Looks like he was after the music box, like you planned. You’ve always been good at dangling good bait. This is why you went and advertised your absence by crossing the border, right?
Ha. That was never my intention.
Heh, yeah right! Well, now we can openly call him out for it. What do you want, his mines?
We’ll add this to the docket of our meeting when I return...
Alrighty. Man, really... I don’t want to find out what it’s like to have you as an enemy.
The Demon Lord faltered and stumbled against a wall, leaning on it with his arms. It felt like all the energy was sucked out of him.
(What the hell is he talking about!? What about the music box!?)
Of course, the Demon Lord had only sold the music box for money, but it seemed that Tahara and Yu had mistaken that for some kind of scheme... an intricate, ensnaring one at that.
(It feels like I’m the one in the trap!)
The Demon Lord, of course, couldn’t say that out loud, but decided to ask something he had been wondering about.
Anything unusual about Luna...?
After the debacle with White, he wanted to make sure that no part of that event had gotten out. He couldn’t even imagine how much of a mess Luna would cause if she found out that (albeit by accident) he had shared a bath with her sister.
(And she seemed to be troubled...)
He recalled the night of a particular conversation they had. Luna had always had a fighting spirit and a reckless side, but it seemed like that temperament was getting more extreme. The Demon Lord could have been blamed for part of that, egging her on in competing against her sisters.
...Dang.
Tahara remained silent for a while, speechless, for some reason. While the Demon Lord was terrified that the incident in the hot springs had gotten out, he hadn’t expected this response:
There’s just been a report from Xenobia, or something. You didn’t plant this too, did you?
...I don’t know what you’re insinuating.
Fine. I’ll give you the report anyway.
Upon hearing the content of the report, the Demon Lord let out a sigh of relief. While he didn’t really understand what was going on, he considered it a hundred times better than him bathing with the most prominent Holy Maiden coming to light.
Apparently, Luna’s servant’s being transported up there, but it’s just out of the blue. Don’t know how true it is.
I see.
Mister Secretary. Is this something I can pass on to Luna?
The Demon Lord considered this for a moment, when Luna’s saddened face flashed before his eyes.
—Do you have any friends?
Remembering Luna’s uncharacteristically quiet attitude, the Demon Lord decided to give a safe answer.
We don’t want to give her any unconfirmed intel, but let her know whether or not the servant is all right. Knowing Luna, she’ll act up for a while, but go easy on her.
For real...? We’re going to play their game, huh?
(What...?)
The Demon Lord sensed foreboding subtext in Tahara’s response, but couldn’t figure out what it was. So, he rushed to add:
Of course, investigate the intel first.
The Demon Lord just thought that, if this servant was Luna’s friend, she’d want to know. Tahara, on the other hand, already knew that the New Kingdom of Xenobia was starting some sort of mind game. While Tahara hadn’t spent as much time in this world, he expected to be able to pin down what Xenobia was after once he learned the relationships and histories of the neighboring countries.
Hmm. It’ll cost us a bit, but it’s not a bad deal long term.
Tahara was confident that the Secretary would not be satisfied by controlling a mere nation. It was only a matter of time, he expected, until the Demon Lord would make some big, flashy moves in order to swallow up Holylight and its surrounding countries.
(Planting seeds again... Just like with the music box.)
More excuses to start war would only serve them better. Throughout history, it was common practice for any group to use a moral grandstand as justification for conflict.
Oblivious to Tahara’s intentions, the Demon Lord was wondering about something else.
(The friend’s being transported as a slave, right...? I guess that’ll cost a pretty penny.)
The Demon Lord was actually relieved that Tahara didn’t suggest taking the friend back by force.
The cost won’t be an issue. The benefits we’ll reap down the line will be well worth it...
He couldn’t stop thinking that, once her friend returned safely, that pesky old Luna would settle down a bit. Considering that, no amount of money was too much of an investment. The Demon Lord had built up enough of a foundation to afford that luxury, even if they were to rip him off.
Right. Then I’ll start looking into that on my end. Might take a little bit, is that cool with you?
That’s fine.
While they appeared to be having a coherent conversation, the price and goal that each of them had in mind could not have been more different.
After concluding his Communication with Tahara, the Demon Lord sighed in relief... just as Yu sent him a Communication.
Did you get the report, Mister Secretary?
I did. Good work. I’ll contact you with further instructions.
Yes, sir. And, there is something I want to give you, sir, when you return. I’ve been growing some beautiful flowers.
Really!?
He couldn’t help but overreact, surprised by his mad-scientist advisor taking part in such a homely hobby. Of course, Akira Ono didn’t recall writing any kind of backstory for that. He couldn’t help but smile at learning of Yu’s feminine pastime.
I didn’t know you had an interest in such things. How wonderful!
T-Thank you, sir! I will grow them as best as I can to your liking.
Mm. I’ll look forward to seeing them.
Thank you, sir. I’ll be awaiting your return.
After his conversation with Yu, the Demon Lord lit his cigarette, relieved. Yu, who loved dissections and taking things apart above all else, was undergoing a positive change. He couldn’t help but feel excited about that. Yu herself was ecstatic after this Communication, probably that she was going to make numerous inhumane bastards wish they were never born... The Demon Lord would never find out about that, though.
(Tahara’s trying to peacefully solve things financially, and now Yu’s growing flowers...?)
His smile grew wider, considering his advisors’ changes in a peaceful direction. At this rate, it looked like he would have the quiet days he longed for before too long.
“Alright. Why don’t we stop here for the day and head to dinner!”
“...Dinner with Mister Fox... How wonderful.”
“Who made you the boss? You’re just the porter who doesn’t carry anything,” Mikan complained as she tossed her kill into the wagon. In fact, Mikan and Yukikaze had been the only ones hunting today. The only thing the Demon Lord had done was roast Endjoy, both literally and figuratively.
“Come, now. I’m buying.”
“For real!? I’ll get the most expensive stuff on the menu and make you regret it!”
“Watch yourself, or your butt might catch on fire too.”
“...Mikan would like it. Hot melted candle wax.”
“I’ll set you two on fire! Turn you to ash!”
And so, the party survived their first day in the dungeon.
The White Light
After leaving the dungeon, the party went directly to the Guild, where they received payment and paid taxes on it. Just like a day labor site, they weren’t going to let anyone evade these taxes. In fact, the party was taken to the guild under heavy supervision by the guards.
(The full reward...)
The Demon Lord had kept an eye on payout in comparison to the prices Yukikaze had told him, and everything was bought out full price. They backed up their decision b
y pointing out the minimal damaging and precise processing of the carcasses. Naturally, most rookies would have a much different outcome. By the time they caught the Raging Chickens, each of them was tattered and heavily damaged. Combined with their inexperience in taking the monsters apart, it wasn’t uncommon to see Rookie game bought out for 30% less than this.
“Your processing skill, along with the condition of the game, directly affects your reward.”
“...Yes. Mikan is great at taking things apart.”
“Come on, it’s time to pay out. We didn’t really talk about it, so an even split.”
Mikan handed Yukikaze and the Demon Lord a third of the reward each. The Demon Lord shook the small leather bag, enjoying the clinking sound of bronze and silver coins within it. That being said, he didn’t go dungeon-crawling for money.
“I don’t really need my cut.”
“Take it!” Mikan insisted. Her raising her voice caused the people around them to turn and look before walking again, losing interest.
“Sure, you’re a failure of a porter, but your work down there doesn’t affect your cut up here. Remember that every single time you go into a dungeon.”
“I see...”
The Demon Lord picked up a lot from that comment. He did have an incredible imagination — enough to create a whole new world on his own, after all. The Demon Lord theorized that there must have been an incident like that before, and was confident that a porter shortage followed because of it. As long as they were entering the dungeon, portering too was a dangerous occupation. Who would volunteer to risk their life working on commission? Especially when a party member could lower their pay for claiming that they underworked. The adventurers were the ones to suffer without porters, which would eventually lead to the collapse of this nation’s taxation system.
“I’m sure the government began cracking down on that kind of thing.”
“Huh? Well... Yeah, they did.”
Mikan raised a brow at the Demon Lord’s comment that skipped over a few steps in logic. This was how he always was. At times, he could go off on a chain of imagination from a single word. Until proven otherwise, the conclusion he reached was solidified as fact. ...This was the thought process of a dictator. Unchanged by others, he never doubted his choices. This man, albeit vaguely, understood this could be a shortcoming. As a result, he began gathering people around him and listened to various voices. The fact that Hakuto Kunai, the final boss of Akira Ono’s creation, kept a group of advisors he had scouted around him was an indication of his ideals in real life.
“Hey! The heroes are back!” Someone called out, causing a commotion. The kids led the charge outside and the adults followed.
“Hero!? There’s a really a hero here?”
“Huh? No duh. You really don’t know anything, do you?”
“...The Tzardom of Light has two paladins.”
As he secretly contemplated how cool of a ring ‘paladin’ had, he ran towards the center of the commotion.
“My hero!”
“Over here!”
“He’s so white... He glows in the light!”
A large crowd had gathered at the entrance of the city, resembling a celebrity appearance on Earth. All of them were waving and smiling, trying to garner this figure’s attention.
“The white horse really does suit him.”
“...White.”
“Hmph. A hero atop a white steed. A stereotypical... huh?”
Seeing the figure, the Demon Lord’s eyes widened. It was a man atop the beautiful steed, but a rather fat one with a protruding gut. On his face rested a gleaming pair of silver glasses. He had a large white box on his back, with two rods protruding from it. All the Demon Lord could see was a brave soul on his journey home from the comic market.
“Don’t tell me... That’s what they mean by ‘hero’?”
“What are you talking about? Sir Weeb is most definitely a hero.”
“That’s his name, huh!?”
The Demon Lord couldn’t help but break character. Both his appearance and name were fully committed to it.
“...Sir Weeb has the moniker of ‘White Comet.’”
“He is white, but isn’t he just pale from never going outside?”
“...The other paladin has the moniker of Red Devil.”
“Those are the other way around... Where do I start?”
Two newtypes came to the Demon Lord’s mind, but he tried to ignore that image. His ridiculous name aside, Weeb gave a quick wave to the crowd and dismounted his white horse, stopping the string of carriages he was pulling behind him. Seeing this, the children formed a line at once, erupting in cheer. Before they knew it, numerous guards had gathered and started to organize the crowd. To the Demon Lord’s surprise, what happened next was a food distribution. Weeb gave out bread and cheese to the children and a bowl of wheat porridge to the adults, using a large pot. Now it was understandable why everyone welcomed him with smiles.
“Does he always do stuff like this?”
“He goes from one Northern Nation to another for at least half of the year. Amazing, isn’t it?”
Mikan answered the Demon Lord with an impressive attitude. In contrast, the Demon Lord was skeptical. He wasn’t really into donating and volunteering. In fact, if a person asking for donations were to live in a nice home, he would call them out to sell the house and donate the money.
“Is this stunt for popularity? Or are heroes forced to do these things? Or else, does that Tzardom order them too?”
“How cynical are you? The Tzardom keeps telling him to stop, but Sir Weeb keeps buying kids bread out of his own pocket.”
“That’s quite interesting.”
“...In his own country, he is criticized for sticking his nose into foreign affairs and courting favors.”
“...Really?”
The Demon Lord’s expression changed. His skeptical gaze changed into that of a bird of prey, a piercing glare that wouldn’t have missed the slightest change in the man’s expression.
“Dinner’s canceled. You two go enjoy yourselves.”
“Did you forget that you were going to buy!?”
“Get something to eat with this.” He tossed them a coin.
“Huh...? Hey, this is a gold medallion! What are you thinking!?”
The Demon Lord tried to leave it at that, but Yukikaze grabbed his sleeve. Her expression was filled with sorrow. Even the Demon Lord couldn’t help but feel guilty for clouding that flawless face. He added, gently, “well, uh, hrm. Get anything you want. Split it if there’s too much food.”
“...Dining with you is more important, Mister Fox. I don’t need money.”
“Then let’s go tomorrow. There’s no rush, really.”
“...Promise? If you don’t, you have to sleep next to me.”
Yukikaze held out her pinky, and the Demon Lord frowned. Just imagining doing a pinky promise in the middle of the street gave him a headache. Without mercy, Yukikaze wrapped her pinky around his and one-sidedly solidified the promise. The Demon Lord watched this happen to him with an apathetic gaze, then disappeared into the crowd.
“...Dinner or sharing a bed? It’s a win-win situation for me.”
“You’re pretty sneaky, aren’t you?” Mikan mumbled before becoming enchanted with the glittering gold medallion in her hand, jumping into the air with a triumphant fist to the sky.
“We’re going to feast tonight! It’s his money, I’m going to eat it all!”
“...In the same bed. Together ’til morning. Stuck together. Melded together.”
The pair left with smiles on their faces, each with a different reason to be happy.
——The slums of the town of Rookie.
Weeb was walking down a quiet alley at night. With a tattered cloak covering everything but his ordinary face, he almost looked like a beggar on the streets. He was in a part of town that every city here had: the slums. Where there was light, there was darkness, and the brighter the light, the darker
the shadow. Even the financially bustling town of Rookie was no exception.
Lower class residents and adventurers gathered at the dimly lit food stands here and there, shoveling cheap, disgusting food down their throats. Weeb approached a stall and spoke to the owner.
“What do you have today?”
“Wheat porridge for three bronze coins. Four if you don’t have your own bowl.”
“All right. One please, with the bowl.”
“Got some dried radish, too. That’s two extra bronze coins.”
With the wave of a hand, Weeb refused the add-on and took the bowl of wheat porridge. He sat on a rock in the alley and sipped on it.
“Price went up from last year. Fried potatoes cost two bronze coins more now, but come in a smaller portion.”
“Oh, really...?”
Someone responded to Weeb talking to himself. It was the Demon Lord, concealing himself in Stealth Stance. Weeb didn’t show any sign of surprise, though, and continued. “The oil was bad, too. It’s been used for a while... That can’t be good for you. No more lard for stir-frying vegetable scraps, and there’s no salt in this porridge, either.”
“You have an eye for detail.”
“Not as much as you do.”
With a chuckle, Weeb sipped on the porridge again. With close to no flavor, it was difficult to swallow. Compared to the porridge he had served earlier, which had been properly seasoned, he couldn’t help but be disappointed.
“You’re interesting. Immoral good deeds are better than moral inaction.”
“Immoral... I can’t argue with that.”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s a compliment... Not everyone can tour countries all year to serve people on the streets. Especially when it endangers your status in your own country.”
“Status... I just do as I please.”
“Your own decisions are that important to you...?”
The voice chilled Weeb to the bone. He looked up for the first time, hand instinctively reaching for his sword. The Demon Lord’s tone was malicious enough to warrant it; it felt as if countless hands had sprouted from the earth and were entangling him...
Demon Lord, Retry! Volume 3 Page 9
