Maybe too many special agents had been lost.
Or maybe it was because the Witch had shot down a helicopter.
Yukieda didn’t know what criteria Mr. Kenji used.
Either way—it was her turn.
Just ahead of the cheap apartment building lay an empty lot. No streetlights, yet blazing bright.
Helicopters circled overhead, searchlights carving clarity from the dark for Yukieda.
She saw stacked concrete pipes, a patch of sand, a simple slide and swing set.
And Borel.
Perched on the swing, swaying gently.
Utterly composed, a faint, ambiguous smile on her lips.
Bullets struck around her like stones dropped in water—ripple after ripple.
The whip in her hand pulsed with pitch-black energy. *That* was what had yanked the chopper from the sky.
Wind howled across the field.
Unlike Yukieda, Borel’s hair stayed perfectly still—frozen, unmoving.
Yukieda descended slowly before her. Gunfire ceased in an instant.
“Good evening.”
Yukieda greeted the Witch. Borel scoffed, leaped up, and charged.
They clashed.
Just as Kenji predicted: after endless resources spent, the Witch’s magic had waned. Even Yukieda could match her.
Yet weakened as she was, Borel fought fiercely.
Their battle was beyond mortal reach. Perimeter units fell back to avoid the fallout.
The ground trembled. Buildings crumbled like paper.
For soldiers witnessing supernatural combat for the first time—it was awe and terror.
Their only role: deny Borel breath. The moment she broke from the Magical Girl, bullets rained down.
Seemingly trivial—but it worked. Borel, enraged, abandoned Yukieda.
She channeled magic into her whip and slashed toward a building—a scythe of shadow.
Muzzle flashes bloomed across the rooftop. Yukieda couldn’t count them—dozens, at least.
Her golden eyes tracked the strike. Instinct screamed: *Block it!*
As if reading her mind—
“Don’t go!” Kenji’s roar crackled through the radio.
In that split-second hesitation, the rooftop cratered. The firing position fell silent.
Radio static. Then silence. Everyone knew—the squad was gone.
Another sacrifice tonight.
“Don’t let their deaths be in vain,” Kenji said, calm.
Open channel. No one knew who he meant.
No time for grief. Yukieda seized the opening.
Magic surged. A slender projectile tore through the night.
Before Borel could react—power bloomed behind her.
Before mourning could settle, the Witch plummeted like a fallen star.
Searchlights pivoted instantly. Cheers erupted over comms.
“Did we get her?”
Doubt flickered in countless minds.
Yukieda remembered her training: Witches weren’t human. To destroy one, shatter the magic core—hidden, shielded.
Had her shot pierced it? She wasn’t sure.
Fatigue tugged at her. She landed softly. A trace of dust settled on her leather shoes.
She moved to check—
“No, Squirrel. Hold position.”
*Squirrel*—her callsign.
“Roger.”
She steadied her breath.
“Sixth Squad—move in.”
“Yes, sir!”
From the shadows, a tactics team advanced: submachine guns raised, movements sharp.
Yukieda planted her pistol like a cane. *Too many dead. Just end it.*
A glow caught her eye—a vending machine, still standing.
She punched the glass. *Everything’s wrecked anyway…*
*Pop.* She pulled the tab.
Switched channels. Private line.
“Hey, Mai. Where are you?”
“Command vehicle. With Mr. Kenji. You okay?”
Hearing Mai’s voice brought unexpected calm.
“Oh, I’m fine. Hey… drinks again in a few days?”
Flustered rustling on the other end.
—
Borel lay in rubble, agony sharp.
Her magic felt hollow—even after days of rest.
She tried to lift an arm. No strength.
*He never understood. Human food barely helped. Just thought “delicious” was enough.*
How had she been found? She’d been certain she’d vanished.
*That day…*
A strange man at her door. Sweet-scented mist sprayed in her face.
Then—she tore him apart.
She’d cleaned thoroughly. Even Yatani noticed nothing.
No matter now. Footsteps closed in.
*Captured alive?*
Once human. Once a Magical Girl. She knew the fate.
*If only Yatani were my partner…*
He coveted her body—yes. But his feelings weren’t fake.
Their time together… hadn’t been bad.
*Heh.*
Marriage? If he knew her past… would he still ask?
Her gaze drifted to the cheap apartment—untouched. She’d spared it.
*Envious.*
*So envious.*
This white-clad Magical Girl. Mai.
Cherished by so many.
“Are you okay?!”
Borel turned. Yatani.
Clothes torn. Face swollen. Blood seeped from rebar wounds.
She couldn’t meet his eyes.
*In this form… I’m not sweet. I’m terrifying.*
“Get away!”
“Not now! I know—you need magic! Willingly given!”
He gripped her cold face. Pitch-black pupils, unreadable.
“Hurry! Absorb it! What do I do?”
She stayed silent as he shook her.
“Hurry!”
Flashlights danced closer. Muffled voices behind masks.
“But… you’ll become a monster.”
“I know! So what!”
—
One second, Yukieda watched with faint amusement.
The next—a chill shot down her spine.
Malice and magic erupted skyward.
Her body locked tight. The half-empty can crumpled in her fist.
She looked.
BOOM!
Agents flew apart like shattered Lego. Debris rained—concrete chunks clattering even against helicopter hulls.
Smoke outlined the shockwave.
*What…?*
Borel reappeared—seated on a giant’s shoulder. A Demon’s shoulder.
Dread seized everyone.
No holding back now. Triggers squeezed dry.
Useless.
The Demon blocked every shot.
A knight guarding his princess.
It raised rubble.
*Whoosh—*
A fireball bloomed. A helicopter exploded midair.
“Pull up! Pull up!” screamed the other pilot.
Yukieda went to sip—then saw the crushed can. Tossed it.
A wry chuckle.
“Huh. Feels like I’m the villain now… even though we all came with the same resolve.”
“I’ll kill you!”
Borel’s ambiguous smile was gone. Deadly focus returned.
Her whip slammed down—magic roaring. Shattered the vending machine behind Yukieda. Gouged the earth. Flipped parked cars like toys.
Yukieda glanced back, chest heaving.
In the command vehicle, Kenji’s face was stone. Paler than Yukieda’s.
Beyond prediction.
This Demon hadn’t just restored the Witch—it armed her anew.
Radios flooded with frantic calls: *“Command! Orders!”*
“The next move?”
Kenji clenched his fist.
