what peace comes without war? Ha-rin prepared for battle to claim her peace.

Two days later.

BOOM—!

In central B District—a spot where monsters were usually handled quietly— an unprecedented roar erupted.

"Whoaaa! It's a magical girl!"

"Who's that? There's a girl who fights that flashy?"

Cheers erupted from citizens, but the scene was pure chaos. The massive water pressure from Pure Summer's staff didn't just blow off the monster's head—it flipped the entire road asphalt.

On purpose. A monster she could've handled at 10% output, but Pure Summer cranked her magic to 80%. Her midair kick's shockwave bent a streetlamp like taffy, crumbling a nearby building's outer wall.

This should... bring them, right?

The considerate magical girl of before was gone. One day's taste of respite had bred deeper void in two days. Pure Summer landed lightly atop the rubble. Breathing hard, but her eyes gleamed fiercely.

From afar, the Disaster Response Office's yellow van sirens began wailing. Ha-rin curved her lips faintly, awaiting that man's silhouette through the dust cloud.