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

by Satoshi Wagahara

  The kitchen counter boasted an array of thin, dull, flimsy-looking plastic accessories, all likely purchased from the hundred-yen store, as well as a few stacks of ceramic bowls and such, none of their designs customized for the season or anything. A garbage bag was thrown into one corner, crammed to the brim with MgRonald packaging, ready for disposal whenever anyone gave enough of a damn to take out the trash.

  There was also a stainless-steel trash bin with a funky flower motif, another garbage bag lining the inside. The dents and old packing-tape markings one could spot here and there suggested the bin was a relic from the local thrift shop.

  The refrigerator that made the already cramped kitchen even more constrained was a medium-sized model, likely meant for a single-person household. A MgRonald desk calendar with “Monthly Shifts” written on it was tacked to the door with broken bits of old kitchen magnets.

  “I…I live by myself, and I still live better than this. You’ve got two of you holding jobs, and this is the best you can do?”

  Emilia was trying to condemn Maou’s pathetic lifestyle, but Maou’s interest was laid upon a completely different subject.

  “By yourself? You don’t have any friends?”

  “Shut up!”

  Without skipping a beat, Emilia threw the nearby tissue box at him. Maou nimbly dodged it, and it harmlessly bounced off a stack of free newspapers and job-search magazines, tied up with plastic twine, before falling with a thud upon the tatami mats.

  “The…the archbishop was supposed to join me! We were going to head right back home after you were defeated! And…and now look what happened!”

  Emilia was the one who decided to pursue the fleeing Devil King through the Gate at once.

  She had taken the lead position and plunged inside, but once it swallowed her up, it had suddenly shut itself off, leaving the rest behind.

  Her last glimpse of Ente Isla as she looked behind her was the strained face of Olba Meiyer, her friend and one of the six archbishops of the Church, seemingly unable to comprehend what had happened.

  “Hmm…”

  “What?”

  Emi shot a glare at Maou. He shook his head to indicate it was nothing, motioning her to continue.

  Once she touched down in Japan, Emilia went through the same ordeal Maou and Ashiya did—conserve what remained of her powers while attempting to build a life in this new world.

  The main difference was that her part-time work paid a lot more by the hour than Maou’s, enough to let her afford a fairly decent condo-sized apartment.

  “You got a phone?”

  “Yeah. Dokodemo.”

  She took out a sharp-looking touchscreen device, a high-end one, advertised as offering the power of a modern laptop in the palm of your hand.

  “…Well, you win.”

  “I win what?”

  Maou and Ashiya’s phone was an old, unpopular model that was a pain to navigate and sported a camera that would have been hot stuff thirteen years ago. They had concluded that when it came to a phone, talk and text would be good enough.

  “So how long have you been here in Japan?”

  “It…uh, hasn’t been a year yet.”

  “How old are you this year?”

  “Seventeen! So?”

  Most seventeen-year-olds in Japan would still be under parental care. They’d be attending high school.

  So how could this one be living a better, more relaxed life than Maou? It honestly puzzled Maou inside, but he opted not to dwell upon it. It wasn’t like knowing the answer would improve life at all.

  “Well, no matter what happens, we’re gonna need to find a way out of this world before we use up our natural life span. I know you found us and all, but we don’t exactly have the cash to move out of here. So, welcome to the new Devil’s Castle. This one-room apartment is all we need to open the first chapter in our new quest for world domination.”

  Maou attempted to affect as much bluster as he could, using his chopsticks to point at her as he did. Her expression as she looked around the room was part doubt, part sympathetic compassion, and part natural wariness.

  “Do you think you can back up all that junk, though? A Devil King living day to day off menial part-time work?”

  “I am not your typical demon, Hero. I know I cannot solve every problem with force alone. If you think I’m willing to live out my life in Japan, rolling along with my comfortable job, you are deadly wrong.”

  “Huh?”

  It was Ashiya, unexpectedly, expressing doubt at this statement. Maou ignored him as he himself laughed heartily at Emilia.

  “I fully intend to have Japan in my grasp before long.”

  Emilia tensed up as the Devil King started to sound the part, for a change. Noticing this, Ashiya steeled himself, preparing for whatever might happen. A single word from Maou was all it would take. After a pause, his master spoke.

  “So listen. At MgRonald, if you work hard enough as a part-timer, they have a system where you can become a full salaried employee.”

  “…Uh?”

  Another word was all it took to immediately break the tension. The quizzical looks on faces of Emilia and Ashiya told the whole story. What did the violent takeover of Japan and the human resources department at MgRonald have to do with each other?

  “You should know as well as I do, Emilia, how much your schooling and past experience affect your social position here in Japan.”

  “Yeah. So? That’s ‘Emilia the Hero,’ by the way!”

  “Look, try to use your brain a little, all right? In Japan, we’re magicless. Powerless. The only power we can get our hands on is the title of a salaried employee!”

  Maou belted out a howling laugh, the laugh that once sowed seeds of terror across Ente Isla.

  “So heed my words, Emilia the Hero. My ultimate goal is to become a full-time employee in this world!”

  “I…don’t see how that affects me.”

  Emilia was frozen on the spot, unsure how to react to this unexpected declaration.

  “Soon, the day will come when I outclass even my store manager. Then, as a full-timer, I will build up my stores of cash and social currency. Before long, I will wield enormous powers, forcing massive armies of people in Japan to grovel before me! Then I will use this power as a weapon to invade Ente Isla once more! Well, Emilia? Think you have what it takes to stop me?”

  Ashiya could only stand to the side, unable to speak as he listened to the speech unfolding in terrifying fashion.

  Chopsticks still in hand, Maou stared proudly at the plainly dumbfounded Emilia.

  “…You are so stupid.”

  After a moment, Emilia averted her eyes. Maou, noting this, puffed up his chest in glorious victory.

  “Hah! I thought so! A mere human could never comprehend the extent of my glorious spiritual strength!”

  “If I may,” interjected Ashiya, “I think she said that precisely because she comprehended it.”

  After a sigh, Emilia continued, obviously crestfallen at this anticlimax.

  “This is just exhausting me… I don’t know if it even matters anymore. I’m going home.”

  She wiped her reddened eyes before shooting Maou another glare.

  “But I hope you don’t have the wrong idea. I don’t understand you at all, and I am definitely not going to let you run free. I still have some of my power left. I could kill you anytime I want. But if I do that, I won’t have any way back home. So if I want to get back home, then I won’t be able to kill you. And that’s how it is.”

  What did she hope to accomplish, admitting up to her own predicament? It puzzled Maou as Emilia laid it bare for all the world to see, as if nothing could be more natural.

  “It wouldn’t be fair if you told me about yourself and I didn’t return the favor, would it?”

  This threw both Maou and Ashiya for a loop.

  “Well, how wonderfully thoughtful of you.”

  “So…until I find a way to procure both your defeat and my
pathway back home, I’m not going to take your life. But don’t let your guard down yet!…Ugh.”

  The fatigue was written upon Emilia’s face as she walked toward the door.

  “Also, my name here in Japan is Emi Yusa, all right? Try not to mess it up.”

  “Yeah, sure thing.”

  Emilia opened the door, then turned back toward the two men.

  “Also, what kind of name is ‘Sadao’? That’s, like, a grandpa’s name.”

  Then she slammed the door shut behind her, kicking up dust apartment-wide. Ashiya stared at the door, still reeling. They could hear her tramping down the stairway, and then all was silent.

  The Devil King spat at the unseen “Emi’s” back.

  “All the Sadaos in Japan are gonna make you beg for mercy!”

  “Hi there! Are you dining in today?”

  “I want to talk to you. Outside.”

  The MgRonald in front of Hatagaya station was staying fairly busy today. Enough so that Emi, dressed in a gray business suit instead of the morning’s casual outfit, didn’t even bother hiding her peeved annoyance as she stood in front of Maou’s cash register.

  “To go, then? Okay, what would you like to order?”

  “I want you where we were last night once you get out of work. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Can I make that into a value meal for you today?”

  “Come alone.”

  “Just the sandwich? Certainly! If I could just have you wait one moment by the side here… One Big Mag, please!”

  “You better show up. This isn’t so I can fight you.”

  “Thank you very much! Come back soon!”

  Emi briskly paid for the current seasonal burger, accepted the bag, and left.

  All Maou could think, the businesslike smile never leaving his face, was Dammit dammit DAMMIT repeatedly. There was no way this little “talk” was going to go smoothly.

  “Maou?”

  A voice called for him from behind.

  “What’s up, Chi?”

  It was Chiho Sasaki, one of the new part-timers. She was a second-year high-school student whom Maou had mentored during her training period. Even now, as a full crew member, she still turned to Maou whenever something came up.

  She put her medium-length hair up during her shift, and her natural-born brightness and guileless smile made her a hit with the customers. Maou appreciated how quickly she soaked in all the knowledge she needed for the job.

  “That was kind of a weird customer, wasn’t it?”

  “You mean the…woman just now?”

  “Right. Kind of creepy, huh? And she kept on muttering, too.”

  “Yeah, well, we get all kinds in here.”

  “Do you know her? It sounded like you were having a conversation.”

  Yes, he knew Emi. No denying that. Thinking about it, he realized that Emi, at age seventeen, could be just as old as Chiho. It was funny how they made the exact opposite impression on people. Emi seemed far more mature than her years betrayed…or, more likely, she had a childhood that forced her to grow up fast.

  “Mmm, yeah, a little.”

  Maou hoped to drop the subject as quickly as possible, but Chiho’s sense of curiosity was unlikely to let that ambiguous response pass without comment.

  “Ooh! Something’s up!”

  “What?”

  Chiho peered at him from below, hands clasped together behind her back.

  “And she was kinda pretty, too, huh? Huh? Huh, Maou?”

  “You don’t have to say ‘huh’ three times, Chi! Like, what makes you think her and me are—Hello there!”

  By this point, the instinct to loudly greet every customer who passed through the entrance was embedded into his brain stem.

  “Will this be for here, ma’am?”

  This time, Chiho took up the register. They were out of the rush, so anyone was free to take the front counter as long as they knew the job. Chiho was still new here, but whenever there was a spare moment, she readily sought out and accepted new duties. Maou was impressed enough that he willingly took a step back and let her take over.

  The customer was a kindly-looking mother with baby in hand, a boy who might or might not have been old enough for school yet was clinging to her side. It was a pretty common sight to see at the semiresidential Hatagaya restaurant, once the lunch period ended and the herds of office flacks cleared out.

  The mother’s eyes darted between Chiho and the menu as she placed her order. Suddenly, Chiho’s fingers came to a halt over the register keys. “Just one moment, please,” she said before turning to Maou.

  “Um…Maou?”

  “Yep?”

  It was generally frowned upon for full employees to whisper at trainees in front of customers. Instead, requiring crew members to discuss issues with customers and solve them together helped train the staff and gave customers a better impression of the place. Chiho pointed out the family with her eyes as she continued.

  “This customer’s son has issues with allergies.”

  “Allergies? Certainly. Do you know which types of food trigger these allergies?”

  It was still Chiho’s duty to attend to the customer. Maou worked through her to address the customer’s concerns as politely as possible.

  “It looks like shrimp, crab, and some fruits, too.”

  Maou nodded and provided a colorful menu to the mother as he explained her options.

  “Well, products that include shrimp are required by law to be specifically mentioned on food menus, so as you can see here, it’s used in all of our seafood products.”

  “Oh!”

  The mother, as well as Chiho, seemed oddly impressed by this presentation.

  “Regarding fruit, the government recommends informational displays for kiwifruit, oranges, peaches, and apples. Out of those, apples are the only type used in certain types of seasonings that we use. This includes the sauce on the Teriyaki Burger, for example, as well as some salad dressings. Over on our side offerings, it would also be best to avoid our seasonal fruit-flavored ice cream selection, as well as the vegetable juice.”

  Both the mother and Chiho were held enrapt by this lecture, as Maou pointed out the menu items to be avoided. Satisfied by this, the mother made her choices.

  “By the way, ma’am, would you like to use our microwave?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Huh?”

  Chiho and the mother responded in almost identical fashion. Maou motioned toward the mother’s infant as he continued.

  “If you have any baby food or other products meant for microwave preparation, we’d be happy to assist you with that. If you don’t mind my intrusiveness, I thought you might like your youngest to enjoy lunch with you and your son.”

  The mother glanced at the baby in her arms, a wide grin on her face, before nodding.

  “Well, thank you very much! Here… This should take about forty seconds to cook.”

  She took a vacuum-packed pouch out from her shoulder bag as she spoke. Maou accepted it, then handed it over to Chiho.

  “Here, Sasaki, put this in for twenty seconds. Make sure it’s ready alongside the rest of the order.”

  Employees in Japanese restaurants were expected to refer to each other by last name in front of their customers. Chiho took the vacuum pack and was about to trot toward the kitchen when she stopped herself.

  “Didn’t she say forty seconds?”

  “That’s for a household microwave. We’ve got an industrial one here that’s at least twice as strong, so twenty ought to be enough.”

  “Oh! All right!”

  Chiho nodded respectfully toward Maou before disappearing into the rear kitchen.

  Maou took up the reins from there, accepting payment, arranging the order on the tray, and handing it to the customer. He wound up being thanked multiple times by the grateful mother. Just another small step on the path to a full-time position. And, from there, to conquering Japan. He could physically feel the steadily
forward progress on his skin today.

  “Mmm? What is it, Chi?”

  Chiho, who had reappeared by his side at some point, looked up toward him, practically in awe.

  “That was amazing, Maou!”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, look at you! Did you memorize all that stuff about allergies and what kind of ingredient goes in what?”

  “Well, it’s all in the training manual, isn’t it?”

  Maou replied as if nothing could be less unexpected. Chiho’s excitement continued apace.

  “But that’s still amazing! And you even thought about the baby food, too!”

  “Yeah… Well, that kind of thing’s tougher during the rush, but when you have the time for it, it’s nice if you can be flexible with customer needs. It helps make a better long-term impression.”

  To Chiho, young and chock-full of desire to perform her job well, this was enough to make her sigh in rapt admiration.

  “That’s just so…so cool, Maou! So grown-up and responsible!”

  “Ha-ha… Still just a part-timer, though.”

  The only thing that could have intensified Chiho’s look of awed respect was if the background behind her were literally spewing rose petals in all directions. Suddenly, though, she snapped out of it, her face serious once more.

  “Oh! Speaking of which, Maou, were you okay after the earthquake yesterday?”

  “Um…”

  It was always difficult—as difficult as trying to control the Gate to another world—to predict what kind of sudden new directions a teenage girl would take a conversation. It was astonishing to Maou, and something he had been introduced to only once he had Chiho for a coworker, but he was well used to it by now.

  “Yeah, no real problems. I live in a junky apartment, so I guess my roommate thought it was a pretty big one, but it didn’t shake that much, you know? I didn’t even feel anything.”