Chapter 52: The Heat of Change and Sweet Potato Delights

The voice of the minister, low and crawling through the smartphone, rose in pitch.

“So, it’s not every day… only on Wednesdays and Saturdays, after school, I’ll prepare slowly at home and then head to the fire station or a nearby police station.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I had never said I was okay with it, but the discussion was moving rapidly forward in places I didn’t even know about.

With the emerging permanent teeth, I swore sharply, my pronunciation finally clear and firm.

First, they told me to just deal with monster hunting, and now they’re asking me to catch criminals and put out fires.

Are they messing with me?

“Why, isn’t it a break period when monsters aren’t coming out?”

“Are you suggesting we fire the server management team just because the server’s working fine?”

What kind of ceasefire is this? Are they saying they want to pull all the soldiers from the front lines?

The absurd statements continued, and even with the air conditioner on, I could feel heat spreading through my body. I rubbed my forehead, lifting my hair.

“No, that’s different…”

“How is it different? You’re saying there’s no monster, so we’re going to disband the monster response team.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re saying it’s a waste since no monsters are showing up…”

“Politicians don’t do any work, just fight over sides, and when they raise their own salaries, they unite as one, that’s a waste, right?”

The argument continued with no room for compromise.

If you give in once, it only keeps escalating.

This isn’t just my problem—it’s a matter that could affect all magical girls in the world.

Of course, it will start with the police and fire departments, which seem relatively important at first.

But if they slowly start accepting these kinds of things, they’ll expand the scope, mentioning things like unreplaceable abilities, and so on.

Accepting this suggestion would be like saying I’m ready to be a mere errand boy.

Why isn’t this just my problem?

Once you accept it, when other magical girls are approached with the same suggestion, it’ll become an excuse like, “Well, so-and-so did it.”

It’s only a matter of time before all magical girls are treated as guards for politicians or become toys when there are no monsters.

Such absurd suggestions should be ignored cleanly.

“Cut the salaries of the congressmen, hire more people, but that’s not a magical girl’s job.”
“Ssun! Wait a minute…”

The minister’s voice desperately cut off as I firmly ended the conversation.

Given the situation, it seemed like I was the only one he had contacted.

Of course, that makes sense, since the area with a zero monster appearance rate is currently Incheon.

It’s ironic that a place called the Demon Realm has zero monster appearances.

“Hey, Bear.”

“Yes?”

Among the mascots, the ones enjoying the comfort of the cushions and blankets, I called over the bear. I gestured with my finger, signaling for it to come closer.

Before the others could get involved in this mess, I decided to take action.

The bear, flying over with a puzzled expression, landed beside me. I lay on my side on the bed, propping my chin on my hand, and spoke.

“Spread the word to the other mascots. If you hear any nonsense about the police or fire stations needing help, ignore it completely.”

“Yes? What’s this about the police and fire stations? I’ll make sure to let everyone know.”

“This isn’t just a matter of one person offering help out of goodwill. Once one person starts doing it, others will feel compelled to do the same.”

“Make sure to add it.” “Yes, yes, I’ll do it right away.”

Right after the magical girl’s support for the fire station and police station ended as a simple incident, the school held a sports festival, right after the few days of the monsoon rain had passed.

Although the rain had stopped, the season was still in the midst of summer. This meant it was a perfect day for someone to collapse from the heat.

“It’s so hot…”
“Here’s some ice water.”

Me and Siyeon, sitting together, were a little less affected compared to the other kids who were with their parents, but still it was a somewhat warm scene.

These days, elementary school sports festivals don’t divide the kids into red or blue teams, so there’s no need to stay together in the same class.

Without teams, there’s no score.

Yes, the elementary school sports festival has adopted a communist retreat meta.
Honestly, since there’s nothing to win, and no one will judge you if you can’t run well or get upset about losing, it’s a good change.

Since there’s no competition, there’s no real reason to participate in specific class events, and in the end, you could just sit and leave when it’s over.

The only complaint is that since the event is outdoors, there’s nowhere with air conditioning to cool off.

At the approaching lunch time, I check my phone a little earlier than planned. On days like these, there are always a couple of adults thinking about ordering food, so I should call ahead to make sure we can eat and rest on time.

“Siyeon, what do you want to eat?”

“Hmm…tonkatsu!”

“Tonkatsu, huh…”

Siyeon’s choice was tonkatsu. Recently, since she had her front teeth pulled, she couldn’t eat hard food, so now that her permanent teeth were starting to grow in, I was also in the mood for something fried.

However, surprisingly, I was looking for a Chinese restaurant.

I thought that this was a contradiction, but since most Chinese restaurants these days also have tonkatsu, I decided to go with that.

If there’s one thing known for quick delivery, it’s Chinese food.
On a day like today, when orders pile up, it’s on days like the sports festival.

So, I figured no matter which place we ordered from, it would be hard to get it on time, and that’s why I chose a Chinese restaurant.

Instead of using the delivery app, I called directly, finding the number for an open restaurant nearby.

“Hello, is this XX restaurant? I’d like to order two old-fashioned tonkatsus and one serving of dumplings to the back gate of OO Elementary School.”

“Yes, two old-fashioned tonkatsus and one serving of dumplings…remember the number 21. Would you like the tonkatsu cut?”

“Please cut it.”

Just like that.

Since it was a restaurant near the school, they seemed to have heard about the sports festival, so they even gave me the number to remember.

This was possible because I was ordering by phone.

It might sound strange to order tonkatsu and dumplings from a Chinese restaurant, but since my permanent teeth were still not fully grown, I couldn’t yet eat chewy noodles.

“Let’s go ahead over there.”

Holding hands with Siyeon, we walked around the side of the playground. We sat down on the grass, right behind the back gate, spreading a mat, waiting for the food delivery that would arrive right at lunchtime.

Following the foresight of our parents, the delivery people began to arrive one by one shortly after lunch started.

“Order 21!”

In the mix of them, our delivery person arrived. Since Chinese restaurants usually don’t use app-supported riders but their own delivery staff, they showed professionalism amid the chaos.

While other delivery people were scrambling, our delivery person arrived smoothly.

Remembering the order number, I raised my hand and said,

“Here!”

“Ah, 25,000 won.”

“Thank you!”

From the silver delivery bag came a flat dish of tonkatsu. It wasn’t the usual round white rice with brown sauce of Western-style tonkatsu, but a small and cute Chinese-style fried rice with just a hint of black bean sauce.

The tonkatsu was topped with thick ketchup, showing the unique twist of Chinese restaurant tonkatsu.

The crispy coating seemed soggy from the ketchup and the small pieces of meat didn’t look very appetizing at first glance.

But it was only a visual impression.

Of course, the meat was coated in batter and topped with ketchup, so how could it taste bad?

The memories of the sports day?

It was a memory from a sports day with no competition or prize.

I didn’t care about that, but the Chinese restaurant tonkatsu was delicious.

After the sports day ended, the hot sun that had been so fierce began to fade, almost as if the summer heat had never existed.

Even though the seasons now seem to only alternate between summer and winter, a short autumn arrived quickly, just enough to make you turn off the air conditioner.

Once again, I fell victim to the curse of being the cleaning duty person, meaning a late return home, but without even dropping my bag, I found myself walking to the market with inexplicable sentiment.
“Oh, sweet potatoes.”

Normally, I would have stopped in front of a kimbap or snack shop, or one of the many fried food stalls.

I didn’t have a particular reason to go to the market, but strangely, my feet stopped in front of the sweet potato stall.

“One basket of sweet potatoes, please.”

It was as if I had been mesmerized, and I came home with a plastic bag full of sweet potatoes.

At home, there was the large air fryer I had bought recently, standing proudly in the kitchen.

I cleaned the dirt off the

sweet potatoes, dried them, and placed them in the air fryer, making sure they didn’t touch. I turned it on right away.

Siyeon, who had been on the computer in the other room, peeked out when she heard the air fryer running and asked,

“What are you doing?”

“Roasting sweet potatoes.”

It’s a special treat to have them like this in season.

Author’s note:

In our house, we don’t use an air fryer but rather a big smoker to cook the sweet potatoes. It’s surprisingly tasty.

See you next time!