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

by Satoshi Wagahara

  After a few minutes, the news switched over to a report about a string of late-night convenience-store robberies and muggings of women and the elderly, apparently carried out by a crazed maniac wearing bizarre clothing. Listening to the lurid details was enough to darken Emi’s mood all over again.

  Some days, it just felt like one depressing thing piling on top of another.

  Emi was a part-time contractual employee for a call center.

  Her office was in a branch of Dokodemo, a nationwide cell phone provider, located in a business district about ten minutes from Shinjuku station’s east exit. Her department chiefly handled complaint processing and customer service.

  Very few people, even the kind of people who willingly worked at call centers, actively volunteered for the complaints department. That was why she landed that for her first job in the world, and why she still held it down now.

  Being constantly short on staff, the department paid handsomely. Someone like Emi, with an attractive voice and a chip on her shoulder, was an invaluable resource.

  What was more, Emi was gifted with the ability to grasp every language spoken in the world.

  Even when greeted in a language she’d never heard before, her brain had a sort of telepathic ability to understand at least the general outline. All she had to do was reply with her own general emotions, and the caller understood. To an impartial observer, this would apparently be interpreted as her fluently speaking English, French, Korean, Chinese, anything.

  Walking into the office locker room, Emi changed into her uniform: a gray vest, a tight skirt, a blouse, and a bow-tie-shaped ribbon. She then clocked herself into the company system and sat down at her assigned cube. Not being a full-time employee, she had yet to be granted her own exclusive desk, but given the department’s chronic staff shortage, she usually found herself among the same island of cubes.

  “Morning, Emi!”

  “Oh, hey, Rika.”

  Rika Suzuki had called out from the adjacent seat. Her employee number was only one removed from Emi’s, so they would always find themselves seated next to each other when both were on duty. Her short brown hair was a smart match for the gray uniform.

  “Hey, did you hear about that crazy shootout? That was right near you, wasn’t it?”

  Emi’s heartbeat accelerated for a moment, but she was never the kind of girl to wear her emotions on her sleeve.

  “Well, three train stops away, but…yeah.”

  “Oh? Well, still, a gun battle right in the middle of Tokyo! Nuts, isn’t it? Japan’s gonna go down the tubes before too long if that keeps up.”

  The morning news simply reported that shots were fired, but in Rika’s mind, it had already escalated into an action-film bloodbath.

  “And, you know, there’s been all these earthquakes lately, there’s some weirdo robbing people on the street… It’s outrageous! The whole world’s going crazy, and it’s draggin’ all of us down with it. Oh! There’s a new curry place opening up today, did you hear about that?”

  Emi was already used to the unexpected new directions in which the women of this world could suddenly take a conversation.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “One of the big joints in Shimo-Kitazawa opened up a new location. Wanna join me there for lunch, maybe?”

  “Ooh, but if it’s popular, won’t there be a line and stuff?”

  “It’ll be worth it!”

  Ever since she arrived in Japan, Emi had been repeatedly floored by the vast variety its kitchens offered. Curry, in particular, was a revolution for her senses and her taste buds when she first tried it, exceeding all expectations she ever had for a decent lunch. That astonishment remained today, long after she had grown accustomed to other aspects of the Japanese lifestyle. Rika’s invitation sorely tempted her, but for today, with painful reluctance, she found herself shaking her head.

  “Well, sad to say, I don’t have time to stand in line today. I lost my purse.”

  “Oh, no way! Really?!”

  Rika’s reaction was so grandiose, Emi was concerned she would tip over her office chair.

  “Yeah, and it had everything in it, too. Train ticket, bank card, credit card… So I have to go visit my bank to deal with all that and withdraw some money.”

  “Ooh, yeah, no waiting around for lunch today, then.”

  “Sorry about that!”

  “Oh, no problem, no problem. So you wanna just hit up Maggie’s or whatever instead?”

  “Ooh, anything but Maggie’s.”

  To Emi, Rika was more than just a coworker—she was the first friend she’d found in this world. Her influence was part of the reason Emi had fallen into the habit of saying “Maggie’s” instead of “MgRonald,” for one.

  Maou had picked on her for not having any friends, but the only thing she lacked for on Earth were friends from Ente Isla. A pity that no acquaintances lived nearby the Hatagaya neighborhood in Sasazuka. Then maybe she wouldn’t have gone through all that anguish overnight.

  “You better cancel all those cards real soon, though, right?”

  “I already put a temporary stop on them, yeah. That much you can do over the phone.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, you just name the place, Emi! It’s on me today! Don’t want to leave you heartbroken, after all.”

  “Ah, you don’t have to do that…”

  They continued on in this fashion until the starting bell rang.

  Emi checked the interoffice mail on her assigned PC, where the day’s special issues to watch out for would be waiting.

  The first call signal had already sounded off from one cube or another.

  Being a subsidiary of Dokodemo, the calls were naturally all about issues related to cell phones. The morning report mentioned that phone service had been knocked out for a period last night in part of the city’s center due to electrical issues.

  If anyone was itching to complain today, that would be the main reason. Emi could hear Rika sigh in the next booth over. Plainly she thought the same thing.

  Emi received her first call practically the moment she set her terminal to standby mode. An elderly woman, having trouble understanding the jargon in the instruction manual. After politely walking her through the problem, she received another call five minutes afterward. It was a transfer from another station with a “foreign language” code attached.

  The department would be loath to admit it, but the staff relied almost wholly upon Emi for all non-Japanese support.

  Apparently it was a Chinese man who couldn’t read the Japanese manual and decided to just try the phone number printed on the back.

  And so the flow of inquiries continued, Emi handling each one efficiently and effectively. By the time she noticed the clock, it was already near her lunch break. The call load always tended to slow down a bit once the afternoon rolled around.

  “Ugh! There’s just so many complaints today!”

  Rika was groaning in the adjacent cube.

  “Like, try to at least make an effort to figure it out yourself, Grandpa!”

  Rika, after spending over an hour battling it out with a middle-aged man accusing the manual of excess crypticness, still had a tightly stretched smile on her face as she banged her fist against the desk several times.

  “So are you going anywhere besides the bank today, Emi?”

  “Umm…”

  In recent days, she had been turning down lunch offers from her coworkers so she could spend time spying on Maou. The mere idea of continuing the surveillance filled her with indignant rage.

  “Nope! Just the bank!”

  “But Kakui, too, right? Since you need to cancel that card. So how ’bout we check out that new okonomiyaki place next to Kakui? The crowds there have probably thinned out a little bit by now.”

  “Sounds good. Give me one sec, okay? I need to check where the nearest bank branch is… Hmm?”

  Another foreign-language call transfer popped up on Emi’s terminal.

  “Ooooh, you
hate to see that before lunch!”

  “Hey, it’s a living.”

  The individual timing behind lunch breaks depended on how many people were on staff each day. A call-center staffer unlucky enough to field a particularly talkative customer could wind up seeing their break pushed to later in the afternoon.

  Flashing a reassuring smile to the obviously peeved Rika, Emi adjusted her headset and prepared her standard English-language greeting.

  “Thank you for your patience! This is Emi Yusa from the Dokodemo customer support team. How can I—”

  “…Yusa?”

  “Huh? Um, yes?”

  The soft, muffled voice that recited Emi’s last name was plainly speaking native Japanese, something obvious enough even with two short syllables.

  “Yes, this is Yusa. How can I help you?”

  “Yusa…is it? You’re a full-fledged Japanese woman by now, aren’t you, Emilia the Hero?”

  “Ah!”

  Emi gasped. She tried to keep Rika in the adjacent booth from noticing her shock, but a shiver still ran down and across her throat.

  “May I ask who’s calling, please?”

  “Someone who knows of the Hero, and the Devil King. And someone who is driven to destroy the both of you.”

  Emi had no recollection of this voice.

  “So you were trying to utilize the network late last night?”

  “It was unexpected to see the Hero and Devil King engaged in tandem operations.”

  “Yes. It was a very regrettable situation for us as well.”

  “Heh-heh-heh… I could imagine. You may consider me an assassin, one sent from Ente Isla. And you may consider our encounter last night as a method of introducing myself.”

  “… …”

  It was difficult to make any bold moves. She had no idea who the person on the other end of the line was. Then, he made an even more confounding statement:

  “I am here to eliminate Satan, the Devil King, and Emilia the Hero, in the world they have traveled to. It is both my mission and the will of Ente Isla.”

  “What?!”

  Emi—Emilia—could no longer hide the shock.

  Why would Ente Isla, the land returned to peace and stability by human hands, want her dead?

  “I…I’m afraid that we will be unable to provide an answer to that without further consideration…”

  “Heh-heh… Consideration, is it? I am keenly interested to see what the Hero and Devil King have left to consider, judging by the way they tucked their tails and fled from such a simple attack.”

  The voice seemed to echo ominously, as if rattling up from the depths of darkness. Emi recognized that tone. It could only come from the demon world. Suddenly her mind was cool, serene, as she regained her Heroic composure.

  “None of Satan’s generals survived apart from Alciel. What part of the demon realm are you from?”

  “… …”

  “You can try to shock me into submission with your lofty words about the ‘will of Ente Isla.’ But it will never faze me! I have no time for the prattlings of a monster.”

  “I see. A pity you choose not to believe me. We will meet again, soon.”

  The conversation ended earlier than she expected.

  With a heavy sigh, Emi removed her headset.

  Rika, in the adjacent seat, looked on incredulously, having little clue what Emi was talking about or what kind of conversation they were having. Emi turned back to her.

  “It takes all kinds in this world, doesn’t it?”

  “I…guess so.”

  Rika still looked skeptical, but apparently decided the topic wasn’t worth dwelling upon.

  Soon, their lunch break arrived. Rika smiled at Emi, her eyes still betraying her curiosity a bit.

  “Hey, sorry. So what did you want to do? Wanna eat lunch first? The bank’s gonna be busy right now anyway.”

  “Sure, Emi. If that works for you.”

  Heading for the locker room, she placed her phone, passbook, and seal inside a small tote. Just as she was about to leave, her phone began to vibrate.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She had put on a strong face, but that mystery call from earlier had unquestionably cast a pall upon her life in Japan.

  “Is that your phone?”

  “Yeah…”

  Checking the screen, it was from an unknown fixed-line number within Tokyo.

  “You gonna answer it?”

  “I dunno… I got a bad feeling about it.”

  The phone continued to ring. There was nothing else to do.

  “…Hello?”

  “Hello! Is this Emi Yusa’s cell phone?”

  Emi’s nerves loosened themselves a bit. It was a different voice, a friendly-sounding middle-aged man.

  “Yes! Can I ask who this is?”

  The man had unexpected news for her.

  “I apologize for bothering you. This is the Yoyogi Police Department calling.”

  “Huh?”

  Emi simmered silently inside the waiting room into which she had been led. Her eyebrows furrowed deeply into her forehead, as if chiseled on.

  The ill temper so plain in Emi’s eyes was enough to make even the female officer manning the front desk of the Yoyogi Police Department choose to keep her distance.

  “Sorry to keep you.”

  Eventually, a uniformed officer entered the waiting room and greeted Emi, who lacked the psychological peace of mind to return the favor at the moment.

  “I really appreciate you taking the time to come here. There’s a whole process we have to go through, you understand.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Um, first off, if I could check your ID… Thank you. Now, if you could just write your name and address on this paper and place your seal right here…”

  She was starting to wonder why she bothered to bring her insurance card and seal with her today. They were supposed to help her obtain another bank card, but now here she was, waiting and waiting and waiting.

  Emi signed the document, almost applying enough pressure to rip the paper apart, then smashed her seal into the inkpad before practically stamping it through the sheet and into the desk.

  Slightly put off by this display, but not realizing what was causing it, the officer continued to smile as sincerely as he could at this law-abiding citizen.

  “Right. That should take care of the transfer documentation. Mr. Maou and Mr. Ashiya are waiting in another room, so you can go ahead and leave together. We might need you back here later on if we find out anything, though.”

  “I am not leaving with them!”

  Emi snarled at the officer like a caged tiger.

  “Yeahhh, sorry about that. We couldn’t think of anyone else, so…”

  “We truly, truly wished to avoid relying upon you for this, but…”

  Maou and Ashiya tried their best to keep it cool near the police station entrance.

  “When that detective showed up at the door, man, we were freaking out. I had no idea they could track down our address from my bike! That’s some pretty killer police work.”

  “And the Hero truly was faking her age, too.”

  “Yeah, just like I said, right? You can’t do something like rent a condo if you’re underage—not unless you get some guarantors and your parents’ approval. I don’t know what kind of trick she pulled off, but I figured she had to be registered as an adult, at least twenty years of age. Funny, huh? Usually people round their age downward if they want to lie about it.”

  “Indeed. Unless she wanted to buy some beer. Could that be the main motivation, perhaps?”

  “It doesn’t matter!”

  Emi’s sudden shrill scream made Maou and Ashiya cower before her, covering their ears.

  “Why…? Why does it have to be me…?”

  She was shaking with anger at this point.

  “Why do I, the Hero of Ente Isla, have to serve as a personal ID reference for a bunch of demons?!”

  “Sh-Shut up! You’re being
too loud!”

  Smiling distractingly at the people staring at them, Maou pushed Emi outside of the station.

  “What do you want from us? I told you, we couldn’t think of anyone else!”

  “I had thought about Ms. Kisaki at MgRonald…but even if my liege was the victim here, I feared she would fire him for his issues with the law.”

  “Ahh, I doubt Kisaki’s that kind of manager…but, no, I don’t want to bother her, either.”

  But Emi was singularly uninterested in their excuses. Besides, lending an ear to a demon’s malicious lies would make her a very unworthy Hero.

  “What?! So it’s okay to bother me, then?!”

  “Well, hey, it’s the Devil King’s job to bother the Hero, isn’t it?”

  Emi ran a frustrated hand through her hair. He didn’t have to look so smug about it!

  “How did you even get my phone number?! You didn’t go snooping through my phone last night, did you?”

  “Of course not! You had to write it down when we got taken to the station last time, remember?”

  “Okay, but…but why did you have to name me?!”

  “There was nobody else! What do you want from us? We don’t have any friends, either! Besides, c’mon, we let you sleep over last night.”

  “Nnnnnghhhh!!”

  “Hey, is that your work uniform, by the way? The Hero’s a secretary or something? That’s pretty cool.”

  “Who asked you?!”

  Emi ripped the bow tie off her neck, then hung her head in abject shame.

  “Look, calm yourself, Emilia. What kind of Hero acts like that?”

  “I don’t need you lecturing me, Alciel! Look at you guys! It’s the start of the month, and your refrigerator’s absolutely barren! They called you the greatest strategist of the demon forces! Hah! Don’t you idiots have a budget or anything?!”

  “Urrgh!”

  Alciel fell to the ground, apparently suffering mortal injuries from this brutally accurate verbal strike, groaning something about it not being his fault as he did so.

  “Will you people just take care of yourselves a little more, please?! I had someone making death threats to me over the phone today! And you’re being targeted, too, Devil King! Better be careful, you got that?!”

  “What?”

  Ignoring Maou’s question, Emi placed a hand on her hip, puffed up her chest, and pointed a finger straight at him.