Sakura Emma, ​​I'm going to control you fiercely!

Of these, the most important is—

'Marg receives support from a high-ranking member of the Magic Bureau.'

The first person Emma thought of was Meruru.

"Meruru."

It seems the gods are thinking the same thing as her. We should be on our guard.

"I really hope Meruru gets some good equipment for Mag, so that after we defeat him, it will all be mine."

Emma: '...'

Ha ha.

Even now, she still can't understand the thought process of the gods.

I want to dream so badly! I want to talk to everyone! I don't want to keep all my troubles bottled up inside...

Just then, Hannah walked over from a distance.

As she watched the wreckage disappear, her expression softened slightly.

Upon seeing Emma, ​​Hannah suddenly remembered something and quickly scanned her up and down.

They breathed a sigh of relief after seeing that he was unharmed.

Hannah took a deep breath as she watched Emma slowly pick up the black residue from the ground.

"Anyway, the matter is over now... I happen to have something I want to say to you."

Hannah's little leather shoes tapped lightly on the ground, her eyes glancing nervously to the side.

"And it's getting late. Would you like to... come to my house?"

Volume 1: Chapter 66 A Dead End

Mag originally intended to stay in place for a while, wait for the clone to dissipate on its own, and then leave, pretending that he was not there.

The clone that looked exactly like her was being treated increasingly badly by Emma Sakuraba, and Mag couldn't stand it anymore, so he had to dispel the clone.

Finally, we were greeted with Emma Sakura's "I knew it" tone:

"Ah, you really are here."

Marg's blood pressure spiked, and unwilling to linger any longer, she quickly left.

On the way to the [warehouse] where she stored the remains, Marg had more than once asked herself:

Is Emma Sakura really a white-level magical girl?

During the battle, Emma Sakura didn't use magic much, only engaging in close combat with the Blood Sword.

This, in turn, makes Emma Sakura's strength even more unpredictable.

According to information obtained by Mag from the Magic Bureau, Emma Sakuraba has been a magical girl for less than a week.

However, this magical girl, who had been around for less than a week, displayed a powerful suppressive force in the early to mid-stage battles against the Maglan-level clone.

"It's very confusing."

One week, Blue level?

Marg shook her head.

This is a fantasy, unprecedented, and impossible.

The abandoned construction site can now be seen from afar.

Marg was invigorated once again.

I have not failed yet.

Inside the warehouse, there is also a blue-level wreckage capable of triggering an eclipse!

Marg's lips curled up slightly.

Having a backup plan has always been a good habit of hers, and it has earned her high praise from her partner, Nanoha Kaori.

When I'm on a mission with Sherry, she always complains that "all that fancy stuff is no good, just go for it."

In hindsight, developing "alternative plans" in advance was indeed a wise move!

Thinking it over, Mag landed in the center of the construction site and easily found the entrance to the underground warehouse.

Soon, she walked into the underground facility.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty space, creating ripples in the unfinished room.

Looking at the maze magic set up along the path to the warehouse, Mag liked it more and more.

Her unique maze magic has been published in academic papers and downloaded by numerous universities around the world.

Although magical girls don't use it often, it's usually used by official "magicians" like police stations.

The sorcerers were very impressed.

The "castrated version" used by sorcerers, whose magical abilities haven't yet diverged from those of ordinary people, is completely different from the full version used by Mag, the magical girl.

Mag was confident that even if the Ice Meruru entered the maze, on the premise of "not using force," she would be dragged here for at least several hours before being sent back to the maze entrance.

But the further they went, the more Mag realized something was wrong.

despair!

Mag stopped and stared expressionlessly at an open door on the side of the maze, where there were signs of ransacking inside.

She frowned slightly.

A labyrinth? Looting? Who has nothing better to do than loot the witch's labyrinth?

Could it be that I missed some lines when I was drawing the magic, causing some bugs?

Or perhaps, while I was away, an ordinary person broke in?

She slightly raised her index finger, and the door closed by itself.

Marg continued onward.

On the only way to the warehouse, Mag discovers that wherever there is a door, it will inevitably be opened.

She simply couldn't understand this behavior.

These empty rooms and tightly closed iron gates in the maze were clearly just decorations she used to create atmosphere!

A normal person, once they open the first two doors and find them full of dust, will not waste their energy opening the back doors.

Why... doesn't this perpetrator learn his lesson and open every single door to check it?

Even the cardboard box in the corner was split in two!

It was like a locust swarm passing through.

About five minutes later, Marge stopped again and silently stared at the smashed vending machine in front of her.

The maze contained benches and vending machines, which she considered her personal "trap," and was set up by servants who were not at the white rank.

It's like a "vase" used for home decoration.

After all, it's strange that a large area with a bare, unfinished interior would have vending machines and elegant benches.

However, judging from the current situation, this trap that Mag had no hope for has already shown signs of being triggered.

It was also smashed to pieces as if in a fit of rage.

Marg sighed softly.

Although I don't understand it, I'm now completely certain that an intruder entered the maze while I was away.

Moreover, she had a vague sense of unease:

Vending machines and similar items are placed near the warehouse as personal "decorative" items.

In other words, if the intruder had continued forward, they might have already broken into the warehouse...

"Who exactly is it?"

Marg turned around and looked back in disbelief at the path she had come from.

With so many intersections in the maze, how did they get here? What kind of magic did they use?

Could it be that I've fallen behind the times and those universities have developed "anti-maze magic"?

Marge's mind grew increasingly restless, and she quickened her pace.

She kept telling herself: It's okay, it's okay.

If it were an ordinary intruder, they would likely find themselves back at the entrance without realizing it.

If they were magical girls who had intruded, they should have used force to destroy the labyrinth, not emerged unscathed as they are now.

This small stroke of luck lasted until Marg arrived at the warehouse door.

Looking at the warehouse door that had been tightly closed when she left, Marg's unease reached its peak.

"No way……"

She walked step by step toward the warehouse.

It felt like a whole day to walk just 5 meters.

squeak-

She pushed open the heavy iron door.

An eager yet uneasy gaze peered inward, desperately searching for that reassuring blue-level wreckage that seemed as solid as a mountain.

However, what greeted her was a gust of cold wind that swept through the hall, and an empty echo.

Mag's pupils contracted sharply.

There were no remains, no witch genes, and even the black residue on the ground had been swept clean!

The entire underground parking lot was so clean it looked like it had just been mopped eight hundred times by a cleaning lady with a floor scrubber.

Only the perfunctory scratches on the wall remained, resembling scraping.

Marg's heart was completely dead.

"how so?"

Marg couldn't even stay afloat and fell to the ground.

She stared blankly at the "warehouse"—the underground parking lot where she stored her remains.

Inside, there was utter silence. The witch's essence was as calm as a dead sea.

Rather, it's more accurate to say that the witch factor has already dissipated.

As for the wreckage?

Where are the remaining wreckages?

The parking lot was completely empty, with no trace of wreckage, except for some scratches on the walls.

Clearly, the intruder had already emptied the place.

"Who did this...?"

Marg stared blankly at the flickering incandescent light above her head.

My experiences over this period of time flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern:

He was publicly called a "crippled bastard" by Emma Sakura; his clone was forced to perform a dogeko (a form of sexual intercourse) in a lewd manner; and now, even his last trump card, the "warehouse," has been completely stolen...

In a daze, she felt an itch on her cheek.

A weak whimper escaped from her throat.

"Waaaaah..."

She bit her lower lip hard, but still couldn't stop the tears from falling in large drops onto the back of her hand.

Her face was pressed against the rough, jagged wall, and she realized with dismay that she was actually crying.

As a battle-hardened magical girl, as a witch infiltrating the magic bureau—she cried.

The last time I cried was when I realized I couldn't walk anymore.