Chapter 31: First Skirmish and Sophistry

In reality, Magical Girl Black's almost godlike method of finding Espers by radiating her power across the entire city was not nearly precise enough to determine the specific form or nature of their energy. So how, then, did she so quickly, so decisively find her target?

Simple. She had simultaneously captured the energy signatures of several individuals who were, at that very moment, actively, and with a great deal of haste, moving away from her scan.

A normal, law-abiding Esper, knowing she was conducting a wide-area, probably officially-sanctioned search, would have absolutely no reason to flee. Clearly, anyone who ran was someone with a deeply guilty conscience. As for why their consciences were so guilty, what exactly they were planning to do, what they were so desperately afraid of… Black couldn't say for sure. But, well—it was what it was. A lead was a lead.

And so, she had simply increased the power output of her scan in those specific directions and had, as expected, immediately felt a different, more potent kind of feedback.

When she arrived on the scene, she found a single, still-smoldering wooden puppet. “I see. So this is the form the fiend ‘The Puppeteer’ usually uses to show his face in public? As expected of a pathetic rat from the gutter, not even daring to appear before me directly. Hmph. This is going to make finding the real person quite troublesome. Will there be any clues, I wonder?”

She cautiously approached the puppet. In that single, solitary instant, the still-burning effigy, with a speed that was almost impossible, attacked her. With a blur of motion, the puppet swung its flaming, charred arms, launching a surprisingly vicious assault on Black.

Black, with a bored, contemptuous ease, dodged the clumsy attack, then condensed a tiny sliver of pitch-black energy at her fingertip and, with a light, casual flick, blew the puppet's head clean off its wooden shoulders. The puppet’s headless body was sent flying backwards with the force of the blow.

However, the very next moment, the headless, still-burning puppet, with an unnatural, jerky motion, charged at Magical Girl Black once again.

Black, with a sigh of profound annoyance, simply took to the sky, hovering just out of its reach.

So you’re watching me from somewhere, are you? she thought, her eyes scanning the surrounding area. The puppet itself should just be an ordinary, if slightly enchanted, puppet. Its physical form doesn't seem to affect its master's ability to manipulate it from a distance. She once again began to radiate her magical power outwards, this time in a more focused, concentrated pulse. The opponent's power couldn't possibly be infinite; their Esper ability couldn't be so ridiculously strong as to be completely unbeatable. So, to manipulate the puppet with such precision, the user had to be within a certain, limited range. And to launch such an accurate, targeted attack against her, the user had to be able to see her. They had to have eyes on the target.

So how are they doing it? A surveillance camera?

That hacker, Shadow Walker… did they actually manage to capture him…? Or did he get away? Black wasn't sure, but just in case, she condensed her dark energy and, with a wave of her hand, shrouded all the nearby surveillance cameras in a thick, impenetrable veil of darkness. Then, she landed back on the ground. The very moment she touched down, the wooden man, as if on cue, once again, and with a renewed, mindless aggression, charged at her.

Black frowned, a look of genuine irritation on her face.

Is it a bird, then? An insect? Or even, perhaps, a plant… It’s also entirely possible the opponent is just, from a very great distance, peeking at my movements through something as mundane as a high-powered telescope. How annoying.

With a final, exasperated sigh, she dismantled the puppet, piece by piece, joint by joint. However, the individual, disconnected pieces were still, grotesquely, moving, still twitching on the ground.

“So the key really is the invisible ‘strings,’ isn’t it?” Black murmured to herself. She then used her own pitch-black energy to directly envelop each of the twitching joints. And then, at long last, the pieces finally fell still. “Some kind of unobservable, psychic energy that directly manipulates the object itself, but which can be isolated, can be nullified by my own energy. So, mastering a domain is the right call after all. If I can fill an entire, designated space with my own energy, I can completely nullify The Puppeteer’s insidious power and prevent a large-scale, mass-casualty disaster. It seems the Darkmoon Queen, for all her faults, wasn't lying about that part, at least.”

Magical Girl Black, with a thoughtful expression, returned with the now-inert puppet’s joints. She found Ren and told him, in a concise, no-nonsense manner, about her brief, and frankly quite annoying, skirmish with the puppet.

Ren’s expression was incredibly grave. “It really is a terrifyingly dangerous ability. It’s not at all impossible that a seasoned investigator could get caught off guard and taken out by it. From the looks of it, even if you manage to defeat someone who looks like The Puppeteer, it’s entirely possible that it’s just another one of his puppets. And from a criminal, psychological standpoint, it’s highly probable that he can directly manipulate human beings as well. At that time, if he were to use innocent people to fight you, it would be an incredibly troublesome, and morally compromising, situation. And we still don’t know to what extent your own domain would be able to block his power. This guy… this guy is a little too tricky, a little too dangerous.”

Black sat down casually to the side, a frustrated look on her face. “Tell me about it. This guy is a real, royal pain in the ass to deal with~ If only my own power could get just a little bit stronger…”

“…Miss Black,” Ren said suddenly, his tone now serious, almost somber, “I think we need to have a proper, and perhaps long overdue, talk.”

Black blinked her big, innocent-looking eyes. “A proper talk? Specifically, my dear Supporter, what are we talking about?”

“About the… ah… the rather complicated matter between the two of us.” Ren had been thinking it over and over and over again. He still felt, with a certainty that was like a stone in his gut, that something wasn't right. Something was fundamentally, dangerously wrong. Of course, he’d already, and with no small amount of internal screaming, kissed her. So to say now that something was wrong, well, it might make him seem like the kind of absolute, irredeemable scumbag who pulls up his pants and pretends nothing ever happened. But then again, he reasoned, clarifying things now, however awkward, was to prevent a situation where he truly, genuinely did have to act like that kind of scumbag later on. Some painful, difficult things, he knew, were better said early, rather than at the last, desperate moment. The trouble, the fallout, that would cause would only be infinitely greater than he could possibly imagine.

Seeing Ren’s solemn, almost funereal gaze, Black couldn’t help but become serious as well. “I know what you’re going to say, kid.”

“So you still haven’t changed back into Kenji Tanaka. You’re not planning to, are you?”

“That’s right.” The Magical Girl Black of before couldn't have answered this difficult question so frankly, so honestly. But now, after everything, she could. “I have no intention of changing back. Not ever. I’ve already expressed my will, my desire. And thanks to you, you little brat, I can now face my own desires honestly. I have absolutely no reason to change back… Besides,” she added, a sly, almost coquettish glint in her eye, “if my energy ever happens to run a little low, well, I have a rather convenient, and surprisingly effective, means of… recovery… right here, don’t I?”

“Don’t you think,” Ren asked, his voice dangerously quiet, “that that’s a completely and profoundly shameless thing to do?”

Black waved her hand dismissively, a gesture of pure, unadulterated nonchalance. “Oh, please, kid, I know what you’re going to say. During my time as a magical girl, I’ve also, in my considerable spare time, been diligently catching up on a lot of classic, and not-so-classic, fictional works about magical girls. And in fact, the so-called ‘mana transfer’ setting, as I’m sure you’re aware, existed long, long before real magical girls ever even truly did, right? For a… creature… like a magical girl, a being who relies on such abstract concepts as love, and justice, and hope to gain their incredible power, isn’t it only natural to do such a thing? I’ve seen a great many related works that are even, you know, R-18. And I’m sure you’ve probably seen them too, right, Ren-kun?”

“…” That, he had to admit, was something he really couldn't deny. Damn it.

“You see,” Black continued, now fully in her element, her voice that of a seasoned, almost academic debater, “in reality, even among the fiends, there are types like Quivering Tentacles, Silver Drill, and Maiden Bandage, who all give off the distinct, palpable feeling that if you were ever defeated by them, you’d be… played with… until you got pregnant and unlocked a new, and probably very lewd, posture. And there are definitely people, lots of people, who like that kind of story development, right?” Black analyzed the related, and frankly quite disturbing, issues with a cold, detached rationality. “From this perspective, doing this kind of thing with you is much, much better, much more wholesome, than that kind of situation, isn’t it? In your typical NTR works, it’s almost always because the weak, indecisive male protagonist is unwilling, or unable, to act, that the handsome, charming ‘yellow-haired bastard’ or the powerful, charismatic villain gets the prize in the end. Or it’s because the male protagonist’s own… ah… ability… is sadly, tragically lacking…” Black’s gaze then, with a shocking, clinical deliberateness, fell on a rather impolite, and currently very tense, area of Ren’s anatomy. “But you, my dear Ren-kun… you have plenty of… capital… in that department, don’t you?”

How should one put it? Should one say, as expected of a true, jaded adult? To be able to talk about such a taboo, and frankly quite embarrassing topic, without even the slightest hint of a blush. The shy, blushing young girl on the bed from the other night seemed like a complete illusion now. If she had been this composed, this aggressive back then, he would have undoubtedly been the one in a very, very difficult… and probably quite enjoyable, position. So, this person… she was actually, deep down, just a stubborn, argumentative old man. She acts tough, but when you get real with her, she becomes shy and flustered. But her trash-talking, her verbal skills, they were undefeated. One could only say, with a sigh of weary admiration, that it fit the established persona of Magical Girl Black perfectly.

“Is this really, truly the problem we should be discussing right now, Miss Black?” Ren said, his voice strained, trying desperately to steer the conversation back to safer, less hormonal waters. “I think we have far, far more important things to talk about. This is about whether I’m being fair to Hana, and whether you’re being fair to your own daughter. And not just about your convenient, if somewhat questionable, ‘training’ methods, or what have you.”

Black looked at Ren with a helpless, almost exasperated expression. “I’ve already told you, kid. My relationship with you is just for ‘mana transfer.’ A purely professional, mutually beneficial arrangement. It’s only natural that you love my daughter. You’re going to marry my daughter in the future. That fundamental fact will not change. And I will not, under any circumstances, interfere with you two. Just think of this as a little, harmless secret between us. So why are you so damn guilty about it? A good Supporter should, in fact, be willing to fulfill this kind of important duty, shouldn’t they? Or would you rather I be defeated by the next fiend we face? Is that what you want?”

This, of course, was Magical Girl Black’s signature, and frankly quite brilliant, brand of sophistry.

“Alright then. Fine. Since you put it that way,” Ren said suddenly, his expression now hard as steel, “I’ll go and tell Hana everything right now. If you really, truly feel that you have a clear, untroubled conscience, Miss Black, then I’m sure that Hana, being the understanding girl she is, will also be able to handle it with composure. She will definitely understand the difficult, and very intimate, position we’re in.” Ren then, with a decisive motion, stood up, looking for all the world as if he were about to march out of the organization’s building that very second.

“WAIT! NO, NO, NO, DON’T!”

Black, in a flash of pure, unadulterated panic, immediately appeared in front of Ren, grabbing his sleeve with a desperate, pathetic look on her face. “How can you possibly tell Hana about this kind of thing?! You know that child, she’s very, very fragile! If she found out about something like this, she’d probably, most definitely go into a dark, irreversible spiral of despair! She’d be traumatized for life!”

Ren just smiled, a cold, triumphant, and almost cruel smile. “So, Miss Black, you don’t even dare to tell your own daughter about this, and yet you have the gall to say that this is something you don’t care about? You say that this is something that’s only natural, only right and proper? We are, without a single shadow of a doubt, walking down the wrong, the very, very wrong path here. That much is certain. And knowing that we are wrong… are we still going to continue down it?”

The man named Ren Akiyama was truly, unbelievably outstanding. He didn’t possess any great, world-altering power of his own—the power that Lapis Lazuli had so tantalizingly hinted that he might have had not yet, to his knowledge, manifested in his body. But he did possess a firm, unshakeable, almost sacred conviction in his own beliefs. This was also something that Black greatly, if grudgingly, admired about him. If it were someone she disliked, she would definitely not be doing this kind of profoundly, hilariously immoral thing with them in the first place.

But it was precisely because of this, because of his respect for Ren…

Black decided to have a direct, final confrontation with Ren, to let him see, once and for all, the true, cynical methods of a jaded, world-weary adult. She sighed, a long, heavy sound, a look of profound, worldly seen-it-all weariness on her pretty, youthful face. “Ah, Ren, my dear, naive boy. That way of thinking of yours… it’s so tragically, so beautifully wrong! This world… this world is not nearly as simple as you seem to imagine it to be, all black and white, all good and evil! Not all things in this life are ‘correct,’ and not all things are ‘wrong.’ What we are doing now, what we have done, you, in your youthful idealism, you think it’s ‘wrong.’ But we can also, through this very same ‘wrong’ act, gain the power to fight against the fiends, to protect the innocent. Isn’t that, in its own way, a ‘good’ thing? From that perspective, this should be considered a necessary, if unpleasant, sacrifice that we are making for the sake of justice. It is not pure, it is not flawless, it is not clean. It possesses a certain… stain… a certain beautiful ugliness… But there is no truly, perfectly perfect thing in this entire, imperfect world.”

To be perfectly honest, Black didn’t really, truly want to argue, to debate philosophy with Ren. After all, this man, this boy, was also very, very good at arguing. But now, she had to. She had no other choice. If she really let him run off and tell her daughter everything, then her own position, her entire, fragile world…

“Why was I, of all people, able to resist Crystal’s ancient, powerful hatred?” she asked, her voice now a low, almost hypnotic whisper. “It is because I, Kenji Tanaka, already know that there are so many, many meaningless things in this world. The world is not kind, not at all. But it is not so tragic either. Accidents, they are unavoidable. And human strength, our power to change things, is extremely, laughably limited—we are not, none of us, omnipotent. There are so many, many things in this life that we simply have to… accept. And I… I have merely… accepted it. Tell me, Ren Akiyama,” she asked, her gaze now piercing, “are you, in your heart of hearts, unwilling to make a similar sacrifice to protect this imperfect, and often quite ugly, world?”

If the fiends who had been so brutally, so unceremoniously obliterated by Magical Girl Black were here right now, they would surely, and with great, righteous indignation, be loudly, vehemently refuting her words. After all, if Magical Girl Black truly thought this way, if she truly believed in acceptance and the futility of it all, they wouldn’t have been so completely, and with such extreme prejudice, obliterated in the first place.

But alas, and with a certain profound irony, the fiends who held any such doubts or disagreements about this particular philosophy had already, one and all, been thoroughly, and with no small amount of sadistic glee, obliterated.