The Bedridden Advisor

(Sun Yao)

Ziye’s analysis of my magic’s principles was spot on. It didn’t sound like someone who always claimed to have no interest in magical girls; he seemed to understand the mechanics of magic better than most. I almost wondered if he was secretly working behind the scenes as a magical girl’s support staff.

“So tell me, what exactly is my magic?”

If my magic wasn’t simply blowing bubbles, what was it? To my pressing question, Ziye just shrugged helplessly.

“Idiot, if even you don’t know, how can I figure it out? Magic can’t be explained by science. But trust me, in real combat, you’ll discover something and expand its applications. But right now, you need to think about how to fight with what you have.”

He sounded like he’d been through this before.

“You’re right…” I put down my Switch and picked up my wand to dispel the mana membrane around Ziye. “For now, I can only think of using it as a defensive measure, and it’s not even very sturdy.”

The bubbles I created were soft and had no offensive power. What Ziye mentioned—expanding a bubble inside a monster’s body—might not even be possible. Even if it worked, it likely wouldn’t cause much damage. There was no way I could just wrap a bubble around a monster’s head and perform a clean decapitation…

If reality were a game, I’d be a pure support character. Could this kind of magic really protect this area in Yang Yan’s place? I couldn’t just trap a monster and wait for Miluno to rescue me every time, could I?

Moreover, those External Invaders were killing machines. They generally had the ability to break through physical barriers. If I kept spamming bubbles, I might be the one to run out of mana first.

I couldn’t come up with an answer. I grabbed my long hair, which was tickling my neck, then leaned over the edge of the bed and peered down at my best friend on the air mattress. “Ziye, keep thinking for me, please.”

“I am thinking, aren’t I? We can see inside the bubbles, which means not just air but light can enter. Otherwise, the bubbles would look as dark as a phase wormhole. Light and air—what do they have in common?”

Light and air. Both were easy to overlook, yet omnipresent.

“Is it because my subconscious thinks they should pass through, so the bubble lets them? If I think something should get in, it does?”

“The membrane itself might not block those elements naturally. I can only give you ideas; you’re the only one who knows for sure. After all, I’m no magical girl. Anyway, it’s late. Get some sleep.” As he spoke, Ziye yawned and lay back. “Since a monster already appeared during the day, there won’t be one at ni—”

[Good evening, citizens! Sorry to disturb your sleep! The airship has detected an opening phase wormhole, expected to fully expand in eight minutes. Please evacuate in an orderly fashion in sectors C3 and D3. I repeat…]

The announcer’s voice was different from the daytime broadcast, but the message was the same.

“Z-Ziye! I…”

I hadn’t expected real combat to come so quickly. Although I’d instinctively changed into my battle suit, the thought of facing a monster with such “powerless” bubbles made my heart hammer against my ribs.

Ziye, who had just lain down, sat up with a grim face. “Seriously? Two monsters in one day? Idiot, you’re still going, right? Be careful. Nighttime is Miluno’s active period. Just stall the monster. I’ll go take shelter for now.”

“Mm!”

Ziye headed for the elevator to the shelter. Every residential building had underground shelter facilities. Even if people didn’t evacuate the entire D3 sector, staying away from the phase wormhole’s blockade zone was usually enough.

Thanks to the efforts of the Association and the magical girls, the probability of an invader breaking through a blockade was less than ten percent. Even if they succeeded, magical girls from other sectors would rush in to provide support. The frequent casualties of the past were history; now, the worst injuries were usually suffered by the magical girls themselves.

I left the apartment building and looked up to find the holographic marker left by the reconnaissance airship. Then I checked the distance displayed on the street interface.

“1600… 1.6 kilometers? I’ll have to run!”

The location was near the northern C3 sector—a bit far, but manageable. Even the weakest magical girl had physical capabilities far beyond human limits. I could now run at 17 m/s—that was the figure from this afternoon’s fitness test. It wasn’t “fast” by magical girl standards, though. Someone like Miluno could probably run several times that speed.

In about two minutes, I had crossed the police cordon and reached the marker: the rooftop of a thirteen-story building. The blue ring of the wormhole shone with an eerie light in the night sky, looking extremely conspicuous against the dark.

I stood atop the central air conditioning unit of the building. A six-rotor drone flew in front of me, its camera array aiming directly at my face. A mechanical arm under the drone held a headset-style communicator.

I took it and fitted it to my left ear. The earpiece had a structure like an expansion bolt, fixing itself firmly inside my ear canal. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was a necessary precaution to prevent it from falling out during combat.

“Hey, can you hear me, Sailuno?”

A familiar yet slightly different voice came through the headset.

“Uh… Sister Wei?”

“Actually, I’m Yin Lu. The one who met you earlier today was my younger sister, Yin Wei. If you don’t mind, you can call me Lu’er.”

Their voices were incredibly similar. However, the younger sister, Yin Wei, had sounded a bit more formal.

“Could it be that Sister Lu’er is my tactical officer?”

To improve combat efficiency, magical girls were often paired with one or more tactical advisors. Using their knowledge and remote data, they would propose strategies for defeating monsters. As a magical girl enthusiast, working for the Association was a dream, but becoming a tactical advisor was a lifelong wish.

But now, I had surpassed even my wildest imagination and become a magical girl myself. Often, these tactical officers were former magical girls—my seniors.

However, Sister Lu’er denied my guess. “No, I’m just a liaison. Your current combat advisor is not an Association officer, but Miss Yang Yan, who is currently bedridden due to… well, an incident.”

“Huh? Is Miss Yang Yan going to ‘graduate’?”

Stopping magical girl activities was called “graduation” among enthusiasts. If Miss Yang Yan really had to graduate because of this afternoon’s incident, I would never be able to forgive myself.

“No, no. It’s just that she can’t get out of bed for a month and can’t do strenuous activity for three. She wants something to do. When she heard there was a newcomer filling her spot, she volunteered to be your mentor.”

“…A combat advisor lying in a hospital bed?”

“Mm. Don’t worry; as long as her head is clear, she’ll be a great guide. I’m going to transfer the call to her now. But let me warn you first… we haven’t told her about your real identity yet.”

“…”

That meant Miss Yang Yan was mentoring me without knowing who I really was. If she found out I was the “fat otaku” who put her in the hospital, what would she think of me? Would she still be willing to help?

“As for whether to tell her, when, and how… the Association believes that decision should be left to you.”

“…I understand.”

Whoosh—

The wormhole opened.