Chapter Thirty-One: The God of Magic and Science (Part Two)

The soccer ball the little boy had been clutching rolled off to the side. Although he was the one who’d been knocked over, all he could do was sit powerlessly on the ground, trembling. Surrounded by five burly men, he naturally showed a look of terror.

“Hey, brat! Watch where you’re going! Our boss’s body is very fragile—looks like you’ll have to pay his medical bills now,” came the taunting voice.

It would have sounded perfectly logical if such words had come from those big men, but the one who actually spoke was Moyuna. With a serious expression, she mimicked lines she’d seen before, for these men, both in stature and in the way they made their entrance, might as well have had “I’m a villain” written on their faces.

“That’s what you’re supposed to say, right?”

After speaking, Moyuna gestured for them to get on with their business. She wasn’t wrong—no matter the city, riffraff and lowlifes were everywhere. This five-man crew was none other than the Dris Rot Squad, led by their boss Chum, who spent their days stirring up trouble and harassing the neighborhood.

“Y-yes, b-boss, you’re a genius!” one of the gang members stammered, pointing at Moyuna and nodding vigorously. It wasn’t clear if he was a natural stutterer or simply so awestruck by Moyuna’s charm that his tongue got tied.

“Do you two know each other?” asked Chum. Bald and wearing a round, flat-brimmed cap that lent him a touch of intelligence, he seemed a bit different from his lackeys, at least not foolish enough to rush up and lay his hands on Moyuna.

“N-no, we just ran into each other by chance.”

“Listen, brat, since you’ve bumped into me, you can’t just walk away. Here’s the deal: fill this magic stone with energy and I’ll waive the medical fees.”

Chum was unaware of any relationship between Moyuna and the boy. Because of certain rumors, he was somewhat wary of Moyuna, so he intended to take care of the appetizer first. After rummaging in his pocket, Chum produced a transparent stone and tried to coax the boy. In this world of magic, magical energy could indeed be sold. Magicians could absorb the energy stored in magic stones to replenish themselves or use it in experiments. Of course, here magic and vitality were linked—losing magic meant physical weakness was inevitable.

“If I do that, my magic power...” the boy murmured, fully aware of the trouble he was in. He looked around for help, having long since dismissed Moyuna as useless—she couldn’t even cast second-tier spells. He figured she might as well run while she still could, though he couldn’t understand why she seemed so entertained by the spectacle.

“Don’t worry, you’ll just be laid up in bed for a day at most. The world’s a dangerous place; if you keep wandering around, you’ll get hurt. Uncle’s just looking out for you.”

“By the way, I’ve really enjoyed watching your little performance. But I’ve got something I’d like to try out.”

At some point, Moyuna had walked over to the boy’s side. She smiled at Chum—a friendly, beautiful smile—and before he could recover from the sight of such a dazzling grin, he felt something hard pressed against his stomach.

“What’s this?” Chum looked down to see Moyuna holding a black rod, one end of which was pressed against his abdomen.

“A stun baton,” Moyuna replied, pressing the switch as the manual described. The metal tip crackled with electricity. The gang members saw their boss inexplicably twitch a few times before collapsing to the ground, convulsing.

“Oh! This thing is so much fun!” Moyuna exclaimed in delight, examining the fascinating gadget in her hand. Compared to frying these men with magic, she found using such tools much more entertaining.

“W-what happened? D-did she just use a lightning spell?” the stuttering gang member yelped as he hurried to cradle the fallen Chum. The others confirmed that they hadn’t sensed any magical energy.

“Hey, kid, what are you spacing out for? Run!” Moyuna ruffled the boy’s hair while the gangsters were still concerned about Chum, ready to make their escape. Having just ambushed them, she knew they’d be on guard now and wouldn’t let her get close again.

“Oh, right!” The boy seemed to snap back to reality, grabbed his soccer ball, and dashed after Moyuna.

“Let me see, what else can I use... Hey, kid, why are you running so fast?” Moyuna muttered as she ran, rummaging through her spatial ring for something useful. The gangsters, having recovered, were now chasing after them. She quickly realized she wasn’t cut out for running; the kid was already more than ten meters ahead.

“You’re just slow. Miss, are you bad at magic and bad at running, too?” the boy teased, forced to slow down so Moyuna could keep up. To be outpaced by a child—what a disgrace.

“Don’t call me ‘Miss’!” Moyuna, realizing she’d be caught soon anyway, simply stopped. In her right hand she held a lighter, in her left a slender firecracker. Following the instructions, she lit the fuse and tossed it at the feet of the pursuing gangsters.

Bang!

Anyone who’s ever set off firecrackers up close knows there’s a world of difference between covering your ears and not. Even adults can be startled by the sudden explosion. Caught off guard, the gangsters all froze in place.

Humans and most creatures judge danger by sound. Hearing a blast as loud as a third-tier lightning spell, the gangsters instinctively deemed this thing dangerous—far beyond anything they could handle.

“This is pretty fun, too,” Moyuna mused, pulling out another firecracker. As she stepped forward, the gangsters all retreated in unison. Naturally, the roles quickly reversed—Moyuna, no longer the one being chased, pursued the gangsters down the street, firecrackers crackling in her wake.

“Hehehe, there’s no escape for you now,” she called after them with a wicked grin.

Perhaps in their panic, the gangsters ran into a dead end. Moyuna, brandishing another firecracker, advanced with a devilish smile, while the poor thugs huddled together in the corner, shivering. They dared not imagine what a third-tier spell would do to them.

“Who’s the real villain here?” the boy shouted from behind Moyuna, incredulous at how quickly the tables had turned.

“Ice Magic: Shattering Ice Blades!”

Just as Moyuna was about to light another fuse, she sensed a surge of magical energy. Instantly, she threw herself over the boy and rolled them both across the ground. Sharp shards of ice now jutted from the spot where they’d just been.

“Boss Chum!” the gangsters cried, tears of relief streaming down their faces. Had he arrived a moment later, they’d have died at the hands of this she-devil.

“You wretched woman, that electric shock hurt! You’ll pay for what you’ve done!” Chum bellowed.

“Ah, so in the end, it comes down to magic after all. I’m not very skilled yet. Kid, take this and stand back a bit,” Moyuna said, surprised that the gang leader could cast third-tier spells. Such magic was already quite powerful. She trusted the gadgets Ruby had given her could handle this situation, but she didn’t have time to pore over the instructions now. She slipped the bracelet from her wrist and handed it to the boy.

Moyuna had never promised to always carry the magic-testing herb. She’d honored her agreement with Ruby out of courtesy, but now was a different story.

“Well then, are you ready to go to hell?”

Vast magical power surged forth, crashing over everyone like a tidal wave. Not one of them, not even Chum, could muster the will to resist. No matter how they tried to sense it, the result was the same: a terrifying, boundless sea of magic.

“Mama!” The gangsters, never having experienced such dreadful pressure, fled in terror, calling for their mothers as they ran, as if staying a moment longer would be the end of them.

“So you’re their mother?” the boy behind Moyuna asked, puzzled, for he hadn’t felt any strange force and couldn’t understand why the gangsters had cried “Mama” as they ran.

“I am not!”

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Moyuna didn’t return to her little cottage until the sun had set. The day’s experiences left her in high spirits, though they’d come at a price—she’d worked up quite a sweat chasing people, and a tumble on the ground had dirtied her long dress.

“Ruby? Ruby?” Moyuna called, but there was no sign of her. Her gaze fell on the table, where a slice of cake covered in cream sat on a plate. The tang of cherries, the sweetness of cream, a faint hint of liqueur—just as the books had described. The scent alone made Moyuna’s mouth water, but she didn’t indulge right away. Instead, she picked up the plate and glanced at the note tucked beneath it.

It was in Ruby’s hand, bearing just three simple words: “You’ve worked hard.”

“Pfft, how insincere,” Moyuna grumbled softly toward the entrance to the basement. Yet with those words and the cake, today’s strange adventure felt entirely worthwhile.