Chapter 141 – Witch Hat

Honestly, the idea of defending against magic sealing with headgear isn’t that off-base.

Quodentz has a wand-like shape.
There are spells that summon and enhance weapons.
Even for people from a magic civilization—who seem like they can do anything with magic—equipment is probably still important.

Hatobato was wearing a hat too. Maybe it had some kind of magic effect?

…Or maybe it was just for style. I mean, the guy was happily stuffing himself with chicken and kimchi while enjoying life in Korea.

In exchange for providing Kinrenka with magic-sealing defense equipment as well, I secured full support for equipment development.

With a single order from Kinrenka’s vines, research materials and experimental supplies poured in from institutions all across Wuhan. I holed up in the inn and immediately got to work. Tsubaki, who kept climbing onto my head or lap and getting in the way, was taken out shopping by Hiyori.

The foundation was the mycelial structure of the pandemic mushroom.

That fungus, which caused massive damage in Japan, infects people, roots itself inside them, and siphons off magic power. In severe cases, it accesses the invisible magic organ in the head and makes magic control impossible.

In principle, it should be the closest thing to magic sealing. Even the Marble Gremlin used in amulets originates from that mushroom, so there might be a connection.

First, I took the mushroom samples and mycelial structure diagrams I got from a Wuhan university, layered them on translucent tracing paper, and broke them down into components.

I did the same with the magnetic field line diagrams used in magic training.

Then I spent a full day comparing the two to find commonalities.

…Got absolutely nowhere.

Well, of course. If something that simple worked, someone would’ve figured it out long ago.

My specialty is “dexterity.” So I leaned into it.

The mushroom absorbs magic through its mycelium. That means the fibers must conduct magic well.

So I had Kinrenka produce as many plant fibers as possible with similar compositions, then wove them together to recreate the mycelial structure.

When Kinrenka saw the model I wove together at insane speed, she recoiled.

“Ugh… creepy!”

“You hate fungi?”

“No, you misunderstand. Your hands are creepy. What is that? That’s not human.”

“Fuhahaha! I am a human precision machine!”

Praise is praise. I’ll take it.

I hummed while making multiple structural variations, then had her run magic through them to check the flow.

All duds.

Even after making 50 variations and tweaking details—nothing.

“Hmm? Maybe it won’t work unless I incorporate Marble Gremlins? If it needs a core, that would make sense. If it only works with living mushrooms, that’d be rough… but let’s try.”

“I get it now,” 

Kinrenka said. 

“You can immediately turn ideas into physical prototypes, and your trial-and-error speed is absurd. If you can compress what would be a year-long research project into a single day just through dexterity, of course you’d invent things faster.”

“In other words, I’m a genius.”

“…Yes. Simply put.”

She smiled a little.
So she’d been looking down on me before, huh? …Well, fair enough.

Development continued for weeks.

With input from Tsubaki and Hiyori—both experienced with magic sealing—we kept refining prototypes.

Tsubaki had inherited strong magic control from her mother and had practiced longer, so she could already use magic sealing. Hiyori gradually improved by studying her.

Kinrenka, meanwhile, gave up early.

“Too hard,” she said.

That didn’t sit right with me.

Hatobato had said magic sealing should be achievable given Earth’s current level of magic technology.

But in reality, even elites like Hiyori and Tsubaki struggled to learn it—and Kinrenka gave up entirely.

There had to be something we were missing.

Still, Earth had its own advantages—like technologies derived from electricity.

With full support and my “build tons of prototypes and gather data” approach, progress accelerated.

After prototype number 900, things finally took shape.

First, I wove a hat using Kinrenka’s plant fibers.

Then I embroidered it with Hollow Silver thread in patterns based on mushroom mycelium.

The pattern ended up looking less like fungi and more like a neural network—or, as Hiyori put it, “a sea of stars.”

At the convergence points, I embedded a Marble Gremlin core made from Hiyori’s blood.

Earlier versions (700–800) caused headaches and nausea—basically cursed equipment.

That was solved by incorporating magnetic structures from magic training.

A theory discovered at the cost of many lives at Tokyo Magic University turned out to be extremely useful here.

Hiyori sat in an armchair wearing prototype #912.

After a moment, she signaled Tsubaki.

“Mi-mi-mi—! …Mi?”

Tsubaki strained, glaring intensely, trying to seal her magic.

No effect.

“Oh? Is it working?”

After trying for a while, Tsubaki gave up.

“Nope. Can’t seal it.”

I threw my hands up in victory and high-fived her.

If even Tsubaki couldn’t break through, then newly-trained Hiyori couldn’t either. Hatobato might be another story, but this was good enough.

“Alright! One month… that took a while.”

“That’s not long at all.”

“But I made the first version of Kyanos in a week.”

“…Then it is long? No, that’s insane. Talking to you destroys my sense of normal.”

The witch hat was perfect.

A wide-brimmed black hat with a bent tip, decorated with one large Marble Gremlin and three smaller ones.

It was secured with a choker using a magical linkage structure so it wouldn’t fall off during battle.

Sure, a circlet would’ve been easier.

But I wanted Hiyori in a witch hat.

That alone made it worth it.

Behold—Hiyori’s final form.

Staff. Ring. Robe. Amulet. Scrolls. Witch hat.

Fully equipped with magic items, she looked exactly like a classic storybook witch.

Perfect.

“Hiyori.”

“Yeah?”

“That looks amazing on you. Seriously.”

She pulled the brim down shyly.

God, that’s cute.

Then Tsubaki tugged on my back.

“Me too. I want that.”

“Oh? Sure, I’ll make you one—”

“No, that. The neck thing.”

“Oh, the choker? Then let’s make it a collar.”

“Mm! Collar!”

Come to think of it, if she’d had a collar before, Hatobato wouldn’t have mistaken her for a wild fire lizard.

A collar proves she’s owned. Protected.

Necessary.

“Wait. You’re putting a collar on her?” 

Hiyori said, dead serious.

“…Yeah?”

“…Mi-mi. Why not?”

She looked completely baffled.

Apparently, from her perspective, that was… a problem.

After a long, awkward explanation—

I got it.

Yeah… walking around with a middle-school-looking girl in a collar and leash would pass the wrong idea.

“…Sorry, Tsubaki. I’ll get you something else.”