Chapter Two: The Puzzle of the Past
Ash kicked his motorcycle to a stop by the roadside, leaning back against the railing of the narrow river to watch the battle unfolding on the other side.
A gigantic black monster adorned with a sand timer-shaped joke mask slammed its fists into the ground, causing tremors that shook the earth. Despite its massive size, it couldn’t catch its enemies as the pink and blue figures danced like light in the sky, skillfully dodging its attacks, and each counterattack echoed with a dull thud against the creature.
This is the world where Pretty Cure battles the Desert Apostle.
After some time, Ash had begun to understand the “how it works” of this world: as alien invaders, the Desert Apostles extract the withered “Heart Flowers” from the bodies of the lost or those burdened with worries for their evil purposes, turning them into unconscious crystal balls. By combining these with other objects, they create “Desert Beasts,” which are purified and restored to the unconscious individuals by Pretty Cure, allowing them to awaken.
“Go, Desert Beast! Defeat Pretty Cure!”
Standing on a slide and gesturing wildly to command the monster was a brown-skinned woman, one of the officers of the Desert Apostle. Alongside her were a vain tall man and an irritable man obsessed with combat—a classic trio indeed.
“Why does it feel so similar to the last world… ah, whatever, it’s just how these teams usually operate.”
After all, having traveled through so many worlds, critiquing such basic setups felt rather uninteresting now.
Unfortunately, this universe lacked a space patrol, or else Ash would have sent out a message in Ultra writing to give these invaders a taste of their own medicine.
The pink and blue girls united to throw a punch, sending a powerful shockwave that hurled the monster into the river. Ash stepped aside as splashes of water flew where he had just stood.
“I just… I just wanted to play with everyone!” Unlike the Selfish Beast he had encountered earlier, the Desert Beast now lay defeated, holding its head and speaking in a childlike voice.
“But… it’s just because I keep losing, I just wanted to win… In the end, no one would play with me…”
Interestingly, the Desert Beasts tended to inherit some characteristics of their original forms, continuously voicing their inner troubles during battle or when defeated, becoming a kind of truth-telling robot.
“Can’t be helped. Who wants to play with you when you set so many traps in your deck just to win?”
Having observed the monster’s transformation process, Ash was aware of the context, and after a brief remark, his gaze returned to the blue and pink figures.
The girl, wrapped in a sea-blue battle outfit, was bouncing around energetically, clearly one who loved to jump. Behind her, a girl with a dazzling cherry pink ponytail appeared shy and reserved, giving off the impression of a very bashful child.
“Tsk.”
“They call themselves Pretty Cure… but they don’t resemble you at all.”
Familiar figures, familiar voices—they just couldn’t align.
Ash had been in this world for almost three months, idly opening a little-known café in town, where he enlisted Tsukikage Lily, who he had helped, as an employee. He usually entrusted her with the café while he caught up on every new episode of Pretty Cure every week.
But none of that mattered; what truly mattered was that in these three months, he hadn’t lifted a finger once!
“I don’t remember becoming this kind-hearted.”
Looking down at his palm, he opened and then clenched it tightly, the sensation strangely grounding, reminding him of the unreality of it all.
He should be free to do as he pleased, relishing in encounters with interesting characters, whether heroes or villains; that was what made it fun, regardless of winning or losing.
Yet this time was different. The desire to battle still flowed within him, but the exhilaration was absent. Instead, the lively voices of the girls gave his heart an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.
“Me, feeling this way? How disgusting.”
“Is this what you’ve done? Pretty Cure.”
[You have not forgotten everything.]
“I’m still young enough not to have dementia.” With the device crossed over his chest, Ash turned and started walking towards the other side of the river.
“I guess something significant must have happened in the last world for me to feel this much sympathy for them.”
[So what will you do? Will you not join the fight this time?]
“No, just watching doesn’t suit me.” Instead of riding his motorcycle, Ash chose to proceed on foot, quickening his pace lest he miss out.
“In the past, I always unconsciously avoided my own past, as if doing so would prevent me from moving forward. Isn’t that right?”
In the past, all he needed to do was follow his heart’s desires and act without restraint, whether it was bullying heroes or suddenly betraying villains—it was all about spontaneity.
But this time, he didn’t want that. If asked why, perhaps it was because he didn’t want to lose to his own former self.
Unlike previous travels, this time Ash seemed to have found a goal, yet gaps in his memory only allowed him to grasp fragmented pieces, rendering him perplexed. If it weren’t for the excess overload from the last world’s dark echoes that hastened his memory clearing, he was sure he could recall more.
However, the world does not spin based on personal preferences—he had experienced that firsthand countless times.
A sudden smile from a certain blonde girl flashed in Ash’s mind, causing him to falter in his step.
[Are you planning to change yourself?]
“I’ve gone through a lot and gained much, so I want to try a new way of playing this time.”
Previously, finding someone meant fighting or being fought, and though he usually had little interest in the mundane, perhaps this time it would be different?
Hand pressed against his racing heart, he felt the desolate land within him.
If Pretty Cure had changed him in the last world, then perhaps they could do something in this one too?
“But they’re still too young now… I need to slightly alter the strategy.”
In any case, whether for himself or for them, Pretty Cure must grow stronger.
Right, he remembered! Love can empower Pretty Cure, so if he could help them feel love… that could work!
“Who… who are you?!”
With the girl’s nervous questioning, Ash suddenly crouched down and moved his hands in a strange manner, speaking in a strangely whimsical tone.
“A man who fights to find love—”
“Spider-Man!”
“That makes no sense!”
A random sound effect of “stare↑ stare↓ stare↑” echoed in his ears as Lei’s eyes beneath her glasses began to spin in confusion.
“Dude, are you serious?!”
As for Erika, with her blunt personality, she had already sprayed soda everywhere.
