Chapter 7: A Test of Skill, a Clash of Wills

“You said I could speak casually,” Si-yool repeated, his smirk widening.

The magical girls and their mascots stared at him in stunned silence. The green-haired magical girl’s knuckles were white as she struggled to contain her rage. She hadn’t expected this.

“So, speaking casually, why…” Si-yool continued, then added, “Oh, if you’re uncomfortable with it, just say so… ajumma.”

The effect was immediate. The air in the room thickened, heavy with the green-haired magical girl’s raw emotions: hatred, resentment, and a palpable killing intent. It was overwhelming, threatening to tear Si-yool apart.

She was certainly powerful, her aura radiating strength despite her irritating personality. But Si-yool wasn’t intimidated. He’d faced far stronger opponents in the other world. Even the weaker ones, when they attacked in groups, posed a significant threat. After ten years of such encounters, little could faze him anymore.

“Are you insane?!” the magical girl roared.

Si-yool simply smiled. “Maybe. I’m not very educated. You’ll have to excuse me,” he said, mimicking her earlier condescension.

He wasn’t doing this for fun. This was his chance, his only chance, to be deemed unfit to be a magical girl. He was aiming for exemption, or at the very least, public service.

He knew it was a long shot. The standards were incredibly strict. Even with a hole in your lung, you were fit for active duty. Tortured to the brink of insanity? Still fit for active duty. Practically disabled? Active duty. How could anyone possibly be deemed unfit?

He doubted the Magical Association would be any different. They were just the MMA in a different guise. Besides, his body was in perfect condition, unlike in the other world. He was the prime candidate for active duty.

His only option was to prove, during this psychological evaluation, that he was mentally unfit to be a magical girl.

And the green-haired magical girl was his first target, simply because she was the most annoying.

“A deserter calling me crazy? Are you kidding me?” she seethed.

“Nope,” Si-yool replied, popping the ‘p’.

“You little…!” she roared, slamming her fist on the table, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the surface. “If you were in my unit, I would have killed you already!”

“I know,” Si-yool said calmly. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

It was almost comical. They’d had the same thought about each other. Great minds think alike, as they say.

However, there was one thing Si-yool hadn’t anticipated.

The magical girl pointed her wand at him. “You’re going to die here.”

A green light began to gather at the tip of the wand. Si-yool hadn’t expected such a drastic escalation. The magical girl’s mascot frantically tried to intervene.

[Stop! You can’t point your wand at a civilian!]

Si-yool was almost touched. In most magical girl stories, the mascot shared the magical girl’s personality and desires. But this mascot was actively trying to stop her.

[Especially not with a lethal spell!] it shrieked.

Si-yool had rarely experienced such kindness, even in the other world. He felt a lump forming in his throat. The mascot, a green pufferfish, was surprisingly reasonable.

[I’ll get another pay cut! I’ll have to eat terrible food again!] it wailed.

“Shut up and eat what you’re given!” the magical girl snapped.

Si-yool’s brief moment of sentimentality vanished. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. Like magical girl, like mascot. They were both idiots.

Wait a minute. Did it say “another” pay cut? She’d done this before?

Some things never changed. Officers needed to be taken down a peg.

The magical girl gripped her wand tighter, her teeth gritted. “I was trying to be patient, but I can’t anymore.”

Her rage was palpable, her killing intent unwavering. Si-yool, however, found himself fascinated. He hadn’t expected to see magical power so soon after returning from the other world. It was almost… nostalgic.

“This is your fault,” she hissed, the green energy at the tip of her wand coalescing into a large thorn.

“Die, you bastard.”

The energy stabilized. It was about to be fired. It would be fast, and powerful.

“Needle Point!” she shouted.

The green thorn shot across the room, silent and deadly.

[No!] the mascot cried, its voice too late to stop the attack.

[Stop—!] it shrieked, bracing for the inevitable—

[Huh…?]

—then let out a confused squeak.

“What…?” the magical girl whispered, her voice filled with disbelief.

The reason for their bewilderment was simple.

“Whoa,” Si-yool said, having dodged the attack. “Scary.”

Not that the attack was trivial. It was powerful and fast, leaving a gaping hole in the wall where it struck. But dodging it wasn’t difficult. In fact, it would have been more surprising if he hadn’t dodged it.

It was a spell designed to kill monsters.

Monsters in magical girl stories were typically simple creatures, driven by instinct to destroy. Thus, the spells used against them were equally simple: straightforward blasts of magical energy, prioritizing power over finesse. Efficient and effective against mindless monsters.

“It’s powerful, but…” Si-yool mused, “lacking.”

It wasn’t a spell meant for humans. Killing a human required something far more potent than mere killing intent.

“It needs… malice,” Si-yool whispered. The kind of pure, unadulterated malice that went beyond human comprehension, a level of depravity that would make even the most hardened criminals shudder. That was the kind of magic he was used to from the other world.

Pain inflicted with exquisite cruelty.
Deception woven with intricate malice.
Death delivered with chilling artistry.

This simple spell was nothing. He’d survived far worse in the other world. Even without his warrior abilities, this was child’s play.

“H-how? How did you dodge that?” the magical girl stammered, blinking in disbelief. She’d been so confident in her attack.

“You missed?” Si-yool asked, feigning surprise. “Seriously? Be honest, you weren’t aiming for me, were you?” He couldn’t believe she’d used a lethal spell against a human. “You’re the idiot here,” he taunted, deciding to push her further. “Do you want to be a magic master?” He couldn’t be the only one suffering. “Want me to teach you? I’m a magic master.”

Green light began to gather at the tip of her wand again, this time in multiple thorns. She was going to kill him.

“I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you,” she growled.

“Same here. You’re the ugliest ajumma I’ve ever seen,” Si-yool retorted.

“I’m going to kill you!” she screamed.

But nothing happened. The spell wasn’t fired. Si-yool didn’t have to dodge. It simply… vanished.

A bright flash filled the room, and the green energy dissipated.

“Enough,” a dry voice commanded, cutting through the silence.