Chapter 12: A Fateful Assignment

“Since you’re a deserter, you’ll be assigned directly to a unit. Specifically, to Magical Girl White Phoenix’s unit,” Seo-bin informed Si-yool.

“You’ll be transferred immediately after this evaluation,” she continued. “The officers are here.”

Several police officers entered the room, one of them cuffing Si-yool. He felt numb, the weight of Seo-bin’s words and the cold metal of the handcuffs barely registering.

He was tired of it all. Part-time jobs, mandatory military service, ten years as a warrior in another world… and now, they wanted him to be a magical girl. His life was a cruel joke.

“Any last words?” Seo-bin asked, addressing everyone in the room.

None of the magical girls spoke. White Phoenix was still catatonic, and the others seemed hesitant to speak up. They wouldn’t dare challenge a three-star general. Or maybe they simply had nothing to say.

Si-yool, however, had plenty to say.

“Me,” he said.

“No one? Alright then,” Seo-bin said, ignoring him completely.

“I’m right here, you b*tch!” Si-yool yelled.

“If there are no objections, please sign the consent forms on your way out,” Seo-bin continued, as if he hadn’t spoken.

Si-yool felt a surge of anger. This world was no different from the other one. No one listened to him. There were no decent people anywhere.

“Mr. Kim,” Seo-bin said, finally acknowledging him. She was probably going to ask him to behave himself.

“What?” Si-yool snapped.

“Don’t cause any trouble, okay?” Seo-bin asked.

“I will,” Si-yool replied. He was going to declare himself unfit the moment he arrived.

“Take him away,” Seo-bin said to the officers.

“F*ck,” Si-yool muttered as he was escorted out.

When Jin So-a regained consciousness, it was over. Si-yool was gone, as were the other magical girls. Only a stack of signed consent forms remained.

The evaluation was complete.

“So-a, are you awake?” a familiar voice asked.

It was Lee Seo-bin, her longtime friend and fellow magical girl.

“The results…?” Jin So-a asked, her voice barely a whisper.

She didn’t need to elaborate. Seo-bin always knew what she meant.

“Magical girl, of course,” Seo-bin replied.

Jin So-a nodded slowly. “I see.”

She wasn’t surprised.

He was intelligent, literate, and could do mental arithmetic. A perfect candidate. And the other magical girls had already signed the consent forms, including Seo-bin. There was no way to reverse the decision, even if she wanted to.

“Well, I hope he does well,” Jin So-a said, offering a silent wish for the stranger’s future. She wouldn’t be seeing him again.

“Oh, he’s been assigned to your unit,” Seo-bin said casually.

“What?! Why?!” Jin So-a exclaimed, feeling a surge of anger. Who had assigned him to her unit without her consent?

“Me,” Seo-bin replied.

“Who…?”

“I did,” Seo-bin repeated.

Jin So-a glared at her friend. “What were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice laced with suspicion.

Seo-bin, however, simply smiled sadly. “You’re not even going to greet your old friend? I’m a little hurt, So-a.”

“No, it’s… it’s good to see you, Seo-bin. But…” Jin So-a stammered, her anger fading. Seo-bin chuckled.

“I’m just teasing. You haven’t changed a bit since our ‘One Hundred Steps’ days,” she said.

“Don’t bring that up!” Jin So-a snapped.

Seo-bin simply smiled. She knew it was a sore spot for her friend.

The “One Hundred Steps” duo. A nickname given to them during the kaijin invasion, based on their magical girl colors: white and purple. But to Jin So-a, it was a constant reminder of her childlike body.

“What’s wrong? It’s a nostalgic nickname,” Seo-bin said.

“I still don’t have any hair down there!” Jin So-a exclaimed, referring to her lack of pubic hair. The nickname, though unintentional, felt like a personal attack.

“I’m glad you’re a white magical girl, though. If you were red, we’d be the ‘Red and Purple’ duo,” Seo-bin said, oblivious to Jin So-a’s discomfort.

“Let’s not go there,” Jin So-a muttered.

Seo-bin was always like this, deflecting any criticism with her smooth-talking ways. She was like a snake, charming and cunning. And her mascot was a snake. Her magical girl name was Purple Snake.

“Where are the mascots, by the way?” Jin So-a asked, changing the subject.

“I sent them away,” Seo-bin replied. She’d planned this conversation. Jin So-a knew that look. Her friend was up to something.

She’s more like a viper than a snake, Jin So-a thought.

Not that Seo-bin was a bad person. Her political maneuvering had secured many rights for magical girls, elevating their social status. Without her, they would have been treated like disposable tools.

But that wasn’t the issue now.

“Why did you assign him to my unit?” Jin So-a demanded.

“Is it because he’s a deserter?” Seo-bin asked.

“He’s a man! He can’t even use magic!” Jin So-a exclaimed. He was useless.

“Is that all?” Seo-bin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Of course not.

“Why my unit?” Jin So-a pressed. There were plenty of other units. Why hers?

“What if he causes problems and creates a manpower shortage?”

Magical girls were already stretched thin. What if this man caused even more problems? Like… pregnancies.

“Magical girls can still work while pregnant. I did,” Seo-bin pointed out.

“But they still need time off. You took three maternity leaves,” Jin So-a countered.

“True,” Seo-bin conceded.

“And pregnant magical girls are pulled from the front lines, right?”

“Yes. They give you a choice, but it’s mandatory. They say we need healthy babies to boost the birth rate,” Seo-bin explained.

“That’s why I’m worried,” Jin So-a said. She wasn’t going to forbid relationships between Si-yool and her unit members. That would only backfire. But what if it became a widespread problem? What if a significant portion of her unit became pregnant? Could they handle it? They were barely managing as it was.

“I don’t think we can,” Jin So-a admitted.

Seo-bin, however, ignored her concerns and asked a seemingly unrelated question. “So-a, do you know how old my kids are?”

“Uh… no,” Jin So-a replied, scratching her head. She’d heard Seo-bin had three children, but she’d never seen them. She didn’t want to be reminded of her own empty life.

“You’ve never seen them?” Seo-bin asked, her voice gentle.

“I… uh…” Jin So-a stammered, feeling a pang of guilt. She should have shown more interest in her friend’s life.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Seo-bin said with a smile. She held out her phone, a picture displayed on the screen. It was a picture of Seo-bin with her children.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Wow…” Jin So-a breathed, staring at the picture. It was the life she’d always dreamed of. So close, yet so far away.

“Jealous?” Seo-bin asked, teasingly.

“So jealous… wait, that’s not the point!” Jin So-a exclaimed, snapping out of her reverie. “Why are you showing me this when we’re talking about—”

“So-a,” Seo-bin interrupted, her voice suddenly serious. Her usual playful demeanor vanished.

“I wasn’t finished,” Jin So-a protested.

“Jin So-a,” Seo-bin repeated, her tone firm.

“What?” Jin So-a asked, finally giving in.

“What do you think of Kim Si-yool?”

It was an unexpected question. Jin So-a answered honestly. Seo-bin was serious whenever she adopted this tone.

“What do you mean, ‘what do I think’?”

“Just… your impression of him,” Seo-bin clarified.

“He’s… strange,” Jin So-a replied after a moment’s thought. He was the strangest person she’d ever met, even stranger than the members of her unit.

“I can’t read him at all,” she added. He was unpredictable, his thoughts and intentions a complete mystery.

“Is that all?” Seo-bin asked, her gaze searching. There was something more, wasn’t there?

Jin So-a hesitated, then admitted, “But… he doesn’t seem like a bad person…” she said quietly, a hint of conviction in her voice.

She still wasn’t sure. She’d only just met him. But…

“You think he’s a good person?” Seo-bin asked.

“I think so,” Jin So-a replied. He wasn’t malicious. In fact, she had a feeling he was… good. A good person who would sacrifice anything for something he believed in, even if it meant personal loss, even if it meant risking his own life.

“You think he’s kind,” Seo-bin summarized.

“Probably,” Jin So-a admitted. It wasn’t a logical conclusion based on her experience as a magical girl. It was simply… a feeling.

“Why did you ask?” Jin So-a asked, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart. It was surprisingly difficult to be so vulnerable.

Seo-bin smiled. “Don’t you think he’d make a good husband?”

“What…?” Jin So-a stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. This was… unexpected.