What You Can't Do

"So what's the point of practicing this now?"

Chen De's face had gone a little pale.

It was the very picture of burning through too much mental energy in a short time—commonly known as "running out of mana."

He had already blown it up seven times in a row.

The living room was now dotted with silver light like a Christmas tree.

Three were stuck to the ceiling.

One was smeared across the TV screen.

Two hung from the curtains.

Another still glowed on the back of the sofa.

If this happened a few more times, he could probably skip paying this month's electric bill.

He could just set up a venue in the living room and charge admission.

A proper cyberpunk midnight club.

Qubi crouched on the coffee table, its tail swishing rhythmically.

"There is."

"If you can't even make a circle, how are you supposed to make a Magic Formation? How are you supposed to cast magic?"

Chen De froze for a moment.

"A Magic Formation?"

"That's right, a Magic Formation."

"Casting magic requires a Magic Formation as a medium. You can't spend your whole life basic-attacking monsters, can you?"

"The basic structure of a Magic Formation is geometric shapes."

"And the simplest Magic Formation is a circle."

Chen De lowered his head and looked at his hand.

It was trembling as if Parkinson's had struck sixty years early.

Just ten minutes ago, he had not even been able to maintain a straight line for fifteen seconds.

And now this cat wanted him to make a circle?

"You want me to make a circle?"

"Yes." Qubi's green eyes did not blink.

"I can't even control a straight line, and you want me to make a circle?"

"A circle is the most basic thing."

"Doesn't that make it harder? I can't make a straight line, and you want me to make a circle?"

"You've got that backwards."

Qubi's ears twitched.

"A straight line requires you to precisely control the direction of your magic power. It's a one-directional linear output."

"It's like pushing a stone across ice. There's no resistance and no track, so it's easy to veer off course."

"But a circle is a cyclical structure. The magic power will automatically complete a closed loop."

"So theoretically, making a circle is easier than making a straight line."

Chen De blinked, his brain rapidly processing those words.

"Then what was I doing earlier, making straight lines for ages and turning my house into a nightclub?"

"Practicing the fundamentals."

"Couldn't you have taught me the easy stuff first?"

"Hard before easy. You'll thank me later."

"Right now, I just want to flush you down the sewer."

Qubi ignored him.

"Give it a try. Draw the magic power out from your palm, make it go around in a circle, then return it to the starting point."

"Do it as naturally as drawing that zero you got on an exam."

"You're the one who got zeroes! I've never gotten a zero in my life!"

Chen De took a deep breath and chose to compromise.

What else could he do? This damned magical world had no beginner's guide at all. He had to rely entirely on this scheming cat for guidance.

He gathered another ball of magic power.

To be honest, his mental energy was already being stretched thin.

His head faintly throbbed.

How should he describe that feeling?

It was the dull ache of doing three exam papers in a row during finals.

But he still raised his hand.

And slowly let magic power spill from his palm.

Silver-white specks of light began to flow from his fingertips.

This time, he had learned his lesson and slowed down as much as possible.

Upward.

Carefully drawing an arc.

Turning.

Then slowly downward.

He held his breath.

The specks of light wobbled their way back.

They looked nothing like a circle.

They looked more like a drunk man rolling around on the ground.

"Almost there." Qubi's voice was very low, as if afraid of startling him.

Chen De gritted his teeth.

The light was only two centimeters from the starting point.

One centimeter.

Half—

Pop.

The eighth time.

This time, the fragments splattered Qubi's face with perfect accuracy.

Three silver specks of light clung to the white cat's face.

Like sparkling freckles.

The two stared at each other for a second.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Qubi's voice was very calm.

"If I could control the direction, why would I keep blowing it up?"

Chen De shook his hand.

His head hurt even more.

It was not a sharp pain, but an empty, aching pressure.

Like drinking yogurt through a straw, continuing to suck hard even after it was gone.

Other than empty air, nothing came up.

"That should be enough for today, right?"

Rubbing his temples, Chen De took a step back and dropped onto the sofa.

"Your mental energy really is nearly depleted."

Qubi licked its paw.

"For a first attempt, reaching this level is already quite impressive."

Chen De shot it a sideways glance.

"You mean that?"

"I do."

"Then what kind of teaching philosophy had you make me blow up eight times?"

"Practice produces true knowledge."

"Practice produces concussions."

Chen De rested the back of his head against the sofa.

Three silver spots still glowed on the ceiling.

Like three unblinking eyes staring down at him.

"Qubi."

"Mm."

"Tell me honestly."

"What rank am I at right now?"

Qubi jumped onto the sofa.

"Do you want the nice answer or the truth?"

"Give me the truth. Hit me with it."

"Bronze."

"..."

"And Bronze III, at that."

Qubi cruelly twisted the knife.

"Bronze has divisions too?"

"I made them up myself, so you could understand."

"Then what's the highest rank?"

"King."

"How long does it take to get from Bronze III to King?"

"That depends on talent. With talent like yours—"

"How long?"

"Two months to half a year."

Chen De sucked in a sharp breath.

"Then what about normal people?"

"Normal people need at least two years."

"So you're saying I'm already progressing quickly?"

"Extremely quickly. So quickly you could apply for a world record."

Qubi's voice was unusually serious.

"But the problem isn't whether you learn quickly."

"The problem is that Calamities won't wait for you to learn before they come."

Chen De's expression stiffened slightly.

That made perfect sense.

A Calamity's appearance did not depend on his training progress.

This was not a game dungeon that matched difficulty levels.

"Let's not even talk about Lesser Calamities, those minor mobs."

Qubi continued its analysis.

"When you fight Fierce Calamities now, you rely on brute force. You just smash them with magic power, and you really can kill them instantly."

"But Dire Calamities are different. Their strength is on a completely different level from Fierce Calamities."

"The strongest Fierce Calamity can, at most, destroy a single building."

"But a Dire Calamity is different."

"If a Dire Calamity truly appeared and no one dealt with it—"

"It could erase half a city from the map in half a day."

Qubi paused, its green eyes fixed directly on Chen De.

"If a Dire Calamity suddenly popped up in some random corner tomorrow—"

It deliberately dragged out the last word.

Chen De's fingers unconsciously clenched the sofa cushion beneath him.

"With your current Bronze III level, you couldn't even break its defense, let alone defeat it."

Qubi's tail stopped moving.

"When that happens, you'll only be able to stand there and watch."

"Watch other magical girls earn that Dire Calamity-exclusive bounty of eight hundred thousand."

"You won't be able to do anything—"

Silence fell for two seconds.

The expression on Chen De's face slowly shifted from solemn to subtle, then finally twisted.

He instantly sat upright on the sofa.

His back was straighter than it had ever been in politics class.

"Qubi."

"Mm."

"Keep going tomorrow."

Qubi tilted its head, seeming quite satisfied with that response.

"So enthusiastic?"

"Don't worry about why I'm enthusiastic. It's called enlightenment."

"Because it hurt to see eight hundred thousand earned away?"

"Because of my dream."

Chen De patted his chest with righteous conviction.

"Your dream is eight hundred thousand."

"Can you, as a cat, stop stating the truth about interpersonal relationships and how the world works so bluntly?!"

Qubi's lips seemed to curl again.

"Then let me put it another way—your dream is to protect humanity by defeating Dire Calamities, while incidentally earning a reward of eight hundred thousand."

"More or less. The important part is the second half."

"I know."

Chen De leaned back against the sofa.

He stared at the silver patches of light on the ceiling.

The points of light were still glowing.

They would not fade for another two hours.

His living room was now so bright it barely looked like a place for the living.

All it needed was a DJ spinning records.

"Qubi."

"Mm."

"Did other magical girls blow things up like this when they practiced too?"

"Explosions are a normal stage everyone has to go through."

"But most magical girls only blow up two or three times during their first practice."

"I blew up eight times."

"Your magical power is too great. When others blow up, it's like splashing water. When you blow up, it's fireworks."

"So having talent is a bad thing instead?"

"It's not a bad thing. It's just that you're likely to blow things up a few more times than others while learning control."

"It's like giving you a Ferrari when you only have a C1 license."

"The car is a good one."

"It just tends to crash into walls."

Chen De rolled his eyes.

"That analogy is pretty fitting."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."