Copyright
THE DEVIL IS A PART-TIMER!, Volume 13
SATOSHI WAGAHARA, ILLUSTRATION BY 029 (ONIKU)
Translation by Kevin Gifford
Cover art by 029 (oniku)
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
HATARAKU MAOUSAMA!, Volume 13
© SATOSHI WAGAHARA 2015
First published in Japan in 2015 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2019 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Wagahara, Satoshi. | 029 (Light novel illustrator) illustrator. | Gifford, Kevin, translator.
Title: The devil is a part-timer! / Satoshi Wagahara ; illustration by 029 (oniku) ; translation by Kevin Gifford.
Other titles: Hataraku Maousama!. English
Description: First Yen On edition. | New York, NY : Yen On, 2015–
Identifiers: LCCN 2015028390 | ISBN 9780316383127 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385015 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385022 (v. 3 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385039 (v. 4 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385046 (v. 5 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316385060 (v. 6 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316469364 (v. 7 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316473910 (v. 8 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316474184 (v. 9 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316474207 (v. 10 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316474238 (v. 11 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316474252 (v. 12 : pbk.) | ISBN 9781975302658 (v. 13 : pbk.)
Subjects: CYAC: Fantasy.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.W34 Ha 2015 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015028390
ISBNs: 978-1-9753-0265-8 (paperback)
978-1-9753-0266-5 (ebook)
E3-20190313-JV-NF-ORIIN
PROLOGUE
Just as the cloak of night was being drawn across the twilight sky, it had reached the home of a set of human beings, its precarious grip on life resisting the darkness.
Its sharp eyes pierced through the darkness, its growling all but forcing anyone near to focus upon it. Its frame was large, all too large compared to others of its kind. Its stomach was large enough to store vast amounts of prey, and the bright crimson that covered its entire body won over the night itself. It was, perhaps, exactly the appropriate kind of eerie, unseen form to be crawling around at the cusp of darkness.
But there was a simpler way to describe the ominous presence. To be succinct, it was the mount belonging to the Lord of All Demons. The sharpened, glowing eyes; the growl that echoed in your bones; the vast size; the appetite—it was all there so the one at the very peak of demondom would have a mode of transportation befitting his brilliant majesty. And the Lord of All Demons himself was clothed in crimson as vivid as his mount’s armor, his determined eyes surveying the human world when darkness began to consume it.
In another moment, the lord and his mount arrived at a human residence, just before the sun abandoned it for good. The poor humans—once again unable to resist the workings of the universe that robbed them of sunlight—had scrambled to project their own light into that darkness, to keep themselves safe by staving off the black that little bit longer.
The crimson-garbed Lord of All Demons left his bright red helmet with his trusty steed as he took an initial merciless step toward the light. His mount closed its glowing eyes, calmed its growling roar, and rested the body that had brought him all this way as it waited. Its master’s black feet took step after powerful step forward, edging closer and closer to the mortal domicile.
All that separated him from the inside was a single feeble-looking wooden door. To the Lord of All Demons, it would be child’s play to batter it to splinters, but his motivations were elsewhere. For a single moment, he lent an ear to the voices of the humans inside—and then a smile befitting the ruler of the demon realm crossed his face.
He opened his mouth. A voice that made all who heard it look up in anticipation. A voice that stirred the appetites of everyone nearby. A voice that would make anyone open the door for their rightful lord—
“Hello! MgRonald delivery!”
“Oh, wow, it’s really you! I’m coming!”
With the young female voice came the sound of a rickety-sounding dead bolt unlocking itself.
“Thanks for coming by!”
“…No worries, Chi.”
Sadao Maou, MgRonald crewmember in his standard-issue red Windbreaker, found the tension ease a bit from his salesman’s grin, giving Chiho Sasaki a bit more of a sincere smile as he recognized her. He was in front of Room 201 of Villa Rosa Sasazuka, the two-floor wooden apartment building in the Sasazuka neighborhood of Tokyo’s Shibuya ward—in other words, his own residence. He himself had walked right through that door this morning, on his way to the MgRonald in front of Hatagaya station, and this was well within his restaurant’s delivery range. When an order came in, it was the full responsibility of the Lord of All Demons and occasional shift manager Sadao Maou to ferry it over.
But it was with a somewhat cool, nonbusinesslike expression that Maou called to the people inside, removing the combo meals and receipt from his insulated bag and handing them to Chiho.
“Y’know, not for me to say, but honestly, ordering this much for two meals in a row is kinda scary.”
“Indeed, my apologies. It wasn’t my intention earlier this afternoon…”
It was a well-built middle-aged man who replied, his face remorseful.
Meanwhile, Chiho examined the receipt to ensure the order was complete as delivered. “Nord gave everything over the phone that Erone asked him to. I don’t know how Acieth found out about it, but she did, and she insisted on throwing some more in, too. Um, this should be all of it.”
The man called Nord took a five-thousand-yen bill out of his wallet and presented it to Maou.
“Well, lemme just say, that archangel all you humans are worshipping got fat enough in a week that her BMI’s probably up in the next category by now. My job’s to deliver whatever you guys order, but you gotta understand, it’s the job of a guardian to watch over the health of their kids, y’know? …Out of five thousand…forty-five yen in change.”
“…You have my appreciation.” Nord nodded, not having anything to counter with—and just as he did, there was a thumping sound of someone storming up the outside stairs.
“Ooh, that is here!”
“I’m hungry.”
“Whoa!”
Two small, thin figures half stumbled into Room
201, zooming right past both sides of Maou. Behind them was a grown woman’s voice, chasing upstairs after them.
“Acieth! Erone! Wash your hands before you eat! …Oh, don’t eat straight from the bag like that, you two! At least lay it out on the table first.”
“What you want? I am the hungry! Which one did you eat during the lunch, Erone?!”
“This one. It has…um, mayonnaise? I like it.”
“Ooh, yes, the mayonnaise is very good! But this I have eaten before. I want the new thing first!”
“The man from this afternoon said that one over there is a seasonal item.”
“Ooh, I must eat that! Give it!”
“Okay!”
The two children lunged for their meals—Acieth Alla, a single shock of purple coursing through her silvery hair, and Erone, a single streak of red in his dark locks. The admonishing voice of the grown-up behind them may as well not have existed as they began to eagerly devour the greasy feast before them.
“Wash…your hands, you two…”
The purple-haired woman following behind watched with Nord, a look of exasperation on her face.
“Uh, Laila?”
She awkwardly turned toward Maou, as if just now noticing him.
“You guys are letting Erone and Acieth stomp all over you, aren’t you?”
“No, um…”
“Well…I mean…”
“I know Amane and the landlord have their takes on this, and if Chi and Ashiya are okay with it, I don’t mind them hanging out in Room 201. But if I come here and there’s bits of food and wrapping all over the place, you can’t expect the Devil King’s Army to take that sitting down, all right?”
““…All right.””
Laila, archangel from heaven, and Nord, father of the Hero of another world, shrugged their shoulders and spoke in tandem at the understandable warning from the fast-food courier.
“Oh, it’s all right!” shouted Chiho to quell the heavy atmosphere, both hands balled into fists. “I heard about lunch today, so I brought along some boiled spinach and coleslaw salad I made so Erone and Acieth can have some vegetables!”
Indeed, there were a couple of familiar-looking plastic containers on the table. Maou had seen them many a time.
“Also, Ashiya just went out to buy some fish, since he said eating meat all the time would mess up their diet. He wasn’t sure whether to go with salmon or mackerel, though.”
“Oh? Well, huh.” Maou’s face loosened up a bit as he saw Chiho’s concern, picturing his faithful retainer and Great Demon General keeping up appearances around the house while he was gone. “Shouldn’t you guys be ashamed of yourselves, then? You’re grown people. One of you’s an angel even.”
““We are terribly sorry to have let you down,”” Nord and Laila said, bowing their heads at the Devil King’s lecture.
“Ashiya’s one thing,” Hanzou Urushihara protested in what he knew would be in vain from the side, “but I think you should probably get my permission before Chiho Sasaki’s, dude.”
He may have been lower on the totem pole than even Chiho, despite being one of the room’s permanent residents, but he might have had a point.
“…Well, thank you very much for the order,” Maou went on to Chiho, indeed ignoring him. “We look forward to serving you again.”
“Thanks, Maou,” she replied. “You’re closing today, right? Hang in there!”
“Yeah, sorry to make you fill in here for me, Chi. Let Ashiya or Suzuno know before you leave, okay?”
“Sure thing!”
Leaving management of his apartment—his Devil’s Castle—to this teenage girl, he hurried down the stairs to Red Dullahan II, his delivery vehicle.
“Devil King! Wait!”
Before he could make it all the way down, a voice from above stopped him. Looking up, he saw his neighbor, Suzuno Kamazuki, leaning over a bit from the landing. A smaller figure was at her legs, eyes open wide and waving in the most darling fashion.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
It was Alas Ramus, Suzuno serving as her nanny while her “parents” Maou and Emi were at work.
“Bye-bye! Hang in dere!”
“…You got it!”
Bottling up his frustration at having to leave her alone, Maou tensed his face and gave an exaggerated wave to his daughter, adding a light nod and stare at Suzuno as a token of his appreciation.
“Right, Alas Ramus. Back inside we go. It’s too cold out here.”
“Suzu-Sis, c’n I eat Magronato’s?”
“I don’t know if you can eat as much of it as Acieth can until you grow up a little, Alas Ramus.”
“But Accith c’n…”
Maou could barely make out the fading conversation as he boarded his motorbike and put on his helmet. Getting to hear his daughter’s voice helped restore the flagging motivation he had for this shift. Then he heard another familiar voice behind his back.
“Ah, Your Demonic Highness. Keep up the good work.”
Maou lifted his visor as he waved at the returning Ashiya. “Yep. You went out to buy some fish?”
“I did—and I tell you, my liege, the incompetence of the Justina family is enough to make me cover my eyes in shame. I see that their children are probing the furthest bounds of gluttony in our landlord’s residence as well. Ms. Sasaki and I must teach them the fundamentals of a good diet, or I fear Acieth’s and Erone’s health will fail them before long.”
“Yeah, and if that happens, who knows how the hell that’ll turn out, huh?”
Considering the circumstances that led Erone to set up shop in Villa Rosa Sasazuka, Maou figured that maintaining the good health of the children of Sephirah was job number one for all of them. The people closest to these children, though, had next to no interest in putting that into action.
“Sorry to put you through all this.”
“Not at all. In the long term, this will benefit our future Devil King’s Army. Oh, and would grilled mackerel suffice for dinner tonight, my liege?”
“Sure. Haven’t had that in a while.”
Maou nodded, undid the side brake on his bike, and fired up the engine.
“See you later for now.”
“Very well. Drive safely.”
With a wave, Maou set off back to his workplace, making it back without hitting a single red light.
“Oh, perfect. We just got our next order in.”
There at MgRonald, as if lying in ambush, was Emi Yusa—Maou’s sworn enemy and (of recent days) shift mate behind the counter.
“Here’s the address…and here’s the order. It’ll be ready in three minutes. Kawacchi and Ms. Kisaki are out, so you’re up for this one, too, Mr. Maou.”
He could never get used to Emi addressing him with a “mister.”
“Oh…yeah, this office’s ordered with us a bunch of times, haven’t they?”
“Right. Ms. Kisaki’s handled all the deliveries so far, though. Don’t disappoint them.”
Emi flashed him a mischievous smile, and he couldn’t help but respond in kind. “Don’t be stupid.”
Mayumi Kisaki, manager of the MgRonald in front of Hatagaya station, had the kind of model-like beauty and proportions that palpably attracted regular customers who’d otherwise go elsewhere.
“I got to see Alas Ramus for a second just now. Looks like she’s behaving.”
“Yeah, she’s never a bother at all when she’s at Bell’s place. Did my father make that order a moment ago?”
“…Pretty much,” Maou said before giving Emi a summary of Nord and Laila’s negligent parenting.
“Hmm. I’ll have to make up for this with Chiho later…”
“I suppose, but you really need to talk to your parents, you know that?”
“…”
This made Emi pause a bit. Thanks to certain events in the past, relations between her and Laila were about as bad as they had ever been.
“You still haven’t really done it, have you? And I don’t wanna butt into yo
ur family stuff, but it’s kind of hurting Chi and the rest of us, so I really wish you could get it over with, y’know?”
“I know, I know…”
As Emi gave the reply—one that indicated she knew all of that but had no interest in translating it into action on her part—Maou spotted a full insulation bag placed on the counter for him.
“Well, back to work. See ya.”
“…Sure.”
Maou gave a glance at the receipt as he picked up the bag and half jogged out the front door. Soon, the helmet was back on, his butt on the seat, the side brake off, and the key—attached to his belt with a cord—in the ignition. It was now well into the evening as he sped down the city streets, taking the time spent at a red light to think about how depressed Emi looked.
“Well,” he mused inside his helmet, “we’ve been through a lot.” And they had. No matter what the circumstances, if you ran into people regularly and started working with them, you couldn’t help but start exhibiting all kinds of emotions around them. Smiles and more.
“All part of normal life, I guess.”
The light turned green. Maou shook off the cobwebs and twisted the throttle, white vapor coming out from both the tailpipe and his own lips as the city settled itself into winter.
THE DEVIL GETS TOUGH
Off duty this evening and already changed out of her uniform, Chiho returned to the staff room to check whether there were any mistakes on the November shift schedule passed out that day.
Only then did she notice something was off. The schedule was sorted by name first, and Chiho thus knew that she’d always be in row twelve of the spreadsheet. Maou was usually ninth and Emi twenty-fifth, but for whatever reason, Emi was moved up to row twenty-four this month. It wasn’t until she began copying her schedule into her notebook that she realized why.
“Oh, right! Kota’s gone!”
Kotaro Nakayama, one of the more talented among the younger crewmembers, was the missing row on the sheet.
“He was trying to get a full-time job somewhere, wasn’t he? Wow. I guess he really quit.”
The thought saddened her just a little as she reexamined the schedule. She had heard the news before—on several occasions, including from Kotaro himself—but seeing his name vanish like this made it seem like time had flown by all too fast.
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 13 Page 1
