Hataraku Maou-sama! - Volume 6 - Chapter 1

THE DEVIL CLOCKS BACK IN 
From the outside, things didn’t look too terribly different. Not that it would have been. Despite the extensive renovation work inside, as rent-paying tenants, they weren’t allowed to change all that much with the externals. They didn’t even apply a new coat of paint to the outer walls. One look at the cornerstone, and it was clear to anyone that the building already had a good twenty years or so of age on it. 
“You look disappointed.” 
His boss gave him a self-satisfied smile as she crossed her arms. The shoulder bag dangling at her side was packed to the gills with paperwork and other necessities. 
“Well, I dunno. You said there were all these upgrades we were gonna do, so I figured it’d look a bit newer on the outside, kinda.” 
As he spoke, Sadao Maou parked Dullahan II, his trusty fixed-gear steed, in the all-too-familiar employee parking area. Today was the day his workplace, the MgRonald in front of Hatagaya rail station, opened its doors once more. 
The nonslip construction flooring and antidust covers were all peeled off the building, a sign advertising the new services (the whole reason for the renovation work) was attached to the front, and most of the external fixtures and such were shiny and new. But none of the changes seemed particularly drastic to him. 
Still, taking in the new sign, he realized that the red paint on the old one—one of the official corporate colors—must have faded a fair bit over time. Exposed to the city air and the sun’s UV rays, that kind of aging process was inevitable. 
On that note, the newly installed sign and its vibrant red hue definitely exuded an air of newness. 
The large windows facing the door had some new tint work done on them, making it hard to see inside. But the windows themselves were still in the same frames, the automatic doors in the same position, and the interior doubtlessly not all that different, either. 
If the kitchen and customer-entrance locations were the same, traffic flow around the dining space couldn’t be much different, either. Maou doubted that corporate did much with the seating arrangements and such. 
“Well, let’s not judge a book by its cover too quickly, shall we?” 
Mayumi Kisaki, store manager and Maou’s boss, looked supremely confident as she strode up to the door, using a key to release the lock on the bottom—the same as always with that, too. She pushed the door open as she continued, fumbling anxiously through a key ring she’d fished out of her shoulder bag. 
“Give me just one minute. Once I open the door, I have to turn this other key on the new alarm panel within forty seconds or else the security company will automatically call the authorities. Um, which key was it…? This one?” 
Maou took his first step into the dim dining space as she briskly walked inside, noticing a constant electronic beep from the security panel deeper within. He waited patiently, the still-sweltering heat making him wish summer would end already. Then, after half a minute or so: 
“!!” 
The lights suddenly turned on. 
It was a kind of light Maou had never experienced before in his daily life. Certainly not the fluorescent-tube illumination he had grown so used to. Investigating the ceiling revealed that it was lined with countless lights, each one a tiny yet powerful bulb. They seemed to stab into his eyes with their sharpness, but the rows of alternating white and orange worked together to fill the place with a soft sort of radiance neither too dim nor too bright. 
“Whoa!” The shock ejected itself out from his lips. “This must be the LED lighting I’ve heard so much about!” 
And everything it illuminated was a marked departure from what came before it. The plush seating that lined the walls, their plastic pastel colors faded through years of use, were now a uniform, refined brown, modeled after high-priced leather seating. 
The swivel seats that once lined the bar counter, which grated annoyingly against the hard tile floor and were a pain to keep neat and orderly, had been replaced with high-seated chairs mounted against the wall. And those walls, whose color had morphed over time from pink to a vaguely sort of Caucasian skin tone, now boasted a line of yellow tiles with patterns in them, their relaxed tone a refreshing match with the lights and fixtures. 
Kisaki spun the key ring around her finger as she came back. “What do you think? Still disappointed now?” 
Maou firmly shook his head. 
“The kitchen equipment got an upgrade, too, though it mostly works the same as before. But we finally got a three-plate grill in, so that oughta make the rushes a bit easier.” 
“Ooh, I appreciate that!” 
Maou wasn’t lying. It honestly put a sparkle in his eye. 
MgRonald burgers could be divided into several core components—the buns, the patty, then the cheese, vegetables, sauce, and so forth. The kitchen used what was known as a clamshell grill, an industrial skillet featuring movable platens that allowed the operator to cook patties on both sides simultaneously. Their previous grill had only two platens, reflecting the small size of the original business setup. 
Since every order had its own ingredients and flavorings, these platens would need to be cleaned after cooking things like fish and teriyaki chicken sandwiches to keep any rogue flavors from bleeding through to the next order. That cleaning process, if it came during the lunch or dinner rush, would inevitably generate what was called “wait time” in MgRonald corporate speak—in other words, customers would need to wait longer than strictly necessary, messing up the store’s order rhythm. The availability (or lack thereof) of a single platen made a night-and-day difference in work time and stress. 
“Hey, is the wash basin bigger, too?” 
“Yep. Plus, the faucet’s automatic now.” 
“Wow!!” 
Admiration and wonderment oozed out of every pore of Maou’s body. Although, really, the universal presence in Japan of porcelain basins with metallic spigots that spat out fresh water with a simple turn of a handle had been an enormous culture shock to him when he first showed up. Nowhere in the demon realms—and certainly nowhere among the five continents that made up the land of Ente Isla—was there a water system robust enough to bring clean water to individual homes whenever you needed it. The “water system” in Maou’s old domain was whatever stream you happened to be nearby, running from the source to wherever it drained to, with maybe a few magically operated valve systems in the manors of nobility. 
To someone like Maou, for whom the presence of a water source you could shut off at will was already exciting enough, the first sight of an auto-flushing public toilet left him astonished. You don’t even have to turn a handle anymore?! was his honest thought. But now, he understood their purpose. Faucet handles in public facilities could be crawling with germs. And considering MgRonald’s standard rule of one thorough handwashing per hour, having an automatic faucet seemed like a godsend. 
“This all is a really big step forward!” 
Kisaki looked graciously, if a tad suspiciously, at the astounded Maou. 
“You know, I love how…I dunno, rustic you act sometimes.” 
“Huh?” 
“Oh, never mind. It’s nothing big. By the way, Number Ten’s around this corner. There’s three of them across the two floors.” 
“Number Ten” was semiofficial corporate code for the public bathrooms. Maou stepped inside the one nearby, only to find himself stopped cold for a moment. 
“Something wrong?” 
“N-no, i-it seems like something’s missing. Did it get smaller?” 
A toilet sat inside the room, but it was one wholly beyond Maou’s ken. 
“Oh, that’s one of the new heated-seat models, the kind that doesn’t need a separate water tank. And also…” 
Kisaki pointed out a panel lined with buttons, a sort of remote control bolted to the wall. 
“You can push a button to lift the lid up.” 
“Whaaaaa?!” 
The amazement was deep-rooted and profound. He could see the advantage of an automatic faucet, but what possible need could there be for a remotely operated toilet seat lid? His slack-jawed reaction drew a bemused smile from Kisaki. 
“And if you’re a guy doing a number one, this button lifts the whole thing up, too.” 
To Maou, this seemed like taking a simple, instinctive routine and making it needlessly complex. He could understand if someone was leery to use a john touched, rubbed, and/or soiled by God-knows-who before them, but didn’t this just mean the germs were on the control panel now instead? 
“Um…so what do the buttons with one water drop and a lot of them mean?” 
“Right, that’s how you flush.” 
Kisaki motioned Maou to press the single-droplet button. Maou obliged, and a trickle of water—much less than he expected—began to flow along the inner surface. 
“Bet I could save on my water bill if I had this at home…” 
The Japanese-style floor toilet at the Devil’s Castle in Villa Rosa Sasazuka, a sixty-year-old wooden apartment building five minutes from Sasazuka rail station, didn’t differentiate between little and big flushes. There was a lever, and that was that. 
Letting only a little trickle go through was supposedly bad for the water tank, but indulging in a full flush with every trip to the little demon’s room caused both a huge racket at night and a fair amount of concern for their utility bills. 
Maou put his home affairs aside for a moment in his mind. “Um…so is this kind of thing normal now? I mean, I know my place was pretty much built in the Stone Age, but most public bathrooms still have the regular kind, right? Do you think our older customers will know how to use this?” 
“Hmm…” Kisaki nodded. “You might have a point. We should probably post up some instructions. But anyway, this is still just for starters. The real show isn’t until you see the brand-new space upstairs.” 
There was no point jaw-dropping in the crapper all day. Kisaki guided Maou toward the stairway to one side of the order counter. “This’ll probably be a whole new world to you, up here. A new battlefield, I guess you could say. It’ll be a test for all of us. Just remember: outside of myself, you’re the first member of the Hatagaya crew to set foot up here, all right?” 
Maou swallowed nervously as he followed, holding on to the handrail as he followed the stairs—the same color as the floor—upward. There, at the top, he found… 
 
For Sadao Maou—aka the Devil King Satan, assuming human form in this alien world called Japan, as he worked an hourly job to keep the lights on—it had proven difficult to take much of any action during the first half of August. 
Once he and his cohorts returned from their stint at a beachside snack shop in Choshi, they were quickly greeted by the seeds of a new and sinister concern. The winds of war had begun to blow over in Ente Isla—and what was more, the powers that be over there had begun to extend their reach to Japan in a more physical manner than before. 
While the three demon cast-outs living in Japan—Sadao Maou, Shirou Ashiya, and Hanzou Urushihara—were away, a new would-be overlord attempted to seize power in their realm, rebelling against the system Satan created and attempting to form a New Devil King’s Army. It was enough to put any tyrant ruler on the defensive. 
Meanwhile, the human forces of Ente Isla that chased Maou and gang to Earth—Emilia the Hero, now known as Emi Yusa; and Church cleric Crestia Bell, doing human business as Suzuno Kamazuki—were still an ominous presence in his mind. 
While ostensibly tasked with the job of defeating the Devil King once and for all, due to the minor family drama of Alas Ramus treating Satan as her father and fusing herself with the Hero’s holy sword, these human Ente Islans were unable to act upon their mission with any great sense of urgency. At the moment, the two of them were more concerned that Maou and his generals would be kidnapped by this New Devil King’s Army, appointing Satan as its figurehead as it launched a brand-new demon assault on their homeland. Thus, they found themselves in the unenviable position of essentially running guard duty for the Devil King they swore to defeat, making sure he wasn’t whisked anywhere they didn’t want him to go. 
And just when it seemed like things couldn’t get more complicated between the Hero and Devil King, a bunch of angels stepped in from heaven to make everything thornier. Their plans, however, seemed to have less to do with Maou and Emi and more to do with Chiho Sasaki, mild-mannered high schooler and the only girl on Earth who knew about Ente Isla and the drama involved with it. 
It was enough to make Maou and Emi, enraged at how the angels put Chiho in the hospital with a serious case of dark-magic poisoning, voluntarily join forces for the first time in order to drive the angels away from Japan. 
But in the midst of that , they discovered that Emi’s father, thought to be dead at the hands of Maou’s old demon hordes, was alive after all. Not to mention some mystery person had lent a carload of holy force to Chiho so she could help dispatch the angel Raguel, making Maou and Emi realize that yet another faction was now trying to make its presence known. 
Chiho was right as rain now, though. And even though things were even more twisted and tangled than ever before, the entire gang still had the mental wherewithal to enjoy the ever-so-light, but still unmistakable, early suggestions of autumn in the late August air. 
And meanwhile, in the midst of all this devastating cross-world conflict, the MgRonald location Maou worked at in Hatagaya was due to open tomorrow. 
 
“I dunno, it’s like… It’s the Mag, but it’s not the Mag, too—but in a good way. It’s still friendly and approachable, but it’s all refined and stuff, too!” 
It wasn’t even noon, but Maou already had a towel around his head and gloves on his hands as he tried to resist the pressure of the unrelenting sun in his white T-shirt. 
“The second floor overlooks the street by the rail station, but you actually get a pretty good view of the whole area. They’ve got blinds on the windows so the sunlight doesn’t get too rough, but it’s like… Man , it’s gonna be really exciting working there!” 
“Aw, that’s no fair, Maou! You went all by yourself?!” 
The voice complaining about Maou’s passionate review belonged to Chiho Sasaki, decked out in a workout jacket and pants, an identical pair of cotton work gloves as he had, and a broad-brimmed hat. 
“Hey, you’ll be back in the shift rotation too pretty soon, Chi!” 
“Well, yeah, but it’s still not fair!” 
Chiho, who worked on the Hatagaya MgRonald’s part-time crew alongside Maou, must have had as healthy of a curiosity about the place as he did. 
“So it is called a…MagCafé, yes? How does it differ from a regular MgRonald?” 
Shirou Ashiya, aka Maou’s Great Demon General Alciel, interjected this question as he wiped at the sweat pouring down his face with the hem of his T-shirt. The towel-bandanna and gloves were a match for Maou’s. 
“Well, it’s a café and all, so there’s a buncha different kinds of coffee! Like, café au lait, caffe latte, espresso, you name it! It usedta be MgRonald Platinum Roast or nothing, but not anymore. We got more café-type things on the menu, too, like hot dogs and pancakes and stuff…!” 
Maou breathed deeply through his nose, clearly unable to wait another moment to man the counter. 
“Alciel, do not disrobe and reveal your chest in front of Chiho while she is trying to help us out! The very nerve ! And you , Devil King—stop your jabbering and put in more of an actual work effort!” 
These orders came from Maou’s next-door neighbor, the cleric Crestia Bell, better known these days as Suzuno Kamazuki. 
She had a sash over the kimono she usually wore around the house, a washcloth wrapped tight around her forehead as, with engloved hands, she wielded a broom about the same height as herself. 
They were all sweating it out in the backyard of Villa Rosa Sasazuka, the apartment building that currently housed the multidimensional demon headquarters known as the Devil’s Castle. 
Whenever summer rolled around, the lone evergreen tree within the apartment grounds played host to several million cicadas and locusts of all kinds. The resulting din of scratchy insect cries made it difficult to make yourself heard without raising your voice. 
“Yeah, yeah…” 
“M-my apologies!” 
Ashiya hurriedly slipped his shirt back down as Maou returned to work. 
“No, um… I wasn’t offended or anything…” Chiho turned a little red with embarrassment herself before she put it behind her. “Hey! Hey, what’s the difference between a café au lait and a caffe latte?!” 
Maou sighed deeply. 
“…Um.” 
He stopped his work and looked up into the air, perhaps calling upon the blazing sun to jog his memory. 
“Like, a café au lait has milk in it, and a caffe latte has…um, milk in it? They both got milk in it, right, but it’s, like, bubbly and stuff in a latte…I think?” 

“Yes! Wonderful! Coffee with milk in it! Now, can you stop using your head and start using your hands a little?!” 
“Well, I mean, it’s not like the cartons of coffee milk they have in the coolers at supermarkets and bathhouses and stuff… Man , I could go for a bath.” 
The sweat that covered his body confirmed that much. Once he was done, the first thing he’d do was march straight over to the bathhouse, no matter how much Suzuno yelled at him about it. 
The two of them, alongside Ashiya and Chiho, were in the midst of cleaning up Villa Rosa’s yard. This wouldn’t be their job as tenants, normally—to say nothing of Chiho, who didn’t even live there. But if payment was involved, that was another story. 
This time, it all began with another letter from their landlord—one who, now that Maou was fresh off spending a couple days with a relative of hers, was even more of a mystery to him. 
Said landlord had forced them out of their homes a while back, thanks to the enormous, cartoonlike hole punched in the Devil’s Castle living room wall. It was only temporary while the repairs were made, and she promised to credit them for the time they were out of the place—or so she had informed them. But in the end, they were displaced for only a little more than four days. 
Which she could have compensated for easily enough. But Miki Shiba, their landlord—despite her clearly nonhuman physical characteristics, her weird relatives, and the general air of creepiness that surrounded her—brandished an odd sense of duty at times like these. 
“I do terribly apologize for breaking my promise,” she wrote. “I asked you to travel to my niece to work, but I understand circumstances prevented that from lasting very long.” 
In other words, she was sorry the demons couldn’t work at Ohguro-ya, the seaside snack bar and souvenir shop Miki’s niece ran, for as long as they’d planned. 
To make up for it, she continued, she was willing to up the discount on their rent, and thus make up the difference from what she had promised, if they were willing to tackle some of the yard work Miki was ignoring so far this summer. To be exact, she offered a fifteen-thousand-yen discount on the rent for August if they cleaned the place up for her. It would bring the figure down to an eye-wateringly low thirty thousand. 
Maou and Ashiya had immediately leapt at the offer—as anyone in their position would. Not only was their Ohguro-ya paycheck a fair amount less than anticipated, they had only just purchased a television—an enormous investment by their standards. And while Maou had minimized that financial hit well enough already, there was no way they’d refuse a further discount. 
Suzuno, the apartment building’s only other resident, had a far less pressing need for such an offer. But she still willingly volunteered her help. “It is only natural,” she said, “that a domicile’s residents should keep their housing neat and tidy.” 
Since money was involved, Maou and Suzuno made sure to check in with the real-estate office before officially getting down to work. Today, the day before Maou’s job at MgRonald started up again, was the date they picked. Yet, oddly enough, one of the apartment’s permanent residents was nowhere to be seen on the big day. Instead there was Chiho, who didn’t even live here, pulling up weeds and picking up rocks and pebbles with all her might. 
Maou hardly noticed the backyard unless he was parking his bicycle there, but thanks to an extended period of neglect, the grass was up to his knees. As he tromped through it, he noticed that the edge of the yard facing the street was lined with empty cans and bottles, tossed by passersby over his concrete-block fence. Ashiya was just tying up a full garbage bag of the results when the conclusion to Maou’s previous explanation rang in from out of nowhere. 
“So café au lait is French and caffe latte comes from Italian, right? And both terms basically mean ‘milk coffee.’ Both of them are about half milk and half coffee, but with a latte, they generally use espresso as the coffee base!” 
Maou looked up from his toil. 
“If you’re gonna pretend you work at a café, you have to have that answer ready when you’re asked, at the very least!” the voice added. 
There, under the punishing sun, was the Hero Emilia, better known to most as Emi Yusa, her face squinting in the light as she watched the quartet at work. In her arms was a child, Alas Ramus, smiling broadly, unfazed by the heat that made the grown-ups around her struggle to stay upright. 
“Daddyyy!” 
“Ooh! Alas Ramus!” 
Maou approached Emi and the child, both poised under what shade the cicada-infested tree offered. Emi instinctively swung Alas Ramus away from him. 
“Whoa! Don’t get her clothes all dirty! I just bought these!” 
“Oh, sorry, sorry.” He fell back a little. Despite the sweat-soaked shirt and mud-stained gloves he’d just attempted to grab the child with, Maou cared deeply for the little girl. 
“Good afternoon, Yusa!” 
“I am sorry, Emilia. Is it time already?” 
Emi raised her hand in response. “No, I came here a little early…” She stopped and glared at the demons, finding herself having to shout to make herself heard over the cicadas. “Guys, why’re you having Chiho weed for you? I swear, you’re all really abusing her kindness these days, aren’t you? How come one of you is missing, anyway? He isn’t having Chiho help you so he can weasel out of this, is he?” 
The “one of you” Emi referred to was, of course, the third and final denizen of Devil’s Castle—the fallen angel Lucifer, although he wrote “Hanzou Urushihara” on any social networks that required him to give his real name. Given his dedication to laziness and complete disinterest in responsibility, Urushihara’s absence inherently meant to anyone with a brain that he was trying to avoid work again. 
Unexpectedly, it was Suzuno who stepped up to bat to defend Chiho, her voice grim. “From a purely impartial point of view, Lucifer is most certainly not weaseling his way out of anything. It was simply a matter of him not being up to the task.” 
“Huh?” 
Chiho giggled a bit at Suzuno’s wording. “Urushihara got heat exhaustion.” 
“Mm. Indeed,” Suzuno replied. 
“He fainted, eyes rolling into his head, not thirty minutes after we began,” Ashiya interjected, his voice as grim as Suzuno’s as he looked toward the upstairs Devil’s Castle. “It would hardly do to have him die on us, so he is resting inside, under the fan.” 
Emi followed his line of sight upward, exasperated at the thought of it all. The very idea of a fallen angel who tried to obliterate an entire continent letting the August sun get to him! One would think all the spiky leather armor they liked wearing would make a native demon stronger against the heat. 
“All right, but still, why are you having Chiho help you?” 
“Oh, this is fine.” Chiho fanned herself with a hand, the warm conditions reddening her cheeks a little. “I’m doing this because I want to. And besides”—a quick glance at Suzuno—“I owe her a lot more than just this.” 
“Owe her?” This seemed to be news to Maou. He looked quizzically at Emi. “Hey, though, why’re you and Chi here today, anyway? Like, I’m totally happy Chi came over to help and all, but…” 
Chiho had arrived at the apartment at almost the same time as Maou returned home. Judging by how she’d brought her own hat and gloves, Suzuno must have tipped her off about today in advance. But Emi, too…? Maou couldn’t hide his suspicion any longer. 
“……” 
Emi and Suzuno remained silent, faces hesitant. It was Chiho who piped up. 
“That’s…that’s still a secret!” 
“A seek-rit! Ssshh!” 
There was no saying whether Alas Ramus was in on it or not. 
“Right! Better get back to work! Don’t want to keep Yusa and Alas Ramus waiting for too long!” 
Chiho took another broom propped up against the wall and started evening out the bare earth she’d just finished weeding. Maou continued to look on, quizzically… 
“You! Devil King! Alciel!” 
…only to have Suzuno’s scolding snap him back to reality, forcing him and Alciel to join the cleanup job. 
Here, in this little backyard—just a speck in the boiling city, really—the Church cleric, the teenage girl, the Devil King, and the Great Demon General were making surprisingly quick work of the weeding job. Something about it struck Emi as she watched in the shade. 
“It’d be so easy…” 
“Mommy?” 
She whispered it to herself, so softly that not even the child in her arms could hear it among the cacophony from the cicadas above. 
“If I could just run him through right now from behind, it’d make everything so easy… Ugghh.” 
Her eyes were transfixed on the back of his cotton T-shirt, now stained with sweat halfway down his body. 
“Wow, there’s a public bathhouse here? I live right by here, and I had no idea.” 
Chiho looked impressed as she took in the front of the building. 
S ASANOYU , read the sign on the door. It was the public bath of choice among the Devil’s Castle residents, located about ten minutes away on foot from Villa Rosa Sasazuka. 
It looked like just another dusty mixed-use office building from the front, but the inside retained the old-fashioned, homespun feel of a Japan-style communal bathhouse from decades ago, complete with the tile artwork of Mount Fuji on the wall. 
But this wasn’t a relic, either—the bath took pains to adapt its business model to attract modern customers. The selection of bath types available was more than ample, the ticket system offered great deals for regular customers, the mixed-gender rest area in front of the bath entrances had a machine vending cold milk (a staple among any Japanese bathhouse worth its salt), and they even sold soap and other in-house merchandise. 
“They’re open pretty long hours, too. They start in the early afternoon, and they keep going juuuust late enough that I can squeak in after the closing shift at MgRonald.” 
Maou stood next to Chiho, basket of bath accoutrements in hand. He had changed his T-shirt from his weeding session, but nothing else. 
“Sasanoyu offers a remarkable variety of bath types, you know.” There was a twinge of local pride in Suzuno’s voice. “There are even shower booths, allowing one to enjoy the assorted waters while standing up, and I imagine that would be the best for you today, Chiho. I will gladly pay your admission for helping us out, by the way.” 
Something sounded fishy about this to Maou. “The shower? Whaddaya mean, that’d be best for her?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Emi butted in from behind. “Let’s just get inside!” 
“Bath! Splish splish!” 
Maou didn’t appreciate how the Hero accompanied them as if it were her birthright—and, even worse, brought all her own bath stuff with her, like she had been anticipating this. In addition to her usual shoulder bag, she carried another plastic one with a towel and change of clothes for Alas Ramus—so presumably she was going in, too. 
It seemed like the women were all expecting each other from the get-go today. Maybe they were having a girls’ night out later on. Wondering about it only made the suspense worse. 
“Hey, we’re here, Urushihara. Move it. You are being such a pain today…” 
“Ugh… Dude, I’m still dizzy.” 
Urushihara staggered in from behind. The worst of the heatstroke was behind him, but he still had to rely on Ashiya for support. He might not have contributed much to any of the demons’ lives in a positive manner, but the gang leaving the apartment for a bath and returning to find his desiccated corpse on the floor would’ve really bummed out the rest of the evening. Stuffing some water into him and tossing him into a cold bath would help him perk up. 
Maou fished a bath ticket out of his basket. 
“Well, whatever you guys’re up to, keep it legal, okay?” 
“Heh. You’ve got it easy,” Emi muttered. Maou turned around in response, but she wasn’t even looking at him, apparently figuring he didn’t hear her. Instead, behind Emi’s shoulder, Alas Ramus was staring daggers at him. 
“Daddy’s not coming?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Huh?” 
Emi and Maou spoke in unison. 
“Mommy ’n’ Daddy go to different baths?” 
“Uh.” 
It was a simple, innocent question, but it made everyone freeze in place. Maou managed to recover first, trying to muster the most authentic-looking smile he could. 
“Um, so listen, Alas Ramus, you’ll be heading in with Mommy and the other girls…” 
“Yeh! You too, Daddy!” 
She refused to budge. Emi, still frozen, was offering no further help, so Chiho decided to try her luck. 
“Well, no, Alas Ramus… You see, your mommy and daddy aren’t allowed to go in the same bath.” 
“But I-I went with Daddy! Al-shell ’n’ Lush-ferr, too.” 
She remained steadfast. Suzuno was up next. 
“Alas Ramus, grown-ups need to go into either the men’s bath or the women’s bath. You needn’t be so difficult.” 
“But…with Daddy…” 
The child’s lips formed a disapproving pout. She looked downward, seemingly ready to burst into tears at any moment, as Emi finally found it in her to speak up. 
“…You’ve brought Alas Ramus here before?” 
“Well, sure, when she was staying with us. They got a bath here they keep at midlevel heat for the kiddos, so…” 
Before her unexpected fusion with Emi’s holy sword, Alas Ramus had spent a short time in Devil’s Castle, relying on trips to Sasanoyu with the rest of the gang to keep clean. Sometimes Maou brought her along; when he was busy with work, Ashiya took over. Even Suzuno lent a hand sometimes, which meant Alas Ramus should have had some recollection of how the gender system worked. 
But she was still pouting, her eyes moister than before, so Chiho said, “It’s just that you haven’t had a bath with Maou for a while, isn’t it, little Alas Ramas?” 
“Really?” Now Emi was pouting, too. 
Alas Ramus wiped her eyes and nodded. “…Oon.” 
“Listen, Alas Ramus…” 
“Yehh, Daddy?” 
Maou’s calm, collected voice kept a tear from popping out at the last moment. 
“Do you take baths with Mommy most of the time?” 
“…Yeh.” 
“Really? Great. So how ’bout we take a break from that, just for tonight, and you can go take a bath with me?” 
“Wif you?” 
“……” 
Emi focused silently on the top of Maou’s head. He was bent over slightly, on eye level with Alas Ramus. 
“Do you know how to get clean all by yourself yet, over at Mommy’s house?” 
“Snif… Yeh. All by myself!” 
“Oh, that’s great to hear! Your hair, too?” 
“Nuh-uh.” 
Well, it was honest of her, at least. Although given the length of her hair, it was going to be a while before she could wrangle all of that alone. Maou gave it a pat or two anyway. 
“Well, if we practice, I’m sure Mommy will be really surprised when you get back!” 
Snatched back from the brink of tears, Alas Ramus turned her head toward Emi, who was a tad despondent. 
“Yeah! Let’s practice!” 
Emi wore a tight-lipped frown. 
“Oh, don’t look at us like that,” Maou shot back. “Trust me. We’ve done this a few times before, you know. It beats dealing with a crying child. You girls’re all doing something later tonight anyway, right? I could babysit for you all if you want.” 
“……” 
Emi’s eyes darted between Maou and the child, as Chiho and Suzuno looked on with bated breath from behind her. 
“It’s not that I have a… trust problem with it…” 
“Mm?” 
Maou had trouble making her out. The words seemed to tumble around behind her teeth, an indecipherable muddle. She grimaced as Maou extended a hand to her. 
“Can I, Mommy?” 
The three words made her give up all hope. 
“Don’t look at me like that. Ugh…” 
She couldn’t say no. She just wasn’t in the habit of disappointing her girl. 
“…All right. I’d appreciate it if you could do that for me.” 
“Huh?” 
“Huh?” 
“Huh?” 
“Huh?” 
“Huh?” 
Everyone simultaneously grunted their shock, all but demanding confirmation from her. Not even Maou was expecting this. 
The reaction made Emi instinctively add to the chorus: 
“…Huh? What’s with you people…?” 
Despite her doubts, she handed Alas Ramus to the frozen, outstretched arms of Maou. 
“Yay! Bath with Daddy!” 
“……” 
“Daddy?” 
“Like…Emi…?” 
“What?” 
Jostling Alas Ramus into place with an arm, he brought his other hand to Emi’s forehead and touched his palm to it. 
“Whoa!” 
“Ah!” Chiho joined Emi in abject surprise. 
“You’ll ‘appreciate’ it? You’re acting way too cooperative today. You got a fever or something?” 
“What? Of course not! Don’t touch me!” 
Judging by the way she ruthlessly slapped Maou’s hand away, it looked like the same old Emi in front of them. But: 
“S-S-S-Suzuno, did…did, did you see that?” 
“I did. There is no doubting it.” 
Chiho and Suzuno huddled together behind her. Even Ashiya and Urushihara were dubious. 
“Curse you, Emilia… You had best not be planning some nefarious deed!” 
“……” 
This exaggerated reaction was doubtlessly justified. Even a few moments ago, it would be impossible to even imagine Emi allowing Maou to touch her. Sure, they weren’t seeking to kill each other every waking moment—the fact they were now sharing a public bathhouse was proof enough of that—but Emi had never “appreciated” anything Maou did before, and she certainly didn’t allow any touchy-feely stuff. 
Even Maou noticed how awkward this was. He recalled how, not all that long ago, she had steadfastly refused to let him even help patch up her scrapes after falling down the stairs leading up to his place. 
“Wh-what’s the big deal, everyone? Am I…am I acting weird, or what?” 
“Or what” wasn’t the half of it. And Chiho noticed something else unnerving about this defense. The “everyone.” Emi had shown a willingness to work with the demons in the past, when they all had a common goal to work for. But in terms of personal relationships, she never considered Maou, Ashiya, or Urushihara part of her own social circle—in other words, someone to address as part of the “everyone” she’d just pleaded to. It was always “us”—Suzuno, Chiho, and the other Ente Islans—and “them”—the demons and angels she was pitted against. 
“Not at all, no,” Chiho lied through her teeth as she attempted a soft smile. 
“Chiho?” Suzuno saw through it. 
“I’m sorry, Maou. Actually, Yusa and I have a little something we have to do, so could you take care of Alas Ramus in the meantime?” 
“S-sure… You, um, got it?” Maou couldn’t help but phrase it as a question. 
“All right. See you later, Alas Ramus!” 
“Byeee!” The girl batted a tiny hand at the waving Chiho. Maou joined in out of habit as he watched the highly suspect group file into the women’s bath. Once the door shut behind them, he turned to his Demon General confidant. 
“What was that about?” 
“Perhaps…the sun has gotten to more than one of us?” 
“I dunno about that , but…maybe. I was pretty damn sure she had a fever or something, too.” 
“…You think she’s still got some baggage from before?” Urushihara butted in. He was still pale, but well enough to return to his usual flippant self. It didn’t cheer Maou’s mood. 
“Before” referred to early August, when two angels from Ente Isla’s take on heaven had hijacked TV signals across Tokyo for assorted devious purposes. Ashiya, an active participant against them, was aware of that. And he was also aware that along the way, the archangel Gabriel had revealed something to Emi that made her question her entire identity as Hero. 
Emi’s father, thought to be killed at the hands of the advancing Devil King’s Army, was alive. To Emi—who had shouted in Maou’s face that she’d avenge her father with Maou’s head—that revelation made things suddenly very complex. 
Maou felt no subsequent obligation to worry himself much about Emi. But he couldn’t help but wonder if she was aware of another fact, this one obtained by Chiho. A message for Maou and Emi, to be exact, one obtained alongside a vast store of power donated by a new, and heretofore unseen, third party. Chiho never mentioned whether she relayed the message to Emi, and Maou sure wasn’t going to tell her, so he wouldn’t be asking. 
But it still might explain the not-so-subtle changes in Emi’s attitude. 
“Even if she did, I highly doubt it would cause her to soften her stance against us.” 
“…Well, if she keeps acting weird like this, I guess I could ask Chi later.” 
Maou provided a ticket for himself and the money for Alas Ramus to Toyo Murata, the Sasanoyu bath attendant and a woman well north of eighty, and proceeded to the men’s changing room. 
“Maou?” 
“Hmm? What’s up, Toyo?” 
Toyo rarely spoke much, especially if it meant stopping a paying customer in his tracks. 
“’Zat yer wife, there?” 
She nodded toward the women’s side of the house. Maou snickered to himself and shook his head. 
“Nah, nah. Just the mom.” 
“…Mm. Well, keep the child happy, an’ I won’t complain.” Then Toyo fell silent, returning to her corner of the front room and closing her eyes as she listened to the radio. This was usually how Maou’s conversations went with her. It was never easy to tell what she thought of him. He brushed it off, adjusting Alas Ramus’s position in his arms. 
“Okay, Alas Ramus! Ready to hop in the bath?” 
“Yehhh!” 
“Dude, quit shouting. I still got a headache.” 
“Yeah, don’t wade into the hot bath, okay, Urushihara? We’re not gonna drag you back home, too.” 
The seemingly worry-free father, daughter, and minions entered the men’s bath. 
 
“Wow! Are we the first ones here?” 
Chiho’s surprise was evident as they filed into the deserted changing room, quite a bit larger than it looked from the outside. 
With practiced hands, Suzuno grabbed a clothes basket from the stack and took position in front of the lockers. 
“Indeed. Though I imagine not too many people would seek a bath in the middle of the afternoon like this. A stroke of luck!” 
“Which is great and all, but what about the men’s side?” Emi pointed at the tall partition separating them from the men’s section. 
“Oh, I imagine we have little to worry about. While it might depend on Chiho to some extent, we can adjust our strategy when the times call for it. Besides”—Suzuno giggled at Chiho a bit—“it is Chiho of whom we speak. We cannot hide it from the Devil King and his cohorts forever. It is always far easier to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission, as they say. Those demons are hardly fools. They can listen to reason.” 
She began to remove her kimono, Emi’s concern obviously not bothering her much. Chiho, meanwhile, seemed far more pensive. 
“Um…Suzuno? And Yusa, too…thanks again for all your help, okay?” 
Considering the day of work was behind them, this uncharacteristic formality seemed very out of place. Eyes deadly serious, Chiho nodded at her companions as she stood next to Suzuno and began disrobing. Emi began to regret bringing it up. If this was how self-conscious she was already, there was no need to make it worse. 
“Listen to reason, huh…?” 
Now Emi’s eyes were on her right arm, the one that held Alas Ramus not long ago. 
“I’m really starting to feel like an idiot…” 
“…Um, Yusa?” Chiho paused midway through removing her shirt, eyeing Emi with concern. “You think maybe we…shouldn’t, after all?” 
Oh. Was that her question? Emi immediately shook her head, the gloom quickly draining away. “Sorry! No, it’s not that. Just something else I was thinking about. If I wasn’t up for this, I wouldn’t be here. And I wouldn’t have brought this , either.” 
She took pains to sound more cheerful as she took something out of her shoulder bag. At first glance, it looked like the kind of energy shot sold at almost every retail location in the universe. Inside, though, was something that, theoretically, should never have existed on Earth. 
“All right, Chiho…this is the source of our powers here on Earth. It’s called 5-Holy Energy ?.” 
Chiho grasped the tiny bottle firmly and gave a stout nod. 
“Bell and I are gonna be right here the whole time for you, all right? …Are you ready?” 
“Ready!” The affirmation practically burst out of her. 
“I still don’t know what Bell’s gonna do in the bath, but let’s get started. Chiho, welcome to Holy Magic 101.” 
It all began the day after they had defeated Gabriel and Raguel. Coincidentally, it was also the day before Chiho had been discharged from the hospital: 
After wrapping up work for the day, Emi had paid a visit to Chiho’s hospital room. All the medical tests confirmed that Chiho was a perfectly healthy teenager, but it didn’t make the situation any less serious. Not too long before, Chiho had been placed in a coma by a magical force beyond all Japanese medical comprehension. Now, she was champing at the bit to leave. 
“This is really erring too much on the side of caution, don’t you think, Yusa?” 
“That’s what every patient in the world thinks, Chiho. Plus, you’ve put your body through a lot. You need to rest more.” 
Chiho’s powers, which she’d generously showed off at no less than three venues—the Dokodemo Tower, Tokyo Skytree, and Tokyo Tower landmarks—couldn’t have been anything that had just appeared within her overnight. 
There was a great number of things Emi wanted to ask about these newfound abilities, but from Chiho’s perspective, there wasn’t much she could say that she hadn’t already told Maou—how she had obtained these untold powers, what kind of exchange she’d had with her benefactor, and what Chiho had been up to before Emi saw her. And as for this mystery patron: 
“I’m sorry, but I really just don’t know, in the end…” Chiho looked up apologetically from her bed. 
Emi shook her head in reply. “No. it’s okay. Thanks. You’ve been a big help to me.” 
“Um, have I? Oh, but there was one thing I needed to relay…I mean, to talk to you about, Yusa. I think, anyway.” 
“Why’re you so vague about it? You ‘think’ you need to tell me?” 
“Um…well, I had another message for Maou, too, but…” 
Then she explained to her what she had told Maou—that she had memories of the Devil King’s younger days, something she couldn’t possibly have experienced herself. 
“I just feel like…I dunno, like it’s important you knew about that, so…” 
And there was something else. 
“I saw this big, muscular man. He had a beard, and his hair wasn’t that long but he still had it in a ponytail down the back of his neck. He was dressed kind of like a medieval farmer from Europe or something. He seemed nice. Where was he…? I saw something that looked like a really big rice field, except the stalks were all gold, lit up by the sunset…” 
“!!” 
Emi’s heart skipped a beat. 
“…Do you think that was actually wheat, maybe?” Emi asked. “Rice plants droop down when they’re ready for harvest, but wheat stalks would still be standing straight up.” 
“Yeah, that might be the case, then. But I couldn’t really make out what was in the background. The guy was holding a sword, and he was looking at me…or, I guess, he was looking toward my viewpoint, anyway.” 
“A sword?” Emi’s pulse shifted from a quick staccato to an oppressive drone of thumping. “For real?” 
“Yeah, but…” Chiho paused a moment, unsure of what attracted Emi’s attention. “But that’s really it, though. That’s all the memory that I have. That, and…” 
Chiho found herself pausing again, gauging Emi’s clear disappointment. 
“Assieth-arra.” 
“…What?” 
“Assieth-arra. That’s what that man said.” 
“Assieth-arra…? Acieth… Maybe it’s something in the Centurient language.” Emi filed the unfamiliar term into her memory. “I’ll ask Bell about it later.” 
“I just felt like I had to tell you that for some reason, Yusa…but I don’t really know what any of it means myself.” 
Chiho’s anxious expression didn’t escape Emi’s notice as she pondered over this. Not having met the woman in white at Tokyo Big-Egg Town, Chiho had no way of knowing what her memories meant. But to Emi, that all but confirmed her long-held suspicions. She had no idea what was driving her to hide her true identity like this, but only one person in the universe would have a reason to give Chiho a Yesod fragment, toss vast amounts of holy energy around, completely ignore Urushihara, fight against Gabriel and Raguel, and plant memories of a man in a wheat field into Chiho. 
Emi forged a smile—it took a conscious effort—and showed it off. 
“Well, thanks for telling me. It’s a big help.” 
“Um…Yusa?” 
“Yes?” 
Emi attempted to give an even brighter smile to Chiho, but for some reason she shrugged instead, as if under pressure. 
“Are you, like, really angry, maybe?” 
“Huh?” 
“Um, I mean…I’m sorry. I apologized about it to Maou, too, but…I don’t know, just going out there in battle without any training. I thought I might be getting in the way a little, but, um…you know, making people worry about me and all…” 
The words of apology came in rapid-fire fashion as tears began to form in Chiho’s eyes. Emi put a hand to her face. 
“…Is it showing?” 
“Oh, I knew it!” 
The response only unnerved her even more. Emi wrangled her expression back to something more normal for her than a smile in order to calm her down. 
“I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you or anything, Chiho.” 
“…Eh?” 
Emi sighed. “Maybe this would be considered kind of passé in modern Japan, but I really think children need to pay respect to their parents. Unconditionally, even, to some extent.” 
“Um…yeah. I mean, I guess so.” 
“They feed you, they give you a home you can be safe in, they send you to school…you know? And the older you get, I think, the more you truly realize how much of a blessing all of that is.” 
“Uh-huh…” 
Chiho nodded her agreement, not having much clue what inspired Emi’s reflections on life. 
“But…I mean, don’t you think there has to be a limit to that sooner or later?” 
“A limit to what…?” 
Emi smiled darkly. She was hardly an ugly woman, but the sight still made Chiho shiver. 
“I mean, I have no idea where she’s bumping around, she’s painstakingly engineering all these headaches for me, she lets everybody else clean up the messes she makes, she scrounges off her daughter’s friends, she leaves these stupid cryptic messages that never tell me anything I actually need to know, and now she’s causing all this trouble in another world, too… It’s driving me crazy!” 
“Y-Yusa, you need to keep your voice down…” 
They weren’t alone in the hospital room. Chiho tried her best to assuage the Hero from another world as she shook her head and ranted. 
“Why…? If she’s watching me, why won’t she come to me…?” 
The soft question from the crouched-over Emi made Chiho freeze. There was an unquestionable twinge of loneliness to the words. 
“…Sorry. I’m getting too worked up.” 
“Oh, no, I…” 
Chiho hung her head down awkwardly, unable to find the right words. 
“I apologize. This isn’t something you’d know about anyway.” Emi sighed deeply to collect herself, then picked up the paper bag at her feet. “I got you a little get-well gift. It was Alas Ramus’s idea, so it’s not exactly a traditional one, but…” 
Inside the bag was a pack of fried senbei crackers from a top-end candy store. The sight made Chiho finally relax a little. Thanks to the child remaining awake inside her head during work, Alas Ramus was currently enjoying a nap, still ensconced in Emi’s body. 
“Thank you, though,” Emi continued, tying to guide the subject toward more pleasant lands. “This has helped me understand a lot, actually. And I’m glad to see you’re doing fine in here, too.” 
Chiho nodded, crackers in hand. 
“Um, Yusa?” 
“Hmm?” 
“I really want to apologize about all this. It was incredibly rash of me…” 
It was out of character for Chiho, apologizing so profusely about something already done and over with. 
“Oh, that’s fine, Chiho,” Emi calmly replied. “You’re safe now, and that’s what matters. Plus, you helped save us , a little…” 
“That’s the thing!” (Emi’s eyes widened as Chiho’s tone grew sharper.) “It turned out okay this time, but what about next time? There’s no telling what might happen then.” 
“Wh-what’re you trying to say?” 
This restlessness on Chiho’s part was giving Emi pause. Chiho’s eyes turned to the ring on her left hand. 
“That power I had is all gone now. Next time I try jumping out of the hospital window, I’m sure it’d kill me. We’re on the third floor.” 
I don’t think that’s really the problem , Emi thought as Chiho fell silent. 
“The way Maou put it, I don’t have that much…capacity, I guess? For that kind of holy magic. That’s why I wound up getting poisoned by demon force—it was a reaction to that. So that really wasn’t my power at all, I don’t think. I just borrowed it for a little bit.” 
This line of conversation was starting to unnerve Emi more and more. 
“But after all the stuff I did to Gabriel and Raguel…well, it’s not like I can just stay away from Maou’s apartment if something happens any longer…” 
“Whoa! Stop right there! I thought you’d say that!” Emi put a finger to her temple and groaned. “Lemme try to guess what you’re gonna say next. It’s something like ‘Teach me some skills so I can defend myself,’ right?” 
“Huh? H-how did you…” Chiho’s eyes widened at how easily her intentions were guessed. 
“You just said it yourself, Chiho. You worked on borrowed power, and it’s not the sort of thing you were ever supposed to use. I really don’t want you thinking that holy force is some kind of handy magic trick to have lying around. Acquiring the power to attack and defend with it requires years of careful training and study. It’s literally playing with fire.” 
The only way to fend off Chiho’s upcoming defense was with a preemptive offense. The pace of Emi’s voice quickened. 
“You should know what I’m talking about. Your father’s a police officer, right? You wouldn’t give a service pistol to a teenager who’s never been trained to use it. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself with it, much less fight crime or whatever. And even if you knew how to fire it safely, you’re dealing with goons who aren’t gonna listen to reason. The only rule is that there are no rules. They’re gonna go at you with everything they’ve got, and they’re not gonna stop until they take your life. Can you imagine yourself in that situation?” 
“That…” 
The extra tone of authority to Emi’s voice paid off. Chiho fell silent. 
“There’s no way to tell what’ll happen on the battlefield. It’s on a whole different dimension from someplace as peaceful as Japan. You learning how to use holy force would be like taking a handgun to a minefield with bullets flying all over the place. You’d be surrounded by people who see your gun as a weapon and you as the enemy. They’ll attack you relentlessly until you’re dead, all right? They’ll never go easy on you.” 
Emi took a breath before continuing. 
“As far as heaven, the demon realms, and Ente Isla go, you’re still just a casual observer, Chiho. Neither Gabriel nor Raguel think that power you busted out at Tokyo Tower was actually your own. But if you actually picked up your own weapons and appeared on the battlefield, somebody out there’s gonna see you as a target to eliminate. And once you cross that threshold, we might not be able to swoop in to rescue you any longer.” 
She took a glance next to Chiho’s bed. Lying on the floor was a large paper bag with Chiho’s personal belongings. It was brought in by her mother Riho, who had written “Separate your dirty laundry for me, please” on it in marker. 
“Listen, your mother was seriously worried about you. I can’t help it that you’re involved in this now, but we can’t have people start seeing you as ‘the enemy,’ all right? And I’m pretty sure this is one of the few things me and the Devil King agree on.” 
Emi figured invoking Maou’s name would help make her argument more convincing. But, when Chiho lifted her head back up after a few moments, she found her eyes imbued with a very different type of force. 
“Thank you very much. You’re right. I think I see what I have to do now!” 
“Huh?” 
Emi had been trying to scold Chiho into submission. Apparently Chiho took it quite differently than intended. 
“My dad says that sort of thing a lot, too. Like, when he sees an ad in a magazine or whatever for self-defense courses. He’s always like, ‘If you just copy those moves without any training, all you’ll do is hurt yourself.’ I guess that’s what you’re talking about, huh?” 
“Um…well, yeah, pretty much. Kind of on a larger scale, though.” Emi found herself puzzled, unable to guess what Chiho would say next. 
“But…I mean, if I can, I’d like to use holy magic like you guys, Yusa.” 
“But I just told you that—” 
“When Sariel kidnapped me, Suzuno took my cell phone.” 
“What?” Emi’s eyes darted back to Chiho at this unexpected turn. 
“But I wasn’t hurt, and my life wasn’t put in danger or anything. That was because I was an ‘observer’ instead of an ‘enemy,’ wasn’t it?” 
“…Yeah, maybe so. I think Sariel maybe had some dirty thoughts about you and me, but…” 
Emi, kidnapped herself at the time, felt fairly sure about this point. 
“Maou managed to save me then, thanks to Urushihara getting the word out to him in time. But what if Gabriel or someone else kidnaps me and takes me someplace where you and Suzuno and Maou aren’t looking and I can’t use my phone? You wouldn’t have any way of knowing where I am.” 
“…Yeah. True.” 
Chiho balled both of her hands into fists. “My dad always tells me: ‘If you think a crime’s taking place, don’t try to get involved. You have to call the authorities instead!’” 
“Call…?” 
Something about the declaration made Emi parrot a certain word of it. 
“So…if I get caught up in some kind of Ente Isla trouble or I think I’m about to, I definitely won’t try to do something about it myself. What I want to do”—Chiho tightened her face up, eyes locked on Emi—“is be able to make contact with you and Maou as quickly as I can. I want you to teach me how to use that telepathy thing that lets you talk to people far away… I want to know how Idea Links work!!” 
“Th-the Idea Link?!” 
“Yes!” 
Thus… 
“Wh-where’d you learn that name?” 
“Albert mentioned it. Remember? Back when we were all in Maou’s room?” 
…Chiho’s debating skill overwhelmed Emi’s. 
“Nhh…” 
Emi had nothing to dispel Chiho’s argument with. It could make everyone safer, she had to admit. She did, however, refrain from giving an answer until she could stop by Suzuno’s apartment in Sasazuka on the way home and discuss it. 
Suzuno, as expected, had been pretty leery of Chiho’s idea, but something about the way she described it as “calling the authorities” was oddly persuasive to both of them. A long, heavy silence pervaded over Room 202 of Villa Rosa Sasazuka before Suzuno spoke. 
“The Devil King said it himself. If we continue to whine about not wanting to involve the people of Japan in Ente Islan affairs, why have we not erased Chiho’s memories?” 
“What’re you talking about? That’s…” 
Emi recalled the argument Chiho and Suzuno had not long after the latter arrived on Earth. Suzuno was ready to erase her memories on the spot for the sake of her own safety, but Chiho refused, stating that she didn’t want to forget about all of them. Emi had stepped in as well, professing that seeing sacrifices like wiping Chiho’s brain as a necessary evil—closing your eyes to the fact you made your friends cry—was, as she put it, not the kind of peace she was fighting for. 
Suzuno chuckled softly, likely remembering the same exchange. “If safety was our only concern,” she reasoned, “we should erase Chiho’s memories, torch the Devil’s Castle, and return to Ente Isla. And yet, neither of us has done that. And we have many reasons for that, but one powerful one is that Chiho has become a friend to us, someone we feel safe in revealing everything to.” 
Emi nodded. “You’re saying that that’s how we…want her to be?” 
“Indeed. Thus, we have a duty to take whatever measures we deem necessary to protect our friend.” 
With that, Suzuno stood up and took out a 5-Holy Energy ? from the refrigerator. 
“This may be presumptuous of me.” She smiled, holding the chilled bottle in her hand. “But seeing Chiho take such a strong stand… It pleases me.” 
“…Yeah.” 
Emi, following Suzuno’s lead, slowly cracked a smile. 
The smile on Chiho’s own face when she left the hospital and was formally granted permission to study holy magic was like a spring sunflower in full bloom. She thanked Emi over and over again, to the point where Emi was starting to feel self-conscious about it. 
They decided to begin her training on the first day Emi and Suzuno both had ample free time to work with—in other words, today. The morning yard work was, in a way, Chiho’s first tuition payment. 
“Very well, Chiho. Before you disrobe, we should begin by instilling some holy force within you.” 
Holy energy drink in hand, Suzuno tied the belt back on to her kimono and sat Chiho down in a changing-room seat. Then she opened the cap and handed the bottle to her, placing her free hand on top of Chiho’s. 
“Now, drink just a tiny amount at a time. If anything feels strange to you, I want you to stop immediately.” 
“Okay…” 
This was Chiho’s request, but something about coming into contact with an unknown force like this still unnerved her. Taking her hand, Suzuno used her magical-sonar probing abilities to keep tabs on Chiho’s internals as she slowly drank the 5-Holy Energy ?, taking care not to overload her body with the magical force it held. 
Once her capacity for the force was filled to maximum, it was time to begin training. 
An Idea Link, as the name implied, allowed two or more people to link together on the same wavelength and communicate over vast distances, as well as gain an innate understanding of people speaking foreign languages without any lost-in-translation mishaps. Maou and Emi were fluent in Japanese now, but when they first arrived, they had little choice but to use Idea Links to convert speech to and from Japanese for the sake of the locals. 
In a way, the whole reason Chiho was caught up in the angels’ conspiracy and sent to the hospital in the first place was due to an extremely long-distance Idea Link sent by Emi’s friend, Albert. But if Chiho could master it for herself, it could serve as a kind of insurance in case she needed to contact Emi, Maou, or Suzuno about an Ente Islan issue and couldn’t do it on her cell phone. 
“Given that there is no one on Earth with holy-magic abilities, you will not have a very large capacity for this energy, Chiho. Take due care not to imbibe too much.” 
Emi gauged both of them from the side. “She had a ton of power at her fingertips at Tokyo Tower, though. How did that work?” 
Chiho raised an eyebrow, apparently wondering the same thing. 
“Likely in the same manner as the procedure I am conducting now,” Suzuno explained. “In addition to the holy energy we are trying to infuse in her, Chiho’s body is being probed by my holy-magic sonar. However, that is run off my holy energy, which has nothing to do with her total capacity for it.” 
The hand Chiho held the bottle with had a magical ring on it, and Suzuno examined it. Afterward, she nodded to herself. 
“I imagine the caster actually used that ring as a medium to refract the holy energy into Chiho. To put it in a more brusque manner, one could say that Chiho formed a part of the caster’s body at that time.” 
Emi and Chiho furrowed their brows at this explanation, each for their own reasons. 
“Just using people like that… Who does she think she is?” 
Emi, for one, was complaining at someone not in the room. 
“So I guess I was being manipulated that whole time after all…?” 
Chiho, for her part, frowned at herself as she realized the full danger of exposing her body to such a powerful, unknown force. 
“Well, I suppose the fact you were not used for nefarious purposes is the silver lining to that cloud, yes. …Halt, Chiho. Drink no more.” 
Suzuno stopped Chiho’s hand. Emi took a glance at the bottle on the table. “Wow, she drank a lot,” she observed. “That’s about a third of the bottle.” 
Suzuno took a look for herself as she kept her hand around Chiho’s. “To put it another way, one could say that 5-Holy Energy ? is not so terribly concentrated a supply of holy force. An entire bottle is not enough to restore your energy to what it was in your heyday, is it, Emilia?” 
“Well, no, but…” 
But Emeralda still had warned her never to drink more than two bottles a day. At first, Emi had thought this was because more than two would overload her body’s energy capacity. Drink enough regular energy shots at once, after all, and you might be seeing the inside of an ER before the night was through. 
“Guess it’s kind of like medicine, then, huh?” Chiho said. “Isn’t your supply of energy naturally replenished on Ente Isla anyway? It’s kind of like how the label on a bottle of supplements still tells you to eat a good diet and exercise and stuff.” 
“…Maybe so, yeah,” Emi agreed. It’d be one thing if they could generate their own holy energy like back at home, but instead they were storing it in liquid form in their refrigerators. Taking too much of it this way might affect their natural ability to replenish it in assorted ways. 
After a moment, Suzuno finally removed her hand from Chiho. 
“All right. Your body has stabilized itself, Chiho. Do you feel unwell at all?” 
Chiho scanned her body visually for a moment. 
“No… It doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, really.” 
“Likely not. Regardless, we’ve completed the basic preparations for wielding holy power. Now, off to the bath with us.” 
“S-sure!” 
Chiho sat up straight and bowed her head to Emi and Suzuno. 
“Th-thanks in advance for this!” 
The two of them exchanged glances. Chiho couldn’t be acting nicer toward them. Emi still had no idea what taking a bath had to do with holy-magic training, but Suzuno was a highly trained cleric—she must have had her reasons. No point asking questions that would put a damper on Chiho’s spirits. 
“So now what? You aren’t gonna lecture her on the basics of a public bath, are you?” 
“No, now is no time for a long-winded treatise on the fundamentals. Plus, not that I distrust Chiho, but such a comprehensive approach might accidentally open her mind to other abilities apart from the Idea Link. For now, we must take the time to focus on keeping her stable and working her through the basic skill set.” 
“Wow. Sounds kinda tough. But exciting!” 
Chiho’s voice was starting to sound a tad strained. Emi gave her a pat on the back. “Don’t get too nervous. It’s important that you stay relaxed at the start. I’m sure that’s why Bell brought us to the bathhouse.” 
“Precisely. Now, while we still have the bath to ourselves, I say we bask in the water and relieve some of the fatigue from the morning’s work.” 
“Sure thing!” 
Just a bit of the burden lifted from her shoulders, Chiho eagerly brought her hands to the bottom of her T-shirt. 
Several minutes later: 
“……” 
“……” 
“Um… Yusa? Suzuno?” 
On the seating in front of the well-polished tile wall, Chiho carefully eyed Emi and Suzuno as they washed their hair and bodies. Their faces looked oddly tormented, and they had looked that way since the moment she’d removed her top in the changing room. 
Both of them kept their heads down as water poured from the showerheads mounted on the wall. That way, she wouldn’t have to see their tears of jealous frustration. 
“I wondered about this at our inn while in Choshi, too, but…man, what did she do to get so, um, big?” 
“Uhmm…” 
“I am certain that we received just as much nutrition as she has, growing up…but why…?” 
“Ehmm…” 
“But think about it, Bell. Those have to get in the way in battle.” 
“Would they? Well. A pity for her, then…I suppose…” 
A heavy sigh echoed across the otherwise empty bath chamber. Chiho, who wrapped up her washing first due to her short hair but felt odd leaving the other two to themselves, tentatively asked a question. 
“Um…is something up?” 
The way she was so oblivious made it impossible for them to envy or tease her about it. All they could do was look at her, shampoo bubbles in their hair, and mutter to themselves: 
“Best not to keep abreast of it.” 
“Huh?!” 
Chiho, oblivious as she was, looked at the two of them with concern in her eyes. 
The Hero and Church cleric, watching Chiho act confused in the most darling of ways in front of them, silently apologized for their behavior over the past few seconds. They knew Chiho wasn’t at fault for this. 
“…Nothing is more embarrassing for a cleric than letting her feelings turn to jealousy…” 
“And she won’t even let us do that … Man, Chiho can be scary sometimes.” 
They washed their hair in silence before rinsing the rest of their bodies. In the duration, Suzuno attempted to put the issue behind her. Because: 
“Now, Chiho! It is time to begin training!” 
“Huh? Oh, uh, okay, but… Huh?” 
“It’s fine, Chiho,” Emi soothed the dubious Chiho with a smile of resignation. Emi and Suzuno had towels wrapped around their bodies, and although they had just finished washing their hair, Chiho noticed that Suzuno had her hairpin in her hand. She wondered idly if the humidity in the air might damage it. 
“First, I’d like you to go into the shower booth over there and put the showerhead up as high as it’ll go.” 
“A-all right.” 
The booths at the far end of the chamber, as opposed to the showers lining the tiled wall, were the regular kind one saw in home bathrooms, featuring handheld showerheads attached by hoses to the tap. Suzuno had Chiho put the head up to the highest position on the wall, then stood her under it. 

“Why that shower, though?” 
The casual question lobbed by Emi from behind was greeted with a clear answer from Suzuno. 
“All of the best training involves silent meditation seated under a waterfall at some point, does it not?” 
“……Huh?” 
Chiho and Emi froze for a moment. 
Fwooooosssshhhh… 
As Chiho stood rigid, eyes closed, feeling the hot water against her skin, she began to kindle a few doubts about Suzuno’s training methods. Emi, relaxing in a semiwarm bath in front of the shower booth, had the same concern, eyeing Suzuno with clear suspicion on her face. Suzuno had a habit of using her admittedly vast knowledge of Japanese culture, making terribly wrong assumptions with it, and taking it to the looniest of extremes. 
Chiho had mixed feelings about this. She had seen Buddhist monks praying underneath waterfalls on TV as a child, and she had often pretended to do the same thing at bathhouses or hot springs. It wasn’t unfamiliar to her, in other words, but it wasn’t something she thought had much purpose. 
Suzuno adjusted the nozzle so that it wasn’t going full blast but instead dribbled a thick stream of water directly on top of Chiho’s head in an earnest attempt to simulate a gushing cliffside torrent. 
Adding to the worry were the voices they heard over the wall on the men’s side of the bath. 
“Hah-hah! Hey, Alas Ramus! It’s time for your ninja training!” 
“Your Demonic Highness! That shower is far too hot for her! If you want to pretend it’s a waterfall, use the adjacent one instead!” 
It began to make Chiho wonder what she was doing with her life. 
“Now,” Suzuno intoned, “I want you to stay in that position and listen to me. How confident are you in your strength, Chiho?” 
Chiho kept her eyes shut, taking pains to ensure water didn’t enter her mouth. 
“Well, I guess I’m about as strong as anyone else… I play a few sports at school.” 
“In Ente Isla, those who wield holy power are known as casters. This power is fundamentally different from what this world would call ‘magic.’ I have the impression that in Japan and elsewhere in the world, magic wielders are often seen as elderly, bearded, and rather physically weak.” 
“…I suppose, yeah. I don’t play them too much, but wizards in video games and stuff usually don’t have swords or anything—agphh!” 
Chiho swayed a bit to keep from aspirating water through her nose. 
“That is not the case with a caster. If a strong caster and a weak one cast the same spell, the one cast by the stronger will be both more powerful and more effective on a greater variety of targets. Thus, no matter how much natural talent one may have, a child caster would never have a chance at being more capable than the equivalent adult caster.” 
“Uh, were you watching the Movie of the Week yesterday, Bell?” 
Emi recalled that Suzuno bought a flat-screen TV at the same time Maou did. Last night, a station was playing the first in a certain series of films starring a young, bespectacled wizard in training. 
“They were carrying on about it next door, so I turned it on to see what the fuss was about and wound up watching the entire film. I slept in a bit this morning as a result.” 
Chiho, eyes still closed, chuckled to herself. She knew Maou was something of a closet film buff. 
“But there are many cases of elderly casters attempting a spell they could easily weave during their prime, but dying as a result because the stress was too great on their frail bodies. Assuming one begins at fifteen, devotes oneself fully to training, and is willing to abstain from unhealthy habits for the sake of it, one’s holy force stays at its peak only until the age of forty, it is said.” 
“Wow… Sounds kind of like being a professional athlete.” 
“Indeed. If someone over fifty can fully wield holy force without the aid of an amplifying device, that would be considered a once-in-a-generation talent. I know this is not a name you two enjoy hearing, but Olba is approaching sixty and still has full control over his holy powers. A practically inhuman feat, that!” 
“Yeah… He was a fairly even match for Alciel in demon form, too.” 
Emi stretched in the bath as she recalled fighting Olba and Lucifer underneath the collapsing Shuto Expressway. The fact that Olba still felt obliged to arm himself with a handgun in Japan was an indicator, perhaps, that he didn’t want to overexert himself with casting beyond what was safe. 
“Most of who are called the Six Archbishops are cut from the same cloth—elderly casters who still wield considerable powers. But they are the exception that proves the rule. Your sports analogy was expertly stated, Chiho. Think of the ability to cast holy magic as directly proportional to one’s core strength and musculature. As for why that is… Emilia, after you imbue your body with holy energy, where is it stored?” 
Emi provided a concise answer. 
“The heart.” 
“Huhh?!” 
Chiho had assumed that the power just sort of spread itself around her body, not just to a single internal organ. 
“The reasoning is simple. The oxygen taken in by one’s lungs is transported via the bloodstream across the body, and the heart is the pump that circulates this blood around. In order to cast holy magic, one must transport the energy to either one’s entire body or to the necessary region. Just like oxygen, this energy, too, is taken into the bloodstream. To be more exact, the heart acts as a sort of terminal for holy energy as it is circulated around. Now do you see why casting is so intricately connected to physical strength?” 
Suzuno paused for a moment before continuing. 
“To put it in rather a brash manner, if there is enough holy force transmitted across one’s body, even if the resulting burden causes the terminal—the heart—to explode, it is theoretically possible to focus all the circulating force in the body back to its core to reconstruct the heart.” 
The concept made Chiho freeze in the shower. 
“Not that one would dare attempt to brave such undulating waves of force within their own body—it would have to be desperate times in battle indeed to attempt it. You certainly need never worry about that, Chiho, with the power circulating through you right now. Your body’s metabolism breaks down only a tiny amount of it at a time; only through actually casting holy energy can one consume it very quickly. It was something we never noticed on Ente Isla, since we regenerated it naturally—only in Japan did it become an issue. Thanks to that, I have made a fascinating discovery…” 
Suzuno used a finger to scratch the back of her hand. 
“When one has a great capacity for holy force and that capacity grows full, it helps make your skin shinier and less dry.” 
“Huhh?!” 
This even surprised Emi. 
“So that—agh!” Chiho, too, was surprised, judging by how she opened her eyes and promptly had them stung by the hot water. “So—Suzuno, that’s why your skin’s always in such good shape? Like, without any makeup or anything?” 
“That, of course, plus a well-balanced diet. Sweets and snacks at a minimum, coupled with regular exercise. And early to bed, early to rise, as they say.” 
“……” 
Whether she intended it to sound like a lecture or not, Suzuno’s lifestyle was something neither the chocoholic night-owl teenager nor the call-center rep who split her meals between microwaved junk and take-out junk (and, sometimes, microwaved take-out junk) could hope to emulate. Emi began scratching the back of her own hand, perhaps not as confident of her own skin’s quality. 
“W-well…I’ve been cooking more for Alas Ramus lately, so I’m trying, at least…” 
“Unless your metabolism has changed greatly,” Suzuno said, “I would say you have Alas Ramus to thank for your skin more than anything else. She has fused with you, and the Holy Silver that forms your sword cannot be removed from your body. If there are any gaps in your holy-force quotient, I would imagine Alas Ramus more than makes up for them.” 
“Huh… Y’know, I think my appetite’s gotten healthier lately, actually…” 
“Yusa! Can we get back on topic?” 
“Regardless,” Suzuno said, taking Chiho’s cue to free Emi from her trip into the halls of self-pity. “The point is that one’s physical strength directly correlates to their casting strength. Or, to put it another way, casting holy spells can have an exhausting effect.” 
“A-all right,” said Chiho. It was a fairly circuitous route to that conclusion, but it seemed sensible enough. 
“Emilia and I may seem to be casting our holy force around willy-nilly, but that is because we have the physical strength to back that up. Even if we are injured, we can consume the holy force spread across our body to speed up our healing abilities. Thus, for example, if you and I sustained the same wound, Chiho, that would not restrict me quite as much as it would you.” 
“Wow. So that’s why you guys can keep fighting if you get shot in the shoulder or slashed in the arm with a sword and stuff…?” 
“Uh, that still hurts a lot for us, Chiho. We’re not action-movie heroes.” 
From Chiho’s experience, at least, it had certainly seemed that way during the battles she’d witnessed. 
“Indeed. And when you are still a neophyte in the realm of holy power, harnessing it will sap your energy beyond imagination. We will need to begin by teaching you how to activate this power, move on to casting procedures, then finish up with how to use the force in as efficient a manner as possible. …That should be long enough of a shower. Next, I will have you enter this lukewarm bath.” 
“S-sure!” 
Chiho left the shower booth, shaking off the excess moisture from her hair and wrapping it up with her towel. 
“No doing up your hair, Chiho. Just wipe it down and enter the bath.” 
“Oh, uh, okay.” Giving it a few decent rubs, Chiho entered the bath, taking care not to let her hair touch the water. 
“Place the back of your head against the edge of the bath… Good. Now, loosen your body up, just enough so that you can feel your body floating. Next, I want you to picture the holy force running across your upper body, from the top of your head to the ends of your fingertips.” 
This reminded Chiho well enough of the Zen focusing exercises she was taught in her kyudo archery club at high school. She followed Suzuno’s instructions, letting the tension flow away from her body. The warmth felt good against her skin, and she found herself naturally floating upward. 
The back of her head, previously beaten upon by the narrowed shower flow, gradually began to feel like it existed above her instead, a sensation difficult to experience elsewhere. That must have been what the “waterfall” bit was for. Chiho apologized internally for doubting Suzuno for a moment. 
There was still no sense of some otherworldly power teeming across her body, yet the excitement of taking a journey into an unknown realm of consciousness made Chiho reflexively smile to herself. She had a serious reason for wanting to harness this force, but there was no resisting the pride that came from being able to do something she couldn’t before. 
“Right… It is flowing healthily, yes. No bottlenecks.” 
“Yeah, it couldn’t be smoother. Stable, too.” 
The next thing Chiho knew, Suzuno and Emi were each holding one of her hands in place, no doubt monitoring her internals. 
“All right. Now it is time to activate it. As a beginner, I would not expect you capable of unleashing strictly the amount of holy force your spell requires. For now, just give each casting everything you have within you. We can focus on eliminating waste after that. I suppose athletics are somewhat similar in this respect as well, yes?” 
They were. In terms of physical performance, at least. The mental game was another matter. 
“Now, I want you to take deep breaths. Breathe in slowly, through your nose, then exhale slowly through your mouth. I want you to feel the air and the blood that courses through your body.” 
“All right.” Chiho followed her command for the next little while. By the end of it, she was sweating. 
“Yes. Very good. Now, Chiho, open your eyes and sit up.” 
She did. The exercise, plus the heating effect of the bath, made her feel pleasantly warm all over. 
“Now, Emilia, if you could, I want you to show us a spell. One that does not require some manner of amplifying device, please.” 
Emi blinked, not expecting to be called upon. “No amplifier? Most of what I knew is powered either by my sword or the Cloth of the Dispeller, but—” 
“Um, I’m sorry,” Chiho said, cutting her off, “but what do you mean by an ‘amplifier’?” 
“Ah. Yes. My apologies. It is, to put it simply, a tool required to cast spells. In my case, for example…” 
Suzuno sat up, taking the hairpin sitting on the lip of the tub, and held it in the air. 
“Whoa!” 
The pin began to shine, transforming into an enormous war hammer in the blink of an eye. 
Chiho tensed. A hammer of this size, inside a public bath. If anyone decided to blunder in for an afternoon soak right now, it’d be hard to provide a coherent excuse. 
“I use my hairpin as an agent to conjure this spell. I will gloss over the details for now, but having an agent, or an amplifier, handy makes it much easier to conceptualize what you are trying to use your holy power for. This means less power wasted. The amplifier itself does not need to be any particularly special device.” 
Suzuno’s hairpin was an exquisite piece of Asian fashion, but it was neither holy nor magical in nature. It was just one of the many purchases she made during the glitzy shopping spree that marked her first few days in Japan. 
“Okay. Well, I really oughta be casting this with my Cloth, but… Heavenly Fleet Feet!” 
There was a clear exclamation point on the end, but Emi’s voice was soft as she remained seated in the bath. Then, on the floor of the tub, her legs began to light up as she literally floated into the air, legs still crossed. 
“Y-Yusa?!” 
In the space of seconds, her entire body cleared the water’s surface, drifting ever upward. 
So, here in the midafternoon hours, the neighborhood bathhouse was now being patronized by a naked woman with a war hammer and another naked woman levitating over the bath. Anyone walking in now would certainly have enough material to write a tabloid cover story. 
“This is really meant for casting with the Cloth, so I’m cutting a few corners, but you can cast this well enough without an amplifier.” 
“Oh…um, cutting corners how, exactly?” 
Chiho’s eyes darted between the entrance doorway and the boots of light over Emi’s feet, something that seemed as beautiful as CGI-driven magic from an adventure film. Suzuno’s eyes, however, were much more critical as she pointed them out. 
“Look at that. The edge of the light. It is undulating, can you see? Like a campfire’s flame.” 
“Oh, you’re right!” 
Chiho compared the sight with Suzuno’s hammer. The weapon was emitting a light of its own, but not the unstable, wavering light of Emi’s boots. This struck her as a more well-regulated, uniform flame, like a gas cooktop’s burner. 
“That undulation shows that the outgoing flow of holy force is unstable. While it depends on the exact type of spell being cast, having an amplifier always lets you more efficiently, and more effectively, unleash one’s spell.” 
“Whew… Yeah, casting solo really tires you out.” 
Emi gingerly brought herself back down into the water as Suzuno returned the hammer to her hairpin, letting Chiho breathe a well-deserved sigh of relief. 
“Now, Chiho, a question for you. What was the difference between my spell and Emilia’s just now?” 
“The difference…?” Chiho rewound her memory back a few moments. “…Your spell didn’t have a name, Suzuno?” 
The response made Suzuno lift an approving eyebrow. “Very good. Heavens, on the first try, no less! Although the spell type has a name, of course. We call it the Light of Iron.” 
“But you still cast it anyway, right? Is that because you could visualize it a lot easier with that amplifier thingy?” 
“Correct.” Suzuno nodded, satisfied. “Executing a spell is, in a way, taking an image and embodying it in real life. In order to use holy force to create the effect you wish, it is vital that you have a refined knowledge of holy activation and the consummate ability to visualize it. A bit like kneading a pile of clay into a work of art, one could say. Thus, in the case of a spell without an amplifier, it becomes more important to do things like state the name of the spell or effect out loud, in order to make it easier to conceive the results in your mind. It can make a surprising difference in the spell’s effect and power usage.” 
This seminar, along with all the visual aids, reminded Chiho all over again that the two women she shared this bath with were no natives of this planet. 
“The challenge is activing this power in the first place. It can be rather difficult to visualize at first, given how it has no comparison in the physical realm. Thus, instead of studying the mechanics of ferrying holy force around, it would be quickest to learn instinctively how to activate and process it within your body.” 
Suzuno motioned with her head toward Emi. 
“I apologize for bothering you, Emilia, but could you return to the changing room and provide a distraction for us? I want to deploy a barrier over the entrance and the skylight.” 
Emi nodded and walked out of the bath. 
“Huh? Wh-what for?” Chiho stuttered. 
“This is something any student in the holy arts has to go through,” Emi replied over her shoulder. “But if we carry it out unprepared in Japan, that could attract some…attention.” 
Her vague answer did little to allay Chiho’s fears. 
“Right, but…what is it?” 
“Simple. I want you to scream for me.” 
“Huh?” 
Chiho took a couple of dubious looks at her companions. 
“It can be anything you like. Just shout it as loud as you can.” 
“Yeah, but…scream? Here?” 
Suzuno nodded, as if someone just asked whether she’d like some noodles for lunch. 
“Oh, but don’t tense up your body too much when you do,” Emi blithely added. “That won’t make it come out as much. Stay loose, okay?” 
“Um, do I…?” 
Thinking about the pair’s request made Chiho feel like a giant snake of embarrassment was rearing up to strike at her heart with its venom of shame. This was a public bath, after all. Whether they were the only customers or not, the elderly bathkeeper was still at the far end of the changing room—and, more important to her, Maou and gang were just on the other side of the partition. 
Suzuno, sensing this hesitation, cleared her throat. “Call it a war cry, if you will,” she said. “The effect of such a shout has been scientifically proven in Ente Isla as well as in Japan. Even with a simple punch, the difference between throwing it silently and shouting from the pit of your stomach as you do is vast. It elevates your emotions, energizing your body cells and giving you a psychological sense of release, making it a highly effective battle tactic.” 
Then, without warning, Suzuno drew her face close to Chiho, making her edge back a bit. 
“ However! Like any manner of training, approaching it with a negative attitude will result in little to no improvement. Shouting here will do nothing to activate your holy force if you are too preoccupied about what the Devil King may think of the noise.” 
Chiho’s face turned red. Anyone’s would after being so easily read like an open book. 
“But why here, though? Wouldn’t it be better if we went in a karaoke booth or something…?” 
Suzuno shook her head at the reluctant, non-Chiho-like request. “The psychological release that stems from overcoming your internal conflict and shame is far more potent than any regular type of emotion. That makes it all the more possible for us to achieve great advances in a short time. Especially if the Devil King lies on the other side.” 
Emi, watching Suzuno advance upon Chiho, raised an eyebrow. 
“You know, with that logic, one misstep and things could get really dangerous.” 
Suzuno, witnessing how red and almost teary-eyed Chiho still was, shook her head. “It is an excellent virtue of the Japanese race, avoiding loud commotions in public places, but we are working under different circumstances. Allow me to provide a demonstration. You can follow my lead.” 
“Oh, but you—” 
Chiho could no longer hide her apprehension. For all they knew, there were other male bathers apart from Maou and friends. But Suzuno showed her no mercy. 
“When I speak, I want you to reply as loudly as possible!” 
“Y-yeahhh…!” Chiho made a token effort. 
“…Um, all right. I’ll make sure the coast is clear out front, so…” 
Emi hurriedly exited the room before she had to watch Suzuno get even more intense with her training. 
“Now, let us begin!” 
“Okaaaay!!” 
Suzuno, satisfied with Chiho’s reply, did her best imitation of a vacuum cleaner as she inhaled. 
“Now! As loudly as you can! Hyaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” 
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa… Owww!!!” 
Urushihara, washing his hair on the other side, flew to his feet at the volume of Suzuno’s voice, dropping the showerhead on his little toe in the process. 
“D-dude, what was that ?!” 
“Are we under attack?!” 
Neither Maou nor Ashiya were laughing. 
The tiled environment made the scream echo time and time again, the war cry expanding to an entire order of knights galloping across the countryside, thoroughly creeping out the demons as it did. 
Then, out of nowhere, Alas Ramus—lying on Maou’s knee as he washed her hair—opened her eyes and decided to join in at full blast. 
“Ohhhhhhhhhh!” 
“Agh!” 
The resulting bolt of holy force the child unleashed almost blew Maou against the wall. 
Then, the next instant, they heard Chiho’s scream, a shriek that could’ve broken a pro basketball backboard. 
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” 
“?!?!?!” 
Maou’s eyes bugged out of their sockets as he tried and failed to parse the situation. Sensing Chiho was in some sort of danger, he left the bubble-bath-laden Alas Ramus in Ashiya’s hands, took a few moments to wrap a towel around his waist, then flew out to the common platform past the changing rooms with the speed of a tornado. 
There he was greeted by Emi, in her postbath shirt, her face burning red as she held Toyo the bath keeper’s hand. 
“Hey! Why’re you looking like that ?!” 
It was hard to tell whether Toyo was sleeping or not most of the time, but there was no way she could have missed all that shouting. Emi had to have used some kind of holy-power spell on her, he realized. 
“E-Emi?! What the hell’re you girls doing over there?!” 
“None of it’s escaping the walls of this place, all right? I put the bath keeper to sleep just in case, but there’s nothing dangerous about… Whoa, your towel’s gonna fall off!” 
Emi tried her best to keep Maou from wandering into her line of sight. Only then did he notice how far down the nether regions his towel had wandered. But it was odd. Despite the sheer volume of the screaming—especially that last one—it was like all the sound had shut off the moment he left the bath. 
“Look, can you just tell me what—whoa!” 
“—raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!” 
Just as Maou stuck his head back into the men’s bath to investigate further, another scream thudded against his eardrums, scaring him enough that he slipped on the changing-room tile floor and fell on his rear end. 
“Y-Your Demonic Highness, are you all right?! B-Bell, what in all of creation are you doing ?! You’re being a nuisance to the entire neighbor—” 
“Whoooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” 
Ashiya, on his way to lodge a formal complaint against the girls on the other side, was cut off by Suzuno’s shrill battle cry. It startled him enough to take a few furtive steps backward—right over the bar of soap Urushihara left on the floor, sending him flying. 
“L-look out!” 
Urushihara, still nursing his little toe, watched Ashiya’s large frame swivel precariously in the air… 
“Yaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” 
…and managed to catch Alas Ramus, screaming in perfect harmony with the ladies as she flew through the air… 
“Gehh!” 
…as he let Ashiya hit the floor, missing the opposite wall with his head by a few inches. 
As Maou attempted to help Ashiya back up, he heard a knock on the sliding door to the men’s bath from Emi. 
“Hey, that sounded pretty rough. Are you okay?” 
“ You’re sounding pretty rough, man! What the hell’s up with Suzuno and—” 
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!” 
“Does it have to do with Alas—” 
“Lower! From your stomaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaach!!” 
“Emi, you better explain this to—” 
“One, two, three, yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggghhhhhhh !!” 
“Yes! Yes! Keep it hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggghhhhhhhhhh !!” 
“Shut uuuuuuuuuuuuuuppppppppp !!” 
The continued rapid-fire screaming contest between Suzuno and Chiho made it impossible for Maou to even talk to Emi across the door. 
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!” 
“Don’t you join in, Alas Ramus!” Maou reached for the child, trying his hardest to shrug off the holy force radiating from her. “Emi, come on ! I don’t know what you’re up to, but make them stop! You’re driving the whole town crazy!” 
“It’s fine! We put up a barrier to keep other customers from coming in!” 
“What’s fine about that?! Now you’re interfering with their business!” 
“I’ll explain once we’re done, okay? Don’t worry about it so much!” 
Emi turned on her heels, refusing to answer the question. 
“H-hey! Get back here!!” 
Maou gave chase, all but flinging himself out from the bath. But the sliding door to the front area refused to budge. Emi must have been holding it shut. 
“How can I help youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu?!” 
“Right away , sirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!” 
“Oh, now you’re waitresses?! Seriously! What’re you doing ?! Emi! Open the door! Come on!” 
The unusual scene of the Hero keeping the Devil King locked inside a Japanese-style public bath lasted for less than five minutes. But then: 
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… Aigh?!” 

Amid the droning wail, Maou picked up on Chiho screaming for quite a different reason. This called for action. 
“Ugh! I don’t care if someone reports me! Ashiya! Give me a leg up! I’m climbing up into the women’s bath!” 
“M-my liege, take hold of your senses! If you do something so sordid, your very position in society might be placed at risk!!” 
“Okay then, Urushihara! Like you care about that crap! Get up there!” 
“Dude, I refuse to have you treat my social life like it’s a piece of garbage!” 
Just as the argument between the three arch-demons over who would commit perhaps the most classical example of sexual harassment in Japan reached its fevered peak, they noticed Emi’s exasperated voice. 
“…Uh, hey, this is open now.” 
Coming to their senses, they found that the echoing of Chiho’s and Suzuno’s wicked keening had subsided. Even Alas Ramus, still in Urushihara’s arms, had settled back to her usual quiet self. 
“What was that?!” 
Ashiya, finally fishing himself up off the floor, looked up at the partition separating the men’s and women’s sides. 
“Did you not notice, my liege? Perhaps not. It was just for a moment.” 
“Hmm?” 
“Uh, hang on… Emilia was over there, Alas Ramus was over here, and Bell was—huhh?” 
Urushihara was the first to notice. Eyebrows pressed flat against his lashes, he stared down Emi from the men’s changing room, back turned to the other demons. 
“Dude, what’re you thinking? Don’t do that in, like, real life , man. Why’re you devoting your frontline resources to add in someone who’s gonna be useless to you anyway? You got that much free power rolling around?” 
Urushihara sounded gruffer than usual. Emi was having none of it. 
“That’s not what we’re doing at all. She’s fully aware of that.” 
Emi couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Ideally, in her opinion, this whole situation should have been avoidable. 
“She just wants the power to report back to you or me in case of emergency.” 
“Report…? Whoa! For real?!” 
Maou, finally picking up the gist, looked up at the partition. 
“She knows exactly what she can and can’t do, all right? We put our trust in that. But I think the biggest reason…” 
Emi turned her face to the confused Maou. 
“…I think it comes down to the fact she doesn’t want you expending more resources than you absolutely need to if she’s caught up in something. I mean, whether she keeps her memories or not, she’s definitely involved with us now.” 
Maou paid only a modicum of attention to Emi as he clumsily wiped himself dry, put his clothes back on, and tore into the front area, Ashiya and Urushihara following behind. There, they found Suzuno, cooling herself with one of the bathhouse’s rigid hand fans. 
“I will explain why later, but trust me when I say that Chiho is not approaching this lightly. That, at least, I hope you are willing to accept.” 
With Suzuno was Chiho, lying on a wicker seat, her chest heaving up and down underneath her shirt as she caught her breath. Even considering she was straight from the bath, her face was far too reddened. 
“M…Maou…” 
Maou stood there, baffled. Urushihara, next to him, pointed at Chiho’s hand. 
“Dude, don’t blame me if this goes south on us.” 
He looked scornfully at her hand, lain limply on the table. 
“Wait… Ms. Sasaki…” 
Ashiya was just as confused as Maou, his face betraying his utter amazement at the sight. 
There, in her hand, was a shining gold ball of pure holy power. It flickered like a sputtering flame, clearly not under her full control. However, it wasn’t the unreal, otherworldly kind of force she’d wielded at Tokyo Tower—no, this ball of holy light came from the corpus of Chiho herself. 
“I-I…I didn’t want to get in the way, or be a drag on you, or anything…” 
Still fighting for breath, Chiho tried her best to give Maou a smile. 
“But now I can do it, Suzuno… I can run from danger if I need to; I can have you guys help me if I need to. Next…I’ll try…an Idea…” 
That was her limit. Her eyelids slowly fell as her consciousness sank into the world of dreams. 
“Oh, for…” Maou, watching an exhausted but immensely satisfied smile cross Chiho’s face, scratched his head in surrender. “She’s getting way too worried about this. Like, we’re monsters from another world! Why can’t she just let us handle all that crap? We’re the ones who got her caught up in this.” 
Emi chuckled. “Chiho can’t do that. She doesn’t want to run screaming if something happens, so she wanted something she could use to either escape or get help more reliably. It’s almost too touching, isn’t it?” 
She sized up Maou with her eyes, her voice dropping so only he could hear. 
“I bet there were a lot of kids like Chiho among the lives you trampled over on Ente Isla.” 
“……” 
Maou turned around, but Emi had already let the words melt into the air. Now her attention was on Chiho, wiping the sweat beading on her forehead. She was acting amiably enough, but what she just said seemed even more acrid and hard-hitting than anything that came before it. 
“… You’re making no sense to me, either.” 
The words rolled out of Maou’s mouth and into nobody’s ears.