The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 7

by Satoshi Wagahara

“Bell,” Urushihara protested, “you’re just rubbing salt in my wounds, okay?”

  “The newspaper and fruit are fine. We can always have the subscription canceled, and the fruit was not that terribly expensive anyway. I would have said no,” Suzuno said as she held a pear in the palm of one hand, “even if I saw this for half the price at the grocery store, but regardless…”

  “I said quit it, Bell…”

  “The problem is the other three items. Lucifer?”

  “Oh. Uh…check this out, Maou,” Urushihara said as he pointed at his computer screen.

  “This website? ‘Deluxe Life International Holdings’? What’s with that convoluted name? It’s a bunch of random English words strung together.”

  “That’s the website of that sales outfit,” Urushihara explained. “I tried calling the number they listed on there via SkyPhone.”

  “And?”

  “Nobody picked up. I looked it up, and their HQ address is at a mixed-use office building in Tokyo. So I looked up their IP address, but the site’s hosted on a rental server. I don’t think their office PCs are connected to the Net.”

  “…So?”

  “So, I mean, the extinguisher, the futons, the filter… I dunno if we can make ’em take those back. It’s totally a bad company.”

  “Uh… Whoa. Wait a second. You said it was forty-five thousand yen total, right?”

  Urushihara and Suzuno turned their faces away in tandem. The fallen angel didn’t even have so much as a piggy bank to his name—any cash that wasn’t in their shared bank account would have been in either Ashiya’s or Maou’s possession. In other words, whether he purchased this junk via credit or debit, that bank account would have already been charged.

  “Ashiya’s out working right now to make up for the last forty thousand,” Maou grimly intoned. “And now look…”

  Both he and Urushihara felt a cold shiver run down their spines. They were now another forty-five thousand yen in the hole—and it was flushed down the proverbial toilet.

  “We gotta do something before he gets back.”

  “Yeah…or else he’ll go on a demonic rampage!”

  “He is a demon, yes,” Suzuno added.

  “Ashiya said he’d be back on Sunday night,” said Maou.

  “We gotta figure something out,” Urushihara added, “or we may never see Monday morning.”

  “We? I didn’t do anything wrong!” Maou exclaimed.

  “I doubt Alciel would lend an ear to that excuse,” Suzuno sadly retorted. “Truly, Devil’s Castle has become a rudderless boat in his absence.”

  “Ugh! I knew it!!”

  Maou’s scream was enough to make the apartment walls shake.

  “This is it, huh…?”

  Maou scoped out the tenant list on the front of the building. By sheer coincidence, the office building that housed Deluxe Life was within walking distance of Devil’s Castle. He was expecting it somewhere downtown or in one of Tokyo’s entertainment districts, but it was actually a dusty old building, nestled in anonymously among one of the thoroughfares that crossed the Koshu-Kaido road near Villa Rosa.

  “Huh,” he said to himself. “At least they aren’t yakuza or anything.”

  Urushihara calling them a “bad company” kindled that possibility in his mind, but when he summoned his nerve and climbed up the stairs, he found a seemingly typical business space, with a metallic sign and reinforced glass doors forming an entryway. He could see a woman there, too. For Maou, who was here to demand the company issue a refund for the items they pushed on Urushihara, it was something of a relief.

  He pulled the door open, which was enough to alert the receptionist of his presence.

  “Good morning, sir. What can I help you with today?”

  “Um,” Maou began, “a salesman from your company visited us yesterday.” He went on to explain the whole story to the front-desk lady—how they were approached by the salesman, how he wasn’t personally at home at the time, how none of the merchandise had been used, and how badly he needed to return it.

  “All right. This was over in Sasazuka then, sir? Give me just one moment while I find an agent for you, please.”

  The woman rose to her feet, took a thick manila folder out from a cabinet visible from Maou’s seat, flipped through the pages for a little bit, then dialed an internal number on her phone.

  “Hello, I have a return request at the front desk… All right. Certainly.”

  Putting the receiver down, she pointed out a pair of small couches on one side of the reception area. “One of our agents will be here shortly,” she said. “Please, have a seat over there.”

  “Thanks.”

  This was going better than he thought. Maybe they didn’t pick up Urushihara’s phone call simply because they were a small company and ran out of free lines or something.

  As Maou sat and waited, a man in a suit appeared from behind the reception desk. After exchanging a few words with the previous woman, he approached the other sofa. He was thin, bespectacled, and about the same size as Maou.

  “Thanks for waiting! My name is Kuryu, and I’m the returns specialist for our retail division. You were Mister…Maou, correct?”

  “Yes, sir…”

  “And you’d like to return a…let’s see here… Ah, a fire extinguisher, futon set, and water filter?”

  “Right, yeah. That stuff.”

  Suddenly, Maou felt something ominous in the air. He had never given this Kuryu guy his name. Or, for that matter, specified the stuff Urushihara bought—er, was forced to buy. Was Devil’s Castle the only sale they recorded all day yesterday?

  The ominous feeling was quickly confirmed.

  “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news…but I’m afraid we generally don’t accept returns, sir.”

  “…What?”

  “With the water filter in particular, when we installed it in your sink, we ran it once to test it out… I’m afraid we can’t call that ‘unused.’”

  “Whoa, hang on a second! It was just once!”

  That was the truth. Suzuno refrained from using the Devil’s Castle sink once she found out about the fraud.

  “I understand what you are trying to tell me, sir, but as the customer, you were witness to the entire installation process. The water filter is fully covered in our terms and conditions here.”

  “Terms…?!”

  Kuryu handed Maou a sheet of paper he had never seen before.

  “I don’t remember seeing this yesterday,” Maou said.

  “We did hand it to you, sir. It’s the responsibility of the customer to keep track of these things, so there’s not much I can do about that…”

  “How could I have lost it in a single day?”

  “I’m afraid that’s not something I can answer, sir,” Kuryu said, deftly dodging the crux of Maou’s bewildered question. “Also, I’m afraid we cannot accept the fire extinguisher, either.”

  “Huhh?!”

  “Are you aware of the installation standards for those, sir?”

  “Installation what?”

  “Well, in an apartment building like yours, there need to be fire extinguishers in place within twenty meters of all entryways and stairwells—with the proper government-mandated labeling, and housed inside a specialized storage unit.”

  “R-right, but we’ve already got a common-use one out on the walkway…”

  “Yes, but based on the size of your building, you’d be legally required to have at least two stationed on each floor. Twenty meters is the standard, but the exact positioning depends on the area the building occupies…and it would be against the law for us to remove a unit we’ve already installed.”

  Even if that was true, it wouldn’t mean Maou was responsible as a tenant for covering those costs. Maou was quickly beginning to get the picture.

  “Okay, what about the futons?”

  “Well, if they’re in unopened, unused condition, we can certainly accept those, sir. It was a set of seven feather-be
d futons, correct?”

  “…Um, that should be five.”

  “No, it was definitely seven. It’s written right here, sir.”

  Kuryu then produced another sheet of paper, a copy of a sales slip with Urushihara’s childlike signature on it. It resembled the receipt Maou saw at his apartment yesterday, but the printed part of it had a “7” next to the futon field instead of a “5.”

  “…I’m afraid that five futons wouldn’t be a full set. If that’s the case, even if they’re unused, we’d only be able to refund the remaining five futons at their used-goods value.”

  In other words, they weren’t interested in providing a refund from the get-go. They acted like legitimate sellers, then used a mixture of childish excuses and meandering logic to swindle their customers out of their money. And since nothing they sold was clearly defective in nature, they were counting on their victims to eat their losses and chalk it up as a lesson learned. Not even Maou could keep his cool any longer.

  “…You’re seriously gonna pull that act?”

  “What do you mean, sir? You agreed to this entire transaction as our customer. We have the statement right here—and our goods weren’t defective at all, I believe.”

  “That wasn’t an agreement. That was a total rip-off! What kind of idiot would buy feather-bed futons in the dead of summer? Without any sheets, even?”

  “…Sir, that ‘idiot’ was living in your place.”

  The tone of Kuryu’s voice took a sudden nosedive. His face contorted itself into a threatening scowl.

  “It was your side that agreed to the purchase in the first place. All we did was bring the merchandise to you. We didn’t put a gun to your head and make you purchase it. I don’t really see why you’re complaining about it now. Nobody likes a whiner, you know.”

  “What?!”

  Maou had lost his temper. Kuryu let it slide.

  “It’s no business of ours any longer, sir. We have a signed receipt, contract, and terms of service. The products aren’t defective at all. If you still think we’re ripping you off, then you’re free to take us to court if you like. With all this documentation, we’d win handily, you realize—and after that, we could countersue you for filing a fraudulent complaint. That would also be a slam-dunk victory for us, and then you’d have to pay our court fees, you see. Are you still interested in trying that?”

  “Damn…it…”

  Nobody with this kind of attitude shift could possibly be a legit businessman. Even Maou, in his current agitated state, knew that even though Kuryu’s argument seemed to make sense right now, it wasn’t anything even close to the truth.

  But he had no time to work with. It wasn’t like he knew anything about the court system, and Ashiya would be back home before he’d have any chance to plead his case in front of a judge. Getting angry at this guy wouldn’t accomplish anything for him because he wasn’t interested in doing business at all. The man was a swindler. A devil in human clothing. And Maou could sit here and grit his teeth at him all he wanted, but with all his demonic force taken from him after the battle against Sariel, it was nothing Kuryu couldn’t handle.

  “Then, if we have an understanding, may I be excused?” the swindler asked. “I certainly don’t mind calling the police if I have to.”

  Kuryu lifted himself off the sofa. The woman who had warmly greeted Maou earlier now had a hand on her phone receiver like a whip she was wielding to keep the lion at bay. Further discussion was clearly futile. If Maou left right now, that all but signaled his total defeat. But if he tried holding on any longer, they might call the police—or someone even more sinister, maybe. And right now, Maou was powerless. Just your typical young human.

  “Go ahead! Call ’em if you want!”

  Kuryu’s and the receptionist’s heads turned toward the voice…coming from the front door. Maou joined them, only to groan weakly at what he saw.

  “…ugh.”

  “I’d be more than happy to see ’em here!”

  The woman facing off against Kuryu now was Emi—someone who never should have been here in a million years.

  “Um… Can I ask who you are?”

  “Me? A defender of justice!”

  “Huhh?” snorted Kuryu at Emi’s completely heartfelt self-introduction.

  “So? What’ll you do? Call the cops, or not?”

  “…”

  Kuryu and the woman didn’t move. Now it was Emi’s turn to snort at them.

  “I swear, with all the crap your company’s pulling on people, I’m amazed you actually want the police to sniff around in here.”

  “Um… I don’t know who you are, ma’am,” said Kuryu, voice even deeper than when he verbally threatened Maou. “But if you keep messing with us, you’ll have worse than the police to deal with. Get it?”

  But this was nothing that could ever faze Emi. Maou had no idea what “worse than the police” meant, but assuming they were regular Japanese human beings, they’d have to employ an entire army base’s worth of personnel and equipment to get on equal footing with the Hero.

  “…So! As you can see, the moment I stepped in, this company starts threatening me. Did you get all that?”

  The smartphone she had in her left hand had been shooting video the whole time. “Loud and clear,” said the speaker—in Chiho’s voice.

  “What…!”

  “So, are you calling the cops or not?” Emi grinned at Kuryu. “If you do, I’ll give them a recording of everything you two said.”

  “…”

  “Why are you here…?” asked Maou, speaking for everyone else in the room. She couldn’t have been tailing him, he figured.

  The stare-off between Emi and Deluxe Life continued for a few moments. Emi, to Maou’s surprise, was the first to blink.

  “…Right. Let’s go.”

  “Huh?!” Maou’s eyes bugged out of their sockets.

  “Staying here any longer isn’t gonna force them to deal with us. Let’s just make them happy and leave.”

  “H-hey! Emi!”

  The Devil King found himself having to scramble in order to catch up with her, already out the door. He could feel the dour glares from the Deluxe Life staff on his back as he did.

  “S-Suzuno?!”

  Suzuno was waiting for him outside the building. “When you’re ready,” Emi said, as if expecting her.

  “Right.”

  The cleric entered the building, Emi and Maou behind her…and was back within a minute’s time.

  “Got it?”

  “All set.”

  Maou stared dumbfounded at Suzuno.

  “If you will allow me to summarize…”

  “Uh?” Maou grunted.

  “Emilia and Chiho saw right through your shallow intelligence.”

  “What?” Maou grunted. He looked to Emi for guidance. She gave him an awkward stare, then crossed her arms and turned her face to the side.

  “At first I was just pissed off beyond imagining…”

  “Erm?” Maou grunted.

  “But…once I started thinking about why you went to the Tokyo City Hall building…like, without even thinking about anything…”

  “Um, what? I can’t hear you.”

  “…Ugh! Look! I hate to admit this—I really do—and I’m not convinced he bought that thing with that intention in the first place, either. But Lucifer saved my life in the end, okay? So I went over in order to thank him! And then I saw all that crazy junk in there…”

  “Oh… So…”

  “But anyway! It made me sick, the idea of owing you such a huge favor. If I didn’t show you some kind of gratitude, it’d damage my name as a Hero! If I can succeed here, that’ll be worth a hell of a lot more karma than your forty thousand yen, so we’ll be even! You got that?!”

  “Uh, I don’t know how you’re measuring karma here…but if you’re gonna help me, then thanks. I’m glad for it.”

  “If…if you understand, then fine.”

  “Oh, hey, while you’re getti
ng all in my business, can I ask another favor?”

  “I’m not getting ‘all in your business’!” Emi began to blush. “I’m just paying you back! What is it?!”

  Maou, to Emi’s further chagrin, bowed his head deeply downward. “If this all works out in the end…don’t tell Ashiya about any of it, all right? You too, Suzuno! When Ashiya starts talking about money, it gets scary, man!”

  The request was clearly coming from the heart. It was not the kind of demand one would expect from the Lord of All Demons. Emi and Suzuno, taking in the full meaning behind it, each sighed an exasperated sigh.

  “Oh, welcome back. Are you okay, Maou?”

  Back at the apartment, the group found Chiho manning the Devil’s Castle computer.

  “Y-yeah, I’m fine, but…Chi, why are you…?”

  “Take a look at this first, Maou!”

  “Huh?”

  Chiho clicked the mouse button a few times.

  “Are you aware of the installation standards for those, sir?”

  “Whoa! That voice…?!”

  It was Kuryu’s low, rumbling growl. And the video was shot through the front glass doors, clearly showing both Maou’s and Kuryu’s respective faces.

  “Yep. Got a great shot of it, no?” Emi proudly answered.

  “Emi…” Maou shivered. “You didn’t…”

  “I heard the whole story from your ‘in-home security guard’ here,” Emi promptly replied, cutting him off.

  Urushihara, meanwhile, sat motionless on the floor, avoiding Maou’s eyes and trying to fend off the humiliation.

  “But you’re short on time, right?” Emi continued. “We kinda took the direct approach because we needed to build an airtight case.”

  “But how’d you get that video…?” the Demon King asked.

  “You’ve got the blessings of modern technology to thank for that. I used the SkyPhone app on my smartphone and saved the audio and video on your computer.”

  “SkyPhone…? You mean the phone app on Urushihara’s notebook PC?”

  “Yeah. I was a little worried since it’s an old model, but no wonder you’re glued to that thing every day. You got some nice equipment!”

  SkyPhone was a program that made telephone calls with an Internet connection. Nowadays, even portable devices like smartphones could host and use apps like SkyPhone. While it depended on the circumstances of usage, usually as long as the device had camera capabilities, it was even possible to have video calling.