The cards were on the table.
Training was one thing, but this was far more important.
Whose pockets did the money from Lightweaver's merchandise actually end up in?
If she didn't get to the bottom of this, Qiluo wouldn't even be able to sleep peacefully at night!
Star-trail's ears twitched slightly toward Seina, waiting for her answer.
Seina hadn't expected Star-trail to ask about something like this, and she thought about it seriously for a moment.
“I don't know the exact process, since the agency has a dedicated licensing department to handle that. But my sister said the Association is actually pretty fair to Magical Girls when it comes to licensing. Fifteen percent of the merchandise revenue goes directly into your personal account.”
She looked a bit embarrassed as she reached this point. “My sister said that when she first debuted, she received a licensing payment and thought the finance department had made a mistake. She went to ask her manager, only to find out it was her share of the merchandise sales from two quarters ago.”
“Because the amount was several times higher than she expected, she checked the itemized statement over and over again, only feeling relieved after confirming they hadn't overpaid her.”
She gestured in the air. “I haven't received any yet, but the agency said they'll start once the hype from my debut stabilizes. When that happens, I should be able to get my own share too, right?”
“Even though it definitely won't be as much as my sister's, even if it's only enough to buy a few cups of milk tea, it'll still be the first income I've earned myself as a Magical Girl. That would feel completely different.”
After saying this, she turned to look at Star-trail, only to find it looking deeply lost in thought.
...Fifteen percent.
Fifteen percent went straight into a personal account. The rest was probably split between the agency and the Association, with whatever was left going back into operating costs.
Star-trail tilted its head to look at Seina. Given her strength and the agency's promotional push, her merchandise would sooner or later line the shelves of every major venue.
“What if the person isn't registered?”
“...What?”
Seina looked up.
“If a certain Magical Girl doesn't have any files in the Association's system, but her merchandise is already circulating in the market, where does that licensing money go?”
“Eh? That... I don't know either. The Association's system should automatically identify them, right? If it can't find the corresponding person, the funds will probably be temporarily frozen in the Association's account until they come to claim it. But that kind of situation must be really rare, since every Magical Girl gets a file automatically created after they register.”
After she finished, she stared at Star-trail, a layer of confusion gradually rising in her eyes. “Why are you suddenly asking about this? Are you asking on behalf of some unregistered Magical Girl? Or did you get another contractor?!”
“Just curious.”
Although they hadn't known each other long, she had already figured out Star-trail's temperament.
“Oh right, should we ask Senior Snowrealm if she gets them?”
As they spoke, they arrived at a fork in the road. Snowrealm was standing in front of a vending machine, looking up as she heard their footsteps.
Seina waved to her from a distance.
“Senior Snowrealm! It's so good that you're still here! Do you know what your own merchandise looks like? Have you ever bought your own licensed merchandise? Has the agency paid you licensing fees?”
Snowrealm pulled two cans of strawberry milk from the vending machine's dispensing slot. She handed one to Seina and held the other in her hand without opening it immediately.
“...I've never paid attention to that.”
Seina took the strawberry milk, popped the tab, took a sip, and pointed the can at Snowrealm. “Senior! This is your own licensing income! How can you not care at all? If there's a sum of money sitting in the Association's account unclaimed, wouldn't that be a huge waste?”
Snowrealm popped open her own can as well, looking down at the cold mist rising from the opening.
“When I was fighting, I never imagined that my image would one day be turned into merchandise hanging in stores. To me, seeing my own face turned into a product always feels a bit strange.”
“If people want to buy it... let them. Besides, this income isn't very important to me.”
Seeing the expectant look in Seina's eyes, she spoke the second half of her thought.
Perhaps because they had fought side by side tonight, she felt she could open up a bit more to this junior.
“My allowance is already more than I can spend. Adding licensing fees would only make the numbers in my bank account longer. I don't know how to spend it, and there's nothing in particular I want to buy.”
Seina let out a long sigh, somewhere between envy and a wail.
Back home, Qiluo turned her head to look at her sparse, lonely closet.
She opened her mobile banking app. The numbers on the balance screen made her fall silent for a few seconds before she expressionlessly shut off the screen.
It looked like she needed to put Lightweaver's licensing fees on her agenda as soon as possible.
She would go next time!
No, she would go tomorrow!
And so...
The next day.
The moment the school bell rang, Qiluo stuffed her textbooks into her schoolbag. Rei turned around from the front row, just about to ask, “Do you want to go to that new crepe shop by the station today?”
Only to see Qiluo already standing up with her bag on her back. Tossing out a quick, “I have something to do today,” she strode out of the classroom.
Kizuna, who had her head down organizing her notes, only looked up in time to see Qiluo's back disappear through the doorway.
Truth be told, Qiluo was a little nervous. After all, her identity as Lightweaver was still unregistered with the Association.
Still, the Association wouldn't make things difficult for a Magical Girl who came to register of her own accord, right?
I'm just here to take back the money that belongs to me, not to cause trouble.
Qiluo stood at the entrance of the Association building, looking up at the glass curtain wall embedded with the star-and-moon emblem.
The setting sun bathed the entire building in gold, making it look solemn and proper.
She quickly ran through the worst-case scenarios in her mind.
If...
She would push open the door, announce her code name as Lightweaver, and say she was here to complete her registration.
The receptionist at the front desk would look up, flash her a standard professional smile, and then press a silent alarm under the desk.
Within seconds, the fire doors on both sides of the corridor would drop simultaneously, and a mana suppression barrier would descend from the sky, trapping her right in the center of the registration hall.
A crowd of combat personnel in Association uniforms would pour out from all directions, carrying restraints specifically designed to suppress unregistered Magical Girls.
The leader would shout at her, “Lightweaver! You have used a Magical Girl's image for commercial activities without authorization and are suspected of an illegal Contract Spirit contract. Please cooperate with our investigation!”
Then, she would be locked in a windowless room with mana suppression walls on all four sides, containing nothing but a single table and a lamp.
Sitting across from her would be high-ranking Association officials, laying out all her action records from her amusement park debut onward, asking who she really was and where she came from.
If she didn't answer, they wouldn't let her leave.
Outside, the Wings of Freedom would be running around in a frantic panic...
Standing at the entrance of the Association building, she played this complete disaster scenario through her head from beginning to end, took a deep breath, and pushed open the glass doors.
I can't think like that! At worst, I'll just tear the ceiling off the Association and call down that star of death right now. We can all go down together!
No one is withholding my pay!
If anyone actually dares to stop me, I'll show them exactly what Lightweaver is made of!
The cool air of the Association lobby rushed over her. There weren't many people in the lobby at this hour, save for a young staff member sitting behind the information desk, looking down as she organized a stack of electronic spreadsheets.
Hearing footsteps, she looked up, her gaze landing on Lightweaver.
Her eyes paused on Lightweaver's hair, then swept over her unfamiliar outfit, and finally settled on her calm eyes.
She put down her stylus, pushed her glasses up her nose, and her fingers instinctively reached for the registration form on the desk.
“Hello, are you here to register? Newcomer registration is on the third floor—”
“I'm not a newcomer.” Lightweaver placed her hand on the marble surface of the information desk.
“I'm here for some business. My code name is Lightweaver.”
The stylus in the staff member's hand clattered onto the desk. She stared at Lightweaver for several long seconds, then reached under the desk—
Qiluo noticed this movement and realized it matched her mental scenario.
As expected... are they finally going to make a move on me, an unregistered Magical Girl?!
In that case, I won't hold back either!
Her fingers splayed slightly, ready to release threads of light at any moment.
Lightweaver stared intently at the staff member's hand.
She patiently waited for the alarm. Why not strike first?
Lightweaver felt that by acting second, she would have a valid excuse for self-defense.
Lightweaver held her breath.
Three, two, one...
The expected alarm did not ring.
The staff member's hand lifted.
And then...
And then she realized that the staff member hadn't pressed an alarm, but a walkie-talkie.
“Third-floor registration, please prepare to receive a Magical Girl completing her registration. Code name is—Lightweaver. Yes, that Lightweaver.”
Her voice was kept very low, but she couldn't help but raise it slightly near the end.
After turning off the walkie-talkie, she looked up at Lightweaver, her eyes noticeably brighter than before. She told her that the office at the end of the corridor to the left on the third floor had a "Registration Office" sign on the door, and she could go straight in; the person in charge was waiting for her.
Lightweaver gave her a glance, nodded slightly in thanks, and turned toward the elevator.
Behind her, she heard the staff member grab the landline receiver and whisper, “Guess who just came to register?” but she simply pretended not to hear.
Only when she reached the elevator did she realize what was wrong.
She wasn't here to register!
She was here to demand what she was owed!
Rate on N.U.
