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

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The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 4 Page 12

by Satoshi Wagahara


  “Well, I told you guys that I’m ‘more or less’ running the joint, right? I kinda didn’t really know what I was getting into, and besides, I had my day job too, soooo…”

  She didn’t say what her day job was, but it was clear to Maou that it absolutely did not involve customer service.

  “Okay, Maou, I put all of your and Ashiya’s stuff away—whoa.”

  Chiho, dashing in from behind, lost her voice midsentence. It only made the situation starker, and more urgent, to everyone.

  “‘P…pan’… Mommy, what’s ‘panty-mode’?”

  “…You don’t need to know yet, Alas Ramus.”

  The uniquely toddler-esque attempt at Amane’s “panic mode” almost made Emi burst into laughter. She stifled it, moving on to her main point.

  “I…probably wouldn’t wanna go shopping in here, I don’t think.”

  The final blow. Amane looked up at the ceiling, not bothering to defend the obvious.

  Suzuno’s impressions were similar to Emi’s, but now something else caught her eye.

  “Dev—Sadao, what is it?”

  Maou, who had yet to say a word, was muttering something to himself that she could just barely make out.

  “The place is a heap, but it’s still gonna be a busy summer… We’re gonna have customers… We got a monopoly. A thousand yen times three ain’t cheap… Which means… Say, Amane?”

  “Yah?”

  Amane took her eyes off the ceiling long enough to acknowledge her name.

  “I was just wondering… If we can fill this joint up with people, do you think we could get some bonus pay?”

  “Uhh?”

  The entire room gasped at the completely unexpected words.

  “Fill it up…? Well, if you could, then absolutely, but…I mean…”

  I mean, what about this sordid scene indicated to him that the thought was at all possible? As Emi said, it was not at all clear whether anyone would even dare to step inside.

  “Ashiya. Urushihara.”

  “Uhm?”

  “Uh, what?”

  The two of them looked up.

  “We’re gonna pack this place full.”

  Maou had a flair for the dramatic when he felt like it.

  “Is that okay by you, Amane?”

  “Well, sure, I mean… Go ahead. But that’s kinda crazy talk, isn’t it?”

  Amane did not have a flair for managerial charisma.

  “’Cause I gotta admit it, you know… Just like your wife said, I probably wouldn’t shop in here, either.”

  “I told you, I’m not his wife!!”

  Emi’s objection was lost to the crashing waves.

  “Well, it’s good to have a lofty goal to strive for, I’m just saying. If you put your goal up high first, then even when you start faltering, you’ll still accomplish a lot more than if you kept the bar low. That…”

  Now there was a twinge of tingling excitement to his voice.

  “And a store’s appearance and selection is like a businessman’s suit. You aren’t going to earn much more than pocket change if you approach your customers wearing a wrinkled shirt and a stain-covered suit. It won’t be enough money to connect you to the next thing. You need to provide service that lives up to that level.”

  There was something a tad halting to his speech, but his point was clear enough. If you wanted customers to come in, you had to be as prepared as possible for them.

  “…And you call yourself Devil King.”

  Emi sighed, as if resigning herself to what undoubtedly came next.

  “…So, what are you saying you’re gonna do?”

  Maou furrowed his brows at Emi’s question.

  “Why are you asking me?”

  It was a fair question. Ashiya or Urushihara were one thing, but why would the biggest threat to his continued non-dismembered state care at all?

  Emi scrunched her face up, a little crestfallen, and looked to her side toward Chiho.

  “Don’t give me that. I’m helping you out here, all right? You could at least notice that!”

  Something about the smile that erupted on Chiho’s face, off to her side, annoyed Emi to the extreme.

  The totally unexpected offer was enough to leave all three demons dumbfounded.

  “Wh-what’s with you, Yusa? You drink some sour milk, or what?”

  It was hard to criticize Urushihara for making sure.

  “I’m just doing you enough of a favor now that it’ll be worth collecting on later.”

  Only Suzuno and Chiho understood what she meant.

  “In that case, I’d like to help out, too. Are you okay with that, Amane?”

  Chiho lined up next to Emi to volunteer her own efforts.

  “Y-You too, Ms. Sasaki…? Are you sure about that?”

  “Oh, of course. I was hoping I’d be able to pitch in a little anyway. And if Yusa’s joining in, I don’t wanna lose out to her.”

  Chiho raised a defiant fist in front of her as she answered Ashiya.

  “I apologize, but I did not bring with me the necessary garments to join in this work. Instead, I would be glad to care for Alas Ramus in your stead. I hardly expect she will be asked to scrub the floors as well.”

  “Suzu-Sis go home?”

  Suzuno shook her head as she accepted Alas Ramus from Emi’s arms.

  “Your father and mother are going to be working. We need to leave them alone. Let’s go play in the sand instead.”

  “In the sand?”

  The concept didn’t seem to ring any bells in the girl’s mind.

  “Perhaps we could start with a sand castle.”

  “Okeh!!”

  “Very well. I will take responsibility for Alas Ramus for the time being. In the meantime, I wish you the best of luck. Try to keep the demons from losing their jobs.”

  With those final words aimed at Emi and Chiho, Suzuno took Alas Ramus’s hand and walked off toward the shore.

  Emi frowned as she watched her go, then lightly slapped her cheeks with both hands, mentally prepping herself for the job ahead.

  “So! What now?”

  She glared at Maou, like a swordsman about to unsheathe her weapon.

  “…Are you serious? You seriously want to help me out?”

  “That’s what I said, didn’t I? Stop asking me again and again. You’re gonna make me say no.”

  “Behold, Urushihara…! Today is the glorious day when the Hero has finally fallen to her knees at the might of His Demonic Highness!”

  “…That’s really not how I want you to describe this, Ashiya.”

  Chiho simply looked on, a content smile on her face.

  “Chi and Ashiya know this already, but I can be a real slave driver sometimes, you know.”

  “Would you mind not treating me like a wimp for a change? You need to build one damn thick shell if you want to survive in a call center!”

  “Ooooooh. Yeah, we’ll see about that. Right. From here on in, I want all of you to follow my instructions. And no whining or running off on me, got it? Good. I’m assuming you guys didn’t bring any extra clothes, so I won’t give you any of the heavy lifting.”

  Despite the high-and-mighty tone, Maou demonstrated at least a tad of sensitivity for the crew he’d just press-ganged into action. Next he turned his eyes toward Amane.

  “You still good with this, Amane?”

  Despite it all, Amane was still the (more-or-less) boss here. Maou wanted her final say before going forward. As ready as Emi and Chiho apparently were to begin, he didn’t have the authority to start hiring whomever he wanted.

  “Well…I can’t say I know what’s gotten into you, but sure. I don’t mind. If you can actually get this sty into presentable shape in time for tomorrow, you guys all get a bonus from me for today! This is my screwup, anyway.”

  The reply couldn’t have been more carefree and easygoing.

  Confirming his boss’s assent, Maou sized up Ashiya, Urushihara, Emi, and Chiho in order.

&nb
sp; “Awesome. Let me just get this straight before anything else: We ain’t gonna pack the place from the very first day or anything. We’ve got more people now, but this space is pretty big, so we’re only gonna get to so much today. Given that…”

  Given Amane’s lack of enthusiasm, it was totally up to Maou to build a positive work environment for his staff and build the shop up to the point where customers would gladly give them money for their goods.

  Sadao Maou, de facto assistant manager, set foot on the golden sands of Kimigahama, the fate of his future salary resting squarely on his shoulders.

  “It all comes down to this. From here on in, we’re gonna have to fake it as much as we can!”

  Maou kicked things off by running a full check of the beach house’s equipment.

  The electricity and kitchen equipment worked fine, at least. The high-humidity refrigerator in the back was a brand-new Tsukizaki model, much better than the old, chugging fridge at the MgRonald in Hatagaya.

  The drink cooler was showing a lot of age, between the yellowed top panel and the rusted-out feet, but they could hide it well enough if they positioned it in the right spot.

  The brass drink server, featuring two taps fed by a single pipe, probably saw a lot of beer run through it in its time.

  Deeper inside the building, the group found a dust-caked, hand-operated, shaved-ice machine.

  It cranked, albeit haltingly. It wasn’t critically broken, anyway.

  After checking the rest of the outlets and lighting, Maou nodded sagely to himself and called out to Amane, lurking somewhere behind the counter.

  “Amane! How much petty cash do we have on hand?!”

  “Petty cash” was the term for cash kept by a business or department apart from their regular bank account, meant to pay for small daily expenses or unexpected situations.

  It wasn’t an accounting item Maou saw much of at MgRonald, given how location finances were mostly handled by the regional HQ. But they would sometimes dip into petty funds to cover transport costs for supplementary crew, or the paper and pens they used throughout the shifts.

  In the case of Ohguro-ya, a family operation without much in the way of fiscal regulations or real company procedure, they’d use petty cash for things like running off to the supermarket to buy some yakisoba sauce if they ran out.

  “Uhmm, I think about twenty thousand yen or so! I could probably spot you a little more if you need it, though.”

  The response came from the back room. Since Chiho was a minor, Amane was preparing a contract that she wanted parental permission to enact. Maou had to hand it to her: When it came to legal paperwork, at least, Amane had a decent head on her shoulders.

  “Twenty thousand oughta be more than enough. Yo, Emi!”

  Maou grabbed a pen and notebook from next to the register, jotting down a note and passing it over to Emi.

  “I want you to find out from Amane where the nearest big store is and purchase all this stuff for under five thousand. That, and take some of the ten-thousand-yen bills out of the register—not the petty cash, the regular bills—and break it all down into hundred-yen coins at the bank.”

  “Um…I know what the coins are for, but…one new inner tube, an air pump, construction paper, and some sandpaper? What’s all of that for?”

  Emi was clearly dubious. Maou didn’t skip a beat.

  “Just get it all for me, okay? And make sure you bring back a receipt.”

  “A receipt?”

  “Yeah. As long as all the items are printed out on it, the receipt from the store’s register oughta be fine. If it doesn’t itemize everything, though, have ’em write it out by hand so we can account for the petty cash.”

  “Okay. I’ve done some expense-account stuff at work; I know that much, at least. Should I write it out to ‘Ohguro-ya’ and expense it as ‘goods and services’…?”

  Emi meekly walked over to Amane for the details she needed.

  “Ashiya, I want you to get the floors spic and span before Emi comes back. Don’t leave a single grain of sand on it.”

  “Y…Yes, my liege…!”

  Ashiya stumbled over his reply as he sprang into action, asking Amane to direct him to the cleaning equipment. Chiho jumped out onto the store floor just as he began sweeping.

  “Ms. Sasaki, could I ask you something…?”

  “Sure, Ashi—Ashiya?! Why are you crying?!”

  Tears welled in Ashiya’s eyes, his nose turning red and sniffly, as he began to sweep, broom firmly in hand. It, to say the least, unnerved Chiho.

  “Emilia… Emilia, the Hero of Ente Isla! The sworn enemy of every demon that lives and breathes! She has been touched by the glorious aura that seeps out of my liege’s every pore! She has prostrated herself to him, putting herself at his every beck and call! Watching this dazzling sight unfold before me…I…I don’t know how to express my emotions…! This is one small step for a demon, but one giant leap for the demon realms…!!”

  Tears began to stream down Ashiya’s cheeks, nothing left in his heart to restrain them any longer. Chiho smiled uncomfortably as she watched.

  “I…guess I can see why that makes you happy, but you’re probably getting the wrong idea here. And I think you kind of owe Neil Armstrong an apology, too.”

  “Ohhh…how glad I am to be alive, to overcome those days and nights of hopeless desperation…”

  Faking a smile to placate Ashiya—although she still wasn’t quite sure what caused this emotional breakdown—Chiho edged back toward Maou.

  “Oh, hey, Chi. How’d it go with your mom?”

  Chiho had readily agreed to help out, but Maou knew he was placing a fairly major burden on her during her supposed vacation. Judging by her face, though, things turned out well with the family.

  “Ms. Ohguro came on the line, too, so Mom said it was okay. I think Amane’s in the back room now, writing up contracts for all of us…”

  Chiho halted toward the end, choosing her words carefully.

  “She really said yes? Seriously?”

  Riho must have assumed that whatever Chiho was doing in Choshi, it had to involve Maou in some nontrivial manner.

  He didn’t have any awareness of Emi and Riho’s conversation, but even without knowing that, the idea of Chiho’s mom allowing her to work during her vacation struck him as pretty ballsy.

  The permission she gave for her daughter’s flights of fancy was no doubt backed by the trust they had. The trust a mother had not just for her daughter, but for all the people that she, in turn, trusted.

  Under no condition could Maou afford to do anything that damaged those bonds.

  “…Guess I’ll have to bring Mom a gift from Devil’s Castle once we get back, huh?”

  “Huh? Oh, no, you don’t have to go that far. I’m doing this ’cause it’s fun, basically.”

  Of course Chiho would say that. Maou shook his head.

  “But I have to do something. You and your mom being really nice to me… Man, maybe I really will ask you to shack up with my army someday, Chi.”

  Maou intended it as an offhand remark.

  “…Wow. That’s a little exciting to hear.”

  But even he could hear Chiho’s muffled gasp.

  Only then did Maou realize the remark went a lot deeper than intended.

  “Uh? …Oh! No, um, I, I didn’t mean anything major with that, but…you know, it was just a turn of phrase. It, it wasn’t the ‘response’ you were talking about or anything. Oh, but don’t take that to mean ‘no’ or… Huh? Wait.”

  “If…if you left out the ‘with my army’ part…that… I’d definitely…the…ughhh…”

  “Huh? What was that?”

  Chiho fumbled around for words in her mouth, making it impossible for Maou to hear her.

  “N-Nothing… I, I just…you know, really…someday…”

  “…Uh, dudes, TMI? If you don’t have any work, I’m going out back and sittin’ in the AC.”

  “Whoa!”

  “U
-Urushihara?!”

  Maou and Chiho jumped into the air. At their feet, Urushihara’s voice emerged from under the beer counter.

  “Uh, no…I mean, yes, I got work for you. Just wait a sec!”

  “I-If you were there the whole time, why didn’t you say anythiiiiing?!” Chiho protested loudly, face red as a ripe tomato. Urushihara looked up quizzically.

  “What, like you wouldn’t have bitched at me no matter when I spoke up?”

  Urushihara, for once, was completely right.

  It was proving to be an embarrassing confrontation for both of them. Luckily, Maou returned just in time, bravely attempting to save face as both a Devil King and an awkward young man.

  “Ah-hem! Right! Come over here, Chi. This ain’t anything too exciting, but…”

  Beckoning Chiho into the kitchen with a loud cough, Maou took some salt and vinegar from the spice shelf and picked up a scrub brush from the sink.

  As Chiho looked on in confused curiosity, Maou took out a small bowl, added a tablespoon of salt, and poured in enough vinegar to cover it up before stirring it with the brush.

  Bringing the mixture to the tarnished beer taps, he began scrubbing the brass surface with the brush.

  “Ooh! Wow! It’s coming off!”

  The golden sheen of the brass emerged from the spot Maou polished up.

  “The salt granules act as an abrasive that helps the acetic acid in the vinegar penetrate and remove the rust. Now, it’s gonna take some time, Chi, but I’d like you to polish these taps until they’re sparkling.”

  “Sure thing! I’ll give it a try!”

  Her face still showing a twinge of pink, Chiho eagerly took the scrub brush in hand.

  “If you run out of salt and vinegar, just add a little bit to the bowl. Lemme know when you’re finished.”

  Chiho nodded and went to work, just in time for Urushihara to pipe up again.

  “Where’d you learn that household hint? You didn’t have any TV or Internet ’til I showed up.”

  “I studied up a little after I got to Japan. All the joints I worked at as a temp… There were some pretty ugly-looking workplaces.”

  “Oh? You mean like the place that made you buy that long-sleeved logo shirt?”

  “Right. Most of the time we’d just be moving heavy things around, but sometimes we’d be installing stage props, or standing on street corners with sandwich boards, or keeping track of how many cars passed by… All kinds of crap. I learned that rust trick when I was helping clean up a retro-themed izakaya before they opened. A lot of bare-bones stuff like that that doesn’t require any special tools.”

 

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