The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 9

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The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 9 Page 1

by Satoshi Wagahara




  Copyright

  THE DEVIL IS A PART-TIMER!, Volume 9

  SATOSHI WAGAHARA, ILLUSTRATION BY 029 (ONIKU)

  Translation by Kevin Gifford

  Cover art by 029 (oniku)

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  HATARAKU MAOUSAMA!, Volume 9

  © SATOSHI WAGAHARA 2013

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by ASCII MEDIA WORKS

  First published in 2013 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.

  English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.

  English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen On

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  First Yen On Edition: December 2017

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Wagahara, Satoshi. | 029 (Light novel illustrator) illustrator. | Gifford, Kevin, translator.

  Title: The devil is a part-timer! / Satoshi Wagahara ; illustration by 029 (oniku) ; translation by Kevin Gifford.

  Other titles: Hataraku Maousama!. English

  Description: First Yen On edition. | New York, NY : Yen On, 2015–

  Identifiers: LCCN 2015028390 | ISBN 9780316383127 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385015 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385022 (v. 3 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385039 (v. 4 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385046 (v. 5 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385060 (v. 6 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316469364 (v. 7 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316473910 (v. 8 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316474184 (v. 9 : pbk.)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Fantasy.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.W34 Ha 2015 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015028390

  ISBNs: 978-0-316-47418-4 (paperback)

  978-0-316-47419-1 (ebook)

  E3-20171111-JV-PC

  PROLOGUE

  The grand empire of Efzahan held firm control over all the land that composed Ente Isla’s Eastern Island. It was ruled by the Azure Emperor, the absolute font of all power in the land, and this emperor lived in a castle and surrounding city that visually expressed all of his majesty—all the glory that allowed a single nation to so effectively control such a great expanse. Such was the impression it gave visitors from all of Ente Isla that it came to be known as Heavensky—as vast as the blue sky that extended from horizon to horizon across the earth.

  This land, this Efzahan, once suffered just as painfully under the iron rule of the Devil King’s Army as the rest of Ente Isla. But even Alciel, the Great Demon General who had led the demon horde’s conquest of Eastern Island, found himself taken aback by the vast, sheer beauty of this city, enough so that holding Heavensky Keep and the emperor’s family within his grasp was a source of honest pride to him.

  “Like, is all of that true? I know it’s written in that history textbook they cobbled together after the invasion, but…”

  A castle as vast as Heavensky was all but doomed to be complex and mazelike inside. And within an upper chamber, one only the nobility was allowed to step into, a brawny man in a spotless toga over a cheap T-shirt with “I LUV LA” on it had his audience’s attention.

  “I mean, not to cast aspersions, but you don’t seem like the type of guy who’s into all this lavishness. Like, you really didn’t mind spending the fortune it must cost to maintain all this? This place has gotta have a huge cleaning bill.”

  An equally brawny companion in a full suit of armor accompanied him, but the person in the toga was addressing a third man, one who was currently using this armored companion’s shoulder for support.

  “…”

  The man, dressed in simple, modest clothing, showed no sign of responding to the question—or to much else at the moment, given his lack of consciousness.

  “Still not awake, huh? Guess we did ask a lot outta him… Hey, can you at least tie him back on the throne for me? And when he wakes up, try not to manhandle him again; call me instead. Let him have whatever kinda tantrum he wants ’til I show up.”

  “Lord Gabriel, may I ask who this man is? What does he have to do with the Great Demon General Alciel?”

  The man called Gabriel chuckled a bit as he shook his head. “It’s better if you don’t know. It’ll just make more work for me if you do. I’d have to transform him myself, and I’d really like to avoid that pain in the ass if I could.”

  The armored man furrowed his brows at this reply.

  “My lord, if I may, I am one of the proud Knights of the Inlain Azure Scarves, the most prestigious of the Eight Scarves of Efzahan. There is nothing you could tell me that would prevent me from carrying out my mission, sir.”

  “Oh? Well, if you insist. That guy draped over your shoulder? That’s your Great Demon General Alciel, so… Oh, see? See? Can you stand up properly, please?”

  Despite all the lofty words of a few seconds ago, the armored man was now on the floor, the unconscious man’s arm still around him.

  “I’ve got a safety valve in place to seal off his demonic force, but I think he’s gonna shake that off with a quickness once he wakes up. That’s why I want you to tell me first… Ah, this is no good. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

  The courageous Knight of the Inlain Azure Scarves was racked with fear, his eyes darting and unfocused.

  “Man, I wanna show you guys exactly who you’re so afraid of. We’re talking about a guy who spends five minutes at the grocery store agonizing over whether to buy a six- or a twelve-pack of eggs. Here…we go!”

  Gabriel plucked the unconscious Alciel—known in another world as Shirou Ashiya—away from the incapacitated knight, heaved him over a shoulder, and stomped off and upward, farther into Heavensky’s higher reaches. It didn’t take him long to reach the castle’s throne room. Normally the Azure Emperor, the sole icon of power in this great land, would be conducting his political affairs in this chamber—instead, the throne was about to support Shirou Ashiya, the Devil King’s house-husband dressed from head to toe in discount off-the-rack UniClo clothing.

  “Bet this brings back some memories for you, huh?” Gabriel asked as he deposited Ashiya upon the throne in the middle of the vast, temple-like room, almost large enough to be a stadium. “But from here on out this joint’s gonna play home to an event you’re probably even more familiar with, so enjoy yourself, okay?”

  He grinned.

  “I’d love to mess around with that little situation a little, you can trust me on that. But nobody likes it when someone tries to clone a big hit, yeah?”

  Gabriel shrugged to himself. As he did, the ornate chamber, packed with furniture and décor from the world’s finest craftsmen, suddenly echoed with a harsh, electronic sound.

  “Oops, there it is,” he muttered as he reached into his toga. It was a ringtone—from an unlisted number, the screen said.

  “Who’s it gonna be—someone top-level? Or maybe the big man ’imself, huh?”

  He didn’t try to hide his excitement as he tapped at the screen.

  “Yello, do you have ten-pound balls? Oh, wait, I mean, is your refrigerator runni
ng? …Sorry, sorry, I just always wanted to say that. Yeah, this is Gabriel.”

  The joke apparently flew right over the head of the caller. His ranting through the earpiece could easily have been heard from an observer ten feet away.

  “Oh, hey, how’d you know I was on the Eastern Island? …Huh? Him? Hee-hee, nice! I always knew he had a good head on his shoulders… Hmm? Ohh, now you know I can’t say that quite yet. But, yeah, I’m definitely here, and… Ahh, I guess I might as well admit it: Emilia’s gonna be paying a visit soon, too.”

  Gabriel paused. There was no need to hurry this call along. He was too busy savoring the irate reaction from across the line.

  THE DEVIL DEVISES A FULL MILITARY EXPEDITION

  The other side picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Oh, hey, Kawacchi! You okay to talk for a sec? Great. So, um, sorry to spring this on you, but what do you think about swapping shifts three days from now? Yeah. Um, it doesn’t have to be the whole thing. Like, even half would help me out a ton. Day, evening, whatever… Oh, you will? Cool, thanks! I’ll make it up to you later, okay? …Huh? Aw, man, no way—you’re gonna have to ask her yourself, dude. I couldn’t really, like… Yeah. Sure, okay. Thanks again! I really mean it… Okay, sure, see you…”

  He ended the call, then wrote “OK” on a particular square of the shift schedule that was laid out on the low kotatsu table.

  “Cool. Now who’s left…? I already got Kato doing two days for me, so that leaves Kota and Aki and Ken… Ooh, but he said he was busy studying, so maybe not…”

  A sheet of paper titled “Employee List” lay next to the schedule on the table, each name with a symbol or piece of scribbled text next to it that only the original writer could comprehend.

  “After that… Eesh, and of course I had to pick up a Sunday-night shift at a time like this… Shige told me he’s a no-go for weekends, and Yoko usually works shifts alongside Mitsu, so…”

  The hemming and hawing continued as his eyes darted between the schedule grid and the staff list.

  “…Man, looking at it like this, it’s a goddamn miracle we can keep the café open, huh? I don’t even wanna know how we’re gonna launch the delivery side.”

  He shook off the thought before it threatened to drive his concentration off track any further.

  “Well, that’s why I gotta get this wrapped up in a week! Uh, I don’t think Ryuta can do nights…”

  Suddenly, the voice of a very non-hurried woman entered his ear.

  “Ooh, real tough!”

  He was the only one in the room. It was unclear where the voice came from.

  “Well, yes, it kind of is, okay? I have to cover for the manager most of the time if she’s not there, so if I’m gone too, that means no management at all in the store!”

  “Management? Why do you need management?”

  “Ugh…”

  Sadao Maou, the young, dark-haired man currently agonizing over his work schedule, groaned at the unseen voice that seemed to poke fun at his very psyche.

  “…Look, they’re called ‘management’ because they’re supposed to be around at all times, okay? So can you shut up for a second already? I’m kinda busy here!”

  “Meeeeeanie…”

  “Daaahhh!”

  He knew it was pointless, but Maou still rubbed the side of his head, attempting to quell the unwelcome voice inside. It had little effect. The voice cackled in laughter.

  “Maou, you scare the neighbors!”

  “…I just need to fill in two-and-a-half more days. Then I’m home free.”

  “Oh, who cares? Maou, we look for big sis, okay…?”

  “…I’m gonna take a break, and then it’s back to the phones! Please, someone…anyone…you gotta trade shifts with me!”

  “I thought you more…commanding, Devil King. Now, very weak-sauce!”

  Maou decided to ignore the slander running through his mind, whether it was intended to be so grammatically poor or not. She was only doing it, he knew, because he was engaging her. He stood up, stretched his cramped legs, and opened the door to the kitchen’s refrigerator.

  “Huh? Where’s the Fla-Vor-Nice I had in here? I know I bought the mashed-potato flavor…”

  “Oh, sorry, I eat it.”

  “Daaaaaammit! You can’t even find those right now! They can’t keep up with demand! You brat!”

  Five seconds later, he was engaging her again. The pilfered frozen dessert apparently had the power to make the Lord of All Demons fly into a non-affected rage.

  “Maou? Maou, are you okay? What’s going on?!”

  A panicked voice issued forth through the door as the furious Maou was about to bang his head against the wall. It saved him at the last minute.

  “Oh, is that…you, Chi?”

  “Y-yeah, um, I heard shouting from your room, so…are you all right?!”

  From outside he could hear the voice of Chiho Sasaki—his coworker behind the counter, his confidant who knew about his true self and the nature of his world, and Japan’s sole representative witness for the cataclysmic events happening across the universe at the moment.

  “It, it’s nothing. Well, no, I mean, it—it’s not nothing, but it’s nothing important, so… Here, lemme open up for—”

  “Someone with Chiho. I feel it.”

  “Dahh, shut up!”

  Just as Maou was about to unlock the door, he noticed the serious tone behind the voice that set off this whole inquiry in the first place. The events of the past few minutes caused him to overreact in grandiose fashion.

  “Uh, um, if now isn’t a good time for you, I could always come back later…”

  “Huh? No, uh, sorry, Chi, it’s nothing. It’s not your fault or anything. Just, um, come on in!”

  He opened up the door to find a fairly reluctant-looking Chiho there, his tone clearly giving her pause.

  “Are…you really sure?” Chiho said, peering into the apartment.

  “Uh… Hello…”

  And next to her, expression equally dubious, was Rika Suzuki, looking right at Maou.

  “Oh. Hey. You, um, feeling all right?”

  “Yeah, more or less,” Rika replied, sizing up both Chiho and Maou with her eyes. It made Chiho blush a little. “Chiho here’s done a lot for me, I have to admit…”

  This came as something of a surprise to Maou. The events that took place here three days ago, when Rika last paid a visit, were nothing short of disastrous. Rika wasn’t as inoculated against such supernatural and violent events as Chiho was—why would she be—and having the full brunt of Ente Isla’s existence thrust upon her had to be a shock. He had heard that Rika had barely left her place for the past three days. Chiho had stepped up to support her, communicating via voice and text, paying her the occasional visit to calm her frayed nerves.

  “So what was all that about ‘they can’t keep up with demand’ and stuff? Did someone eat your Fla-Vor-Nice or something?”

  “Uh…”

  Maou found it hard to respond. Any hope that the girls hadn’t heard him was gone.

  “Fla-Vor-Nice? What about that?”

  “Oh, you didn’t hear, Chiho? So, like, Fla-Vor-Nice is putting out these special-edition ice pops that don’t taste like normal ice cream and they had, umm…potato something? And it was this huge success, and they’re having trouble keeping it stocked in the grocery stores.”

  “Oh! Is that what it was?”

  Chiho looked up in astonishment, apparently not as up on current pop-culture trends as Rika. Maou—between his sadness at the lost ice cream, his embarrassment at having his ranting heard through the door, and the ensuing Fla-Vor-Nice stealth-marketing campaign unfolding before him—silently wished he could teleport himself anywhere else but here.

  “Yeah, that’s great, guys, but you’re here to see me, right? C’mon in. Don’t have much to offer, but…”

  Chiho obliged, stepping into Devil’s Castle as she kept a watchful eye on Rika behind her. There was a plastic shopping
bag in her hand.

  “Thanks. Oh, and I got something for you here…” She seemed to be taking pains to keep her voice cheerful as she offered the bag. “I bought this on the way, so…”

  “Oh, thanks… Whoa! Fla-Vor-Nice?!”

  The presence of the now-legendary frozen treat in the bag made Maou shout to the heavens.

  “And it’s the mashed-potato flavor, too!”

  “Huh? Really?” Even Rika looked surprised.

  “I didn’t realize it was rare or anything when I bought it,” Chiho said as she pointed at the logo on the bag. “It just happened to be in the freezer at this liquor store near my place, so I figured ‘why not?’”

  “For real? They’re apparently so popular that I haven’t been able to find these anywhere lately! Thank you so much, Chi!”

  “You haven’t?” Chiho smiled as he watched Maou rip open one of the packets. “Well, I’m glad I made you happy!”

  “Um,” Rika said, still incredulous at how much this seemed to mean to Maou.

  “Oh? Oh, sorry… Come in, come in,” he responded, beckoning at her after realizing she was still outside. Rika stayed where she stood, returning Maou’s glance.

  “So…Emi and Ashiya really aren’t there, huh?”

  “…No. They’re not,” Maou said, taking care to balance the ice pop in his right hand as he solemnly shook his head. Indeed, if the mastermind of the local kitchen was still around, he would never let something as serious as a purloined dessert escape his watchful eye. Shirou Ashiya—the Great Demon General Alciel—was no longer by his superior’s side, for the very first time since Maou set off to unify the disparate tribes of the demon realms. He had been taken—taken by the archangel Gabriel, a foe that Maou and Emi shared.

  Losing this presence that had faithfully stayed by his side, even when he failed in his conquest and wound up marooned in Japan, felt like someone had amputated his right hand. And judging by how Gabriel put it, he, along with Emi Yusa—the Hero Emilia Justina, the eternal thorn in his side, the woman who dismantled his empire and chased him all the way to Japan to finish the job—was being held somewhere on Ente Isla.

  “We didn’t hear anything from Ashiya or Emi’s father, and it’s just been too crazy to worry about all that since, so…I asked Chiho if I could come here with her today. So I could hear the truth from you.”

 

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