The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 2 (5 page)

Failing to find any other option, he bowed lightly toward the industrial-sized package.

“I thank you for your kindness. I hope you will accept this gift, a token of my appreciation for my esteemed neighbor.”

The box lurched forward…or, to be exact, was offered to him.

“Um…this is…?”

“I understand that an offering of noodles is the most appropriate and customary method of greeting one’s new neighbors.”

It was hard to see what was at all appropriate or customary about the gift, or its size, or its qualities, but if the box was really full of udon noodles, the Devil’s Castle could very well eat for free the rest of the year.

“Oh…uh, well, thanks for the kind gesture.”

His voice wavering as he thanked her, Maou picked up the box.

“Erff!”

It was so startlingly heavy, he almost dropped it on the spot.

Which would make sense. This box, easily big enough to occupy the entire front foyer of his apartment, might just be packed to the brim with udon noodles. One could only guess how many dozens of pounds it weighed.

Grimacing to support the unexpected weight, Maou gingerly placed the box at his feet as he sized up his visitor.

“I do hope it proves to suit your palate. Please; there is no need for modesty.”

The young girl who had launched herself in dynamic fashion right into Maou’s arms a few hours ago was standing there, now dressed in a somber-colored but nonetheless high-quality kimono and a pair of
zori
sandals.

“I come from an old farming family established long ago in the mountainous countryside. I’m afraid there is much I have yet to learn about city life, but I hope you will be kind enough to put the unfortunate events of before behind you, and provide whatever neighborly support you deign to offer.”

Suzuno Kamazuki, no longer a box but now a small, young woman, lowered her head in a deliberate, well-practiced bow.

“Uhmm. Ah, yeah, certainly. You, too.”

Maou bowed his own head down in a halfhearted attempt to return the favor.

Incongruous
would be the only way to describe the impression she gave.

Judging by her swan dive down the stairs and bizarre parting words subsequently, he imagined she was just a bit touched in the head. Now that he had another good look at her, though, he realized that “just a bit” could be easily removed from that appraisal.

Her eyes were large, the bridge of her nose sharply defined. Her white skin and long, shiny hair were a perfect match for her navy-blue kimono and bright yellow sash. She cut an impressive figure, standing out there in the corridor, exhibiting her effortlessly perfect posture.

The expression on her face, dignified and betraying the strong will that lurked inside of her, added an even more powerful presence to her appearance.

In terms of pure looks, she could easily pass for her early teens, but the sheer practiced perfection of her Japanese wardrobe and mannerisms, coupled with her rather eccentric approach to language, made Maou wonder if she was transported from her home to Sasazuka via time machine.

As she bowed, even Maou’s untrained eyes could tell that a great deal of attention had been paid to her hair. A bright red Japanese hairpin, decorated with a four-petaled flower, shone elegantly in the light.

With summer now in full swing, he had seen more and more women dressed in gaudy, fashion-oriented summer kimonos outside. But this
went beyond that. Plainly this was a woman who wore Japanese garments as her de facto first choice.

Looking up, Maou realized that Suzuno’s blade-like eyes, brimming with energy, were fixated on his face. For just a few seconds, he flinched at her.

“So you are…Sadao Maou?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah, but…”

Suzuno averted her eyes in thought for a moment, apparently satisfied that it was indeed Maou in front of her. She nodded once, then looked back up at him.

“Is it true that you share your quarters with one Shirou Ashiya?”

“Buh?”

Without thinking, Maou turned his head back behind him. Ashiya looked just as surprised as he approached the front door.

“Um, yes, I am Ashiya. Maou is, ah, an old friend of mine. We are sharing a room together.”

“Enchanted to meet you. I am Kamazuki. I have heard much about the both of you.”

She’s heard
what
, from
whom
? Noticing Ashiya and Maou exchanging glances with each other, Suzuno exhibited a subtle change in expression for the first time so far. Ever so slightly, the area between her eyebrows wrinkled up, as if she were baffled.

“I have yet to meet the landlord here in person. However, a person I believe to be the landlord posted me a letter through her real-estate agent. It read that her only tenant was Sadao Maou, living here with his friend.”

So saying, Suzuno produced an envelope from her bosom, the envelope’s frilliness more than familiar to the demons at this point. Maou had no idea until now that women stuffed things under their kimonos like that.

“She wrote that the people residing here were kind and sensibly minded, and that I could trust in their aid if I ever came across any difficulty.”

It was not the sort of praise that delighted a malicious minion from the underworld.

That, and Maou had little to no interest in taking over any of his landlord’s Villa Rosa management duties. Besides, why wasn’t Shiba taking responsibility for this new girl, instead of pawning her off on them?

“Ah! There was a photograph included as well. I wanted to ask you, is this really our—”

Suzuno, suddenly reminded, made an attempt to take something else out of the envelope.

“No! No, don’t! You don’t have to take it out! I don’t need to see it! That’s her, all right! If you were going to ask whether the lady in that photo is actually human or not, then yep, that’s definitely our landlord!”

Maou intuitively stopped her with all the force he could muster. Suzuno’s eyes opened a notch wider at the sheer panic Maou exuded.

“Why are you so flustered, if I may ask? It is merely a woman in a colorful pair of glasses, relaxing in a half-submerged inner tube while—”

“Don’t describe it! Please!”

Ashiya, for his part, was spooked enough to scurry back into the apartment.

Watching Suzuno reluctantly place the envelope back into her pocket, Maou breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the shock was absorbed a bit when someone of the same gender looked upon her. Of course, the question of whether you could even call the landlord a woman was still substantially in doubt, but finding a conclusive answer would achieve nothing for anyone. Thus, Maou resolved to file the whole landlord cheesecake pinup massacre into a padlocked X-file deep in a dark, cobwebbed corner of his mind.

“Uh. Right. But anyway, I’m glad you aren’t hurt or anything. Oh, and thanks for the udon noodles. I’m not at home in the daytime usually ’cause I’m working at the MgRonald nearby, but if anything comes up, you can usually find him in here, so…”

Still recovering from his temporary bout of panic, Maou’s voice broke slightly as he spoke to Suzuno.

“I know it is not exactly inviting, all of us men in the same room, but please let me know if anything’s bothering you.”

Ashiya’s gentlemanly invitation boomed out from inside.

“Ah…yes. Thank you in advance, then.”

Then, while it was hard to glean from her usual stony expression, it seemed to Maou that a flash of surprise crossed Suzuno’s face before she turned her head downward.

“Oh, but keep in mind, that guy gets kind of carried away sometimes, so don’t be afraid to shoo him away if he gets too annoying.”

Maou attempted to put up a defensive wall, out of concern they were tromping too far into their female neighbor’s life upon their first encounter.

In times like these, if a man gets too friendly too quickly, bad things happen. They always did to Maou, anyway.

“Oh, certainly not. I was not expecting such a warm reception, perhaps, but it gladdens me to have neighbors I can freely call upon. I look forward to learning all the many ins and outs of communal life from you.”

He couldn’t tell what was so unexpected about it, but the term
communal life
caught Maou’s attention. He’d have to start by teaching her how to speak like someone from this century, for starters.

Despite this response, Suzuno bowed once more, turned her eyes toward the floor Maou was standing on, and let out a slight, startled exhale.

“Is there another among you?”

“Huh?”

“Oh…I simply noticed, there was another, different-sized set of footwear. I apologize if you were entertaining another visitor.”

“No, um…”

Maou and Ashiya sized each other up. Trying to hide a roommate from their next-door neighbor would only serve to arouse more suspicion. Urushihara had yet to demonstrate an interest to listening to anyone’s advice, besides. It’d be better, Maou thought, to make the first move instead of inviting further unwanted attention.

“We actually took on another roommate recently. But he’s, like, a total shut-in, so he shouldn’t bother you too much.”

“I’m not a shut-in ’cause I
wanna
be, dude! Hey, I’m Urushihara! Nice to see you, finally!”

Said shut-in shouted his greeting from across the apartment. Maou wondered whether he really cared if the police found him or not.

“I see… And you as well.”

This was enough to make Suzuno’s eyes dart around, as if agitated.

Not even the flying leap she took off the stairs changed her rigid expression. What did an unkempt freeloader do to her that
that
couldn’t? Was it that strange to her, three grown men living in the same room?

But even that facial tic lasted for a mere instant, as she gave a shallow bow to Urushihara.

“Well, I had best haunt your doorstep no longer. I bid a good evening to you. Farewell for now!”

Then she turned her heels, her sandals squishing against the wooden floor as she returned to her room.

Once he was sure the door was closed, Ashiya crossed his arms, head tilted.

“A rather strange one, wasn’t she?”

“I don’t think we’re in any position to toss
that
word around. But, hey, it’s nice to have some generous neighbors, huh? Just like that, we’ve got some extra food.”

He hoisted the box of udon up to his waist as he cheerfully commented on their unexpected visitor.

“
Man
, this is heavy.”

The follow-up came out in a low whisper as he struggled with the weight.

The cardboard boxes, large enough to occupy an entire corner of the room by themselves, loomed large over her living space.

She had decided to place the three enormous boxes here in the hall
for the time being. Between the apartment’s layout and her furniture, there was no place else convenient for them, but even this left only one closet door fully openable.

It was the start of a new week, a hot, humid, and overall oppressive Monday. Emi Yusa, still in her office-casual work outfit, groaned as she pondered over the problem facing her, fingers rested on her forehead. She had wanted to take a shower immediately upon returning home, but Sasuke Express paid her a visit at that exact moment, as if deliberately aiming to bother her.

Flipping on the AC to defend herself against the sickening heat, Emi brushed away the hair sticking to her sweat-soaked forehead as she read the packing slip.

In the
From
box, the word
EMERALDA
was written in characters that looked like a pile of small worms in a petri dish.
Food products
was written in the
contents
section.

At a loss to explain this package delivery, Emi paused for a moment before making her move. Taking out her phone, she called a number stored on it.

“…Hellooooo! This is Emeralda Etuuuuva.”

She picked up on the seventh ring, her speech still a little uneasy from nervousness.

“I know. This is Emi… I mean, Emilia speaking.”

“Indeed! Even after all this time, it seems I still get nervous with the tellllephone.”

“You’ve had enough time to get used to it by now, haven’t you?”

Emi chuckled to herself. She wasn’t being serious, of course. There was no way she could expect the woman on the other end of the line to “get used to” such black magic. After all, the girl who introduced herself as Emeralda Etuva wasn’t even in Japan. Or, to be exact, on Earth.

“I haven’t spent that much time in Japan, soooo…”

Emi eyed the tower of boxes in front of her.

“I just got some packages with your name on them… What
are
they?”

Each of the three boxes was unnaturally heavy, enough so that the
Sasuke Express deliveryman brought each one into the apartment to save Emi and her spindly arms from having to struggle with them.

“It said on the packing slip that it’s food, but…”

“Oh, did they make it oooover? Wowwww, that was faaast! I only sent them off yesterday!”

It probably
would
be a surprise to someone becoming familiar with the astonishing speed of Japan’s delivery infrastructure for the first time.

“They contain holy energy for youuu! I modified its appearance so it wouldn’t look conspicuous storing it within Japan.”

“Holy…
What
?”

Emi pushed the table away from her as she rose.

“B-but why’s it say
food
, then? They’re all, like, super heavy. Is it bags of rice or something?”

“Rice…? Oh, right, the main food staple in Japan? No, not thaaaat. I set it up so it’s divided into small portions that’re easy to work with! They’re famous on Earth, right? Liiiiike, one swig fills you up with power, yeah?”

“One swig?”

She raised an eyebrow as she took the packing tape off the topmost package. Tossing it to the side, she opened the box and peered inside.

“Whoa…”

It was packed with a vast array of smaller boxes, wadded-up paper wedged between them. Each one had the logo of a well-known Japanese pharmaceutical company stamped on it. Opening one of them up, Emi’s suspicions were confirmed—eleven small brown bottles greeted her, each filled with a clear liquid and with a gold cap affixed to the top.

“‘5-Holy Energy B’…?”

“Oh, not a B. That’s a β. Beta, y’knoooow? Like, kind of a beta test.”

“That’s not the point. Emeralda. So if I drink one of these, it’ll refill my holy power?”

“You’ve got it! By the way, Emiliaaaaa…”

The voice on the other end suddenly grew inquisitive.

“What’s the Devil King been up to laaaately?”

“Well…”

Emi thought for a moment before answering.

“The same as always, pretty much. We usually wind up arguing whenever we run into each other, but we’re both busy with work, so I haven’t really had a chance to gauge his private life.”

“……”

The indecisiveness was palpable.

“Emiliaaa…do you understand what you’re telling meeee?”

“Huh?”

Emi was at a loss. Emeralda chose her words carefully as she continued.

“You sound like someone whining that you’re so busy, you’re having trouble making time for your lovvvver.”

All right. Maybe
carefully
was a stretch. Straight down the middle, in fact. And it still managed to strike Emi right on the noggin.

Emi compared Emeralda’s observation with what she just said a moment ago.

“Dah…wha…nragh…”

The phone mike picked up every phase of her raging emotions.

“What’re you
talking
about, Emer?! You should
know
it’s nothing like that between us! I—I mean, as long as we’re both living in Japan, we have to follow Japanese laws, go to Japanese work, make Japanese money, the whole bit! When I say that I can’t watch over every waking moment he spends, it doesn’t
mean
anything more than… Unnghghh!!”

“I know, I knowww…”

Emeralda cracked up as she picked on her companion. Emi’s fury continued unabated, her breath quickening in pace.

“Stop making fun of me! I am the Hero of Ente Isla! And he’s the Devil King! He’s my sworn enemy, and that
never
changes! The mere thought that we’re lo…lo…
lovers
makes me nauseous!”

Indeed, the woman calling herself Emi Yusa was none other than Emilia Justina, the Hero who dispatched the demonic forces serving the Devil King Satan and brought lasting peace back to her world.

Just as Satan was now mild-mannered MgRonald burger flipper
Sadao Maou, so, too, was Emilia posing as Emi Yusa, working for Shinjuku-based telephone company Dokodemo as a contracted call-center operator.

Emeralda Etuva, on the other end of the line, was Emilia’s traveling companion. The court alchemist for the empire of Saint Aile, the nation that boasted the largest swath of territory on Ente Isla’s Western Island, she followed Emilia to Japan as she pursued the Devil King two months ago, just in time to take in the Hero’s battle against Lucifer.