Mr. Magical Girl

Chapter 02: That’s Just Life (1)

“From the otherworld, the Invaders have been busting in for 30 years now.”

The host babbles on about current events:

Just that itself is annoying enough, and now the damned broadcasting station messed up the lighting, blinding me to the point that I could die.

The other girls are giggling and seem to be having a good time, not bothered by the brightness at all.

“Humanity faced the crisis of being overrun, but in the end, we persevered!”

Waving his hands wildly, holding onto the mic as if overacting. I can’t really get the point of his performance.

These days, I wonder if that kind of theatrics works well anymore.

It’s been so long since I watched television that I’m not even sure.

Turning my head to the back, I noticed footage flashing by, highlighting various past incidents.

Giant monsters that crushed nations. A secret organization that turned all of a city’s inhabitants into machines.

A crazed magical girl who replaced rainwater with drugs, claiming to make humanity happy.

Superhumans that paralyzed all communications. The Spirit Queen plotting to manipulate the sea and flood the lands.

The immortal phoenix that triggered volcanoes worldwide.

The final showdown fought from a giant robot in the Pacific Ocean.

Countless moments of near-apocalyptic crises for humanity, and I can’t help but think, how did they survive back then?

Every time my battle appears on screen, a little spark of pride flickers within me.

“Unni, didn’t you participate in that fight against them?”

Oh wow, has it already been two years?

“Isn’t it about time for your retirement, Unni? It’s been three years now.”

“I’d love to, but my story hasn’t ended yet.”

“How much longer do you have?”

“I just have to take down the boss, and then it’ll be over.”

“I’m so jealous. I’m still active.”

“But now that it’s time to retire, it’s different. You just want to enjoy it without regrets.”

“Yes! Unni!”

As I hear the excited chatter of the other girls around me, my earlier excitement quickly fades away.

Hearing them talk so loudly starts to irritate me.

I can’t even block my ears, and looking at the quiet men heroes across from us, they’re all staring at the screen with their mouths shut tight.

Why couldn’t they sit over there instead? Being shoved in with the loud girls makes me want to just disappear.

The program hasn’t even started yet, but I already feel a strong urge to quit.

Should I just throw in the towel?

I’m on the verge of doing just that, but then the reason I came on the show comes to mind.

An empty bank account, and a refrigerator filled only with ice.

Remembering that catastrophe, my heart sinks.

Alright, just a little longer.

I have to endure; after all, I haven’t received any requests for dealing with free-roaming monsters lately. Compared to fighting enemies from the otherworld, I can tolerate this little annoyance:

“That’s “Nico-Mam” over there.”

As time drags on, it seems the broadcasting station prepared the footage, and the host starts waving his hands again passionately.

“Well then, let’s kick off the 30th anniversary of the otherworld invasion broadcast!

Now, we’ll introduce the heroes who protect us, one team at a time!”

Ah, so that’s why we’re all seated separately like this.

I had only heard that the program would gather the old heroes and the current ones for a talk show.

“Leave the magic to us, your adorable and charismatic Magical Girls! Please welcome our four lovely ladies.”

From the very start, they introduce the Magical Girls.

Why is it that we’re the ones up first?

“I love you all!”

“Thank you for your continuous support!”

“Cute and full of justice!”

The girls next to me strike poses for the camera, clearly trying to appeal. Even if it’s embarrassing, surely it must earn them something.

Seeing them, I begin to wonder if I should do something to appeal too, but it feels too late for that.

So all I can do is manage a smile and wave my hand.

After all, those who recognize me will know who I am anyway.

It’s been 30 years; my name is well-known by now, so some cred is expected.

“Indeed, the Magical Girls are lively as always. Now, let’s move on to the next segment.”

*

Time for questions for the retirees. Feelings during those incidents, recent updates—this segment progresses smoothly enough.

“After retirement, do you find it uncomfortable to lose your powers?”

“Not really. I never had my own power to begin with.”

I remember her. The leader of the original transformation squad in those early days. She merged with a giant robot during her last battle.

We used to be close friends, but I realize we haven’t been in touch for a while now.

“Still, I’ve heard you invest a lot of time in honing your physical capabilities. Don’t you feel it’s a waste?”

“The powers may be gone, but the trained body remains. I’m far stronger now than an average person.”

“That’s interesting. Then for the next question—there have been various rumors about what you’ve been up to since retirement.”

“I’ve traveled abroad to volunteer in areas affected by the invasion. I could earn some money, but the pension I receive from the United Nations is enough.”

Pension. That word flows through my mind like a dream. At the same time, I ponder when I’ll get to retire too.

While my peers are sitting there enjoying their pensions, why am I still here, struggling in the field?

“Right then. It seems you are living like a true old hero.”

“Finally, could you give a message to the juniors?”

With that, he grabs the mic and stands, looking toward the heroes in active duty.

With shining eyes, he starts his speech.

“What you’re doing right now is hard and tiring. There will be those who fight alone in solitude, and those who have companions beside them.”

A passionate speech starts, often said but laced with sincerity from an old hero who has been through so much.

“Everyone will eventually face defeat, and you may wonder why you’re doing this, finding yourself engulfed in dark thoughts.”

“The world only wants to see your bright side. As a hero, you are seen only as a superhuman, distant from the ordinary.”

“But we know the truth; as individuals, you also experience pain and suffering.”

“I’ve graduated from the mental side, but my empty bank account is an issue.”

“When you’re struggling, always remember that our seniors have walked this path too. If it gets too hard, don’t hesitate to reach out to us. There’s always a way to help you, even if you feel you’ve lost your strength.”

As he says this, he turns his gaze to the active heroes seated in the audience.

The active heroes look at the old hero with shining eyes, but I’m indifferent, gazing at them with a blank expression.

The mental part is already stable, but is there any way I could at least share some of the financial burden?

“The massive burden of humanity resting on your shoulders isn’t yours alone to carry. Your comrades, we, and the promising juniors stand beside you.”

As he says this, he looks like he’s trying to take in everyone’s faces, his eyes sharpening as he gazes at each one.

As he glances around the group, his eyes land on my seat.

His sincere gaze intersects with my dispassionate stare.

He doesn’t seem to recognize me at first, but soon he seems to discover something weird about me, abruptly turning his head and dropping his mouth open in surprise.

“Why are you here?” is written all over his astonished face.

Well, buddy, I’m still not retired, so what can you do about it?

I myself don’t even know why I’m sitting here.

The old hero looks at me in shock as noises stir around us.

“Who are you?”

“Ah, I heard about her! The 30-year magical girl!”

“Oh, I’ve heard that rumor: she turns monsters into meat paste, right? Is she even a real person?”

My official hero name is “Crimson Hammer” but at any moment, I might die of embarrassment.

As the buzz spreads, the host seems to find this perfect opportunity, striking a flamboyant pose.

“Oh, that’s the longest-serving magical girl, Crimson Hammer! Please step up to the stage!”

Damn it.

With no choice, I rise from my seat and walk onto the stage.

Glancing at old friends passing by, they give me awkward smiles as if to say, “Good luck.”

I can pick a fight with this guy later.

Sinking into a plush chair, the host beams as he begins his questioning.

“Well then, Crimson Hammer, can I ask you a few questions?”

“Just call me Lee Haram. That’s my name.”

“That’s unusual, using your real name instead of your hero name. Any reason for that?”

Isn’t it obvious? It’s just embarrassing.

“It’s been so long that my nickname feels outdated and I’m not fond of it anymore.”

“I understand.”

The host nods with understanding, it seems.

Honestly, the names these kids come up with are just as childish, but since he bought my excuse, who cares?

“Let’s move on to the next question then.”

“Having been active for 30 years, that’s a record not found in other countries. What are your thoughts on that, Lee Haram?”

How would I know? I haven’t even seen the higher-ups. I’m stuck dealing with low-tier enemies.

“I’m just glad to have served as a hero of justice for so long. But lately, I hope my story’s enemies would show up.”

“The last time your enemy appeared was when?”

“Ten years ago, during the siege of the elite forces.”

“That was quite some time ago.”

“Indeed, but considering the strength of my enemies, I wish they would come out soon.”

I’d much prefer if all of them, from the subordinates to the boss, would just pop out at once! Please, let me retire!

The host seems to empathize with my statements, nodding along.

A staff member approaches him with a note written on a white piece of paper.

“Turns out we have video footage from that time. Let’s watch it together.”

I wonder how dangerous that footage is…?

Before I can stop it, the video starts playing on the screen behind us.

Dark night.

I can’t see myself, as it seems like it was filmed from above, filling the screen with dark monsters.

Creatures from the otherworld are consuming an entire city.

The shadows encroach upon the city, eroding it and rooting themselves in the soil, writhing.

If this continues, the entire city will be taken by those monstrous beings.

Crack, crunch.

I hear the sickening sound of flesh being crushed, and the towering monstrosity swaying as it grows in the sky.

“Do you see that? Right now, Crimson Hammer is fighting against the otherworld’s creatures!”

It looks like the footage is recorded from a helicopter, with a reporter screaming out what’s happening on-screen. The footage zooms in, and there I am, standing amidst the chaos.

Covered in flesh, wearing clothes stained with blood, the Magical Girl in my brutal state:

The trademark golden hammer, now covered in blood and bits of flesh, no longer shines with its original gold hue.

I approach the incoming monstrosities with a blank face, swinging my hammer, turning their forms into piles of meat and collecting bodies as I advance.

I reach the central square where a huge creature is deeply rooted, extending its limbs.

As I raise my blood-drenched hammer, I bring it down swiftly, shattering the monstrosity into pieces.

If that were the end, then it would just be a regular battle, but the shockwave generated by my hammer blast destroys houses nearby.

The blast doesn’t stop there; it continues to ripple outward, battering the helicopter taking footage and the reporter’s scream rings out until it abruptly cuts off.

As the video ends, silence falls over the studio.

How could they air such a gruesome, horrific segment?

It’s a miracle I even survive appearing on this broadcast!

The host seems at a loss for words, staring blankly at the screen:

This is a broadcasting accident, for sure.

Did they not check the footage beforehand? How could they have let that through?

What I know for sure now is that my name, which hasn’t been mentioned in a while, will definitely trend on the internet again.

---