The Strongest, but the Genre Is Magical Girl

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A few days after the incident at Siyeon’s lunchbox store takeover.

The magical girls, who had played to their heart’s content, were to bow three times in gratitude towards Korea.

…Or at least that was the thought that crossed my mind at that moment.

Just as I was having that incredible thought, it seemed that the Monkey Hand had unexpectedly heard it; magical girls were making headlines on the news channels for surprising developments.

The closed-off magical girl market in Korea aside, foreign news was buzzing.

Not about defeating Arctic monsters, but rather, it turned out they had conducted two intense patrols.

As they finished their tasks and enjoyed a satisfying icebreaker trip, magical girls from various countries were celebrating.

[Korean magical girls did an amazing job in the Arctic. Praise all around….]

[It’s better to embrace Korea’s ‘quick quick’ culture.]

[Thanks to her, the Arctic schedule became easier… An admirable senior crossing the border.]

Having gone from staring at white ice for sixteen days to suddenly enjoying a luxurious icebreaker trip to the North Pole must have brought them immense satisfaction.

Whether it was pure admiration or gratitude, there was a trend of mentioning Korea at least once in the interviews reflecting on the hunt for Arctic monsters.

“Mari is really popular.”

“…That’s a bit overwhelming.”

While watching those news segments, Siyeon casually dropped a comment while lying sideways on the sofa.

As the saying goes, it’s great that Korea’s reputation is spreading widely, but this peculiar situation was burdensome for the very parties involved.

With foreigners gushing about their national pride, the usually quiet domestic media started cautiously testing the waters, producing various articles praising magical girls.

In truth, they were just doing their job based on their profession; was it really necessary to elevate them to such heights?

Once such news came out, domestic communities couldn’t help themselves.

They were already digging up magical girls who didn’t have domestic activities on that day according to the Arctic schedule, and before long, they had all but pinpointed Magical Girl Sun.

Despite the insular domestic magical girl environment, the galleries were being flooded with praise posts about me.

There were even strange posts combining transformed faces, but they didn’t seem to carry any negative connotations, so I didn’t feel disturbed.

Passing through interviews filled with unfamiliar countries, it was soon America’s turn.

When it came to the Arctic monster hunt interview in the U.S., it was probably going to be Ms. Tiara.

With fluent English that showcased her mother tongue, she was saying, “The schedule in the Arctic was fantastic and only filled with delightful experiences, so I’m planning to go to Korea again.”

Wait, what? Korea again, you say?

I blinked, thinking I misread the subtitles, but they were written without a single mistake.

Narrowing my eyes at the sudden news, I couldn’t hold back and blurted out.

“Hey, why are you coming here again?”

“Why? Isn’t it nice to come to Korea?”

Tiara coming to Korea meant she might as well stop by my house.

Siyeon, who didn’t know who Tiara was, just casually said it’d be good to visit Korea without a second thought.

To help her realize who exactly I was talking about, I added a bit more context.

“…That person? The one who came over when we weren’t talking much?”

“Oh, that person is her?”

After explaining in detail once, Siyeon’s gaze returned to the TV.

“Oh, right! It’s Tiara! The American magical girl!”

Although she didn’t remember her face well, she recognized the name, her eyes widening with excitement.

While Siyeon might have been thrilled about the new encounter, it was a face I’d seen over and over again just a little while ago.

Far from being pleased or excited, the thought that I’d be drained trying to match Tiara’s energetic vibe crossed my mind.

Please, let it just be simple tourism.

But then again, they say ominous premonitions are never wrong.

Not long after, I found myself hesitating to press the green button on a phone call flashing across my smartphone screen.

Caller ID restricted.

In this day and age, even voice phishing isn’t used, that seven-character string.

“Should I pick this up or not…?”

“What’s wrong with the call?”

Gomteng, who was nosing around, threw in a question.

“If it’s caller ID restricted, what do you think it is?”

I replied coolly to his foolish question while staring intently at the smartphone screen.

Three vibrations followed.

Ah, to hell with it, if I don’t want to, I’ll just decline.

With the mindset that it would somehow work out as long as I didn’t drag any congressman I owed a favor like last year, I pushed the green phone button on the screen.

On the other side of the smartphone, the voice of the minister, who was now feeling quite familiar, came through.

“Is this Student Kim Mari?”

“Yes, what’s this call about?”

I had a vague idea of why they were calling, but I maintained an act of ignorance, pretending not to know anything.

However, what followed veered off in a surprising direction from my expectations.

“Well, it’s just that we heard you did tremendously during your Arctic business trip.”

“Huh?”

I naturally expected the talk about the American magical girl Tiara to begin, yet suddenly the minister was praising me for my results.

What’s this, was that why they were calling?

Now that I think about it, there was mention of incentives based on performance.

Whether I had completely forgotten or not, the voice on the other end continued.

“As a result of gathering opinions from various countries, it was unanimously decided that the contributions of Korea’s magical girls stood out the most, so a performance bonus will be awarded.”

Of course, based on results, I had claimed first place unanimously.

Then, the next topic should be about the performance bonus, but my expectations were low.

From the way “performance bonus” was phrased, it was all within the realm of our country.

Surely sending magical girls to the icebreaker at the North Pole cost quite a sum, so in that context, I thought it would only be a few hundred at most.

Rather than getting too excited about this extra cash, I asked in a subdued and indifferent tone.

“Oh, yes… how much is it?”

“After taxes, a total of 53,185,000 won will be paid.”

“Pardon?”

Did I mishear the amount? That seemed a bit on the high side for a mere worker’s incentive.

Startled by my unthinking response, the minister quickly continued.

“Considering the scale, you should be entitled to more, but since performance bonuses are awarded at the discretion of each country… I hope you understand that part.”

As if he thought my surprise was due to the amount being “too low,” the minister’s voice was filled with a misguided sense of consideration.

He seemed oblivious to the fact that I had such low expectations.

Well, there are prize pools in global competitions that reach incredible sums, so I suppose he might think this is too little…

I don’t really know; I wasn’t some athlete in my past life capable of winning on the world stage.

“Yes, understood.”

Anyhow, who would refuse free money coming in?

Hiding my inner excitement, I put on a face that matched the panic-induced explanation, making an effort to sound disappointed as I responded.

Just when I thought the conversation was wrapping up, there was more to it…

“Oh… by the way, I heard Miss Ann visited Miss Mari’s house last year.”

Just as I expected, there was indeed a main topic remaining.

Oh no, I should have hung up quickly.

The minister must have realized that her call was recorded, and finding myself in no position to lie, I simply replied in a straightforward manner.

“Yes, and?”

“Miss Ann expressed her desire to revisit this year; would you be willing to arrange a schedule with her…?”

“No.”

Since it was obvious that not answering would lead to another call, I clearly stated my intent and hung up.

Classes were about to resume soon; why would I want to be tied up in yet another schedule?

Sure, there was spring break, but I wanted enough time to relax at home without worries.

Once I firmly communicated my refusal, I checked my phone, and lo and behold, no return calls were coming in.

With the refreshing sensation of having gained freedom, I turned on my computer.

Having been deprived from using it for two weeks, I was rekindling my interest in computer games lately.

As I slaughtered users who were way below my skill level in a game that had fallen into disarray, I was deeply engrossed in relieving stress until a voice beckoned from beyond the door.

“Yes, I understand! Yes, ma’am!”

Siyeon’s voice, with the courtesy of using formal language, suggested she was on a call with someone.

It didn’t seem like she was talking with a friend; perhaps it was a call from a credit card or insurance company?

As I pondered who might be on the other end of the line, the door swung open, and Siyeon entered with a bright voice.

“We’re going sightseeing in the city with Ms. Tiara this weekend!”

‘…Ugh.’

With a deep sigh inwardly at Siyeon’s proud expression, it struck me.

Only then did I realize that the minister’s second call was directed at Siyeon, not me.

This felt like I had thrown out garbage only for it to be brought back inside.