The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 1 (5 page)

“Well, if I’m wrong, I apologize. You see that sort of thing a lot lately, you know? So just talk it over and… You know, if you’re gonna break up, try to be a tad more quiet about it, okay?”

“I’m
telling
you, it’s not
like
that between us!”

A local resident had called the police at the confrontation. Now the Devil King and his rival, Hero, were at the station, getting the riot act read to them.

It took an hour or so of lecturing about the perils of domestic violence before the two of them were finally released.

Emilia plodded wearily forward as they exited. The ordeal had apparently caused her some measure of emotional pain.

“…I’m letting you go today. But next time…that’ll be
it
.”

“Oh, what, you planning to bring a rolling pin next time?”

Emilia chose to ignore the jab.

“Hmph. I hope you’re happy you’ve been granted an extension to your life. And this evening hasn’t been a waste at all. I memorized your home address, I’ll have you know. Hope you weren’t expecting to get a full night’s sleep for the rest of your life.”

“You’re sounding more like a mob boss than a Hero.” Even as Maou winced at her brazen threat, a question suddenly popped into his mind. “Oh, by the way, what about my umbrella?”

For a moment, Emilia’s face betrayed her inability to comprehend the question. Then, she let out a haughty, nasal laugh.

“You said I could toss it out once I was done. So I did! I made sure to thoroughly mutilate it before I did, too.”

“Oh, that’s just
mean
!”

The anguish was sincere, from the bottom of his heart. Thanks to all the neighborhood cleanup efforts around Shibuya ward, it was growing difficult to find abandoned umbrellas lying around.

“And why would a Hero such as myself gleefully accept an umbrella from the Devil King himself? May my family be cursed for generations if I did! I’d never keep such a putrid, tainted cancer near me for even a
second
!”

To prove the point, Emilia took out a handkerchief, one in a strangely cutesy pink color, and began to wipe her hands.

“I am the sworn enemy of the demon race and all that take comfort with it. Starting tomorrow, you’d best watch yourself on the streets at night!”

With this final, rather unheroic flourish, she disappeared into the Hatagaya night, her footing still a bit unsteady.

“…Well,
that’s
all I need.” The Hero had pursued the Devil King across multiple worlds. But why? It hardly seemed like anything important had happened at all. His even still had work tomorrow.

The day was already starting to break as he muttered to himself on the way back home.

“Man, Ashiya’s gonna be
pissed
if he hears that girl is here. Maybe I should keep it under my hat for a while.”

He found out the next morning.

Since Maou’s shift began in the afternoon, this meant the secret was revealed as they were eating the plain omelet—no filling, no ketchup, no nothing—Ashiya made from the slightly distressed medium-sized eggs he’d purchased at discount last night.

The two of them exchanged glances as the doorbell rang. MHK had just visited the previous day. The assorted newspaper salesmen had long since given up on the place.

The rent and phone bill were deducted straight from their account. Which meant that it had to be some new door-to-door solicitor.

Neither bothered to even entertain the possibility of any mail or packages addressed to them. That was reality for you.

“Yes? Who is it?” Ashiya called out from behind the door. They couldn’t pretend to be out; the kitchen’s ventilation fan was running.

“‘Who is it?’ Well, thank you
very
much for such a polite greeting! I’ve found you, Alciel! Last of the Four Great Demon Generals!”

Maou choked in response. Scrambled eggs flowed down his windpipe, throwing him into a coughing fit that sprayed bits of egg up into his nose. It was both an agonizing and rather nonthreatening response.

“Wh-who’re you?!”

In an instant, Ashiya jumped away from the door, ready for battle.

“Who? I believe the last time you asked me that, we were battling each other in Devil’s Castle. You haven’t forgotten, have you? The name of the Hero, Emilia Justina?”

“The Hero Emilia!”

Panicked, Ashiya turned toward Maou, who was tearing up as he tried to unclog egg fragments from his own nostrils.

“Now, come! Open this door and prepare for your destined fate!”

It was difficult to believe, but there was no one in Japan besides Maou who would know the name Alciel. He had had concerns about being pursued by potential Devil King assassins, but who could have expected the Hero herself to reach them first?

The reality of the situation threw him at first, but even now, Alciel was the most gifted of the demon forces’ strategists. He had an insider’s knowledge of every one of Emilia’s moves, and he already boasted a full grasp of his enemy’s weaknesses.

Checking the lock on the door, Ashiya slid the chain into place, shut all the windows that looked into the outside corridor, and turned off the ventilation fan. “Your Demonic Highness! It’s the Hero! The Hero is here!”

“Ah…! Wait! Alciel, wait! I’m telling you, open up!”

There was a tone of panic to the Hero’s voice, as she realized the nature of his tactic.

“Yeah, I know, Ashiya. Hey, get me a tissue.”

“The Devil King! You’re in there, too, are you? Give it up and open this door!”

The doorbell rang incessantly, beating a predictable rhythm. Ashiya paid it no mind.

“What should we do, Your Demonic Highness?! The Hero is right at our doorstep!”

“Ugh, I can’t get this bit out of my nose. Yeah, we met yesterday. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Wh-what?!”

Maou’s distracted remark as he pinched a nostril shut was enough to stun Ashiya into silence.

“She attacked me over at that intersection on the way from work. Then someone reported us, so we got taken in by the cops. That’s why I was late last night.”

“The most humiliating moment of my life! They…they thought I was the Devil King’s
girlfriend
!”

They could feel the waves of anger radiating from behind the door. Ashiya’s eyes shot toward it for a moment, but quickly turned back at Maou as he half-shouted his response.

“Why, my liege?! Why did you not tell me sooner?!”

“Well, I mean…like, no one got hurt, so… Besides, she’s kind of in the same boat we are.”

“The same boat…? Meaning?”

Maou inserted a probing finger into his nose to clear out any rogue egg bits remaining.

“She recognized me as the Devil King Satan yesterday, but she couldn’t bring out her sword. That’s made out of Holy Silver, right? The heaven-born metal that’s imbued with holy power? She couldn’t summon it. You know what that means?”

“…It means she cannot afford to waste her holy power? So she’s lost the ability to recharge her own powers as well!”

“Yeah. Not that she’d mind using up all her holy force to defeat the Devil King, though. However, we’ve got one decisive advantage on our side.”

“Her…life span, right?”

The ball of anger on the other side of the door began stamping her feet in disgust. It was loud enough to raise serious concerns about the cheap wooden floor giving in on her.

“Even if she killed both of us, there’s no guarantee she’ll regain enough holy force to get out of this world before she dies. The humans on Ente Isla, they’re lucky if they reach fifty. Of course, women in Japan average a lot higher than that, so
maybe
her mideighties or so. But she’ll be old and frail by that time.”

“So the Hero would lack the strength to control the Gate as well, then.”

“Basically, yeah. Here, you mind letting her in? She’s starting to cry out there.”

The sniffling was loud enough to be audible from beyond the door.

“What a
dump
!”

Emilia’s first reaction upon entering was as heroic sounding as she could muster with a beet-red face and bloodshot eyes.

Ashiya was ready to launch into an angry response, but Maou stopped him, knowing full well she wasn’t exaggerating.

“Hey, at least it isn’t cluttered, right? We can’t even afford any stuff to clutter it up with.”

“I find it hard to believe that two men could truly bear to live here…”

“I like my Devil Castles more functional than comfortable.”

Maou, nasal passages finally cleared, had returned to his omelet.

“Not much of a breakfast there, either.”

“Dude, Ashiya’s a genius at this. He makes breakfasts out of practically nothing. Like magic.”

“I thank you for your praise, Your Demonic Highness.”

Ashiya knelt meekly behind Maou as his liege sat cross-legged at the table, running his chopsticks against the plate to wipe up the crumbs. Emilia rolled her eyes in exasperation. What kind of ridiculous charade was this? The Devil King and his faithful general, savoring this meager slop?

“Are you crazy? The Devil King, eating eggs and nothing else for breakfast? You could at
least
buy some bread to go with it.”

“We’re poor, all right? Is that bad?”

Maou’s defense was sorely lacking.

“Yes! Yes, it is! I clawed my way over to a completely different world just so I could kill these two dirty hobos? This is horrible…!”

The sight of Maou sitting cross-legged in front of his beat-up
kotatsu
table, enjoying breakfast in his boxers and sweat-stained running shirt, finally made Emilia break down in tears.

Six tatami mats lined the floor of the apartment, bronzed over time by the rays of the sun. Against one wall, a cheap-looking three-level particle-board shelf, sitting on top of some cardboard to keep from damaging the tatami mats. On the other wall, a closet, the sliding doors similarly discolored by the sun.

There was no balcony, no screens over the windows; just a few rusted iron bars welded to the other side. Bits of laundry—mostly shapeless, solid-color T-shirts, threadbare underwear, and socks—were draped over the window frame, taking every available inch of space. The washer that cleaned them was outside in the corridor, too large to actually install in the apartment. Looking around, Emilia spotted a single lonely door, the paint peeling off of it. A plastic plate reading “Toilet” hung from it, as if the occupants had trouble remembering where it was. The john was the old Japanese-style floor model, no doubt.

The kitchen counter boasted an array of thin, dull, flimsy-looking plastic accessories, all likely purchased from the hundred-yen store, as well as a few stacks of ceramic bowls and such, none of their designs customized for the season or anything. A garbage bag was thrown into one corner, crammed to the brim with MgRonald packaging, ready for disposal whenever anyone gave enough of a damn to take out the trash.

There was also a stainless-steel trash bin with a funky flower motif, another garbage bag lining the inside. The dents and old packing-tape markings one could spot here and there suggested the bin was a relic from the local thrift shop.

The refrigerator that made the already cramped kitchen even more constrained was a medium-sized model, likely meant for a
single-person household. A MgRonald desk calendar with “Monthly Shifts” written on it was tacked to the door with broken bits of old kitchen magnets.

“I…I live by myself, and I
still
live better than this. You’ve got two of you holding jobs, and
this
is the best you can do?”

Emilia was trying to condemn Maou’s pathetic lifestyle, but Maou’s interest was laid upon a completely different subject.

“By yourself? You don’t have any friends?”

“Shut
up
!”

Without skipping a beat, Emilia threw the nearby tissue box at him. Maou nimbly dodged it, and it harmlessly bounced off a stack of free newspapers and job-search magazines, tied up with plastic twine, before falling with a thud upon the tatami mats.

“The…the archbishop was supposed to join me! We were going to head right back home after you were defeated! And…and
now
look what happened!”

Emilia was the one who decided to pursue the fleeing Devil King through the Gate at once.

She had taken the lead position and plunged inside, but once it swallowed her up, it had suddenly shut itself off, leaving the rest behind.

Her last glimpse of Ente Isla as she looked behind her was the strained face of Olba Meiyer, her friend and one of the six archbishops of the Church, seemingly unable to comprehend what had happened.

“Hmm…”

“What?”

Emi shot a glare at Maou. He shook his head to indicate it was nothing, motioning her to continue.

Once she touched down in Japan, Emilia went through the same ordeal Maou and Ashiya did—conserve what remained of her powers while attempting to build a life in this new world.

The main difference was that her part-time work paid a lot more by the hour than Maou’s, enough to let her afford a fairly decent condo-sized apartment.

“You got a phone?”

“Yeah. Dokodemo.”

She took out a sharp-looking touchscreen device, a high-end one, advertised as offering the power of a modern laptop in the palm of your hand.

“…Well, you win.”

“I win what?”

Maou and Ashiya’s phone was an old, unpopular model that was a pain to navigate and sported a camera that would have been hot stuff thirteen years ago. They had concluded that when it came to a phone, talk and text would be good enough.

“So how long have you been here in Japan?”

“It…uh, hasn’t been a year yet.”

“How old are you this year?”

“Seventeen! So?”

Most seventeen-year-olds in Japan would still be under parental care. They’d be attending high school.

So how could
this
one be living a better, more relaxed life than Maou? It honestly puzzled Maou inside, but he opted not to dwell upon it. It wasn’t like knowing the answer would improve life at all.

“Well, no matter what happens, we’re gonna need to find a way out of this world before we use up our natural life span. I know you found us and all, but we don’t exactly have the cash to move out of here. So, welcome to the new Devil’s Castle. This one-room apartment is all we need to open the first chapter in our new quest for world domination.”

Maou attempted to affect as much bluster as he could, using his chopsticks to point at her as he did. Her expression as she looked around the room was part doubt, part sympathetic compassion, and part natural wariness.

“Do you think you can back up all that junk, though? A Devil King living day to day off menial part-time work?”

“I am not your typical demon, Hero. I know I cannot solve every problem with force alone. If you think I’m willing to live out my
life in Japan, rolling along with my comfortable job, you are deadly wrong.”

“Huh?”

It was Ashiya, unexpectedly, expressing doubt at this statement. Maou ignored him as he himself laughed heartily at Emilia.

“I fully intend to have Japan in my grasp before long.”

Emilia tensed up as the Devil King started to sound the part, for a change. Noticing this, Ashiya steeled himself, preparing for whatever might happen. A single word from Maou was all it would take. After a pause, his master spoke.

“So listen. At MgRonald, if you work hard enough as a part-timer, they have a system where you can become a full salaried employee.”

“…Uh?”

Another word was all it took to immediately break the tension. The quizzical looks on faces of Emilia and Ashiya told the whole story. What did the violent takeover of Japan and the human resources department at MgRonald have to do with each other?