Something Smells Fishy
Monday, 5:25 p.m.
The instant Gang Hayan—Magical Sylph—left for work, Cayen, living under the stolen identity of Kim Chulsoo, stepped out of her officetel and returned to his one-room villa, sinking into deep thought.
Discovering that the married woman he had met on a dating app was a former magical girl had filled him with delight, yet building the finer framework of his plan was proving far from simple.
“If only that old lich had been around, he’d have cooked up a decent scheme. Tch.”
Cayen found himself longing for the empty skull of Lichmond, the fallen sage who had once been his fellow Heavenly King and senior.
“Back when the old man nagged me to study, all I ever did was run away…”
In those careless days as the youngest of the Four Heavenly Kings, he had dismissed the teachings of the Demon King’s greatest dark mage and strategist as nothing more than tedious lectures, never even letting them reach his ears.
The regret cut deep, yet Cayen was not the sort to waste time mourning what had already passed.
Whatever. Magical Sylph installed a dating app because she was lonely anyway. For now I’ll just do things my way.
Having learned every habitual move married women made through Something Day, Cayen stretched, slipped a hand down inside his pants, and gripped himself.
I’m hard as hell.
To clear his head he opened his phone gallery, zoomed in on the nude photos he had secretly taken of Gang Hayan, and admired those heavy breasts and that plump rear.
She’ll be getting ready to leave work soon.
5:35 p.m.
For any ordinary office worker it was the hour to pack up and go home.
Click. Click. Click.
Cayen snapped a rapid series of shots of his own towering erection, then immediately opened PicStar and fired them straight to Gang Hayan.
Less than a minute later Gang Hayan followed up with a lengthy message scolding him about never sending pictures of his cock.
Cayen, far from disappointed at being refused, narrowed his eyes and fixed a sharp glare on the one sentence that revealed the real reason she had turned down his offer to meet her.
“An older sister she knows… Something smells fishy.”
He had no solid proof that the “older sister” Gang Hayan mentioned was a first-generation magical girl. Yet Cayen trusted the animal instincts he had honed as a demon while roaming countless battlefields.
Without a second’s hesitation he yanked his pants back into place, kicked open the door of his one-room villa, and sprinted toward the officetel where Gang Hayan lived.
Monday, 7:26 p.m.
A pork-belly restaurant.
“…Next time call me first before you show up. Got it?”
Watching Cayen place a perfectly browned slice of pork belly onto her plate, Gang Hayan soothed her jittery stomach with a sip of cola and murmured the warning in a low voice.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I just missed you so much.”
“And those pictures you sent today… hold back a little, okay? It’s embarrassing…”
“You didn’t like them?”
“……”
The moment she had seen Cayen’s erect cock she had hastily saved the photos and bolted for the bathroom; guilt now kept her from answering honestly.
Inside the shop thick with the smell of grilling meat, Cayen watched Gang Hayan’s voluptuous figure give off a rich, ripe female scent and slid a hand under the table.
“W-we’re inside a restaurant…”
“So it’s fine as long as we’re not in a restaurant?”
“Get your hand off me before Lena comes back.”
Gang Hayan gave the back of his hand a sharp little slap.
“Sorry.”
“Behave yourself in public.”
“But I don’t have to behave at home?”
“Stop picking at every little thing. Do you want me to really scold you?”
She clenched both fists and playfully jabbed the air as if boxing, smiling all the while.
“Oh? Caught you.”
“When I go to the bathroom, follow me.”
“Huh?”
Cayen caught her fists, spoke those words, then released her just as Helena Ainsworth returned from the restroom and took her seat.
“Helena Noona, please have some too.”
As if nothing had happened, Cayen transferred a nicely browned slice of pork belly onto Helena Ainsworth’s plate.
“We’re not close, so don’t call me that.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“Helena.”
“That’s a bit stiff.”
Helena Ainsworth crossed her arms, her expressionless face sending not a word of pressure but a formless, crushing weight straight at him.
Been a long time since I smelled that kind of mana.
Beside him Gang Hayan radiated a thick female scent; across the table Helena Ainsworth aimed killing intent wrapped in mana at Cayen.
“I-I’m sorry…”
“As long as you understand.”
When Helena Ainsworth uncrossed her arms and withdrew her mana, Cayen let out a labored breath and made a show of wiping sweat from his brow.
Still the same as ever—the strongest bitch of the first generation.
“L-Lena, you can’t just do that all of a sudden…”
“I kept it short. Let’s eat, Hayan.”
“Chulsoo, if you feel sick say so right away, okay?”
“Hayan. The meat here’s good. Eat it before it burns.”
Cayen forced a smile to reassure the worried Gang Hayan, yet Helena Ainsworth—who had been the one applying the formless pressure—simply moved her chopsticks as though nothing were amiss.
Even Magical Prism’s instincts have dulled quite a bit.
Cayen deliberately heaved a heavy, clogged-sounding sigh; Helena Ainsworth scolded him not to sigh at the table.
“Lena.”
“Fine.”
Thereafter Cayen only picked at his food, carefully watching Helena Ainsworth’s every reaction.
His pride was not wounded in the least. Living under a dead man’s ID and doing day labor had long ago taught him to discard pride entirely.
Crushing a female who thinks she’s the best has its own special flavor. I’ll endure for now.
Instead he was already enjoying the pleasant puzzle of how to bring the once-so-lofty Magical Prism to her knees the way he had in the old days.
“Kid. You drink?”
“…A little, yeah.”
Helena Ainsworth had been born in Britain, yet her family, tired of the discrimination she faced for being mixed-blood, had made the hard decision to settle in Korea early on.
Perhaps that was why.
Clack.
“You’re a big guy, so let’s not be stingy with shot glasses.”
Helena Ainsworth pushed a beer glass brimming with soju toward Cayen.
Outwardly she looked every bit the foreigner who took after her mother, yet in every action she was pure Korean to the core. On top of that, having begun her career as a first-generation magical girl so young, a default setting of “young old-timer” had been permanently installed.
“L-Lena? We’re eating, so maybe drink later somewhere quieter…”
Cayen intended to play the perfect underdog.
“…That’s not nearly enough.”
Yet the old belief that you never dodge a fight someone picks with you still burned inside him. He picked up the glass full of soju and, without even tilting it, poured the entire contents down his throat.
“You think one glass is enough?”
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as though nothing had happened, he refilled the same beer glass to the brim with soju and held it out.
“Bold, aren’t you.”
Helena Ainsworth’s face remained utterly devoid of emotion at Cayen’s petty provocation. She simply lifted the glass and drained it in one go.
She had seen right through the impure intentions this man harbored toward Gang Hayan—her lifelong comrade and precious little sister. Red eyes flashing, she poured another full measure of soju into the empty glass, determined to make certain he never approached Hayan again.
“What are you two doing?! You’ll ruin your stomachs drinking like that!”
“Hayan, you know Unnie has never gotten drunk.”
“I’ve never gotten drunk either.”
As the pride match began in earnest, Gang Hayan tried desperately to stop them.
He said he’d go to the bathroom. He gave me the signal…
She felt no worry for Helena Ainsworth, the comrade who had shared life and death with her and her close older sister. Even without transforming into a magical girl, Helena could burn alcohol away with mana; Gang Hayan was certain this contest could only end badly for Cayen, so she kept trying to intervene.
“What’s wrong? Not drinking?”
But when Cayen emptied and refilled his glass without the slightest hesitation, a vein twitched at the temple of the previously expressionless Helena Ainsworth.
Monday, 9:45 p.m.
Instead of more meat, the table was now filled with bottles of soju.
“You can hold your liquor.”
“Hasn’t even reached my liver yet.”
Having already split fifteen bottles of soju between them, neither man’s nor woman’s face had changed color; both continued to provoke each other with easy smiles.
“I have work tomorrow, so I’m going home. I’m tired…”
Even Gang Hayan, who could no longer bear to watch the most pathetic drinking contest on earth, spoke in a weary voice—partly because she herself had been sipping soju throughout.
“Uh, customers… we’re closing soon…”
Every other patron had already left; the part-timer wiping down the empty hall seized the chance to plead with them.
However much of a young old-timer Helena Ainsworth might be, she was not the sort of ruffian who would ignore a restaurant’s closing time.
“All right. Just one last glass…”
“Giving up already?”
The moment Cayen knocked back his soju and lifted one corner of his mouth, Helena Ainsworth—stung by the words—shot to her feet and declared they would settle it at a convenience store.
“…You’re going to keep drinking?”
Gang Hayan’s open look of disgust made Helena, who was currently freeloading at her place, feel the weight of her position.
“Pay the bill.”
Helena Ainsworth pulled a card from her wallet and held it out to Cayen, adding that they would drink properly over the weekend.
“I was the one who forced the drinking, so I should pay.”
“I’m not taking free drinks from a kid who’s nothing but size.”
“If you put it that way… Before that, I need the bathroom.”
“Pay first, then go.”
When he bluntly announced that sitting so long drinking had left his bladder ready to burst, Helena Ainsworth’s previously uncreased brow furrowed.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Tsk.”
Helena openly clicked her tongue before Cayen had even turned his back.
“Lena, I need the bathroom too…”
“I’ll go with you.”
“N-no. I just… ate something greasy. I’ll be quick.”
“I’ll pay and wait.”
Watching Helena Ainsworth head for the counter with the card, Gang Hayan dashed straight for the restroom.
“Ch-Chulsoo…?”
Stepping into the unisex bathroom, she carefully called the name of the man who was nowhere in sight.
“Over here.”
“Huh? Why is the door…?”
Drawn by Cayen’s voice coming from an open stall, Gang Hayan walked forward as if spellbound.
“?! Y-y-you—right now?!”
Confronted with the scene beyond the open door, she was too stunned even to scream.
“Come in.”
There sat Cayen on the toilet in that narrow stall, a condom already rolled down over his erect cock, which twitched eagerly in invitation.