Mr. Magical Girl

Chapter 109



Chapter: 109. Report (4)

“What’s the new thing you’ve learned about the disease?”

I started typing on the keyboard resting on my knees.

“Well, since Unho mentioned that someone’s will is embedded in it, I came up with a way to stop progress. However…”

As I paused due to the interruption from Oxymoron, the tap-tap of the keyboard also came to a halt.

“However?”

“It’s theoretical. To actually experiment, we need permission.”

Permission…

“Well, it’s a clinical trial, so we can’t just do it on our own. Should I get permission now?”

Just then, I noticed the green light flashing on the management association line, meaning Hyunseok was logged in.

That means I can fill out the official paperwork through the management messenger right now.

“Hmm. Please submit the application for now.”

“Got it.”

I opened the notarization window on the messenger that contained a summary of the current situation and a sentence requesting permission. Just as I was about to send it…

“Wait, before you send that.”

Oxymoron’s urgent words stopped me.

“Isn’t that public conversation for notarization?”

“True.”

Of course, I need to display a public conversation to get permission. Am I doing confidential work right now? Ah. It is confidential; some phrases will probably be treated as confidential.

Still, it’s not like any assassination or anything; it’s just going to be left as paper documents.

“Show me.”

“Here.”

I turned the monitor toward Oxymoron, who was sitting across from me.

The monitor probably didn’t expect to return, and Oxymoron froze partway up from leaning on the armrest of his chair.

Well, it’s possible since the monitor arm is installed, but is that standard in the management association’s administration department? The only place I’ve been is Hyunseok’s office, so…

While I was thinking briefly, Oxymoron seemed to snap back to reality and started reading the text displayed on the monitor.

“No curses, properly structured sentences, marked as confidential, didn’t call him ‘Hyunseok’ like a friend, kept the format…”

What does he think of me? No matter what, I never did anything like that in a public conversation…

Well, I probably have, now that I think back.

I recalled the instances where I often messed things up.

Thanks to that memory, I ended up producing a neat sentence this time, but…

“There’s no problem. I’m surprised. The guy who always messed up document work wrote this so neatly.”

Messed up?

I remembered several instances of past documents.

They were a disaster, even the table of contents was all over the place. If I were to write it now, I wouldn’t write it that way at all.

…About that incident, though.

Turning the monitor back towards me, I pressed enter and sent the message, then spoke to Oxymoron.

“Do you remember the incident a few days ago when I lost consciousness?”

“Of course, I remember. It’s about the patient.”

A patient.

That might really be what I am.

“Then let me ask you something. Is it theoretically possible to learn new skills due to hallucinations, memory manipulation, or mind magic?”

Usually, I wouldn’t care, but while working on paperwork like this, my inner memories resurface.

Just like other reported cases of multiple personality disorders, there’s no sign of devouring or trying to sleep on me, but there’s always that judgmental senior pointing out if this part is wrong.

“There is if it’s a multiple personality…”

Just as Oxymoron pointed out something similar.

“Purely for skills and memory.”

At those words, Oxymoron began to rotate the filter of the gas mask, contemplating.

“There was a discussion about transferring skills and memories through mental techniques… but…”

Spinning.

The gas mask’s purification filter went in and out, drawing attention.

As Oxymoron’s words trailed off and the purification filter finished its multiple rotations…

“It’s theoretically possible, but difficult.”

Click.

With the sound of the filter coming to a stop, Oxymoron concluded.

“Knowledge transfer through it was successful, but… that was the limit. Mastering the skills is… hard. I’m an example of not being able to properly utilize the ingrained knowledge.”

“Theoretically, you could simulate a life where you learn the skill, then imprint it, but doing that for individuals would require too much computation, and there’s a possibility of personality confusion…”

That dragged on too long.

“That’s enough. Let’s skip the technical talk.”

This was definitely not a normal problem.

After letting out a sigh, I resumed tapping on the keyboard resting on my knees.

…Could it be that you’re experiencing such a problem right now?

Tap-tap.

My fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, much faster than back in the day. And then, consciousness began to split into two.

Writing the report and…

Talking with Oxymoron.

“Yeah. For some reason, I’ve become strangely skilled at paperwork.”

As if performing a skill I knew from the start, it felt natural.

“How about personality confusion?”

I hope not?

However, it’s a bit tricky to evaluate one’s own personality.

“Have I seemed different over the past few days?”

“No.”

“Then it’s not…?”

“Same as always, clueless and stubborn, unable to hide your emotions, sneakily stealing food, dragging your feet, and scratching your belly.”

How does he see me?

Other than that…

“Let’s stop.”

If I hear more, I might crumble.

“To summarize, you’re the same as always. Consider it like you’ve learned a new skill.”

Isn’t that enough? Let’s just say I’ve powered up like the other heroes. It’s a bit strange that the new skill is document work, though.

“Then, let’s continue with the report. For now, I understood that the dust classification work is about 10% complete, but I hope I didn’t misinterpret that?”

“Hmm. That’s true, but… have you also gotten proficient at that kind of statistical work?”

I’ve reached a point where I can tell with a glance.

“Yeah.”

Upon hearing that, Oxymoron smiled a devilish grin and spoke.

“Can I take a look inside your brain later if I have time?”

What a crazy thing to say.

“Denied.”

“Ah, why not? If we do a thorough examination of the brain and memory, there’s a chance we might uncover the secrets of skill imprinting…”

Chance my foot. You just want to pop the lid on out of curiosity.

“Low chance,” I replied.

“If there’s a chance, isn’t it the duty of a scientist to challenge it?”

You’re a doctor too. A quack doctor.

“Stop talking nonsense and let’s get to work.”

“It’s a shame… but it can’t be helped. We must respect the patient’s wishes.”

I imagined that a medical professional would casually throw around syringes, but I kept my mouth shut.

Only the sounds of the business-like conversation and keyboard filled the room.

Denied.

A faint vibration was felt from the elevator rising up. A vibration that would be imperceptible to an ordinary person.

…When was the last time this elevator was checked?

“I’ll check.”

The short-haired woman next to me quickly tapped her PDA.

…20 months ago.

“Is it a budget issue? This place shouldn’t have any vibrations.”

Honestly, the faint vibration we’re feeling is almost certainly not affecting the sealed area, but there’s still a possibility, even if slim. The cargo elevator could cause significant impact if it were to fall underground.

“There’s no issue with the budget. However, hiring a technician has been deprioritized.”

“Make sure to handle it quickly.”

Tick. Click.

A strange sound echoed in my ears.

Recording our conversation=

1-

The act of scratching the PDA screen with a plastic pen.

Was it because of this? The PDA screen I saw moments ago was covered in scratches, but the object in hand continued its actions, seemingly indifferent.

Inside the elevator, the sound echoed, so I looked over there.

…Can that behavior not be corrected?

My words elicited a reaction from it.

The head nurse, dressed in a black nurse uniform, resembling black hair.

It moved its hand, tilting its head to the side as if my words were strange.

Screech. Denied.

The sound of scratching the plastic plate was heard, followed by the previously scratched screen being directed towards me.

『Monitoring behavior record. Command executed.』

“No, who said anything about that? I said to loosen up on the touch pen.”

Upon my words, it repeated the same action once more.

The scratching noise, the screen shining in my direction.

『Power control issue. Impossible.』

What’s the point of having that kind of nurse as an aide? What significance does an aide who can’t control their strength have?

Was our little dialogue amusing?

The administrative staff who accompanied me chuckled softly.

“Why’s that?”

“Nothing. We’re just used to it, so we don’t really mind it.”

Isn’t that a problematic statement?

“Nurses are an important resource in this area. If there’s a problem with their actions, it’s only natural to point it out.”

Did the woman forget that I came out as an inspector?

“That black one is thus used for exercising strength. For example… transporting burdens or repairing items…”

Does this imply that nurses have different abilities, and they’re using them accordingly?

Regular nurses don’t seem to have much difference in ability, but head nurses seem to have varying capabilities.

Well, I’m not here to manage this place, so they’ll handle it on their own.

Ding.

With a ringing metallic sound indicating we’ve arrived at the designated floor, the elevator doors opened.

“Don’t forget to check the elevator; a faint vibration is felt.”

The woman bowed her head, and I continued to carry out my inspection duties as guided.

“The number of rooms looks small, should there be any issues with accommodations?”

“Two shifts? Don’t talk nonsense; let’s allocate the hero rooms to regular staff. There’s no need to leave rooms unoccupied.”

“I mentioned earlier that there’s a lack of cooks in the dining area, but it seems there’s no problem now. What’s the plan for that?”

“Bring the local hiring report. I’ll check it.”

“The air purifier is old; it’s not doing its job. What’s the budget spending report like?”

“I’ll report that. We’ll quickly get a new one. There’s a high likelihood of a big issue here.”

How many hours have passed since I started walking around chatting like this?

“Um… Inspector?”

The administrative person trailing behind me quietly spoke up.

“What’s wrong?”

It’s the first time they spoke before I had a chance to ask.

“Isn’t there no need for you to verify the administrative work?”

Administration work? Why should I check that?

“Is there some corruption in it?”

“No… not like that, but…”

She waved her hands excessively in a flurry at my words.

“What’s the problem? Are you feeling a heavy administrative burden? Staff shortages? Equipment shortages?”

Is this an internal whistleblower at such a timing? It can’t be helped; there are probably no personnel around to report it, and this isn’t a place the inspector frequently visits…

The management association’s system may try to catch corruption as much as possible, but there’s always a way to cleverly escape and commit wrongdoing…

“No, the workload isn’t really that heavy. I find it actually a bit comfortable. It’s just…”

“Just?”

It seems you only hear things related to our lives in the places you hear…

I see, it means it’s not something a typical inspector would do.

“When they assigned inspection duties to me from the start, they probably had the same thought.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Administrative inspection? Corruption? Budget cuts?

Why would I care?

If they genuinely wanted an inspection, they should have sent professional personnel; they would have anticipated these matters when they sent me.

What if they didn’t anticipate it? Then I’d incur a penalty of budget cuts for the fault of not foreseeing it.

“So don’t worry about it, feel free to criticize the management association’s welfare and benefits.”

I lifted the corners of my mouth and announced that to her.

…You really don’t fit the role of an inspector.

“I think so too.”

By the way, what did I say in that conversation earlier? It’s more comfortable? Should I request to reduce the personnel sent here a bit?

No, if I reduce personnel hastily, the shift system would go haywire.

“There, nurse? Delete that conversation record from just now.”

The nurse, upon hearing my words, quietly nodded and began to scratch at the screen again.

“Why’re you doing that?”

“If the comment about it being comfortable remains, the number of personnel sent here might decrease.”

Really, I’m not suited for gratitude.



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