I think it’s been ten years.

You know, magic is something else. It means I can surpass the bodily limitations of humans: lift ginormous boulders with a single finger, dash twice as fast as a horse, leap higher than a house.

That said, I’m no match for nukes. Well, I know my defenses will increase with my magical capacity, but have you seen the firepower of those weapons on Earth? There was a time when I contemplated forgetting about them entirely, ’cause we don’t have nukes in this world.

But what good is a master puppeteer who settles for less?

No good. Not at all.

That means my next mission is to become strong enough to beat weapons of mass destruction. After extensive research and training, I found one potential solution, which I’ve been incorporating into my daily experiments.

Oh yeah. And it seems I’ve been born into a noble family. For generations, members of this family have trained to become dark knights, who use magic to power up and slay enemies in battle. And as my family’s rising star of a son (…NOT), I’m living my days as your average apprentice. After all, shadowbrokers need to be extremely selective about when, where, and to whom they reveal their powers. Yeah…I’ll lie in wait until then.

I know I’m not exerting my true potential and that I am cutting corners, but I learned some skills as an apprentice that have come in handy. Like how magic is used on the battlefield in this world. It’s been a good opportunity for me to reflect on my own techniques.

To be completely honest, it’s clear to me the fighting styles from my past life were a hundred times more logical and refined than the ones here. I mean, look at any contemporary martial arts battle. These fighters rebuke unnecessary movements, drawing from various combat schools and whittling them down to the crème de la crème. This creates the conditions for the “perfect” fight. It relies on the rules of the game, of course, but this mental attitude can be used to identify the best of the best in any situation.

And then consider this world. First and foremost, their fighting techniques stay in their country of origin. Which means different schools of combat don’t cross borders. Plus, there are certain secret skills that countries won’t allow out of their jurisdiction—not that we’d be able to spread them to begin with, since no forms of media are readily available to us. This means we can’t combine techniques from other forms of fighting, much less reject or improve our own.

If I had to describe this system in one word, I’d call it unrefined.

But there’s one fundamental difference between the two worlds. That’s right: magic. It completely changes the baseline of physical performance.

Take physical strength, for example.

I can lift someone up with one hand, which means any knowledge about hand-to-hand combat and wrestling, or “ground fighting,” goes out the window. Even if we’re in a mounted grappling position, I can soar through the air by flexing my abs. If I’ve got my foot hooked on an opponent in an offensive guard, I can blast them off me by activating my leg muscles. Yeah. Ground fighting is out of the question.

It’s like how humans have their method of combat and gorillas have a breed of their own. And I’ll just leave it at that.

There are also differences in the distance and speed at which combatants step into their attacks—meaning it’s harder to predict their movements in battle. This might be the most important thing. I mean, martial arts are all about reading your opponent at an appropriate range. The angle, position, and distance of your attacks are everything.

It took me a while to get the hang of the last one, especially because these fighters attack from afar. Like sixteen feet apart. I mean, I guess I get it. They’re lightning fast and take ginormous steps, and I’d just assumed this was their way of fighting…until I realized it was to compensate for their poor defense tactics.

I’m sure this is relatable to all martial artists: Those who can’t guard will stand too far from their opponents.

It’s really scary to get hit. I get it. It’s tempting to retreat to where your opponent can’t reach you. But this results in a contest where one fighter attacks and the other retreats, and vice versa, which is a real snore. You call this outboxing? Try again. This is just an exercise of running back and forth.

It doesn’t matter if the fighters are five or a hundred meters apart. They can’t land a decent hit either way. It could be six or seven or ten meters—it’s all the same.

This has been a public service announcement to close the gap and duke it out.

But once you cross a certain threshold, one millimeter can make a huge difference. And it stands at the exact point where I can both land a blow and react to an attack. Throw in other factors like the angle of my hits, and the slightest turn can mean an advantage—or a disadvantage. The narrowest of margins is the best range between two fighters.

A battle shouldn’t be about one combatant dashing in sixteen feet and the other leaping back nineteen.

I guess I came into this whole thing with an idea of what to expect from other worlds, which—compounded with my unfamiliarity with magic—left me confused about their combat scene. But, eh, I’ve gotten my bearings straight as of late. It’s all chill now.

I train every day at home, where our dad basically directs us on how to throw down, and I grapple with my older sister. I know she’s only two years older than me, but she has natural talent, according to everyone else. If she keeps it up, she’s the one who will take over as head of the family, which isn’t uncommon in this world, since magic can make women powerful enough to become the heir.

“Geez, you’re so strong…,” I whimper every day as she kicks my ass.

But I can’t win. If I want to become a shadow commander, I’ve got to establish myself as the most average of all background characters.

***

That’s how I’ve been living out my day-to-day. Tack on lessons about how to act as an aristocrat and hanging out with people to secure my place as a low-profile extra, and I’ve barely got any free time during the day.

Which means the only time for me to train is after everyone else has gone to bed, late into the night. I may be cutting into my beauty sleep, but I’ve been using magic to recover super-quick and meditation to catch some z’s in new ways. And now, I’ve pretty much got short sleeper syndrome. I make it work.

Okay, time to get down to business. I blast through my usual training regimen in the forest. I’ve got something special planned today.

I heard that rogues have taken up residence in the ghost town nearby. According to my investigation, it’s a large gang of thieves—and the perfect opportunity to test my new weapon.

I take down bandits here and there. But a whole group of criminals? That’s the event of the year. And I’m always short on sparring partners, so I welcome evildoers with open arms.

Oh, please, please, please infest this place with more crime!

I think it’s standard for villages to try to deal with offenders on their own terms, but they mostly get away scot-free. I mean, our judicial system is in the city, which is why I’ve decided to take the law into my own hands.

Today marks the historic day of my first official battle with my newest weapon. I’ve been experimenting with it for months and call it the “slime bodysuit.”

Allow me to explain.

We can use magic in this world to strengthen our bodies and weapons, but there are energy losses when it’s transferred from one form to another. For example, if I run one hundred currents of magic through an average steel sword, only 10 percent of them will be of use in combat. A whopping 90 percent is lost. Even a mithril sword, which is known to be compatible with magic. It’s considered high-end if it performs at 50 percent capacity.

That’s when slimes caught my eye. A slime is a magical being that uses energy to change form and wobble from place to place. According to my research, I’ve found they have a conductivity of an astonishing 99 percent. On top of that, they’re in a liquid state, which means they can change their shape at will.

I started testing slime jellies after capturing and crushing their cores—easily more than a thousand of them. In fact, I pushed them to the brink of extinction in my area by killing too many and had to go on an expedition to find more.

The jellies are easy to handle and strong, to boot. I successfully molded the slime into a wearable bodysuit, which is super-lightweight and silent, unlike armor. Plus, it almost, like, supports my movements? And I’ve given it killer defenses, of course.

As for right now, I’m wrapped in a black slime bodysuit. It’s a simple, no-frills getup that fits my body perfectly, except for eyes, nostrils, and mouth. I’m virtually indistinguishable from the criminal in a certain famous detective manga.

I might want to think up a more suitable design when I’m intervening in a scheme as a full-fledged shadowbroker.