The tonsure on his head still bore a scar from the battle in Sasazuka on it. It stuck out in Emi’s eyes as Olba took out what appeared to be a plain hemp pouch from his Church robe.
“I wanted to prove to you that we are sticking to our promise. I have a sample to show you. Seeing the real thing, I presume, will help put your mind at ease slightly.”
The pouch was resting in Olba’s wrinkled palm. It appeared to have some weight to it. Emi noticed the string tying the opening shut, as well as the leaf someone had stuck into the side fabric. It made her open her eyes wide. Both the leaf and the string had been specially treated to serve as drying agents, meant to fend off moisture when storing crops long-term.
“It appears you already know what it is, inside here?”
Olba grinned as he brought his other hand to the string.
“Wait!” Emi shouted, eyes darting between the pouch and the view out the window. “If you open that here…!”
“I apologize, but handing it to you and having you do nothing with it would be rather pointless, wouldn’t it?”
Before she could stop him, Olba had it open, pouring the contents into a water pitcher on the table in front of the door.
“Stop!”
But it was too late. The contents flowed in, floating for a moment in the salt-tinged water inside before taking in the moisture and falling to the bottom. Emi recognized them as wheat seeds, and a look of despair crossed her face as they settled down.
“Don’t worry. As I said, this is just a sample. We’ve got quite an inventory to work with. Do you understand that we are keeping our promise now?”
Olba tossed the empty pouch near the pitcher.
“As I mentioned earlier, Emilia, if you are willing to listen to what you are told, I promise you that our ‘hostages’ will be well taken care of by our experts from the Western Island. But if you try to do anything strange, it will all end up like this.”
He gestured toward the seeds.
“The stage is almost set. I hope you will rest yourself well for what is to come.”
Then he left the room, not bothering to wait for the dumbfounded Emi’s reply. By the time his footsteps were no longer audible, Emi was on her knees.
The wheat seeds were not from this land. The high salt content of the drinking water here, on this faraway island, rendered the seeds useless the moment they absorbed it. That was the great cause, the invisible manacles keeping her here and forcing her to do her mortal enemy’s bidding.
“Mommy…”
The worried voice of Alas Ramus rang in her head. But Emi was no longer capable of responding.
This is how a Hero works? She was no Hero. She was just a powerless peon. Even after everything they had done to her, she still couldn’t dare lift her sword.
“H…help…someone…”
The soft sound of falling tears was lost amid the ever-present waves of the sea, never reaching the ears of anyone besides Emi and Alas Ramus.
– To be continued –
THE AUTHOR, THE AFTERWORD, AND YOU!
Ever since I was young, I’ve always had kind of a thing for work vehicles. The impact they have on every aspect of Japanese manufacturing, logistics, and consumer activity—as well as the efforts of everyone who operate them in their work—is something I have to pay my respects to.
This sense of awe comes to mind whenever I see big construction trucks, or the assorted specialized vehicles you see running around airports. I get it even when I see regular trucks and haulers running around town. It’s like a little tingle. The first time I had the chance to drive a pickup truck, I was struck at the incredible power stored within such a relatively compact car. Later, when I drove a Toyota HiAce van around, I was shocked at how it remained just as spry and handleable even when I helped my friend move and he packed it to the gills with stuff.
With that in mind, it’s perhaps only natural that I’ve had a similar thing for the special scooters used by pizza places and the like, the ones with rear-mounted cargo containers. I love the three-wheeled one with roofs, in particular, simply because they look so completely different from normal motorcycles. So cool. Sadly, nobody in my social circle understands the attraction. Not yet, anyway.
When I was writing this volume, I gave more than half a thought to purchasing one of those tricycle scooters, figuring it’d come in handy and wouldn’t cost as much as a car to maintain. I was wrong. Those things are built for maneuverability, and that comes at a cost—about three times your average scooter new. You could buy a cheap, low-powered used car with that kind of budget.
Another issue is that apparently I have a freakishly enormous head or something, because about the only helmet that fits me is an XXXL (64 cm or larger). That, combined with the insurance I’ll have to take out for it, adds further to the cost. I’m probably gonna have to consider it for a while longer.
Still, owning a vehicle with an engine definitely allows you more range, not to mention versatility. It comes with a certain level of social responsibility, too (the obligation to be licensed, respect traffic laws, etc.), but it’s hard to beat the way it can expand the world for you.
If you’re reading this, that means that the current date is either April 10, 2013, or (more likely) some date after that. You might already be aware of this by the time you pick this book up, but April marks the broadcast launch of the Devil Is a Part-Timer! animated series. This means the world of Devil has expanded once again—from book, to manga, and now to anime. I think it’ll be fun for viewers to discover new ways to interact with this world, and I also think giving people the chance to explore it in all these different ways makes it a better work overall.
Between Akio Hiiragi’s manga version of Devil, Kurone Mishima’s spinoff, The Devil is a Part-Timer! High School!, and the upcoming anime version directed by Naoto Hosoda, there are now so many different ways for all of us to enjoy the world of Sadao Maou and Emi Yusa. There really are. And as the main man behind all this, it couldn’t make me happier.
And, with Volume 8 of the Devil novels, I think it’s fair to say that the story is going in new and downright shocking directions. The world is expanding once again for readers, and this volume marks the kickoff. It’s only going to be more frenetic in the next volume, and I hope you guys won’t mind the wait too much.
But even though this volume launches a thrilling new story arc that crosses worlds and may just change everything, the characters that inhabit it are exactly as they’ve always been. The Devil King and the Hero are working hard to keep themselves afloat, because if you want to change, you have to take that first step. I imagine that’s the credo all of them live by—the Devil King, the Hero, the teenage girl, the demons, the clerics, and the angels.
But no matter how noble the cause, it’s still not nice to make reckless remarks in your work. Therefore, in closing, I would like to apologize on behalf of the tall, airheaded archangel in the story who personally offended every single man and woman named “Jimmy” or some variant thereof.
Here’s hoping I’ll see you in the next volume.
Farewell!
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 8 Page 20
