The Last Magic Chapter 19

19 Interview 1

The general public regards Nagumo Sakurako as a "brilliant artist," but among fellow sorcerers, opinions are sharply divided.

Some criticize her, saying, "She devalued the mystique of magic by spreading magical videos across the world." Others praise her, declaring, "She embodies the way of the modern sorcerer."

The former group consists mostly of older sorcerers from before Sakurako’s rise, while the latter is primarily made up of the newer generation of sorcerers who emerged after her.

The newer generation could perhaps be called "SNS-native Gen Z sorcerers." They have no reservations about showcasing magic through videos and social media. On the other hand, the older sorcerers, due to the nature of their work, prefer to keep magic a secret. (For example, fortune-teller sorcerers don’t want people to know how difficult it is to perform accurate divinations with magic.)

This could be described as a generational conflict among sorcerers.

Yet, despite their differences, there is one thing both sides agree on:

—There is no one as purely devoted to magic as Nagumo Sakurako—

Even those who criticize her say with a bitter expression:

"No sorcerer works as sincerely as she does. Any sorcerer who watches her videos can see that. She must be honing her craft to wield the Last Magic one day."

Then, with a hollow laugh, they shake their heads and add:

"How foolish."

But when asked what exactly is foolish, they all fall silent.

The existence of the Last Magic has long been the subject of rumors. Some say it grants precise prophecies, while others claim it can alter the world itself. At one point, a false rumor—"The Last Magic will destroy the world"—even led to witch hunts.

In truth, Sakurako’s grandmother once attempted to cast the Last Magic on live television. But even after reviewing the footage, nothing seemed to happen.

So, what exactly is the Last Magic that Nagumo Sakurako seeks?

And what should the future of sorcerers look like?

I requested an interview with Sakurako as a representative of the new generation of sorcerers, though I honestly never expected her to accept. She is notoriously guarded—her private life is a mystery, and even her residence is unknown. It was clear she had no love for people like me, affiliated with mass media. Then again, it wasn’t just her. sorcerers, by nature, are reluctant to speak about themselves.

Yet, against all odds, I received word that she had agreed. Apparently, Sakurako herself had read one of my nonfiction books and decided, "If it’s that kind of content, then sure."

In preparation, I interviewed as many sorcerers as possible. My overall impression? They were all eloquent, sharp-witted, cautious—and eccentric. It reminded me of magic’s tumultuous history.

Worshipped like gods in ancient times, persecuted in the Middle Ages, and scorned as frauds in the modern era.

Despite it all, they survived, using every means necessary to coexist with magic. Their struggles were likely far greater than what ordinary people like us could imagine.

In fact, even among magical bloodlines, many chose not to become sorcerers. Sakurako’s mother was one such person. After a major terrorist attack in Japan was linked to a cult with deep ties to sorcerers, the entire community suffered reputational damage, leading many to abandon the path. That generation saw many such dropouts—but their children’s generation is now reviving the craft.

And Sakurako is their symbol. She is less a traditional sorcerer and more of an influencer with millions of followers—a great performer, if you will.

When I met her in a hotel room as arranged, she carried an otherworldly presence.

She wore a white-dominated kimono. Her long black hair and polished pale skin framed a face that was striking, though not classically beautiful—more mystically alluring.

Perhaps that was just my bias, having watched her videos countless times and even attended her live performances. Her shows were meticulously designed to maximize her charm, leaving audiences spellbound. Her devoted fans, scattered worldwide, practically deified her.

Yet, the Sakurako sitting across from me simply smiled softly and said:

"Please go easy on me."

The sudden warmth was like a beautiful statue coming to life—a glimpse of her human side. So this is what a witch is like, I thought.

Beside her stood a manager-like woman around her age, watching me intently as if shielding Sakurako.

Steeling myself under that gaze, I began the interview.

—First, could you tell me about your upbringing?

"That’s a tough question right off the bat. Ah, not in the way you’d expect—it’s just that there’s nothing remarkable to tell. Especially when I was little. My parents weren’t sorcerers, so I was born and raised normally. Nothing unusual. The only thing was… my grandmother was a sorcerer. If I had to pick something, I was fascinated by the magic she showed me. I thought, 'I want to use magic too.' That’s about it."

—So your grandmother inspired you to become a sorcerer?

"Yes and no. …Sorry, I’m not trying to be cryptic. It’s just that it wasn’t only her influence. I did want to be like her, but at first, it wasn’t a strong conviction—just a child’s simple admiration."

—Then what did make you pursue magic?

At this question, Sakurako exhaled deeply, and the manager’s brow furrowed slightly.

"...A friend. I did it for a friend. When I was little, people said magic wasn’t anything special. Because of my grandmother, I wanted to argue, 'Magic is amazing!' But I didn’t have the courage to defy everyone. In fact, I was a bit contrary back then—I’d even say things like, 'Magic’s no big deal.' But in elementary school, I made my first real friend, and she told me, 'Magic is incredible. Even a 10-second miracle is enough.' Her words saved me. That’s why I decided to become a sorcerer."

—You seriously decided that in elementary school?

"Well, not exactly. More accurately, it wasn’t so much 'I want to be a sorcerer' as 'I want to use magic.' At first, I just wanted to make my friend happy by performing for her. So I studied magic in school. Maybe I was rebelling against my parents, too—I was pretty blatant about it. Looking back, I probably didn’t need to go that far. I should’ve enjoyed school life more honestly."

Her gaze drifted to the hotel window, as if recalling her younger self.

—When did you first succeed in using magic?

"Sometime in middle school, I think. First, I had this feeling —like something was about to click inside me. So I invited that girl to the seaside embankment near my house to show her my first magic."

—Did it work?

"Hard to say. It was my first time, so it took a while to take shape. But she waited patiently, her eyes full of curiosity—never fading. That actually made me more nervous."

Sakurako smiled faintly.

"But in the end, I managed it. A tiny flame, no bigger than a matchstick. It was almost embarrassing, having dragged her all the way to the ocean just for that. But she was overjoyed—crying, 'Amazing! Amazing!' That was probably the happiest day of my life. No live performance in a packed stadium has ever filled my heart like that."

For a moment, Sakurako looked lost in bliss—until the manager interjected.

"Sakurako-san, comparing it to your live shows might upset some fans. Please be mindful of your wording."

"Ah, right. Thanks, Ayano. Then, let’s pretend I didn’t say that."

Like a TV personality, Sakurako mimed scissors cutting the air—an unexpectedly cute gesture.

Meanwhile, the manager, Ayano, seemed displeased with the direction of the conversation.