Chapter 51: The Disappearance of Silence

“Thank you for your hard work.”

“Yes, sir.”

With a hearty exchange of farewells muffled by the crisp sound of rain, I left the police station.

Flying carefully so the umbrella wouldn’t bend, I repeatedly adjusted it to face the wind as I finally arrived at the rooftop of my apartment.

This time, I rarely de-transformed on my own apartment’s rooftop before heading down.

I usually switch forms at various locations to make it harder to pinpoint where I live. But sometimes—just occasionally—it’s fine to de-transform close to home, especially on rainy days like this.

Honestly, on such days, even if it’s more than “occasionally,” I want to let my guard down near home.

“I’m back.”

The “s” sound in my speech vanished along with my transformation.

“Marie, the computer is down…”
“What?”

The sudden news of the computer’s demise greeted me the moment I stepped into the house. My surprised gasp escaped involuntarily.

What could have happened to our computer, which is less than a year old? I’d planned to keep it running for at least ten years.

Approaching the computer with that thought, I saw unfamiliar programs on the desktop that I hadn’t even installed.

Clicking on the internet browser opened three or four different websites at once.

Could this really happen after only a short period of neglect?

“Let me take a look…”

Realizing the computer’s state couldn’t be resolved with a quick glance, I made Siyon get up from the chair and sat down myself.

I immediately downloaded antivirus software and a forced file deletion program from the internet, went through the installation process, and created shortcuts on the desktop.

Just two seconds after the antivirus shortcut appeared on the desktop, it vanished with a “pop.”

Damn it.

Occasionally, you come across viruses like this—malicious ones that take control of the computer and automatically delete antivirus programs.

It’s been over a decade since I’ve encountered such a virus…

Next measure: the forced file deletion program.

Fortunately, this wasn’t classified as antivirus software, so it didn’t immediately get deleted upon installation.

Pressing Ctrl, Alt, Delete to open Task Manager, I scanned through all active processes.

I quickly skimmed past familiar programs and focused on any suspicious, icon-less processes that were blatantly suspicious—like random combinations of English letters.

Tracing the path of one of these suspicious processes, I opened the associated file location.

It was filled with shady applications in a directory that screamed, Deleting these shouldn’t cause any issues.

“Alright, let’s…”

Just as I was about to delete the most problematic-looking file using the forced deletion program:

[Your PC ran into a problem and needs to restart. We’re collecting some error info, and then we’ll restart for you. (0% complete)]

“Wow, are you kidding me…?”

The computer displayed a blue screen the moment I issued the delete command.

When the computer restarted, the malicious program was still there.

This meant the virus had already seriously infested the system.

At this point, trying to resolve the issue with standard software was futile.

The virus triggered a system-level issue whenever deletion was attempted, causing the crash.

In such cases, instead of forcing a fix, the best solution is to wipe everything clean and start fresh.

“Looks like I’ll have to head out again…”

“Don’t touch the computer, just wait and trust me.”
“Okay…”

Picking up the umbrella that was still dripping water, I made my way to Daiso.

I didn’t plan to scold Siyon too much.
This sort of thing happens to anyone who’s inexperienced with computers.
Still, from now on, she’ll need to at least ask for permission before installing anything.

The first rule to avoid computer viruses:
Whenever possible, stick to official websites.

This should be enough.

I arrived at Daiso, pushing through the heavy rain, and picked up a small USB drive about the size of my pinky finger, costing 5,000 won.

After quickly completing my purchase and leaving Daiso, I headed to a PC bang (internet cafe).

Technically, I could’ve done this at home, but creating a bootable USB on a virus-ridden computer felt too risky.

Whether as a member or not didn’t matter—I found an empty seat and began working on the computer.
Ignoring the odd stares that seemed to say, What’s a young girl doing here alone?, I finished what I came to do.

After paying for the time as a non-member, I left the PC bang and started heading home.

But when I got to the umbrella stand near the entrance, my umbrella, which should’ve been there, was nowhere to be seen.

I searched and searched again, thinking I might have missed it, but it was definitely gone.

Another thief.

“Ugh, damn it…”

Even without my front teeth, I spat out a curse with the strength of my molars, kicking the innocent umbrella stand for no reason.

I’d thought, Who would bother taking a kid’s umbrella?, and let my guard down, only to get burned.

You bastard…

I cursed whoever took my umbrella, wishing they’d get struck by lightning on the street, and returned home looking like a drowned rat.

Trying to shake off the irritation, I quickly rinsed off in the bathroom. Then, with my long hair still not fully dry, I sat down in front of the computer.

Plugging in the USB, I booted the computer slowly, pressing F2, F4, F8, F10, or whatever else worked.

Each computer has its own unique way to enter administrator mode, so I tried them all.

As I was doing this, I heard Siyon’s timid voice from beside the chair.

“Marie, I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. But next time, if you’re doing something other than watching videos, talk to me first, okay?”
“Okay…”

The administrator mode screen appeared, and I skillfully changed the boot order from prioritizing the hard drive to recognizing the USB first. After saving the settings, I restarted the computer.

When it powered back on, instead of the usual desktop, the formatting screen appeared.

I’d heard that nowadays, computers have built-in features for formatting.
But as an old-school person, I preferred the methods I was familiar with—ones ingrained in my muscle memory.

I deleted the entire drive containing the virus. With that, the virus didn’t stand a chance.

I allocated the now-empty storage space and began the installation process.

Now, all I had to do was wait patiently, and the formatting would be complete.

A fresh start for a clean, virus-free computer.

“Now we just wait.”

Even after the installation was finished, there would be a few miscellaneous things to take care of, so I didn’t head straight to bed.

Instead, I lay on the floor with my smartphone in hand.

A few days ago, the Monster Gallery, which had been relentlessly cursing us out, and the Magical Girl Gallery, which was abuzz with a press conference, had been all anyone could talk about.

Of course, it was only natural that they wouldn’t dwell on this topic forever. The conversation had long since shifted to something else.

Now, the topic of discussion in the Magical Girl Gallery was whether liking magical girls was a form of deviant sexuality or not.

Just hearing the topic made my head spin, and as soon as I visited the site, both sides were fiercely clashing.

[“Pedophile gallery level, f*ck (2)”]

[“Seriously, isn’t it fine as long as you love both forms?”]

[“It’s not that I loved her because she was a girl, but that I loved her and it turned out she was a girl (3)”]

[“But wouldn’t a magical girl who’s been active for 20 or 30 years be less of a ‘chick’ and more of a ‘hen’? Lol”]

[“Wow, what the hell is today’s debate? Absolutely disgusting (5)”]

[“Breaking news: Venus’s replacement announced (8)”]

“Ugh, disgusting.”

I had no interest in how the debate would conclude or how it was unfolding. I quickly hit the back button and fled the gallery.

Just as I did, the initial setup for the computer was finishing, so I stood up and sat back in my chair.

After a few reboots, a clean, enlarged desktop screen appeared.

I navigated to the simple driver installation files I had preloaded onto the USB and clicked through a few steps. Soon enough, the computer was functioning normally again, though far emptier than before.

Any video recommendations or search histories from my time as a non-member user were gone, but what did it matter?

It was resolved. That’s all that mattered.

“All done.”

With the computer virus chaos now behind us, the monsoon rains gradually subsided.

Meanwhile, at the police station where Sun handed over the flasher we caught earlier.

It’s a little-known fact, but there’s something called a police journalist. Since police stations are naturally hubs for major incidents and violent crimes, official reporters are stationed there.

News of a magical girl apprehending a pervert nearby wasn’t a huge scoop, but it was juicy enough to attract some attention.

[“Monsters gone, but perverts emerge… Immediate arrest of a ‘flasher.’ Unlucky encounter with…”]

[“‘Please spare me,’ says dazed flasher. What happened to him?”]

[“‘Not just elementary schoolers,’ flasher admits. Magical Girl Sun retorts, ‘That’s something to brag about, you piece of sh*t.’”]

[“Monsoon season begins, but the flasher caught is revealed to be a 20-something college student.”]

The problem wasn’t these articles themselves but the public opinion they stirred.

When you think about it, exterminating monsters is a task only magical girls can handle.

Why? Because without their overwhelming speed, strength, and mysterious magic, you’d need firepower capable of leveling an entire city just to take down some of these monsters.

This also means magical girls are proven to be stronger than most adult men.

So, what about the magical girls in regions where monsters no longer appear?

Wouldn’t it be more efficient to put their surplus strength to use by having them assist the police or fire departments?

What started as a lighthearted joke among citizens spiraled into serious political debate, thanks to desk-bound politicians who jumped on the bandwagon.

“What the f*ck are they even saying?”