In modern democratic nations where no one can hold permanent power unless a coup occurs, it is nearly impossible to completely control the media.
Attempts may be made, but certain prerequisites are required for those attempts to succeed.
First, there must be a direct connection between those running the broadcasting stations and the issue at hand.
Leaders of large organizations often prioritize self-preservation and will act decisively if they believe their positions are at risk.
Unfortunately for the government, in this case, the ‘Black Magical Girl’ had little connection to the media.
The girl had no parents—not because of an accident, but because she never had them in the first place.
She didn’t have significant personal ties to anyone, let alone people influential in broadcasting.
Although the news outlets had previously framed the black magical girl as a villain, changing narratives in news stories is a common occurrence and can be justified easily.
This was especially true here, as the federation, the government, and corporations were all hiding the truth.
The second condition is that the news topic must not be profitable.
If a story doesn’t generate revenue but antagonizes the government, federation, or corporations, the media typically avoids it.
This is understandable, as the government oversees broadcasting regulations, the federation often operates “above” the government, and corporations finance broadcasting through advertisements.
However, this issue was far from unprofitable.
It garnered high viewership ratings, making it highly lucrative for broadcasters.
Even if Noir Corporation withdrew its ads, the advertising spots around such a popular news segment remained expensive.
As a result, the Black Magical Girl’s appeal dominated the main news slots of broadcasting stations.
The story even spread internationally.
Foreign broadcasters, unconcerned about the Korean government’s sensitivities, scrutinized the matter extensively.
The federation declined all interview requests.
While requests came from other countries as well, officials there distanced themselves, saying,
“The federation spans the entire galaxy. Just because one part acted in a certain way doesn’t mean it reflects the federation as a whole.”
In essence, they placed the blame on those responsible for Korea.
But such statements weren’t enough to quell public outrage.
Magical girls, heroes, or special forces—groups capable of activating hope circuits existed all over the world
These groups mostly consisted of young members.
After the incident in Korea, people naturally began wondering, “Could this happen to us too?”
The federation’s carefully crafted “positive image” of the past five years suffered a severe blow.
Framing a minor as a terrorist while letting the “real terrorists” go free was an enormous scandal.
Even on planets outside Earth, where civilizations had developed to a certain level, the distinction between “minors” and “adults” existed. The story of what had been done to Earth’s “minor” gradually spread across the galaxy.
After all, the concept of magical girls was well-known beyond Earth.
The federation wasn’t the only one in trouble.
Other nations operating similar groups faced criticism too, often preemptively addressing concerns to avoid scrutiny.
Completely ignoring such discussions wasn’t an option, and responding invariably left gaps for further criticism.
The government urgently needed a “solution,” but opinions on what that solution should be were divided.
Among the federation, government, and corporations, the corporations suffered the most.
Noir Corporation’s reputation plummeted to rock bottom.
Already not well-regarded, the company faced calls for boycotts as public sentiment soured.
Perhaps this was a backlash against how aggressively the media had vilified the Black Magical Girl up until now.
Public opinion had previously leaned toward quickly capturing and prosecuting her.
Now, those same voices clamored more vehemently for the punishment of those responsible, as evidence contradicting their claims emerged.
Discussions about magical girls increased as well.
These girls had yet to issue a statement.
Efforts to question their silence and lack of action during this crisis were met with guarded responses from the federation.
Three days after the broadcast, the world remained chaotic.
The question on everyone’s mind was about the black magical girl who exposed everything: where had she gone?
*
On the first night, I camped in the mountains.
No, this wasn’t a joke.
I was literally camping. Wearing a mask to conceal my face, tying my hair differently, and dressing in casual clothes, I ventured outside, unsure of where to hide.
Though I had saved some money, it wasn’t much, so O chose a cheap and safe place to spend the night—a remote spot where I set up my tent.
It was a risky move.
Camping in an unregulated area attracted attention.
I picked a spot with no one around, but even I wasn’t sure where I was.
Judging by the oxygen levels, it was far from a well-known campsite.
“This is dangerous. What if I hadn’t been here?” said James smugly.
“Do you want me to roast you too?” I replied expressionlessly, causing James to fall silent.
Of course, James had also altered his appearance.
Luckily, this country had a small population of humanoid rodents, most of whom worked for corporations and had their own networks.
James, true to his personality, wasn’t part of those communities.
Although some came as tourists, I had never encountered one.
James, whose distinct fur color was too recognizable, used technology similar to the one that altered her face to disguise himself.
His fur now appeared as a brown mottled pattern.
Even so, he remained hidden in her bag to avoid drawing attention.
I glanced around nervously after replying to James.
Fortunately, there was no one nearby.
It was a weekday, and the location was close to a gravesite.
If today happened to be the day of a funeral, a grieving family might show up, but judging by the height of the grass growing over the graves, it seemed safe for now.
“I can’t stay here for long,” I murmured.
“Of course not. This is just a temporary spot to rest,” James replied.
The tent had been prepared in advance by James.
Naturally, it wasn’t intended for leisurely camping trips but as an emergency shelter in case of outdoor roughing it.
It was a lightweight tent, just big enough for my backpack and me.
If it ever felt too heavy, I could just toss it into my subspace.
“Maybe I should just move into the subspace. Though it probably doesn’t work like that, which is why I can’t,” I mused.
“You really don’t eat meat, do you?”
“I don’t need to. But if you must insist, I’d prefer insects—mealworms or something similar.”
“Alright, then I’ll just eat it all myself.”
I hadn’t offered him any in the first place.
Besides, I didn’t want to touch mealworms.
I silently watched as the meat cooked.
A life on the run, eating grilled food in the wilderness—luxurious in its own way.
My body still ached. Honestly, I just wanted to collapse and sleep.
But hunger gnawed at me.
The first thing I’d done after pitching the tent was dig out a can of food from my bag.
Meanwhile, James, hidden in the bag, was snacking on sunflower seeds I’d bought for him back when we were hiding in Pangpang’s place.
At least I didn’t have to worry about his food supply; it’d last him a while.
Sometimes I envied him—able to hide away in a corner, and that was enough.
Then again, in the wild, he might end up as cat food.
As the sizzling sound of cooking meat filled the air, I picked up my chopsticks.
The surface of the canned ham was perfectly browned.
Grilling canned ham over a camping burner in the mountains—was this romantic or pitiful?
One thing was certain: it was illegal.
I thought about Pangpang’s place.
Though it was warming into spring, the cold still bit at me.
I wasn’t sure how long I could last with just a tent and a sleeping bag.
Staying in one spot wasn’t an option.
Would I have to roam from mountain to mountain, setting up camp wherever I could?
That’d be too conspicuous.
Returning to Pangpang’s place wasn’t an option either.
Even as the smell of the meat became mouthwatering,
I couldn’t shake my gloomy thoughts.
*
The next day, I left the campsite.
I hastily packed the tent, stuffing it into my large backpack.
The oversized pack on my back made it feel like James’s voice came from right behind my head whenever he spoke.
I didn’t like it, but there was no other choice.
The communicator Hayoon had given me had already been disassembled by James, cutting off its power.
He planned to modify its parts into a simple call-only device with no tracking features.
The top of my backpack—where it rose to my head—had become James’s little laboratory.
In a way, I was a walking escape shelter for him.
I didn’t like that either, but as someone relying on his help, I had no other choice.
The pain in my body lingered.
The lack of proper paths made things worse; there were barely traces of people having passed through, let alone a real road.
The black hole had indeed taken me somewhere unknown—even to myself.
Luckily, there was a road nearby.
I decided to follow it, hoping it would eventually lead somewhere.
“What now?” I asked aloud.
“First, we need to find shelter. Somewhere that doesn’t require identification.”
Where could such a place be?
I considered moving from mountain to mountain, but the thought drained me.
“What about a guesthouse?” James suggested.
“Those are usually expensive for what they offer. A week there, and I’d be out of money.”
Even if I stretched my budget beyond a week, I still had to eat.
Moreover, in such places, I’d frequently encounter the homeowner, which greatly increased the risk of my identity being discovered.
I wasn’t keen on the idea.
“An abandoned house would be ideal,” James mused.
“Better than nothing,” I admitted.
“Should I ask the magical girls for help?”
I muttered to myself.
“Are you crazy?” James snapped.
“Have you forgotten they’re likely under surveillance? The federation probably reported their involvement in helping you, or they didn’t need to report it because the failure to stop you was obvious. It wouldn’t be surprising if they couldn’t continue as magical girls anymore.”
If Hayoon quit being a magical girl, would she be okay?
She’d surely be devastated.
I wiped my face with my hand.
Ji-hye—what happened to her?
I’d only seen her being taken to the hospital before leaving.
Here, without news or newspapers,
I had no idea how things had unfolded.
I got up and started walking again.
Whatever happened, I had to keep moving.
Following the road was risky;
I could be spotted by passing cars.
Instead, I stayed at a distance where I could see the road but remain out of sight.
It wouldn’t be easy to maintain that distance, especially in mountainous terrain.
If it became impossible, I’d have no choice but to walk on the road.
*
After hours of walking, I stumbled upon something unexpected.
“Hmm.” James scratched his chin as he looked up at a dilapidated house.
While walking along a faint path from the gravesite, I’d come across another trail.
This one was rougher and less traveled.
Weeds had grown so tall, they reached my shins—possibly waist-high by summer.
Exhausted from hours of walking,
I had been searching for a spot to rest when I found this house.
“This looks like a decent temporary shelter,”
James commented, eyeing the eerie structure.
Right.
It was a village.
The area was quite spacious, with about six houses.
Calling it a village with only six houses seemed questionable, but the remnants of foundations where other houses once stood suggested that residents had gradually left, leaving these six houses abandoned as well.
“If we pitch a tent inside one of the houses, it might be somewhat livable,” James remarked.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Surely you’re not seriously asking me that. If you’re looking for free accommodation that doesn’t require ID, this is about as good as it gets,” James replied.
I glanced at the house and then scanned the surroundings.
Even in broad daylight, the place was eerily desolate.
Among the six single-story houses, this one was situated at the highest point and was in the best condition.
Most of the others were half-collapsed.
This house, at least, retained its shape.
With reluctant steps, I approached it.
The rusty sliding door creaked ominously as I opened it, revealing a musty smell from within.
The interior was in no better condition than one might expect from a house left abandoned for years—barely enough to shield against the rain.
Wouldn’t camping near the gravesite have been better?
“Still, pitching a tent inside would keep you from freezing to death,” James noted.
“Even if you light a fire, it’s less likely to draw attention. Of course, that assumes we block all the windows. As for the mold… well, we can clean it up little by little while staying here.”
“And by ‘we,’ you mean me, right?”
“Naturally. My robot form is already your property, after all.”
I had a lot to say about that but decided to hold my tongue.
Letting out a deep sigh, I looked around.
It was a bit bigger than Pangpang’s place, at least.
“Fine,” I muttered.
“Could you build a radio or something?” I asked.
“If I tinker a bit, I could get something functional for your day-to-day needs. In that sense, this place is ideal. You need a minimum level of energy to open your subspace, don’t you?”
That was part of the reason I’d lugged my backpack here.
The thought that no one knew where I was brought me some relief.
Perhaps it was also the realization that Hayoon didn’t hate me.
At least I’d gained one less potential enemy.
Still, James’s remark was mildly irritating.
If I ran out of food, maybe I’d consider making him my emergency ration.
“You’re thinking something highly uncivilized right now, aren’t you?”
“At least you’re better at reading my expressions these days,” I quipped.
When he was my administrator, he hadn’t seemed to grasp my emotions at all.
I sighed again as I set my backpack down.
James scurried into it, treating it like his tent.
I unzipped the bag and pulled out my tent.
I didn’t bother anchoring it with stakes; the wind wasn’t strong enough to blow it away.
After setting it up, I examined the dilapidated house.
Who knew how long I’d stay here?
A few weeks, maybe?
If so, I’d need to tidy up the place.
I sighed deeply.
My body hadn’t fully healed, and now I had to tackle heavy labor.
But what choice did I have?
I had to stay hidden until Hayoon called for me.
The mere thought of that made my heart race.
How hopeless could I get?
*
She’d heard many things from people, but the most common was, “How could you?”
The adults all said the same thing—that no matter what had happened,
She should’ve captured Jieun.
That if she had grievances, she should’ve voiced them properly.
“Lies,” Hayoon muttered.
They would’ve just said, ‘It couldn’t be helped,’ after catching her.
Should she have run away with Jieun back then?
Escaped far, far away?
But Hayoon couldn’t bring herself to make that choice.
In a situation like this, sticking by Jieun would only make things worse for her.
Still.
She wanted to see Jieun.
Ever since realizing Jieun didn’t entirely hate her,
Hayoon had been longing for that.
Had she made the wrong choice?
Should she have knelt and begged to leave with Jieun?
It was unbearable.
Truly.
The circuit had been confiscated.
It wasn’t gone forever—Hayoon could retrieve it if she needed, but only temporarily.
She’d only get it back as a tool, not as something truly hers.
“Hayoon…”
Cherry called out to her as she lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
But there wasn’t much else to say.
It wasn’t Cherry’s fault, and Hayoon knew that, but emotions weren’t so easily controlled.
She turned her head and saw the communicator by her bedside—a spare one she’d been given long ago.
At least with it, she could feel connected to Jieun, even if just a little.
A single thread of hope.
Perhaps that faint hope was the only thing keeping Hayoon from losing control entirely.