The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 4

by Satoshi Wagahara

  “…As do I, my liege. …Wait. No. More of a nightmare, perhaps.”

  Not even during their life-or-death final battle with the Hero did the Devil King and Great Demon General act so detached from reality.

  “Oh…yeah. Ashiya…”

  “Y-Yes, Your Demonic Highness?”

  Maou’s head wobbled as he whispered something to him. Ashiya’s wobbled back in response.

  “……………………………………”

  “Un…’ployed?”

  The throat-clenching silence was broken by Alas Ramus repeating the unfamiliar word she just overheard.

  “Uuuufff…!”

  Then, making a sound like someone poking a hole in an already half-deflated balloon, Ashiya fainted.

  “Aggghhh! Ashiya! He’s turning white as a sheet!!”

  “Whoa, is he even breathing? Bell! Get some water over here!”

  “Mommy! Minnial warter!”

  “Ooh, good, Alas Ramus! Lemme borrow that!”

  “Will that make him come to? Should we be performing CPR, or—?!”

  “…Dude, what’s up with Ashiya?”

  Only Maou failed to comprehend the blast radius of the dynamite he’d just lit in the room.

  “……”

  “……”

  “……”

  Only a light breeze between the cracks in their hole cover cooled the three mighty demons as they sat in a ring around a small package, each face glumly sizing the other up.

  The package, about the size of a large padded envelope, was inexplicably wrapped in layers of both clear and duct tape, DO NOT OPEN written in large, shaky lettering on the front.

  “What’re you waiting for? Open it,” Emi sighed in frustration at the frozen trio.

  “Well…not much point now, so…”

  “Yeah…”

  “True…”

  Emi, never a patient woman even in the best of times, pushed the indecisive denizens of the dark away, grabbing the package and tearing it apart with her bare hands.

  “Whoaaaaa! What the hell’re you doing?!”

  “Shut up! Don’t just sit there and wish it away! Just open it!”

  “D-Damn you! You’ll pay for this!!”

  “No! Nooooo!!”

  Ignoring the wailing demons, Emi ripped the rest of the package to shreds.

  “…What’s this? A video?” she asked.

  They were greeted with a single, labelless VHS tape.

  “Aw, crap! That video’s cursed! It’s so totally got to be cursed!!”

  Maou desperately raked his hands through his hair.

  “It’s p-p-probably got some kind of…horrible, hideous video on it!”

  Ashiya pinned his body against the wall, his face the color of eggshells.

  “Her photos were destructive enough as it is! I can’t even think about her in a video!!”

  “Can you guys just stop already? …I mean, your landlord sent this to you, right? Why’d you put that tape all over it?”

  “It’s a freakin’ video message from our landlord, dude! You’ve met her before!”

  “So? You’re not making any sense to me. Just play it and see what’s inside, all right?”

  Right after Maou’s now-fateful inquiry with the real estate agent, a delivery winged its way to the Devil’s Castle as well.

  This was no frilly letter smelling vaguely of perfume, though. It was a package, one the demons immediately grew wary of. On the one hand, it probably wasn’t anything very important. On the other, it might contain something just as mind-meltingly terrifying as…That Photo.

  At one point, a tongue-lashing from Suzuno did finally convince the demons to open up the package.

  But there was no label or letter inside. Just a plain, black videotape. And after paying a dear price at the Great Landlord Cheesecake Pin-Up Photo Disaster of Earlier This Year, who could possibly blame the demons for their trepidation at bringing the tape anywhere near a VCR?

  Assuming there was even a VCR bumping around the Devil’s Castle in the first place. That, of course, was not the case.

  Ultimately, it was decided that entombing the tape and pretending it never existed was the best course of action. It was buried deep within one of the prefab shelving units in the corner, but now, that tape was the only chance the denizens of Devil’s Castle had of somehow avoiding their impending homelessness.

  And yet, even now, the trauma of That Photo weighed all too heavily in their hearts.

  “So be it! If you don’t believe us, I’ll be more than happy to unleash the fury of That Photo upon you, Hero!!”

  “N-No, my liege! That Photo is a taboo that must never be summoned in our lifetimes! Even the gods themselves may never lay hands upon it!”

  “Silence! If we don’t wield it now, then when?!”

  “Dahhh! I can feel my memory being subverted by that…That Photo! The end of the world is nigh!”

  “Our Devil’s Castle is crumbling, Your Demonic Highness! Please! No more of this!!”

  Completely ignoring the demons’ ranting over some photograph—it meant nothing to her anyway—Emi’s eyes stopped on Urushihara’s computer.

  “If we got a cheap video deck somewhere, do you think we could use that thing to watch it?”

  With DVD and Blu-ray the current standard worldwide, devices that converted old analog formats to digital media were a common sight at the big-box stores.

  All three demons knew that. But why would they flush their valuable money down the toilet for the sake of undoing the seal placed on this false, fetid idol of disgust?

  “L-Look, Emi, there’s nothing in the world that can play this thing. Let’s just, uh, forget about it, okay? Like, we can figure out something by ourselves! Totally!”

  Just as Emi landed a kick on the simpering Maou, Suzuno came in carrying Alas Ramus.

  “I heard quite a clamor, Emilia. Have you solved this issue yet?”

  Emi shook her head, pointed a thumb at the panic-stricken demonic rulers, and shrugged as she explained the videotape.

  “Um…in that case…”

  Chiho hesitantly spoke up from Suzuno’s side.

  “I think we still have a working VCR at home… We could go watch it there, if you like?”

  “Hey, Mom, I’m—wagh!”

  “Oh, myyyyy, hello, hello! You must be that Maou person, arrrren’t you?”

  The moment Chiho opened the front door, she was almost sent flying by the sonic force of a shrill, high-pitched voice.

  Maou had a phone conversation with that voice, not too long ago. It belonged to Riho Sasaki, Chiho’s fortysomething mother, resplendent in her perfectly applied makeup and wardrobe as she greeted Maou and his companions.

  “Um, thanks. I’m sorry for stopping by so late.”

  Maou felt the beads of nervous sweat run down his back as he tactfully bowed.

  “Emi Yusa. Good to meet you.”

  Behind him, Emi kept it deliberately short.

  “Um…this isn’t anything fancy, but…you know, Chiho’s been a huge help to me this whole time, so…”

  Stammering out the words in an awkward attempt at politeness, Maou presented the small cake that Ashiya forced him to bring along.

  “Oh, my goodness! Such a thoughtful young man! Thank you so much. Please, come right in! So sorry for bothering you over the phone earlier. Right over to the living room with you! I’ll be happy to make some tea. Chiho, can you lead them over?”

  “Um, okay…” Chiho started. “It’s right this way, uh…Mr. Maou. Oh, and Ms. Yusa.”

  “T-Thanks.”

  “Thank you.”

  The Sasaki residence was a fairly typical house, nestled in a neighborhood across the Koshu-Kaido road from Sasazuka station, right on the other side of the highway from Devil’s Castle.

  This was the gang’s sole choice if they wanted to check the contents of that video as soon as possible. But it also meant Maou and the rest of the visitors were completely dependen
t on the whims of the Sasaki family matriarch.

  Ashiya rushed right out on Dullahan II in order to buy a suitable gift, but a single faux pas inside this house could ruin all the trust Chiho placed on them. To Maou, this was an all-or-nothing crusade.

  Even worse, they were being chaperoned by Emi.

  Ashiya should have been with them. But if they both left alone, Emi feared, they would likely toss the tape in a lonely Dumpster somewhere.

  To keep the head count low, everyone except for Maou and Emi opted to stay at Villa Rosa Sasazuka, keeping Alas Ramus entertained as they hoped against hope for good news.

  But what about Emi? Considering her breezy habit of verbally wishing for the Devil King and his crew’s grisly deaths at her bloodied hands, she seemed strangely passionate about finding a solution for Maou’s crisis.

  “…Mom, you always try too hard…”

  Chiho’s head drooped down the moment she entered the living room.

  Not a single speck of dust was present. A vase filled with colorful flowers was perched atop a brand-new tablecloth in the middle of the room.

  The light floral scent that prefaced the area suggested either an aroma candle or more than a few pinches of potpourri.

  The cushions on the chairs were thick, fluffy, and clearly not meant for daily use. It was evident, much to Chiho’s apparent chagrin, that Maou and Emi were being given an extremely warm welcome.

  “Ummm…um, sorry, I guess you can sit down? Oh! Maou, your video…”

  Chiho seemed to pick her words carefully as she accepted the tape, kneeling in front of the LCD screen in a corner of the room.

  Maou and Emi looked at each other, then gingerly sat down. The crinkle of a brand-new set of cushions could clearly be heard.

  “Here we go! I’ve got some refreshing iced tea, right here for you!”

  Then Riho, as high-intensity as before, came barreling in. Maou and Emi flinched slightly in surprise, but Riho paid it no mind as she set a pair of glasses in front of her guests, the tea smelling faintly of citrus fruit. Emi took a sip.

  “Thank you… It smells nice. Are these rose hips I’m smelling? It must be some kind of herbal tea.”

  Riho’s eyes sparkled.

  “Oooh, very observant! I should have known someone as sophisticated and savvy as you both would tell it right off! And thank you so much for taking such good care of Chiho for me! She tells me all kinds of things about you. And let me tell you, Chiho and my husband just have the worst time telling different types of tea apart!”

  “I…see.”

  “Mommm! You don’t have to tell them everything!”

  The tape safely in the VCR, the red-faced Chiho focused her efforts on shooing her mother out of the room. Riho didn’t budge.

  “Oh, just play that video before you kick me out! The future of Mr. Maou’s housing situation rides on this, doesn’t it?”

  With that, she helped herself to a seat across from Maou and Emi. Chiho had provided the bare minimum of an explanation in order to gain access to the VCR, but now two concerns raced across Maou’s head: What if my landlord does something weird? And: What if the sight of my landlord causes Chiho and Riho to lose all semblance of their sanity?

  “Ughh…! All right, all right. Are you ready, Mr. Maou?”

  “Uh, sure. Go ahead.”

  They couldn’t toss Riho out of her own house. His mind filled with assorted anxieties, Maou looked on as Chiho pressed the PLAY button, then took an uncomfortable seat next to her mother.

  A black screen flashed on for just a moment. Then an image flickered to life.

  Underneath a blue sky, amid a gold-colored landscape, a row of pyramid-shaped buildings loomed in the air. One hundred people out of a hundred would have instinctively identified the sight as Egypt.

  “Uh, is this on…? Ah-hem!”

  The landlord’s voice boomed out of the speaker. Maou clenched his fists in terror.

  “Well! It’s been quite a while, Mr. Maou and Mr. Ashiya. Today I’m broadcasting to you from in front of the three great pyramids of Giza!”

  She was in the middle of a bright, spotlessly clear desert.

  The mere sight of Miki Shiba—their landlord, her high-cut dress and short-sleeved top with the sleeves tattered and almost falling apart, the fancy hat on her head providing only token protection from the sun, her outfit revealing a robust amount of sagging real estate around her arms and legs—was enough to make Maou’s pulse surge and face whiten.

  Still, compared to her swimsuit pin-up shot, this was still more of a warning salvo than a head-on blast. He didn’t have to avert his eyes, at least. Maou couldn’t let himself cower in her presence forever.

  What was even more surprising to Maou, already in a cold sweat, was that the other three people in the room didn’t react at all, eyes sharply focused upon the murderous landlord onscreen.

  “During my travels, I received word that you came across some manner of disaster in your apartment. As your landlord, I really do feel I need to apologize for this.”

  It was hardly the landlord’s fault Maou had a hole blown in his wall by some alien toddler punching a renegade archangel through it. But to Maou, being stricken by the accursed sight of the voluminous valley between her two ample breasts as she bowed deeply to apologize was something he felt deserved an apology in and of itself.

  “I’m just happy that neither of you were injured. And it goes without saying that I will gladly cover all of the repair costs for your apartment, so there’s no need to worry about that. I promise you that this won’t affect your rent, either. However, since these will likely be some rather large-scale repairs we’re talking about, I’m afraid that chances are you’ll both need to vacate the apartment for a period of time.”

  Now she was all business, her speech largely echoing the content of Suzuno’s letter.

  Finally growing used to the awesome presence staring into the camera, Maou now had the time to silently lash out at Shiba. Seriously, why did she go through the trouble of filming this just for the Devil’s Castle? This all could have been handled a lot quicker if she’d just written them a letter, too.

  The video continued on after Shiba wrapped up her explanation.

  “Oh! And by the way, Mr. Maou, Mr. Ashiya, I do have one little request for you both. I’m not sure if I told you this, but I actually have a niece, you see.”

  Maou and Emi exchanged glances.

  The landlord’s niece?! They had never imagined this woman had parents, or siblings, or nieces or nephews, or anything else a normal family would have. Were there more of her?

  “Now, this niece of mine runs a little restaurant and sundry shop on the beachside over in Chiba.”

  The keywords landlord and beach brought back vivid memories of the Great Swimsuit Pin-Up Massacre. This video would be baring its fangs soon. Maou found himself fending off the urge to smash the STOP button.

  “If you like, I was wondering if you’d like to help my niece run the place for a little bit.”

  Maou stopped.

  “It’s on a beach in the northeastern corner of Chiba prefecture. A bit far away from you, I know, but considering the state of your apartment, I think you’d likely be staying there for the time being instead of attempting to commute. My niece’s house should be free for at least some of that time, so how would you like to stay there from…say, the first half of August or so?”

  A free place to live? And work from the start of August until past the end of the Obon holiday?

  The sheer perfectness of the timing had to be a put-on. She’s just buttering me up—or herself up, perhaps literally—before she strikes the final blow, isn’t she?

  “Northeastern Chiba… The town of Choshi, maybe?”

  Chiho nodded to herself as she tried to recall her local geography.

  “And you know, having a man there to help out during the busy season would do so much to put my mind at ease. I’m sure you have your own work to worry about, of course, so I won�
��t force you or anything, but I’d love if you gave it some thought, anyway. So if you think you’re interested, just call this phone number…”

  Shiba pointed a finger downward as a cell-phone number scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Maou stared blankly at the display for a moment.

  “Wow, Dev… Maou, that’s great! Hurry up and give her a call!”

  Maou choked on his own spit after Emi suddenly slapped him on the back.

  “Kheff kheff…!! Wh-What’re you doing, Emi?!”

  “She had to have sent this a long time ago. You better call her right now. If she hires someone else, it’ll be too late!”

  “B-But, Ms. Yusa, it’s kind of far from here to some beachfront shop in Chiba…”

  Chiho, wary of Emi’s unexpected reaction, found herself cut off by her mother.

  “No, she’s right, Mr. Maou! What a marvelous offer this is! A home, a steady job… All of your problems, solved in one fell swoop! Go ahead! You can call her right in here!”

  Riho’s reaction was to be expected from a nosy middle-aged mother, but Emi’s was all but inexplicable. She sounded almost happy for Maou’s reversal of fortune.

  Despite all the misgivings he felt at this dual-pronged mystery, Maou nonetheless typed the number into his phone as he gestured the room to be quiet for a moment.

  With one final nod to Riho, he took a deep breath and pressed the “call” button.

  His assessment of the situation was nowhere near as rosy as Emi’s or Riho’s. Everything was falling into place a little too neatly for his tastes.

  Plus, remember, this was a beachfront place run by that woman’s relative. There was no telling what kind of snake pit or lair of spittle-spewing monsters it could be. Commuting to some faraway MgRonald could be far less of an emotional burden on him when all was said and done.

  Chiho looked on with similar trepidation, occasionally shooting a glance at Emi. The Hero’s erratic behavior must have confused her, too.

  They waited, faces tensed up. Several rings passed, and then, a simple greeting:

  “Yello?”

  A woman’s voice.

  Which was expected, given it was her niece, but Maou was prepared for anything up to, and including, a flesh-eating ghoul of the night. Being greeted by a seemingly normal human being seemed almost disappointing.