The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 14

by Satoshi Wagahara

  “Wha, wha, what was all that about…? Agh!”

  It promptly began to shake again. This time, though, it didn’t seem interested in stopping. After a minute of this, Emilia finally drummed up the courage to pick it up.

  The board was dully vibrating in her hand, but it didn’t seem about to do anything harmful. That red-and-green rectangle was on the surface of it again, and inside was another figure that was new to her.

  “What kind of thing is this…? Eek!”

  When she was brave enough to try poking it, the vibration stopped, and the picture on the board’s surface changed again. Emilia dropped it on the floor with a heavy thud, and silence returned once again.

  “Wha…wha…wha…?”

  Then, another shocking change.

  <“H-hello… Hello?”>

  “?!”

  It was a voice. A person’s voice, coming from that board! It was patchy, with some noise that Emilia had never heard before, but was it that woman’s voice? She looked around the room, but detected nobody nearby. Perhaps it was a magical talisman of sorts, taking the role of the Idea Link in long-distance communication.

  <“Did, did someone pick up? Hello? Helloooooo?”>

  “The voice makes it through…which means…”

  Emilia had conversed via Idea Link often on her journey. If someone was there, on the other side of this board, then perhaps…!

  “Maybe I can use…Idea Link?”

  It was her first chance to have a calm conversation with a human being in this country. This time, for sure, she couldn’t afford to scare her…and this was the only way.

  Slowly, silently, Emilia focused on the board lying on the floor. Her mind connected to it, much more easily than she’d predicted.

  And it was that woman. She sat down next to the lit-up board, working the Idea Link to read the words and consciousness of the woman, and then she began to speak.

  <“Um… Hello?”>

  This must be how people greeted each other in long-distance discussions.

  <“Hello? Oh, did this work?! M-maybe I dropped my phone somewhere away from my purse! Hello?!”>

  Phone?

  There was no common concept of a “phone” shared between the two minds. Emilia was unable to discern its meaning.

  <“Phone…”>

  <“Y-yeah. Um… I’m the owner of that phone. I’m at the police station right by the station in Eifukucho.”>

  A “police station” was likely one of the constabulary’s guardrooms. Quickly, Emilia opened up the blue map and checked it against the concepts beamed into her mind. A “station” would be a stopping point for transportation, so Emilia soon had a general idea of where it was. It didn’t look that far away from her.

  <“So, um…yeah…?”>

  <“Oh, ohhh, how, ya doing?”>

  <“Huh? Um, I’m all right…”>

  <“What, is, your name?”>

  She still wasn’t fully picking up on the concepts. The Idea Link only worked if there were common ideas to link up with. And in order to pull out as much of this woman’s words and ideas as possible, Emilia felt it best to use the language she was most familiar with.

  <“Um? My name is, uh, Keiko Yusa.”>

  <“Yusa?”>

  <“Y-yes. First name K-E-I-K-O, last name Y-U-S-A.”>

  <“Keiko…Yusa…”>

  She finally had her name. The name “Yusa,” along with the characters used to write it, undoubtedly belonged to her. She wasn’t quite sure how kay-ee-ai-kay-oh led to “Keiko” yet, but at least she knew how to read it now. Now she was getting excited.

  <“Your, belongings…are, here.”>

  <“What?”>

  The voice on the other side of the Idea Link stiffened at Emilia’s response. Learning Yusa’s name had taken so much effort that she must have done something wrong. In a panic, Emilia strung some more words together.

  <“Welcome…in the room…come here.”>

  <“…Nnnnn, nnnnnh!”>

  “Huh? What?!”

  Without warning, the conversation and Idea Link were cut off. She knew what that meant. Disconnections like this were common if your partner fell asleep, or was knocked unconscious. As if picking up on this, the light-up board’s surface returned to the picture of that bear.

  Had she done something to scare her again? Picking up your partner’s language while conducting a long-distance Idea Link required pretty intense mental concentration. If she could meet her in person and return her items, that wouldn’t just allow her to apologize in person—it’d make it far easier to keep that link going. Plus, she was sure she hadn’t said anything wrong, per se, in this country’s language.

  “…Hopefully this will work…”

  As long as she didn’t know Yusa’s location, she would just need to have her come here. And as long as Emilia didn’t know how this board worked, exactly, she couldn’t send out an Idea Link from her end.

  “Guess I’ll just have to wait.”

  Yusa had already been here twice. Someone not involved with this building, one with so many rooms, wouldn’t show up at this one twice without any business. Next time, Emilia wanted to greet her properly and apologize for everything that happened. It might lead to more constables chasing after her, but she’d deal with that then. Despite the short length of her conversation with this Keiko Yusa, it had borne a lot of fruit. If she could build on that, the next time a constable confronted her, she’d at least be able to talk back.

  “Thinking about it that way…this armor really is a bad idea.”

  Now she knew what “samoorai gosst” meant. It certainly described her to a T. Determining that much from a single glance indicated Yusa was a perceptive woman, yes, but if Emilia wanted to stop looking like a hostile threat to her, she’d better have that armor off at their next encounter.

  But if she did…

  “Oof.”

  Just as she began removing a shoulder guard, she was greeted by what could be called a sour odor.

  “I gotta wash this… No way she’ll ever listen to me like this… Oh! That’s right!”

  In the midst of their talk, Emilia learned that those white and blue maps took up a vital position in Keiko Yusa’s life. That, and the “Yu” part of her name, which could also be read as “hot water,” was used to represent things like baths and hot springs.

  Staring at the map full of unfamiliar characters, it only took a few seconds before she sounded her first whoop of joy in this nation.

  “Yes! Here we go!”

  “…I feel like a new girl…”

  For the first time in five days, Emilia felt healthy, mind and body, in this new world. The clothing and underwear that had absorbed so much sweat under her armor during that intense fighting now had the fetching smell of soap to them.

  There was a public bath not far from that building. She wasn’t aware of what the “public” part meant until she arrived at the door, but as she eavesdropped on the conversations of people around her, she realized it meant a bath open for anyone to use.

  Public baths like these, even on alternate worlds, didn’t vary much design-wise—but since she didn’t want to break any taboos, Emilia immediately went up to what seemed to be the attendant, a middle-aged woman. It was true—being able to calmly use the Idea Link in person with someone made it possible to grasp concepts in such incredible depth. The attendant certainly knew that she was a foreigner without much language skill, but she was still polite with her, choosing her words carefully to guide her through the process. A lot of it was still way over Emilia’s head, but it still helped build her vocabulary greatly.

  The problem was with the currency Emilia brought along. She had already sworn not to touch Keiko Yusa’s money. On her way to the final battle, she’d tucked a sort of charm under her armor—a cloth bag with one gold, one silver, and one copper coin, a symbol of her intention to return to a peaceful, bountiful world—and she finally opened it here, presenting the most valuable gold coin to
the attendant. This seemed to do little but thoroughly confuse the woman, but Emilia received a lifeline from an unexpected source.

  <“Hohh… That’s a rare coin, there.”>

  Behind her was an old woman wearing a pair of glasses.

  <“Rare, you say?”>

  <“Here, let me see it a moment.”>

  <“Okay. Go ahead.”>

  Taking a small eyepiece like something a watch repairman would use out of her pocket, she ran her eye up and down the gold piece.

  <“Hmm… It’s certainly nothing used in modern Japan. Or anywhere in the world, really. I haven’t seen markings like these before…but from what I can tell, it’s definitely real gold.”>

  The attendant shrugged at the old woman. <“But, Ms. Kimura, I can’t really do anything with real gold here!”>

  <“If you’d like,”> Ms. Kimura said without addressing this complaint, <“I could buy this from you. In fact, I could cover you for the bath here. Once you’re done, come on over to my store. I’ll give it a full evaluation and pay you in yen for it.”>

  Emilia didn’t quite catch all of that, but she got the idea that this old woman she’d run into would exchange this coin for the local currency. Thanks to old lady Kimura, Emilia finally managed to enter the bath. She was even nice enough to explain how to use all the in-house equipment.

  Shedding the armor really made it this easy for people to approach her? That was the biggest shock for Emilia. She was highly reluctant to disarm and disrobe, given that she had no idea when Satan, the Devil King, would strike—but in a way, all that equipment was serving as two strikes against her around here.

  As she experimented with all these things she’d never experienced before—washing her hair with liquid soap that bubbled an unbelievable amount; faucets that provided cold or hot water whenever you wanted it; tubes in the wall that blew hot air at you; a large, well-polished full-length mirror—she took the first real bath she’d had in she couldn’t say how many days.

  Ms. Kimura also told her about the washing device adjacent to the bath. <“I like your courage, living in Japan by yourself with a single set of clothes, but I can’t say it’s a good idea. How ’bout I buy some things for you and take it off the price for the gold?”>

  Looking a little concerned for Emilia, Ms. Kimura went to a vending machine in the changing room and purchased a set of undergarments like none Emilia had ever seen. Putting them on, she waited (otherwise unclothed) in front of the washing device for twenty minutes. Her long-sleeved hemp shirt and pants came out soon after, smelling of soap and dried to a crisp.

  <“Don’t tell me you come from a country where they don’t have washing machines?”>

  Ms. Kimura laughed as the dumbfounded Emilia stared at the results.

  Stopping herself before she aroused suspicion, Emilia put the clothing on and walked with the old woman to her shop. It had a sign with the words for WATCHES / ANTIQUES / PRECIOUS METALS on it, she could tell now. Inside, Ms. Kimura placed the coin in a strange box and looked through a pair of tubes to examine it.

  <“Hmmm… It resembles some of the old currency of Spain, but this is much purer gold than anything they minted. How about fifty…no, seventy thousand yen?”>

  Seventy thousand. Emilia wasn’t sure how large a number that was, but she could still tell that Ms. Kimura had “raised” the offer from fifty. When she nodded, the old woman gave her a fishy sort of smile and handed her seven familiar-looking bills.

  <“Thank ya much! Lemme know if you ever need any more help.”>

  Having run her Idea Link the whole time, Emilia suddenly realized at that moment that Ms. Kimura was one hell of a shrewd businesswoman.

  <“Thank ya much.”>

  She assumed that was meant to celebrate a successful transaction. To that woman, though, seventy thousand was probably a pittance. She intended to sell it for much higher to someone else, no doubt. Plus—although Emilia didn’t know this at the time—selling precious metals like this usually involved a lot of detailed paperwork and record-keeping, but she was never presented with any of that. But that was fine. She wasn’t planning to stay in this nation for long, and the conversation had helped add to her vocabulary.

  More than anything, though, seventy thousand yen would be enough to live in this country for the time being. And with this amount of language skill built up, she ought to be able to apologize to Keiko Yusa by now. Food, bathing, washing—none of it would be a problem from now on.

  Of course, none of this truly solved anything. She had a bag to return and an apology to make, yet she had made no progress at all in her quest to find Satan and slay him. The complete lack of any demonic force everywhere she went was, in a way, unnerving. What were the Devil King and his cohort Alciel doing, hiding themselves in such complete fashion?

  “Could there be humans sheltering them…? No. There couldn’t be.”

  Satan may have been wounded, but there weren’t many human beings who could be exposed to the Devil King’s full force and escape alive. Perhaps they were in the same world, but in some faraway, remote locale.

  “Maybe I better find a way to gain a broader knowledge of this world.”

  And maybe she would be staying here for longer than she’d expected. It was a somber thought she was turning over in her mind when something else hit her.

  “Wh-wha…? That smell!!”

  Just as she took her first step from Ms. Kimura’s shop in the direction of that dwelling she’d shamelessly broken into, she encountered an aroma that drove her appetite into a frenzy. It smelled a bit spicy, but the moment her nostrils picked up on it, her stomach—which had consumed nothing but water these past few days—growled furiously.

  “What…? That aroma… Where is it…?”

  Her legs were driven forward by it until they came to a halt in front of a building. A restaurant, it would seem. It had an exhaust fan in the wall that blasted out air that seemed specially designed to tempt your taste buds. The large window out front had a display of food dishes, although further inspection revealed they weren’t real but rather expertly made models, some even featuring chopsticks floating in the air as they picked up noodles and spoons ladling some manner of cooked or boiled grain. The numbers below them must be the prices. She looked at her money again.

  “W-well, looks like I have enough!”

  She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her body craved real food. Not the kind of slop designed just to weigh down your stomach, but actual cuisine, prepared by a well-trained, diligent chef, guaranteed to make your whole digestive system happy.

  <“‘Chinese food…’ Mm. Chinese food.> …Off we go!”

  In grand spirits, she slid the glass door open.

  <“Hello and welcome!”>

  A now-quite familiar phrase was shouted out across the space. Emilia wouldn’t leave for almost another two hours.

  After the whirlwind of new sensations she experienced in that Chinese restaurant, she returned “home” to that building. Yes, in the midst of that outing, she had learned it was called an “apartment.” With the money she had, she should’ve been searching for some kind of lodging, but she marched straight over there anyway.

  She had illegally snuck into Room 501 of the Urban Heights Eifukucho building. The window was unlocked as it had been before her first arrival, Keiko Yusa’s bag and property right where Emilia left them. Despite the twinge of guilt she felt about it—being a repeat offender now, treating this like it was her own domicile—she had decided to sleep here again today.

  “Funny, though,” she said as she looked around the apartment. Compared to the bathhouse, Kimura’s precious-metal shop, and the Chinese restaurant, this building was clearly a recent construct. Why was such a new and large-scale housing complex so barren of people? She browsed around the building a bit before reaching her room, but none of the structure was incomplete, or had been torn apart, or whatever. This allowed Emilia two free nights of lodging and the freedom to use her newfound money elsewh
ere, so she had nothing to complain about, but it still made her wonder.

  Plus, she still had no idea who Keiko Yusa really was. Along those lines, maybe she should have talked over matters with Ms. Kimura some more. There would be no letting her guard down around her, though. Emilia appreciated her help with the bath and the gold coin, but that old lady had easily seen that she was a suspicious, likely homeless woman from a very strange land. Emilia was here to slay the Devil King; she had no intention or need to interact with this country’s people very deeply, and if it really was as peaceful as it felt, then she didn’t need to get involved anyway.

  This implied that she couldn’t get too chummy with Keiko Yusa, either, but she still had a valid reason to contact her—to apologize for threatening her, and to give back what she’d unintentionally borrowed from her.

  “It’d be nice if I knew a little more about this place, but…hmm…”

  Ample shelter; clean bathing facilities; delicious food. Fully satisfied, body and soul, for the first time in a while, Emilia sprawled on the floor, stretched out, and closed her eyes. She had been surprised this morning, but no matter how deeply she slept tonight, there was no way she’d fail to notice someone approaching.

  The darkness behind her eyelids conjured up assorted memories of her time here. The shock upon falling into this world bathed in light, its gigantic stone towers pressed against one another. The first time a constable barked at her, nearly capturing her before she could flee. The time she spent jumping from stone tower to stone tower—they were apparently called “skyscrapers”—in an attempt to get out of a driving rain, yet unable to enter any of them. The three days she spent in a city park, drinking the free water—and the constable who discovered her on day three, ensuring she could never go back. That time she was so hungry she’d entered a shop attempting to buy something with her gold and silver coin, only for the language barrier to turn things into a dispute that sent the constables after her again.