Magical Girl?! But I Was a Dude!

Chapter 6: Canceling a Villain Subscription is Harder Than it Sounds

Chapter 6: Canceling a Villain Subscription is Harder Than it Sounds

The next morning, I woke up with a sense of determination. Today was the day I’d get my life back on track. Well, as "on track" as a gender-bent magical girl could get in an isekai filled with sparkly enemies. The first item on my agenda: canceling the Villain Subscription Program.

I marched down to the village square, staff in hand, ready to take action. Fluffbuns floated alongside me, still giggling from last night’s “Celestial Support Line” fiasco.

"You’re sure there’s no way to just stop the subscription?" I asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

Fluffbuns, looking unusually serious for once, nodded. "I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Villain subscriptions have, uh, ‘complicated’ terms of service."

"Great," I muttered. "Even in a magical world, I’m still dealing with fine print."

I had a vague plan: track down whoever was in charge of the subscription service and demand they cancel it, or at least downgrade it to, like, once-a-month sparkly villain deliveries instead of weekly. But first, I needed to figure out who was behind the whole thing.

"So," I said as we strolled through the village, dodging stray chickens and the occasional cart, "who runs this Villain Subscription Program? Some shady wizard? A sparkle-covered CEO?"

"Actually, it’s run by the Enchanted Delivery Company," Fluffbuns said, its little wings flapping cheerfully. "They handle all magical goods, including villain subscriptions. You can’t miss them. Their headquarters is in the forest, just past the Glittergrove."

I groaned. "Of course it is. Everything in this world is either enchanted, sparkly, or incredibly inconvenient."

With that, we set off toward the Glittergrove. And yes, it was exactly as awful as it sounded. The trees sparkled. The grass sparkled. Even the squirrels sparkled. Every step we took sent glitter flying into the air like a magical glitter bomb had gone off.

"I’m going to be finding glitter in my shoes for the rest of my life," I grumbled, trying to brush some of it off my skirt. "This place is a nightmare."

Fluffbuns didn’t seem to mind. It happily flitted through the sparkling foliage, leaving a trail of glitter in its wake.

After what felt like an eternity of trudging through the world's shiniest forest, we finally arrived at a clearing. In the middle stood a tall, pink building with giant letters on the front: Enchanted Delivery Company.

I squinted at it. "This looks less like a corporate headquarters and more like a giant piece of candy."

Fluffbuns giggled. "They like to keep things… whimsical."

"Whimsical is not the word I’d use," I muttered, but I pushed the door open anyway.

Inside, the place was surprisingly busy. Enchanted delivery drones zoomed around, carrying packages wrapped in colorful ribbons. A receptionist, wearing a uniform that looked like it had been designed by a unicorn on a sugar rush, smiled brightly from behind the desk.

"Welcome to the Enchanted Delivery Company!" she chirped. "How can we help you today?"

I strode up to the counter, trying to look confident. "I need to cancel my Villain Subscription."

The receptionist’s smile faltered for a second before snapping back into place. "Ah, yes, the Villain Subscription Program. I’m afraid cancellations are a bit… tricky."

"Tricky?" I repeated. "You mean impossible."

"No, no, just… complicated," she said, flipping through a thick, glitter-covered booklet titled Terms of Service. "You see, most magical girls don’t realize that by accepting their first free villain, they’ve entered into a binding contract."

I groaned. "So, what do I have to do to cancel it?"

"Well," she said, her voice unnervingly chipper, "you have two options! The first is to defeat the Final Boss that the subscription sends after the twelfth villain. Once you defeat them, the contract is nullified."

I blinked. "Final Boss? Why do I have to wait until the twelfth villain to get rid of this thing?"

"That’s just how the subscription works!" she said, still smiling. "Alternatively, you could fill out a Request for Non-Sparkly Villains form, which downgrades your subscription to non-magical threats."

Fluffbuns fluffed up its wings, clearly interested. "That doesn’t sound so bad!"

I rubbed my temples. "Okay, let’s start with the downgrade. Can I have the form?"

The receptionist nodded, pulling out a sheet of paper that was somehow both pink and glittery. "Here you go! Just fill this out, and we’ll process your request within four to six weeks."

"Four to six weeks?!" I exclaimed. "I’ll be buried under glittery monsters by then!"

The receptionist gave me an apologetic smile. "It’s our busy season. Villains are very popular this time of year."

"Of course they are," I muttered, snatching the form. "Fine. I’ll fill it out, but I’m keeping my options open for this Final Boss thing."

We left the building with the form in hand, and I already felt my frustration mounting. This world was determined to make my life as difficult as possible, and now I was stuck with a glittery contract that might not end until I’d fought a dozen ridiculous villains.

As we walked back through the Glittergrove, I started filling out the form. It was full of the most absurd questions:

"Do you prefer villains with or without capes?" "Rate your preferred level of sparkle on a scale from 1 to 10." "Would you like villains that monologue before battle? Y/N."

I handed the form to Fluffbuns, exasperated. "This is ridiculous. I just want to cancel the whole thing."

Fluffbuns shrugged. "It’s better than nothing! And besides, non-sparkly villains could be a nice change of pace."

"Yeah," I grumbled, "but knowing my luck, they’ll probably just send me some giant, angry chickens."

We made it back to the village just in time to see a new problem unfolding in the square. A crowd had gathered, whispering nervously, and in the middle of it all was—you guessed it—another sparkly monster. This one looked like a giant, glittering octopus, and it was waving its tentacles around like it owned the place.

"Are you kidding me?" I groaned. "It’s not even lunchtime yet!"

Fluffbuns hovered beside me, looking excited. "Oh, oh! Maybe you can try some dramatic posing this time!"

I glared at the little fluffball. "I am not posing. Not for a glittery octopus."

But before I could protest any further, the villagers spotted me and started cheering.

"It’s the magical girl! She’ll save us!"

I sighed, pulling out my staff. "I guess I better get this over with."

As I approached the octopus, it started… jiggling? Was it trying to intimidate me with its wobbly dance moves? Because if so, it wasn’t working. It just looked like a glittery jellyfish having a bad day.

"Alright," I muttered, raising my staff. "Here we go… DULL BEAM!"

A plain, gray beam shot out and hit the octopus square in the face. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly but surely, the sparkle began to fade from its tentacles. The octopus let out a sad, gurgling noise before flopping over, its shimmerless body deflating like a balloon.

The villagers cheered again, and I tried to muster some enthusiasm as I waved weakly.

"That was… anticlimactic," Fluffbuns said, tilting its head.

"Yeah, well," I sighed, "at least it wasn’t covered in fur."

As the villagers came up to thank me (again), I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before the next glittery menace showed up. I still had that form to submit, but four to six weeks felt like an eternity in a world where even the octopuses sparkled.

One thing was for sure: I wasn’t getting out of this villain subscription anytime soon.

"Next time," I muttered to Fluffbuns, "remind me to read the fine print before I accept anything free."