The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 1

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The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 1 Page 6

by Satoshi Wagahara


  “Oh? Uh… Oh! I guess so, huh?”

  Chiho, judging by her reaction, wasn’t expecting this response. She had this very unnatural way of acting surprised that was in itself surprising.

  “That’s what all my classmates said at school when I asked them, but for me, it was, like, so awful!”

  “Really?”

  Spotting Maou’s apparent interest, Chiho began to gesticulate wildly to emphasize her harrowing experience.

  “My mom said there was this really loud noise, like something exploded, and it shook really bad, too! When I got back home, all the CDs and stuff had fallen off my bookshelf! It was the worst!”

  “Wow. That bad?”

  “Oh, you don’t think I’m lying, too, do you, Maou?”

  Chiho puffed up her cheeks in protest, eliciting a laugh from him.

  “Oh, I’m not, I’m not. So then what happened?”

  “Well, then we had to clean up all the dishes and stuff that had broken! My dad was calling around all over the place!”

  “Calling who?”

  “Oh! My dad’s a police officer, but he was home yesterday because he was off duty. But he used to be a regional director and one of the emergency contact points for the town assembly, so he made a bunch of calls to all his contacts. The ward’s disaster management office told him that it wasn’t a big earthquake at all. It was a real bummer!”

  “Huh.”

  “Maou?”

  “… …”

  “Hey! Maou!”

  “Mm? Oh. Sorry. I just thought that sounded kinda weird, you know? Like, only your house getting affected.”

  “Yeah, isn’t it?… Oh, uh, by the way?”

  “Hmm?”

  She had been excited up to now, darting from word to word, but now Chiho’s voice was toned down a notch as she expectantly looked at her coworker.

  “You said you had a roommate just now?”

  Something about her eyes made Maou want to avert his own.

  “Yeah. An old general of mine. Friend. Friend of mine, from way back.”

  The “living on a shoestring with my old friend” cover was something he had decided upon with Ashiya in advance. It had the side benefit of being almost 100 percent true. Maou sighed to himself.

  “Is-is it your…g-girl—”

  “He’s a guy, Chi. Just the two of us, slumming it in our ancient apartment building.”

  “Eh? Oh? Ohhhh. I…see. Yeah…I get it. Good!”

  “What’s good?”

  “N-nothing! Are…are you on the first floor, Maou?”

  “Nah. Second. My friend didn’t feel anything on the second floor, so I guess that’s why I didn’t think it was anything big. The place definitely woulda been shaking if it was. What about you? Do you live in a condo or something?”

  “No, it’s…um, it’s a house. Uh…”

  “Hmm?”

  “If…if you’d like, we could—”

  “Come on, kids.”

  The conversation was interrupted by Mayumi Kisaki, head manager of the Hatagaya restaurant. She had the body proportions of a model and stood a good head taller than Maou. Her long black hair, easily sleek and shiny enough for her to star in shampoo ads, was tied back, the colorful MgRonald uniform doing wonders to accentuate her body.

  “Oh! Ms. Kisaki!”

  “No personal conversations while you’re on duty, please. Have you completed the evening floor check yet, Chi?”

  “Oh! I’m sorry! I’ll go do it right now!”

  Every two hours, someone had to go around the store to ensure everything was clean and in the proper place. Chiho hurriedly took a checksheet from the shelf beneath her register and flew away from the counter.

  “You try not to spoil Chi too much either, okay, Marko?”

  Kisaki’s eyebrows were furrowed, but Maou knew she wasn’t truly angry. Unless someone from the executive office was lurking around, she preferred to keep things relaxed on the floor, referring to every employee by a nickname and refusing to let anyone call her “Manager.”

  She was one of MgRonald’s most well-known managers. More than a few male regulars stopped by just for a chance to chat with her, and she had appeared several times in the ads they printed on the paper place mats. Why an intelligent, attractive woman with such a perfectly shaped body was content with running a fast-food joint was a mystery. The only secrets she guarded more closely were her age, height, and weight.

  “But didn’t you tell me not to be so harsh on her, Ms. Kisaki? She’s probably gonna be the first student in a while to settle into a regular shift schedule.”

  Just as Maou finished the sentence, they heard the sound of assorted objects falling to the ground beyond the door in the staff room next to the customer seating, where the crew stored cleaning equipment and other accessories. She must have knocked some of it over by accident. Chiho’s frantic “Sorry about that!” could be heard above the noise.

  “Well, yes, but the home office is starting to send people in unannounced to check up on things. If we let the private chat go too far, it might come back to bite us later on.”

  Fair enough. Even weirdos like Emi were spying on this place. There was no telling who else might have their eyes on it.

  Of course, Maou had yet to see Kisaki have to apologize to anyone from the main headquarters. It seemed more like they actively tried to avoid her, in fact.

  “Anyway, Marko, you mind doing an afternoon stat check for me?”

  Maou tapped away at the register, printing out a receipt listing customer and sales figures for the slow afternoon period between the lunch and dinner rushes. Kisaki took a glance at the receipt and nodded, apparently satisfied.

  “Nice! We’re gonna make our daily sales target easy today. Great job, people! You all get one free drink on me. Let’s keep it going through the dinner rush, all right? Oh, and Marko, that was a perfect ten, how you treated that customer just now. Keep setting a good example for the new guys, okay?”

  Besides meeting her daily sales goals and keeping things positive and upbeat with the crew, Kisaki was a woman of few motivations. Hence why she was so ready to give Maou raises. Everything he did to improve his output and drive sales was exactly what she wanted to see.

  Maou firmly believed that surpassing her would be the first concrete step along the path to world supremacy.

  “Oh, by the way, did the earthquake yesterday affect you at all, Ms. Kisaki?”

  “Earthquake? Was there one?”

  That was about all the attention Kisaki paid the query as she pored over the sales figures. She had a condo somewhere nearby, but if that was her reaction, it was doubtful she felt anything at all.

  “Ah, nothing worth worrying about at this point, I guess.”

  He felt a twinge of guilt about Chiho, but for now, he knew his primary concern should likely be his upcoming late-night conference after work. Maou was on duty until closing time at midnight, so it would likely come at the same time as yesterday. The more he thought about it, the more it plunged his mind into a state of depression.

  “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  Emi, drawn up to her full height, was waiting for Maou at the darkened residential intersection. Since their last encounter, she had changed into a blouse and a trim pair of jeans. There was nothing in her hands, but there was no telling what kind of hidden weapon she might whip out and fling at him.

  Kisaki’s free drink—MgRonald’s signature Platinum Roast Ice Coffee—was safely ensconced in Maou’s right hand, ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice.

  “I just wanted to ask you something.”

  His hips were firmly planted upon the saddle of Dullahan, allowing him the option of escape if times called for it.

  “Do you even have any intention of returning to Ente Isla?”

  “Huh? What’re you talking about?” Maou honestly failed to grasp her point. “Of course I do.”

  “So you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in this worl
d?”

  “What, are you kidding me? What’s this all about, anyway?”

  “I was watching you work earlier.”

  “Wha—Where?! Not the bookstore again!”

  Emi ignored the question.

  “Your smile. Your snappy responses to questions. The trust the manager and the other employees put in you. That flexible approach you took with customers—that takes real talent. You’re, like, the ideal Maggie’s employee.”

  “What, are you from Osaka?”

  The battle over how to correctly abbreviate the name “MgRonald” was intense and heated, cleanly splitting the nation of Japan in half vertically, with both sides doggedly sticking to their preferred version. Maou knew that, and as a resident of eastern Japan, he knew that “Ronald’s” was the only correct—the only sane—version.

  “When we talked this morning, I thought you were just spouting nonsense to me on purpose. But watching you work today…you were really telling the truth, weren’t you?”

  Emi shrugged. “And, you know, if you’re willing to live out life as a bright, happy young man in this world, I’m perfectly willing to not kill you. That girl you worked with—you know, the cute one? It looked like she’s got a thing for you.”

  “Yeah. I was pretty much the guy who gave Chi all her training. She’s only been a full crew member for a coupla days, but she learns quick, and she’s really good at being polite with customers…so…”

  The Devil King was boasting about some rather unexpected feats.

  “Think about it. If you live out your life here, everything’s going to be fine. Peaceful! You can make the area around Hatagaya station happy for everyone. And I wouldn’t have to fight anyone I don’t have to. Would you consider it, at least? You, and Alciel, living here until you’re dead and buried?”

  “Alciel is a valued assistant of mine, I’ll grant you that. But why would I want to live all the way to old age with him?”

  “Well, you know, I heard that sort of thing is getting popular these days.”

  Maou scrunched up his face at the concept.

  “Look, Emi, are you…suggesting something, when you’re ordering me to live with another man my whole life?”

  “No! Of course not! I just wanted to…bring up the idea, all right?”

  Emi took a breath. “I just want you to give up Ente Isla for me. I want you to give it up, and find a new life for yourself here. On Earth.”

  Maou was quick to respond.

  “Not happening. I’m gonna make my way back to Ente Isla…and it will be mine.”

  He meant every word of it. He had lost a great many things, but the strength behind his avowal still rang true.

  That much was clear to Emi as well.

  “…All right.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes. That’s it. Now it’s been decided. I will chase you down for all time, until you are dead by my hand.”

  “So the same as before. Great.”

  Maou placed his feet upon Dullahan’s trusty pedals. He pumped them once, defiantly, hoping to place a final exclamation point on their conversation, when:

  “Yagh!”

  He felt a dull force thunk against his front wheel. Losing his balance, he fell lamely to the ground.

  Even Emi, who was about to briskly walk away from the scene, was surprised at the sheer artistic grandeur behind the wipeout. If he were a little closer to the side of the street, he might have cracked his head open on the curb.

  The cup of iced coffee in his hand arced through the air, the liquid and ice splattering across the pavement.

  “What was that?”

  Without thinking, Emi ran back to Maou, helping him back up.

  “Oww… Man, that came out of nowhere. Did I run over something?”

  “Hah! And you call yourself Devil King! Get it together, won’t you?”

  “Shut up.”

  Emi inspected the bike as he supported Maou’s side. His eyes had teared up a bit from the shocked surprise.

  “That’s a new bike, too, isn’t it? Oooh, too bad.” She pointed at the front wheel as he brought the kickstand down.

  “Aw, man, it’s flat!”

  Falling to one knee, Maou groaned in pain as he realized the enormity of it all.

  For a moment, Emi reveled in the sight.

  “Come on, Dullahan! You can pull through this! It’s just a flesh wound! I’ve only just purchased you!”

  But seeing Maou whine emphatically at a cheap fixie made her feel a twinge of empathy instead.

  “You don’t have to act like that. It’s just a flat. Just bring it to the bicycle shop tomorrow. It’s only a thousand yen or so to patch up the tube. Replacing a tire costs more, but…”

  “R-really?!”

  Maou’s hands still tightly embraced Dullahan as his head turned toward Emi, who edged backward in response.

  “Um… Yeah. Really. But get away from me! You’re all dirty! It’s disgusting!”

  “I am not disgusting! But…okay. I’ll go get it fixed first thing in the morning. Thanks for the help.”

  “You’re welcome… No! Wait! I don’t need your petty compliments! You were just acting so pathetic over a stupid bicycle flat, it threw me off guard, so…”

  Emi failed to finish the sentence.

  “Huh? Earthquake?”

  The ground palpably shook underneath them for a moment. Before she could check up on Maou, they heard a faint bursting sound emanate from somewhere. This time, the rear wheel had blown.

  “Whoa!”

  “Agh!”

  Just when they had a spare moment to shout, the signal light above them shattered into a million pieces. The Hero and the Devil King covered their heads at the sound of shards scattering across the ground.

  “Are we…”

  “…being shot at?”

  They were answered by a cracking sound at their feet.

  “Whoa, whoa, what the hell?!”

  “We need to get out of here!”

  The two of them flung themselves into a nearby alley. The sparks and bursting noises followed them.

  In the darkness of Sasazuka, a silent sniper had bared its fangs at the Devil King and the Hero.

  “What is going on here—Ahh!”

  “Stop screaming! And stop tripping over the bollards, too!”

  They had made their way into Koshu-Kaido road, hiding behind the cars in a coin-operated parking lot as they evaded the sniper. No one was walking by, but the car traffic was incessant.

  The Shuto Expressway above them blocked off the night sky. The two of them caught their breath in front of a shuttered office building.

  “What just happened?”

  Emi’s voice was higher than usual. Maou’s was equally strained.

  “The Devil King and the Hero are together. And someone is attacking them. It’s got something to do with Ente Isla. Even if it didn’t, what kind of criminal’s shooting that kind of thing in Japan? You know how crazy strict the weapons laws are.”

  “I know! So was some street gang firing an air gun at us…?”

  “They don’t make street gangs like that around here anymore! Get down!”

  Maou forced Emi’s head downward.

  At the exact height of Emi’s head, there was now a small hole in the metal shutter.

  “…You can’t shoot a BB through a steel door, either.”

  “Get off! Stop messing with my hair!”

  Emi brushed Maou’s hand away. Maou obliged, staring at his hand as he asked a question.

  “So you’re about as strong as the average Japanese person, too?”

  “…Strong or not, you’re still gonna cut yourself in the kitchen! It’s still gonna hurt if you stub your toe against a lamppost!”

  Maou took that to mean Emi no longer enjoyed her Ente Isla–era strength. As a demon, he had taken it for granted that his physical, defensive, and spiritual strength would always outclass his foes. Now, every trait of his strength was on an even keel with th
e Japanese national adult average—a fact that became all too clear to him over the past year of life in Japan.

  “That last one came from in front of us.”

  “Don’t be so sure. You hear any gunshots yet?”

  “Nothing like that, no… Ah!”

  Just as she spoke, she lunged toward Maou. They both spun in the air together before hitting the ground. If she had been a moment slower, they both would have been perforated. The sad, suddenly-very-well-ventilated shutter told them as much.

  “Nice one.”

  “I’m not an idiot, you know. I’m a Hero.”

  “Yeah, sorry. You mind getting off me? I can’t dodge sniper fire like this.”

  “That’s your fault for landing first! I’d be only too happy to extract myself from your putrid hide!”

  They were being less than polite to each other, but their quarrel was with another foe. Quickly, they rose to their feet and composed themselves, backs against each other as they watched their surroundings, ready for attack from any direction.

  “Can we make it to the station?”

  “Good idea. The izakayas will still be open around Sasazuka station; there’ll be a bunch of people there. It’ll be risky, but it’s up to whoever’s shooting us to react. Can you run?”

  “Better than you can. You had it easy all this time with that bike.”

  “Okay. Go!”

  Could the sniper keep up with the two of them running? There were no bystanders up to now, but the closer they came to the station, the more they encountered. The izakaya bars near the station were lit in a dazzling array of colors, herds of salarymen roaming the streets around them, wondering which to hit next.

  The two of them warily eyed the area, the station wall behind their backs. A pair of middle-aged men in business attire hollered at them, but they didn’t have the spare time to play around with drunk office grunts at the moment.

  They must have remained frozen where they were for ten minutes or so. By the time they finally concluded there were no snipers in well-lit, populated areas, they were both physically and mentally exhausted.

  “So what…was that?”

  Emi heaved a sigh of relief, brushing the sweat-heavy hair off her brow as she asked no one in particular. Maou struggled to catch his breath as he responded.

  “I don’t know…but that wasn’t just some random sniper. Those were bolts of magic energy.”

 

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