The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 1 (4 page)

Yet Maou pedaled on, prodding himself forward as quickly as possible.

It was the last day of the month, a Friday, one that always loosened the strings on his wallet a bit. An important day, too. His store was vying for the number one regional sales prize for the current special menu item. It made Maou burn with excitement. This was it. This would be the day when they would set a new record for Black Chili Pepper Fry sales!

“I don’t need you yelling at me, Ashiya. I’m thinking about this, too…in my own way!”

The lust was still there. His ultimate ambition, as always, was to
conquer Ente Isla. But with no way to return home, there wasn’t much to be done about it. Even if he could teleport over right now, he would be cut down and defeated in the blink of an eye without his magic force.

Meanwhile, in Japan, as long as you kept your nose clean, your chances of being slain on the battlefield were on the low side. And if you regarded this current routine as baby steps on the path to reclaiming the Devil King throne, it was even possible to retain one’s sense of demonic pride.

For now, this was fine. Maou honestly believed that.

He stopped at a red crosswalk signal, his brakes screeching as his front wheel plowed into a water puddle.

Dullahan was a bargain, but its brakes, like the scream of an enraged mandragora, were one sticking point.

At this intersection, cutting through a residential area a block away from the Koshu-Kaido road, there was a small park and a trendy restaurant, its walls covered with glass from floor to ceiling.

Across the street, toward the direction he came from, Maou spotted a woman nestled beneath the restaurant’s rain canopy.

The street was filled with passersby in search of lunch, but this woman caught his eye. She apparently had no umbrella with her. Even from afar, he could see her make a face as she wiped down her hair and shoulders with a small handkerchief in her hand.

Her annoyed stare was pointed toward the sky as the light remained steadily red. She likely wasn’t expecting the rain. Even when the light finally turned green, she remained under the canopy, seemingly at a loss.

Maou, ever mindful of traffic laws, dismounted his bike and walked it across the street. Once across, the woman noticed him for the first time, eyes turned toward his. He nodded lightly at her, then ducked under the restaurant’s canopy next to her, taking care to place Dullahan in between them to dispel any suspicions.

“Um, if you like…”

Folding up his plastic umbrella, he presented it to her, handle first.

“Huh?”

Her clear, refreshing voice sounded confused at first. She looked around her surroundings, unsure how to proceed.

“Oh, I… It just started so suddenly, so I thought you might need it.”

She had seemed like a mature woman, judging by how she looked and acted from across the street, but up close, she looked younger, perhaps even high school age. She was, at least, younger than Maou’s external appearance.

Her flower-print, tunic-length top and tight, skinny denim jeans were a good match for her natural beauty. The rain in her long hair, slightly curled at the ends, gave it a sheen that made it all the more attractive. A pity she didn’t think to pack a folding umbrella inside the small purse hanging from her shoulder.

Her strong, willful eyes were now clearly focused upon Maou, a whiff of anxiety on her face.

“But…are you sure? I can’t just take this from you…”

He had no spare on him, of course. This one had been plucked off the ground; actually spending money on one was an exotic concept to him.

“Oh, no, I work right nearby here, so… It’s only about two or three minutes by bike. We’ve got more umbrellas over there.”

Nervously, the woman took up the handle offered to her. As she did, Maou swiftly remounted his bike, not wishing to make her feel any more indebted.

“Um, thank you very much! I’d like to repay you somehow…”

However, the woman turned out to be more insistent than Maou was expecting. He held his hand upward in response.

“Forget about it. It’s kind of junky anyway. You can go ahead and toss it once you’re done with it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t just…”

Maou turned toward the woman, who was still acting a tad hesitant about the whole thing.

“Well, how about this? I work at the MgRonald right nearby here, so why don’t you stop by for a bite to eat sometime?”

“Right nearby…? You mean the one by Hatagaya station?”

She nodded her understanding as Maou pointed out the direction.
“Yeah. I’ll give you an upsize on the special fries we got right now, if I’m there.”

It was this sort of grassroots marketing that Maou specialized in around the neighborhood. He saw himself as a MgRonald employee everywhere he went in public, and anyone could be a potential customer. The way he saw it, this extra effort was what led to his job promotions.

“All right. I’ll be sure to do that. Umm…”

The woman stood up straight, looking right into Maou’s eyes.

“Thanks again.”

With that, she bowed lightly.

Her smile was like a beautiful ray of sunshine peeking through the distressing rainclouds of his heart.

“Sure thing. Be careful.”

Maou turned around, attempting to hide his pangs of awkwardness. Waving his hand, he plunged back into the rain, never turning back.

“Brrrr! Cold!”

Perhaps that exchange was too knightly for his own good. But it was all for a better tomorrow, better sales figures, and—let one not forget—a better chance at brutally dominating the world.

Also, losing one’s umbrella for a valid reason should make Ashiya release his iron grip on their finances enough that he could purchase a new one, right? If not, he could always take his pick from the umbrella rack in front of the store.

Back at the intersection, the light long since back to red, the woman remained motionless, until Maou was no longer in sight.

In the end, Maou’s location failed to top the Black Chili Pepper Fry charts for the region. One of the fryers stopped working after the lunch rush.

It took two hours for the repairman to show up, and those two hours made all the difference.

A frustrating ordeal for Maou, to say the least, and one he dwelled upon as he lugged yet another bag full of junk food home with him.

The heavy rainstorm was a thing of the past by the time evening
rolled around. That kept him from needing to “borrow” an umbrella from the store, but there was no doubt the foul weather kept customers home.

But was there anything else? Yes, there was the fryer and the rain, but did they go wrong elsewhere at all? The question was all Maou could think about on the way home, as he reached the intersection where he had lent his umbrella out earlier.

“…Huh?”

It was now late night. The restaurant at the intersection had long closed, looking completely dark inside. The only light illuminating the deserted crossing was a lone streetlamp and the blinking traffic signals.

There was someone lurking beneath the restaurant’s canopy.

He hadn’t noticed in the darkness at first, but it was the girl he encountered on the way to work.

“Hey, are you the…?”

Maou stopped himself midsentence. Something was off about this.

The woman was silent as she fixed her gaze upon him. There was something cold, almost hostile in her eyes.

Her smile from before was like a rainbow arcing across the drizzly sky, and now her expression was like an Arctic iceberg, frigid enough to crystallize the sun itself.

She was glaring at him, there was no doubt about that. Maou swallowed nervously, almost cowering at the sensation of her eyes upon him.

Unable to take the woman’s silent leering any longer, Maou mustered up the courage to speak.

“Um…did it work out okay? You didn’t get wet, did you?”

“No, it did not work out okay.”

“Uh?”

Her voice was like a polar vortex in the middle of winter.

“I went to your MgRonald today.”

“Oh? Um. W-well, thank you.”

Now seemed like an unsuitable time to take up the sales pitch. He didn’t remember seeing her while manning the register.

The woman took a step toward Maou, almost making him lose his balance and fall to the ground. Flustered, he jumped off his bike and—for completely different reasons from before—positioned it between the two of them.

“I was watching you. From the place across the street.”

“Watching me?… You mean, the restaurant?”

There was a bookstore that overlooked MgRonald from the other side. She was watching them from over there? Was she one of those mystery diners they kept hearing about?

“No. You.”

“M-me?”

Now Maou was even more confused. She came to the store…but not to return the umbrella, at least? They had barely brushed against each other, and now she was
stalking
him? There was only one—

“…You looked so different from before, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. But after a while, I realized.”

—only one woman who would—

“At first, I doubted my five senses. I knew you were somewhere near, but not
this
near.”

—who would be
looking
for him!

“You can try to hide what little magic you have left, but you can’t fool me!”

Impossible!

“Devil King Satan! Why are you working part-time at the MgRonald in Hatagaya?!”

The flowing jet-black hair; the beautiful, unblemished skin; the keen, magic-detecting eyes. She had to be—

“Y-you…! Emilia, the Hero!”

She was Emilia Justina, the Hero who snatched Ente Isla from the Devil King’s gnarled hands. The Hero glorified as the holy savior of her native land. Why was
she
in Sasazuka?

“Yes! It is I, Emilia! And surely you must know why I am here!”

“Y-you couldn’t be…!”

“You and Alciel, your sole remaining general, may have just barely escaped us. But I have traveled across worlds in the pursuit! If I let
you escape, our world will be enveloped in darkness once again! And before that can happen, I will
destroy you
!”

“W-wait! Wait a sec, Emilia! We can talk this out!”

“Never, Devil King! Prepare to die!”

Suddenly, the Hero Emilia took out a knife and lunged for Maou, slashing at the air. Maou leaped backward, dodging the blade as it zipped past his bike. The once-proud Dullahan clanked to the ground, loudly protesting the unexpectedly rough treatment the entire way.

“Whoa! Watch it!”

“Enough of your cowardly evasion! Stand still and let me kill you!”

“You gotta be kidding me!”

He barely avoided the knife’s second swipe past Dullahan as it coursed just past the pit of his stomach.

Maou took a moment to collect himself. He was weaponless. The trip home from the fast-food joint rarely called for any. That clearly put him on the defensive, but a sense of supreme confidence still filled Maou’s mind. One look at Emilia’s weapon was all he needed to know how this confrontation would end.

“Uh…Emilia?”

“Hmm? Begging for your life, is it? I shall never negotiate with my sworn enemy!”

The forcefulness of her declaration did throw him slightly, but he still managed to croak out an observation—one that had a surprising effect on his opponent.

“Where’s your holy sword?”

“…!”

It was enough to make her visibly gasp.

“You bought that knife at the hundred-yen store in Sasazuka, right? I have that same one.”

“H-how did you…!”

Now Emilia was visibly shaken. The knife in her hand shone dully in the light of the red traffic signal.

“You…you lost all of your holy force, didn’t you? Or even if you didn’t, you can’t afford to waste any, huh?”

“Nnngh…!”

The way Emilia gnashed her teeth in response was all the confirmation Maou needed.

He had expected, to some extent, pursuers from Ente Isla would be forthcoming. But not the Hero herself from the outset. And yet here she was, across the Gate just like himself, sniffing out the trail of his magical force.

“B-but…but you’re in the same situation, aren’t you? Your power feels so weak…so fragile! It’s nothing compared to before!”

“Well…yeah, but…”

Maou winced internally. But there was no point pretending otherwise.

“With or without my holy blade, I have nothing to fear from a Devil King who’s a powerless fry cook! Die!”

Emilia held the knife aloft in the air.

Light flooded over the two of them.

Ashiya, fresh from an ultimately disappointing trip to the National Museum of Western Art’s special exhibit wing, tossed the museum pamphlet into the mail holder. Snapping a four-hundred-gram block of expired discount
udon
in half, he began to boil the noodles in a pot as he waited for Maou’s return.

There was no way either of them could survive only with the food left in the refrigerator. Ashiya had been saving his own money as well, in part to raise the funds for his museum investigations, so he was still able to perform a bare minimum of shopping. He kept this stash a secret from his liege.

“Ugh. He’s bound to bring back more of those chili-pepper fries, I just know it…”

Swatting away the bugs flitting inside from the open window, Ashiya took a glance at the clock.

“Hmm…His Demonic Highness is late.”

“So you’re Sadao Maou, and you’re Emi Yusa? Right. So could you tell me why you were arguing at that intersection?”

“I was there to
slay
this man!”

The Devil King and Emilia were seated on folding chairs at the Hatagaya police substation, a wizened officer in front of them.

“Listen, ma’am, I don’t know what your friend here did to deserve this, but there’s no excuse for going around flailing a knife at him. You need to just calm down and talk things over, all right?”

The officer’s advice was enough to send Emi Yusa, aka the Hero Emilia, into a rage.

“I… Who do you think he
is
to me…?!”

“Right now,” Maou interjected, an angry scowl on his face, “I bet he thinks we’re having a lovers’ spat or something.”