Otaku types tend to be strangely particular about certain things—and in my opinion, Claire was one of them.
That doesn’t an I’m calling Claire an otaku.
By my own standards—as soone who was once an otaku—playing a single ga series or enjoying a few popular ani or manga doesn’t make you one. An otaku needs to have sothing a bit darker about them, sothing obsessive, like treating the wait for the next episode or update as one of the few joys in life.
If you can just stop watching midway and move on, or shrug and go “oh well” when sothing gets canceled, then you’re just a normal person.
So among us, I suppose the only one who really qualifies as an otaku is Mia.
...Of course, given that I’ve literally made it my mission to get a happy ending inside a video ga world, I might be the most deep-boned otaku here.
Still, even if Claire isn’t quite there yet, she definitely has the potential.
“For light and justice! Magical Sylvia!”
“Unnie, that’s not right.”
At first, I tried to grit my teeth and clear the ga properly. But once I hit a difficulty wall that pure reaction ti couldn’t overco, I ended up yelling out my ultimate move. Claire looked at seriously and said,
“A magical girl would never stutter while casting a spell! A magical girl’s lines are the face of the franchise! If you don’t say it right, the toys won’t sell!”
“...Isn’t that a bit too real?”
Boom.
While arguing with Claire, I failed to notice my character on screen and ended up exploding.
Apparently, even in a shooting ga where you’re playing as a flying magical girl, the character is still referred to as a “unit.” I an, just because you’re controlling a magical ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) girl doesn’t an blood sprays everywhere when she’s hit. She just explodes in a colorful burst like fireworks.
“More importantly, I think this ga has a serious design flaw.”
“Huh? What kind of flaw?”
“The ultimate move only activates after the full voice command is spoken. So you can’t actually use it to block incoming bullets in ti.”
Exactly.
The ga only recognized the move after I finished speaking. It had to pick up my voice through the mic, detect the end of my phrase, and then register the move in-ga.
Which ans—even if you had infinite ultimates—you’d need to shout short phrases over and over to spam them.
And if soone else was talking nearby? The ga would pick up their words as part of the command and delay the move. Worse, if multiple people were having a conversation, the ga treated the entire conversation as one continuous command—so if soone talked to you mid-battle, your ultimate was delayed that long!
I an, even if it’s a tech limitation, this is way too sloppy for such a crucial chanic.
Then again... maybe it was intentional. If it was designed to be a trash ga from the start, that would explain everything.
“Then why don’t you make different nas for different kinds of moves?”
“...”
I couldn’t help but admire Claire at that mont.
She really did have a lot of ideas for stuff like this.
I quietly passed the controller to Alice. Honestly, I figured in the end it would co down to a final match between Mia and anyway.
Apparently, Alice had a similar thought—she tried to play by dodging with her eyes alone at first.
But it turns out the visual reflexes used in sword fighting and the ones needed for playing gas are a bit different.
“Magical Missile!”
“Wrong!”
Claire shouted excitedly.
“You have to transform first before using a move!”
“Claire? If you keep talking next to , the ga registers it as part of the spell and won’t fire the ultimate.”
Boom.
“...Hey, my ultimate didn’t go off while you two were chatting next to .”
At Alice’s comnt, I averted my gaze.
[LOLOLOLOL]
[There’s no way we’re finishing this ga today]
[Guess we just have to keep distracting each other]
The viewers quickly grasped the true nature of the ga.
“Then let’s agree not to talk to the player mid-ga from now on,”
Charlotte said, clearly having been waiting to bring it up.
“Otherwise we’ll never finish this ga properly. And we do need to earn that mission reward.”
We all stared at Charlotte, but she t our eyes without a hint of sha.
As expected of a princess.
Definitely the most politically educated one among us.
*
“Magical Missile!”
Magical Beam!”
“Magical Whatever!”
When it was Claire’s turn—the one who knew the ga best—she started improvising random incantations and made it surprisingly far.
And at that point, I gave up on the whole “Claire might be an otaku” theory.
Thinking back, the way she kept talking earlier... that was all just sabotage, wasn’t it?
She just wanted to be the first to clear the ga and then enjoy watching the rest of us suffer the punishnts.
She was probably the one among us least involved in politics... Though, now that I think about it, when I rewound ti, Claire did beco an imperial princess. So I guess she got so political education along the way.
Boom.
Still, no matter how good she was, there was no dodging the bullet storm near the end.
If you just shouted “Ah! Ah!” in short bursts, you could maybe survive, but actually saying full magical girl lines while dodging? Not easy.
“Aw, too bad.”
Still, Claire looked satisfied as she passed the controller to Mia.
[“Magical Whatever” is a bit much]
[A cheap adult’s spell]
[She just wanted to win lol]
“But I did say ‘Magical,’ didn’t I?”
Just because you add “Magical” doesn’t make it a proper magical girl spell!
Although, now that I think about it, the only one here actually dressed like a magical girl was Mia.
All our eyes turned to Mia as she sat down.
Out of all of us, Mia was the one who probably knew magical girls the best.
Sure, I’d watched so magical girl ani as a kid. But I was a boy, and I’d always felt awkward watching shows made for girls. Even when I was alone, I’d change the channel out of pride, then feel regret afterward.
So I can’t really claim to “know them well.”
But Mia regularly stread magical girl shows on her phone. I was curious to see how she would shout her spell.
Inhale—
After watching the rest of us play, Mia took a deep breath in preparation.
Then—
“Pipiru Parapara Change Cue!”
...Huh?
That didn’t even sound like human language.
The rest of us sat with mouths slightly agape.
[?]
[??]
[Is that what magical girl spells sound like nowadays?]
Apparently?
I couldn’t rember exactly either. I’d watched them so long ago.
But thinking back, maybe the lines really were like that.
Stuff like:
“Love Change!”
or
“Beat Cue!”
Yeah, that kind of thing.
Now that I thought about it, even within the sa franchise, titles and phrases changed based on the tis and what kids were into.
Back when I was little, most kids watched ani into their early teens, and without smartphones, we played with toys or ran around outside. Nowadays, even really young kids have phones, so the age when they play with physical toys has dropped.
Maybe girl-targeted toys changed too.
[I’m falling for her...]
[Is this the true power of magic?]
[Magical Girl Miamical Mia!]
The chat was exploding.
And while we sat speechless, Mia beca the first among us to make it all the way to the boss.
The bullet hell that had made progress nearly impossible for the rest of us? Mia broke through it effortlessly by reciting well-paced, properly spaced lines. Suddenly the ga beca reasonably beatable.
To be fair, Claire had done sothing similar—but Mia’s execution was flawless.
“Ah.”
But even Mia didn’t clear the ga on her first try. The boss was a bit harder by design. Its enormous body filled a third of the screen, shortening the bullet spawn distance.
“Phew.”
Even so, Mia looked radiant as she stepped away after losing.
[Is this... the power of childhood innocence?]
But we’re the sa age! At least physically.
And legally, we’re both adults in this country.
“Mia, did you have fun?”
“Yes!”
She answered my question with a bright smile, and I realized sothing:
My heart was darker than I thought.
Wait, wasn’t Mia the one who once planned to kill her classmates? Shouldn’t she be the darker one?
Maybe she just discovered her inner child a little later than most?
What the hell does that make ...?
“......”
All of us—myself included—turned to look at Claire.
Her gaplay had been similar, but the contrast between Mia’s genuine joy and Claire’s calculated strategy was hard to ignore.
“...I’m sorry.”
Unable to withstand the weight of our stares, Claire turned her head and muttered her apology.
anwhile, Mia just watched us, a question mark practically floating above her head.
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