Congratulations on Your Magical Girl Duties

55 – Magical Accountant? (2)

The gunshot was my signal, and I moved with sudden urgency.

Like before, I hammered the mage’s traits into my mind, calculating the angle of the barrel and the number of rounds in real-time.

But.

This time, dodging wasn’t going to be as smooth as before.

“Ah, goddamn it.”

Correction.

Dodging just became a b*tch.

Every movement sent a jolt of pain from my side, momentarily seizing my legs. The recoil threatened to spill blood and guts with each step.

At this rate, I couldn’t even survive, let alone suppress. And getting closer wouldn’t gain me much either.

First, I needed to deal with this wound.

Suppression, survival – those were problems for later.

In the meantime, the white-haired mage was already launching another spell.

– KATHUMP!

I can’t dodge this one.

So, I draw the moon.

“New Moon.”

The spell dissipated, and I forced my legs to move again.

“Ah, damn it. Seriously.”

But I quickly stopped.

That last movement caused a torrent of blood to gush from my side. Followed by another wave of agonizing pain and dizziness.

By the time I could barely move, the white-haired mage had already reloaded.

Then, he pulled the trigger.

– KATHUMP!

“Who the hell are you, anyway? You cock-sucking b*stard.”

A look of disgust and confusion twisted my face.

An incomprehensible question, one I should have been asking myself.

But there was no reason to answer it, or even voice it.

Truthfully, there wasn’t the luxury.

My mind was racing as it was.

And even then, I hadn’t dodged properly; one ear was left ragged. Well, fortunate it ended there, at least.

Anyway.

Only one bullet remained in Whitedevil’s wand.

Thanks to the reload, two more were clutched in my other hand.

If I could evade just three more attacks, an opening would appear.

– Thaaang!

Two now. Barely avoided that one.

Of course, the price was a pain that coursed through me, worse than casting magic just now. Even a coil of intestine slipped out through the cracks of my hand.

Still, lucky me.

Still breathing, even in this state.

But luck never lasts for long.

– Schlak, click, click, snap.

The sound of a reload finished just as I shoved something back where it didn’t belong.

– Click.

The sound of a gun being leveled.

Death felt right beside me.

Not good.

Whoever had possessed Whitedevil’s body, they were growing accustomed to firearms.

The faster reload, the quicker aim, were proof of that. Faster than Whitedevil himself, even.

In that moment, the gunshots cracked.

– Thaaang!

– Thaaang!

Two in a row.

I didn’t see it, too busy shoving my guts back in, but I knew the direction.

If I could just get past this, there would be an opening.

Enough time to at least cover my side.

Then, I’ll draw the moon, even if it breaks me.

“New Moon.”

A chilling crescent, carved vertically, counters Whitey’s magic.

But.

It couldn’t negate all the pellets.

A locust swarm stung past me. Except, unlike normal locusts, these were formed of tiny metallic grains.

Their name, buckshot.

And the black locusts named buckshot didn’t devour me.

They merely, tore at me.

– Splatter.

Large and small pieces of flesh, components of my body, fell to the ground with a wet thud. Some, not yet detached, hung dangling.

“Mother…fucker….”

A curse erupted, followed by blood.

No, was the order reversed?

Truthfully, I can’t be sure.

Thankfully, because I’d cast the magic vertically, vital areas like my head or heart remained untouched.

But, that was all the mercy I received.

Every part of me aside from the center line of my body was a wreck.

My arms and legs were tattered, chunks of flesh ripped away, leaving bare bone exposed in places. Judging by the blood I coughed up, my stomach probably suffered some damage, too.

The reasons for my injuries, I could easily surmise.

Two blasts.

But they were different in nature.

One was caused by magic, the other by a physical projectile.

Naturally, a line-based magical attack like New Moon couldn’t block everything.

So, I had no choice but to take the damage.

If I had cast Half Moon or Waning Moon, the outcome would have been different, perhaps.

At this point, even though Whitey hadn’t acted directly, a wave of resentment washed over me.

Whitey, you fucking b*tch.

Why did you have to use a shotgun of all things?

But even that didn’t last long. Perhaps from the blood loss, my consciousness kept flickering.

That instant, Whitedog’s voice echoed in my ear.

“Occasionally, there’s a Magical Ant as stubborn as you.”

He seemed to think he’d more or less secured the victory; an unconcealed leisure oozed from Whitedog’s voice.

“They’re nothing but a bother to deal with. Even when you stomp them, they revive like some Weed, you know?”

A sneering, mocking tone full of annoyance constantly scraped at my nerves.

“What are you flailing about for, you piece of garbage? Can’t you just die quietly? You wouldn’t fetch much money even if you were sold, you little b*stard.”

Though he was only speaking using Whitedog’s voice, a baffling irritation welled up.

“I’m not great at remembering, but I met someone almost exactly like you before, you know? He waved around a Shining Sword just like you.”

My head was already spinning, and this taunting felt suspiciously like a test of my patience.

“Well, that guy was the real deal. Unlike scum like you, he was seriously strong.”

Was that why?

“I was going to take his head and claim the prize, but I almost died myself. Not that I exactly survived unscathed, mind you.”

My restraint was snapping, bit by bit.

“Swordsmen are all just a bunch of penises anyway. Disgusting, I tell you.”

That moment.

“That’s why I dislike unprofitable work.”

The single sentence just spoken sent a pulse of bloodlust through me.

I didn’t know why I was acting like this, the real reason, anyway.

Was I just driven to the absolute edge?

Why would that one phrase, of all things, make me want to kill him?

My mind couldn’t comprehend it, not in this state.

But.

It kept nagging at me. I didn’t want to just let it pass. I wanted to tear him to shreds.

It felt like I’d encountered something I loathed all over again.

I couldn’t articulate it concretely.

Just, instinctively, I felt that way.

That moment.

Some unknown someone, using Whitedog’s voice, voiced a genuinely curious question for the first time.

“But who are you, really? Have we met before?”

For a fleeting moment, it felt like the speaker wasn’t some unknown entity, but the Whitedog I knew. Meaning he was asking a moronic question.

Rather, I wanted to ask *him*.

Just who was he, that he stirred such a feeling of déjà vu?

The question was fleeting, however. Whitedog jeered at me once more.

*Click*, went the sound.

“So, ‘Magical Life’ is ‘The End’ now. What’ll you do, you Magical Ant shit?”

Checkmate.

Three letters, forming a single word, were etched clearly into my mind.

I concede.

In the current configuration, I can do nothing.

I can’t even properly avoid him, let alone approach and subdue him. And even if I *did* approach, he’d transform that magic wand again and catch me off guard, just like before.

Everything is against me.

The psychological warfare, the physical.

Granted, it seemed the shotgun Whitedog held only had two rounds left loaded, but optimism was a hard sell.

Because two rounds would be enough, anyway.

Enough to sever my precarious breath.

And if things went sideways, he could always pull out the unused revolver.

A situation where defeat was, in effect, certain.

Therefore.

“What does an ant do when its life’s fucked?”

What I needed to do next wasn’t exactly simple.

“Go to the Han River, motherfucker.”

Shatter the configuration completely.

Taking a wide step forward.

Bracing my knee.

Drawing a crescent moon.

“Half-Moon.”

Not towards Whitedog, but towards the floor.

Only then did the emotion of alarm finally fill Whitedog’s previously nonchalant face.

“Hey, you crazy b*stard! What the hell are you even do─!”

“Never tried jumping into the Han River, have you? Building jumps, sure.”

With my magic, a section of the floor beneath Huing-dung and I vanishes, crumbling entirely in the end.

“Taste the true foundations of Utopia, why don’t you?”

I wanted to end it all back then, truly.

I’d even been checking prices for charcoal briquettes.

And so, Huing-dung and I plummet.

Like crashing stocks, downwards.

Towards the bottom beneath the bottom.

Had I not considered the variables? Or did I simply dally and miss my chance to react?

Huing-dung, caught off guard, sprawls inelegantly on the ground.

“Ugh!”

Of course, it doesn’t last long; she’s quickly back on her feet. A magical girl’s physique prevents any serious injury.

Falling, collapsing, then rising.

The entire process took mere moments. A short time, easily missed in a single blink.

But, that fleeting instant was enough.

Enough time for me to reach Huing-dung.

And.

Enough to conjure the moon.

“Waning Moon.”

The full moon manifests.

Slowly, resplendently, traced along the blade’s path.

Then, for a moment, the world froze.

I saw the fear and confusion rising in Huing-dung’s face. I felt the warmth of bubbling blood and the writhing of exposed entrails in my side.

Within the frozen world, the Moonlight Sword moves.

Towards Huing-dung’s neck.

Little by little, ever so gradually. But surely.

The moon, painted in miniscule slivers of time, finally bites shallowly into Huing-dung’s throat.

In that instant, everything disappeared.

The despair coloring Huing-dung’s blue eyes, the resplendent full moon being drawn, the Moonlight Sword in my hand.

Instead.

Two paths lay before me.