I Became the Cute One in the Troubleshooter Squad

Objectively speaking, Akashmir was never an easy opponent.

Her race, dark elves, specialized in deadly offensive magic among even the most magic-oriented of elven kind.

On top of that, her backstory marked her as a magical prodigy so rare that one like her was said to be born only once in a millennium.

The most terrifying aspect of Akashmir’s signature Crimson Lightning was its speed.

Ordinary lightning was already faster than the speed of sound, but Crimson Lightning moved at nearly twice that speed, piercing through any obstacle in its path.

In a duel of mages, where being the first to strike often determined the victor, her lightning spell was a nightmare that couldn’t be dodged even if anticipated.

It was no wonder that, despite her young age for an elf, she had risen to become one of the Seven Sins, the highest-ranked officers in the Interracial Liberation Army.

‘But no matter how fast it is, it’s meaningless if it can’t break through my defense.’

To the current me, her lightning was no longer a threat.

Telekinesis, by its very nature, was a force that could manipulate physical matter directly.

Encasing both Greg and myself in a thick, spherical barrier of telekinetic energy meant that her lightning would only scrape away at the outer layer without reaching us.

Of course, this method was far from efficient.

It was like continuously lifting a heavy weight without rest—an impractical and energy-draining way to defend.

If this turned into a war of attrition, I’d be the one to lose.

But that didn’t matter. My goal wasn’t a prolonged battle.

This was a single decisive clash, a short fight where I would give everything to crush my opponent in one blow.

“Argh! Don’t… don’t look at me like that! Stop looking down on me, you damned brat!”

“….”

Rumble!

Akashmir, cornered and enraged by her repeated failed attacks, screamed with bloodshot eyes.

Perhaps memories of her traumatic past—the ones that haunted her even as one of the Seven Sins—were bubbling to the surface.

I knew of her story, but I didn’t feel sorry for her.

Akashmir had long since crossed the point of no return, and she would only continue to stand in my way.

Though I didn’t want to, I had no choice. To protect Greg, I had to remove her here and now.

I didn’t enjoy the thought of killing someone.

Not because of some lofty ideal about the sanctity of life or the value of existence, but because I feared that getting used to killing would mean I could never return to the person I once was.

Still, this reluctance wasn’t a deep conviction or an unwavering principle—it was just how I felt.

If there was something more important to protect, I wouldn’t hesitate to abandon that hesitation.

With my mind made up, I directed pure killing intent at Akashmir, aiming my hand toward her.

‘Telekinesis transmits pure force without the need for any physical medium. If I concentrate all my power into a single point… this should be possible.’

Crack.

A strange sound echoed from above, in the empty air.

Or rather, it wasn’t truly empty.

The particles of air, invisible to the naked eye, were being compressed by my telekinesis into a minuscule point.

As the air was forced into a tighter and tighter space, the collisions between the particles generated extreme heat.

The temperature climbed higher and higher until the surrounding air wavered like a mirage.

Finally, the compressed air reached a temperature of thousands of degrees, forming a plasma—the fourth state of matter.

“Gah… this heat and light…!”

“Ah… ahhhh!”

The atmosphere destabilized, whipping up powerful winds that scattered my hair wildly.

Within the faint storm, the glowing plasma shone like a radiant beacon in the dark.

The intense heat seared the surrounding air, burning anyone close enough to feel its proximity.

Even Akashmir’s Crimson Lightning seemed powerless against the overwhelming energy radiating from the plasma.

It was a clear sign of how this battle would end.

“Damn it alllll!”

“….”

Compressing air to create plasma wasn’t easy.

Even in my enhanced adult form, it had pushed my telekinetic reserves to their absolute limit.

Still, this would undoubtedly serve as the finishing blow—a final strike to end the fight.

When the plasma was released, it burst forward like a massive flash of light, devouring everything in its path.

There was no loud explosion. Perhaps the sound was beyond what human ears could perceive.

The brilliant blue plasma consumed Akashmir’s crimson lightning effortlessly, advancing as it disintegrated everything in its way.

Just before the blazing plasma reached the defenseless Akashmir, I felt a wave of dizziness.

The omnipotent sensation that had filled me drained away in an instant.

My vision spun, and my legs gave out beneath me.

Thud!

“Ow!”

Even through the dizziness, I winced at the sharp pain of my tailbone hitting the hard ground.

What was happening?

As I clutched my throbbing head, struggling to fight the nausea, Tesseract’s weak voice echoed in my mind.

“[Mama… I’m sorry. I’ve used up all my power….]”

I looked down and saw my small, familiar hands.

Sure enough, my weight distribution had shifted back—unstable and childlike once more.

I was back in my original form.

The transformation Tesseract had enabled had finally worn off.

It wasn’t surprising. My recent power came from the rift energy I had painstakingly fed Tesseract over weeks.

But to think it hadn’t lasted even five minutes…

No matter how much stronger I’d become, the efficiency was abysmal.

And, worst of all, it had faded at the most critical moment.

I knew I needed to end it quickly…!

Cold sweat dripped down my face.

Still, I wasn’t entirely without options.

Even though the transformation had worn off, the residual telekinetic energy I’d scattered in the area remained.

If I could harness that… if I could land just one more blow…!

“H-Hah… I’m… alive? That’s right, of course. There’s no way I’d lose… to a nightmare like this!”

Crackle!

Akashmir, spared by the dissipated plasma, stood shakily, scattering crimson electricity in all directions.

Though her magic lacked its earlier grandeur, the sharp, needle-like lightning bolts she released were still deadly.

‘Ugh! I can’t block this!’

Boom!

The makeshift telekinetic shield I hastily cobbled together shattered immediately, and I was thrown backward.

Rolling to a stop, I found myself next to Greg, who was barely clinging to consciousness.

This was bad.

Without Tesseract’s boost, my remaining telekinetic power was insufficient to hold off Akashmir’s attacks.

Even though she was battered and drained of magic, she still had enough strength to finish us both.

It was a desperate, hopeless situation.

“Yuria, are you okay? Urgh… I’ll handle this. Let me… try.”

“….”

What are you going to do in that condition? There’s no way it’ll work. Are you stupid or what?

I lightly smacked Greg’s back in protest, but his thick orc skin meant my hand ended up stinging instead.

Thud. Thud.

Akashmir, battered and barely holding herself together, staggered forward.

She didn’t have much magic left, but it seemed she intended to make sure we couldn’t escape, moving with the slow, deliberate finality of a grim reaper.

This wasn’t good. Not at all.

As I pushed myself off the ground, frantically searching for a way out, the sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the tense atmosphere.

“That’s far enough.”

The voice drew everyone’s attention.

When I turned toward its source, my heart leapt at the sight of a familiar figure.

A man in a torn dress shirt and slacks, his black hair disheveled and his face bearing clear exhaustion.

Even battered, there was no mistaking him—it was Raven.

He stood on high ground, forcing everyone to look up at him.

Akashmir’s face twisted into a scowl.

“You… that human from earlier. How did you make it back? And what about Urakan?”

“Well… this happened.”

“…! You!”

Raven responded casually, tossing something large off his shoulder.

Thud!

The object landed with a heavy crash, kicking up a cloud of black dust.

It was a massive werewolf, unconscious and utterly defeated.

Urakan.

The realization made my chest swell with relief. Raven had won.

I knew I could count on you!

Clenching my fists in excitement, I couldn’t hide the sparkle in my eyes.

As I celebrated, Greg suddenly threw a large coat at me.

Huh? What’s this for? Do I look cold or something?

I tilted my head in confusion, but Greg, wincing through his pain, explained.

“I heard the story. You’re hiding your true identity from Raven, right? Use this to cover yourself.”

“…!”

Oh no.

He was right—I wasn’t wearing my mask or cloak.

And I’d sneaked into this situation against Raven’s orders.

If he realized the truth, things would get complicated fast.

Quickly bowing in gratitude, I threw the oversized coat over myself like a makeshift robe and used telekinesis to retrieve my fox mask from the ground.

While I scrambled to conceal myself, Raven and Akashmir faced off, exchanging words like two predators sizing each other up.

“Take him and leave,” Raven said, motioning toward Urakan. “There’s a bullet lodged in his heart, but he’s a werewolf. If you hurry and treat him, he’ll live.”

“Hmph. And why would I care? Whether he lives or dies is none of my concern. Letting you escape is the real problem.”

“Is that so? You don’t look like you’re in great shape yourself. You really want to push this to the end? I’m not exactly feeling hopeless about my chances here.”

Rumble.

The tension between them was palpable, their sheer presence making the air feel heavy and unbreathable.

But ultimately, Akashmir relented.

Urakan was a fellow member of the Seven Sins, and losing even one of them would be a devastating blow to the Liberation Army, which prioritized quality over quantity.

Additionally, Akashmir had exhausted most of her mana fighting me. In her current state, she couldn’t guarantee victory against Raven, who had just taken down Urakan.

“Tch. Annoying. So, so annoying. Remember this—I’ll repay this debt someday.”

Scowling in frustration, she hoisted Urakan by the scruff of his neck and retreated.

As her presence and the surrounding Liberation Army forces faded into the distance, Raven let out a sigh and leapt down to our level, landing gracefully despite the weight of his exhaustion.

“Man, I nearly ran out of special bullets fighting that werewolf,” he said, brushing dust off his coat. “Good thing they backed off. Hey, Greg, your lady friend’s safe and sound.”

“…Thanks. I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.”

“I—I can’t thank you enough. I don’t even know how I’ll repay this debt….”

“Don’t worry about it,” Raven replied, waving off their gratitude. “When the Liberation Army’s involved, it’s inevitable. Better to deal with this than let someone who can repair artifacts fall into their hands.”

Peeking cautiously from beneath Greg’s oversized coat, I surveyed the scene.

There stood Raven, battle-worn but unyielding, alongside a slender woman with narrow, squinting eyes.

Wait… isn’t that Karen?

Karen, the arachne artisan capable of repairing any artifact.

So she’s the craftsman Greg mentioned?

This unexpected connection wasn’t something even the original story had revealed, and the realization filled me with curiosity.

Before I could fully process it, the conversation ended, and the group’s attention turned toward me.

I stiffened as Raven’s sharp eyes flicked in my direction.

Suspicion flickered in his gaze as he spoke in a calm but pointed tone.

“And you… who might you be?”

“…?”

Wait, did he just smirk? Or am I imagining things?

Despite his serious expression, something about his demeanor felt off.

I tilted my head slightly, utterly puzzled.