Starting as a Magical Girl, I Alone Shall Rule for Eternity

This world did not have Magical Girls.

An Shiyu knew this from when she was very small.

Back when she was in Beihai, no matter how many times she prayed, her illness never improved.

Her existence seemed never to bring any happiness or joy.

There had once been a trend in Beihai for a while of Magical Girl anime.

Miracles that could grant any wish, heroes who could save everyone,

but that was fake.

She decided she would never believe in Magical Girls again.

She was six that year.

She left Beihai and never heard of, nor saw, any real Magical Girl.

Her parents boarded a Sky Bus from Beihai to Hulin City to seek treatment for her illness.

They encountered a terrible car crash along the way.

Many people died in that crash.

An Shiyu lost hearing in her right ear because of it, and a rather ugly scar remained on her neck.

Her mother was hospitalized and left paralyzed on one side; her father soon lost his job.

A family that had been doing okay suddenly fell into hardship.

She was sent to Hulin City’s neighboring area.

Her parents, in the hospital, held her hands and gently told her to listen to the doctors and not to run around.

They said they were going far away and would be gone a long time,

but An Shiyu never saw her parents return.

She waited from winter to spring, from spring to summer.

The little wishes of the girl were never fulfilled.

Whether hoping her illness would heal

or hoping her parents would come back to visit,

ungranted wishes only wither, swept away by the river of time.

They became an endless despair.

Because this world was so dull and ordinary.

An Shiyu was lucky.

After leaving the hospital, kind people arranged for her to enter an orphanage.

Although her condition showed no sign of improvement, it also did not worsen.

Days passed one after another like that.

She rarely spoke to others, and never thought about making friends.

Because sooner or later, she would die.

But there was a girl in the orphanage who always liked to cling to her.

Because she always chattered, talking nonstop, everyone at the orphanage called her Sparrow.

Sparrow’s chatter made her unpopular in the orphanage; no one wanted to play with her.

Only An Shiyu did not drive her away, so whenever she had time she would sit beside Sparrow and listen to all sorts of things.

Most often she talked about Magical Girls.

How dazzling Magical Girls were, how beautiful they were, like princesses,

shining girls who made every miracle happen and defeated all monsters...

She loved Magical Girls so much, always fantasizing about their existence.

That was something An Shiyu had long since given up on.

Sparrow’s constant fussing annoyed her, so one day An Shiyu asked,

“Do you want to become a Magical Girl?”

Unexpectedly Sparrow told her, “I—I can’t become a Magical Girl.”

“I’m not pretty, I have no power, I’m afraid of pain, and I’m afraid of monsters...”

There are no monsters in Hulin City.

To An Shiyu, who had seriously considered this issue, Sparrow sounded ridiculous.

If you admired them, wouldn’t you want to become that kind of person?

A shining Magical Girl who could realize others’ dreams.

To admire them but think you can never become one—that’s far too self-deprecating.

Of course, An Shiyu had already passed the age of admiring Magical Girls,

so when the orphanage boys, because of Sparrow, ran up to her and said, “Magical Girls don’t exist,”

An Shiyu only smiled.

She did not know whether they were mocking her or trying to get her attention, but she no longer cared about that.

The wishes she wanted to fulfill had long since disappeared.

Even if a real Magical Girl stood before her, she wouldn’t know how to make a wish.

Miracles are trivial and meaningless to someone without wishes.

She just quietly, quietly waited for her death.

Like an outsider with no connection, watching the world happen.

Until the world abandoned her.

She was twelve that year.

If possible, living peacefully like that until death might have been best.

However, the world never allowed her life to be too easy.

It had been that way since birth.

She had grown used to the accidents that always appeared. The orphanage soon suffered the same fate.

A group of strangers came; the familiar staff were dismissed.

They didn’t know where they were taken.

The activity space turned into an underground area.

As time passed, everyone was trapped underground, unable to get out.

They were locked in basements, with guards watching the doors; anyone who approached was driven back.

Children who tried to break out were punished without exception.

One child nearly opened a door after stealing a key but was taken far away.

When she returned, she never spoke again, only cried.

After that, no one dared try to escape anymore.

Before long, the boys were gradually taken away; no one knew what happened to them.

Only the girls were left.

Life without daylight—every day was boring waiting and interrogation, and some physical tests.

Occasional blood draws, then being taken to do certain activities.

An Shiyu didn’t much mind.

As someone already waiting to die, every change was just a meaningless ripple.

But Sparrow was terrified.

She would cry easily, recalling the days back at the orphanage when no one bothered her.

An Shiyu did not comfort people; she simply sat beside Sparrow and silently watched her cry, occasionally wiping her tears.

Actually, An Shiyu had a petty thought inside.

Because only those waiting to die feel loneliness.

But in such an environment, having a group of people also waiting to die felt comforting.

She wouldn’t feel lonely, wouldn’t feel afraid.

Harboring such a shameful thought, she convinced herself that even if a Magical Girl did exist, she would never appear for her.

Even if a miracle appeared, it would never be for her,

though in truth, this world had no miracles.

After who knew how long, a woman came to the basement.

She was fierce; her name was Scorpio. She liked to play Go and always challenged the children to games. When she smiled, her eyes glanced like a venomous snake, measuring them.

From then on, life became harder.

Whether it was excessive exercise or harsh corporal punishment, it was hard to adapt to either.

Occasional medicines for treatment caused uncomfortable side effects.

An Shiyu often lost consciousness because of them.

But the food improved, and toys and snacks were distributed.

Later, everyone had a blood-red cross painted on their foreheads.

The punishments had no fixed pattern and no clear reason.

It seemed merely intended to keep them constantly fearful and uneasy.

Even An Shiyu began to feel pressure and exhaustion.

But she knew her death was not far off; all the pain and torment would soon end.

Sparrow, however, was not like that.

Every night Sparrow curled up against her legs, clutching An Shiyu like a drowning person clinging to a life buoy.

She cried about her suffering, saying she couldn’t hold on any longer.

Beaten and bruised, An Shiyu comforted her, easing her pain until she fell asleep.

The life without daylight had no end in sight.

The children licked their wounds and kept persisting without knowing why.

If only there really were miracles in this world...

One day—An Shiyu could not tell exactly which day,

because she could not distinguish time.

That day, Scorpio came out from outside. She gathered them all and lined them up.

Scorpio was a showy person; she did not like to bully children without reason.

“Let’s play Go, children. I feel like playing today.”

They played Go, but few of the children knew how to play.

“The loser goes to the Witch Laboratory.”

Once inside that Witch Laboratory, something like poisonous gas would erode you.

It was agonizing and torturous; one wrong move and you could die inside.

No one was not afraid.

“Crying? You can cry, but it takes time. If you’re not quick, you’ll go in.”

The child at the front was thrown into the Witch Laboratory; a piercing, desperate cry came from within.

All the children stood frozen; some sobbed softly.

“Next.”

The voice, like an executioner, never paused.

The second girl seemed to know a little, but after starting she turned deathly pale.

Scorpio obviously knew Go deeply; her skill was excellent.

When the last stone was placed, the two girls burst into tears, “Give me another chance...”

“Next.”

Another even more piercing sound came from the Witch Laboratory.

An Shiyu felt Sparrow leaning almost entirely on her, unable to stand.

This world had no miracles.

No matter how tragic or desperate the situation,

“Next.”

The pounding in her chest made it almost impossible to breathe.

She was only an observer.

As someone meant to die, she needed to do nothing, just quietly wait for her death.

Miracles had never favored her, so they would not favor others either; death and despair were equal...

“Next!”

When Sparrow was dragged forward, An Shiyu grabbed her.

She took a deep, deep breath.

Sparrow’s face was streaked with tears; she only looked at her and called her name.

The world was cold and cruel, only delivering disappointment and pain.

But even so,

she wanted to create a small miracle for someone else.

Even if she herself would never receive it...

“May I? Let me go first?”

Scorpio looked her over with a smiling gaze, then nodded, “Okay.”

She sat down by the board, closed her eyes, and recalled Scorpio’s sequences.

An Shiyu could play Go, because in a life often spent sick, there were few things to do.

She learned what others liked to communicate and play with them.

In the hospital, many elderly people played Go.

Though not masterful, she was good at memorizing game records.

What she needed to do was subtly steer the game, guiding it to the positions she had recorded.

Then, using the countermeasures she imagined, force the opponent’s death.

Scorpio’s smile gradually faded.

When the final stone remained, An Shiyu held it but did not place it immediately.

Scorpio’s furrowed brows relaxed slightly; she even applauded.

She praised, “Go ahead, place it. You win. You played beautifully.”

An Shiyu exhaled a little and bowed her head, “Thank you, thank you, ma’am.”

“Next.”

When Scorpio’s subordinates were about to pull Sparrow away, An Shiyu still sat there, unmoving.

Scorpio cocked her head and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I want to play another game, to play for her.”

Tapping the piece against the board, Scorpio said with amusement, “You think you can keep winning?”

“I only want to play for her.”

“Oh, if you lose, you go to the laboratory and she goes free, right?”

Scorpio waved her hand.

The children who had been thrown into the Witch Laboratory were dragged back out, lying on the ground, unconscious—possibly dead—with black marks across their bodies and torn wounds.

An Shiyu trembled slightly; her hand could barely hold the stone.

She glanced back; aside from Sparrow, the children behind them stared in fear and pleading.

A tiny hope and a tiny miracle.

She still sat across from Scorpio and said, with somewhat strained breath, “I want, I want to play three matches.”

“All right.”

Three matches was the limit.

Besides the match just played, she only had records for three matches; after those three games she would have no backup.

No one could save them.

An Shiyu did not want to die now.

She did not want to die.

This match stretched on.

To avoid revealing flaws, An Shiyu disrupted some lines earlier, which caused deviations in her memory.

Thankfully, the final finish still succeeded, with danger averted.

“Let Sparrow go back.”

At Scorpio’s command, the poor little girl was sent back.

But before An Shiyu could catch her breath, Scorpio immediately started the next game.

Scorpio’s sensitivity to the board far exceeded An Shiyu’s expectations. By midgame, Scorpio noticed strange moves and quickly began to disturb the lines. In the closing stage, she broke several of An Shiyu’s expectations.

In the end, An Shiyu won by only half a point.

“Not bad, I let you win again.”

Scorpio cheerfully lit a cigarette, then waved another child back, “Only one left now.”

But An Shiyu’s clothes were soaked with sweat, and her breathing grew rapid.

When the final match began, every move became painfully slow and hesitant.

When she gently placed a stone, she felt a gnawing urge to take it back.

Scorpio did not wait for her to think; each of the opponent’s moves struck the board heavily. Later, a single placement would make An Shiyu involuntarily shudder.

Before long, the black stones formed a dominant shape on the board, like a live venomous snake coiling tightly around her.

Patiently, playfully licking at her pupils as if ready to bite.

“!”

Another child was dragged out from the Witch Laboratory, this time missing limbs.

Blood sprayed as they were hauled along, splattering onto An Shiyu.

She clutched a white stone, her hand suspended in the air, yet trembling uncontrollably. The final killing move could not be placed; her face was deathly pale and drenched in sweat.

“What’s wrong? If you don’t remember the record you can’t play?” Scorpio’s voice was gentle as she toyed with the blood-red cross on her forehead, the Grief Seed embedded there. “That won’t do.”

Miracles never appear.

Even if she gave everything to gain a tiny miracle for someone else,

in the end it would be worthless futility.

She did not know if she felt fear or regret.

She didn’t know how long she struggled, but after a long fight, her stiff hand could no longer hold.

Dark blood water mixed with sweat dripped from her fingertips; the stone fell toward a pathless board.

Scorpio’s smile bloomed brighter.

Then the smile was torn open.

Without any warning, without loud sound,

it split suddenly and silently from the middle.

The Grief Seed embedded in Scorpio’s brow fell, the black seed landing in a compact, veiny black hand.

When the woman collapsed, a youth wearing a fox mask stood opposite, holding that bloodstained Grief Seed, touching it to a weak point in the black stones; they were instantly swallowed, vanishing in a single move.

One stone slays the dragon.

At the brink of death.

An Shiyu stared at the board, then looked up, her mouth slightly open, staring at the fox-masked youth.

This world had no miracles.

That should have been the truth, the proper state of things.

“Why didn’t you transform?”

Only when the youth spoke did the girl realize she was holding a green seed without noticing.

She clutched the seed and sobbed until she could not speak.

That was the first time a miracle favored An Shiyu.

That day she had just turned fourteen,

and she became a Magical Girl.