The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 2 (31 page)

I look forward to visiting on the day when we finally surpass you.

Kisaki was deeply offended, of course (“Do I really look that weak to him?!” were her exact words), but since none of it was the flowers’ fault, she decided to place them outside to provide some store décor, along with a sign inviting anyone interested to take them away for free.

Urushihara reasoned that, besides his sudden infatuation with Kisaki, Sariel was sticking around because he had no way to return home.

He had failed in his mission, after all. Flying back to the heavens
after a painful loss to Satan, the Devil King, could apparently place him in serious danger of being banished from his native domain.

Sariel hadn’t infiltrated SFC for any strategic reason. In the end, he simply lacked anything he could sell for money, the way Suzuno did. So he took a job to support himself, just like any other destitute urban outcast.

And as for Suzuno…the scene playing out before Chiho’s eyes told her all she needed to know.

“What are you even doing here, Suzuno? How can you just sit here and relax inside enemy territory like this?!”

“I am here to fulfill the justice that must be done.”

Suzuno smiled at her—this smile laden with hidden meaning, one unlike anything she showed her before.

“I desire to slay the Devil King, of course. But, more than anything, I want to bring Emilia back home and reform the rotten and corrupt Church organization. The Church must remain an icon of truth, a holy place that mankind can confidently place its faith upon. But, as you see, Emilia refuses to return until the Devil King is defeated, yes? So I thought I would weaken him and his generals as much as possible, to make it all the easier for Emilia to strike the final blow when she deems it proper.”

From the ever-prim and upright Suzuno, it sounded like a laudable pursuit. Chiho knew better.

“Ugh! And you think Maou isn’t going to
do
anything about you?!”

Chiho waved her hands wildly as she spoke. The gesture was pointless, given Maou’s obvious disinterest in moving away from the chopsticks jabbed into his face.

Between losing all of his demonic power and most of his stamina that fateful night, combined with the rigors of shift-manager duty and his bitter loss at the hand of Sentucky, Maou was physically and mentally defeated.

What’s more, the police had found the antitheft registration label on the mighty steed Dullahan that Suzuno had flattened in front of Tokyo city hall, earning Maou another home visit from the cops.
The ensuing lecture was the final knockout punch at the end of an already-grueling bout.

In the end, he risked his life, blew his big chance to regain his demonic force, got raked over the coals by Ashiya…and now Suzuno was needling him with her sanctified, holy meals. It was enough to take the wind out of any demon’s stygian sails.

“I’ll cook for Maou, all right?! You don’t have to worry about him, Suzuno, so please, go find a job or something instead of hanging out
here
all day!”

“I am afraid that proposition is a difficult one for me to swallow. This, right now, is my true calling. Now, when the Devil King is at his weakest, is the greatest chance we will ever have!”

“Are you being serious?! You can try to make excuses all you want, but you just want to have Maou eat your home-cooked food, don’t you?!”

“Hohh? Is that how you see this? Do you think the heart I placed in his bento box is a sign of my true love for Maou, rather than its true origin as a symbol of the Holy Grail as it pervades and destroys the Devil King’s body?”

“I… What? No! No ‘true love’ at all! Please! You’re the one who thought
osechi
cuisine was standard bento-box food! Quit making all this junk up!”

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“Stop playing dumb! Come on, Maou! You don’t need to sit here and let your sworn foe try to kill you! I’ll have my mom teach me how to make all kinds of dishes!”

“Oh? Well, well! We must come visit your mother to pay our respects sometime, Sasaki!”

Ashiya, ever the househusband, chimed in as he cleaned the kitchen floor.

“Think it over carefully, Devil King. If you refuse my food now, I will forever cut off your supply!”

“What, is that your attempt at
threatening
him or something?! Don’t listen to him, Maou! I’ll take
real
good care of you, I promise!”

“…Man. Weird how it’s starting to look like they’re fighting over him, huh?”

Urushihara lazily gave his own two cents, elbow planted on his computer desk.

“It’s like he’s some kind of hot-to-trot playboy or something.”

The two girls paid no mind as their slightly off-kilter conflict continued to heat up.

“Well, which is it? Chiho or me?”

“Whose food are you gonna eat?!”

Confronted by the pair, Maou flashed an utterly exhausted look as he muttered softly.

“Please…just let me enjoy some breakfast, at least…”

His plaintive request was blown to bits in the next moment.

With a great crash, the door to the Devil’s Castle was kicked open. The group immediately turned toward the front of the room, only to find:

“Luuuuciiiferrrrrr…”

Emi Yusa, angry enough to transform into demi-angel form at any moment.

Framed by the morning sun, Emi stomped into the room, all but breaking the floorboards underfoot as she grasped a small, boxlike object.

Urushihara grimaced when he saw it, sidling up against the wall in a futile attempt at escape.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Hiding this inside my bag?!”

It was the GPS device discussed just a moment ago, the one that pinpointed Emi’s location.

“That, uh… You know…”

“No, I
don’t
know! Why did you put this in a woman’s bag? So you could find out where I was at all times, you stupid shut-in fallen angel?! You’re gonna pay for being such a goddamn creep all the time!!”

The freight train of Emi’s blitzkrieg attack struck Urushihara pallid with fear. The rest had already returned to the pre-Emi business.

“Hey! Ashiya! Stop Emilia for me!”

“It is not my business to.”

“It kind of
is
, dude! Whoa! Jeez, c’mon, Bell!”

“If Emilia would be kind enough to dispatch all of you at once, our work is done here.”

“You’re freaking me out, guys! Chiho Sasaki! Get Emilia away from me!”

“C’mon, Yusa! Go get him!”

“This is
so
unfair! I hope you all go to hell! Dude, Emilia, calm down! I can explain all of this!”

“No more excuses! Kill yourself now, before I do it for you!”

“This is
insane
!!”

“Please…I’m begging you…let me eat in peace…”

Maou’s pained whisper was muffled by the noise of the life-or-death struggle that shortly ensued.

Even with all the powder kegs and enraged intruders, a steady, if insane, sort of peace continued to rule over the hundred-square-foot Devil’s Castle.

The sunlight pouring in signaled that the true arrival of summer was just around the corner.

As I’m sure my readers are aware, royalties are an important part of an author’s income.
Kojien
, the most authoritative dictionary of the Japanese language, defines the term as follows:

Not that this is paid out to the author in cash, of course. In Japan, what happens is that a company purchases something called a “revenue stamp” for the agreed-upon payment. This represents that the company has provided compensation for the work, for all official purposes.

This revenue-stamp system has its roots in how copyright and royalties used to work in Japan. In fact, the Japanese word for “royalties” is
inzei
, which literally means “seal tax.”

You see, in ye olde Japan, the back page of every book printed would include an official seal stamped on there by the author. The royalties paid to him or her would be based on the number of seals the author stamped on his work.

This system has largely died out in modern times, but if you take a peek at the older books that occupy the dusty shelves of used bookstores or university libraries, you’ll be able to see these official “stamps of approval” for yourselves.

Since this system of receiving royalties based on official stamps was the norm for the legal system that allowed publishers to handle author copyrights for publication purposes all the way to the modern age, we still call royalties “seal tax” in Japanese.

But, considering that system’s a dead relic from the past, nowadays in the twenty-first century, why do we still use such an old-fashioned term like
inzei
?

I found out for myself the day my first published work,
The Devil is a Part-Timer!
, went on sale.

I was at my local bookstore in order to get an eyeful of my book lined up on the shelves. To my enormous surprise, I walked right past someone who had the first volume in hand as he made for the cash register.

The great majority of the royalties I receive for writing
The Devil is a Part-Timer!
, of course, comes from the money spent by my readers with every purchase they make.

I knew that, of course, but it was when I saw that man in the bookstore that I truly felt it for the first time.

The royalties that are paid to me, in exchange for the readers’ expectation of the entertainment they will receive from reading my work, are what allow me to stay in this business.

So what would be the best way to use these royalties paid to me by these loyal readers?

We often talk about how people who work for the government bureaucracy are “living off the taxpayers’ dime.” I suppose that means writers like myself are “living off the readers’ dime,” then, the virtual seals we stamp on each volume the only thing keeping us clothed.

The “taxes” I receive in the form of royalties from my readers are what allow me to effectively invest in new projects. I have a duty to
use that money to the hilt in order to repay the favor to the readers, in the form of my “work.”

Amid all the momentous events that occurred in Japan and the world as I wrote this volume, I spent a great deal of time worrying about what a would-be author of light, entertaining fiction like myself should really be doing with his life. In the end, I came to the conclusion that reinvesting the “taxes” I receive in order to produce better “work” and entertain more of my readers was the most logical choice.

I hope I can continue working toward that goal, too—the goal of making those readers smile.

I apologize for continuing to irreverently talk about taking reader’s souls and seizing their taxes and so on in these afterwords. I should probably know my place a bit more.

Despite the tremendously stiff and self-centered thinking that went into this volume, it’s still filled with people living frenetic, exciting, fun lives.

Finally, I would like to close by apologizing on the Devil King’s behalf to my faithful readers living in Greenland for all of the inappropriate comments he made about your country. Thank you.