The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 2 by Satoshi Wagahara Page A
Authors: Satoshi Wagahara
Tags: Fiction
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Emi was already positioned for battle.
And when, thanks to this excessive speed on the shadow’s part, her assailant failed to notice the automatic door slowly lumbering open between it and Emi, crashing straight into the clear glass doorand falling down with a
thud
, Emi didn’t move an inch from her fighting stance.
“Nn? Whuzzat?”
The clerk, apparently a native speaker of mole-people language, shot a glance toward Emi.
Beyond the glass door, still lumbering open but now cracked, Emi’s diminutive assailant lay on the ground, dressed in a shiny plastic rain poncho, camouflage pants, and a black ski mask, looking the part of a bank robber who’d just darted out of the barber after a quick haircut to hide his identity.
The weight of his body kept the sensor activated, allowing the door to remain open and the cold air inside to swarm out of the entrance.
Emi tossed her bag on the floor and slinked toward the register to put her purchases down, wanting to be rid of her luggage as soon as possible.
“Sssir, y’all right?”
The clerk leaped out from behind the counter, mistaking this new guest for someone who just had an unfortunate accident. It wasn’t until he approached the door when the assailant’s out-of-place clothing gave him pause.
“Get away!”
From the side, Emi pushed the frozen clerk out of the way. He barreled into the rack of free help-wanted magazines, surprised at this sudden attack, but the effort ultimately saved his life.
A blade of light ripped through the space where the clerk once stood. Emi felt a large, weighted mass fly by, scraping her shoulder, reducing the sleeve of her shirt to ribbons, and worst of all, cleaving the bag with her just-purchased bento cleanly in half.
Emi, checking to ensure the clerk was still on the ground, was quick to react.
“Heavenly Wind Blade!!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Emi launched her holy sword, the Better Half, at the bizarrely dressed burglar who’d just destroyed her sleeve and dinner.
The guided shock wave released by the sword in her right hand slammed against the assailant, sending him flying outside of the store with a loud
crash
.
“Stay in here and call the police!”
She didn’t know if the clerk was listening, but Emi shot out of the store before he could have an opportunity to see her sword, pursuing the plainly suspicious-looking suspect.
But another flash of cleaving light was waiting for her from the side as she exited.
Emi deflected the bolt with a deft turn of her holy sword. The clang of metal against metal echoed. She leaped, attempting to get above the head of this ambusher.
“Heavenly Fleet Feet!!”
Focusing the powers of the Cloth of the Dispeller that lurked within her squarely upon her legs, Emi jumped forward and landed cleanly on the roof of the house across the street.
It was no physical feat any regular person could have managed, but the ski-masked burglar’s eyes never turned away from her.
Emi went through the effort of summoning her holy sword and Cloth without hesitation because she realized that, apart from his crazy garb, this was no ordinary thug she was dealing with.
No mere burglar, for one, would have an enormous scythe in hand.
It was the kind of scythe most people only see on the Death tarot card, one just as tall as the masked assailant wielding it, easily capable of cutting in half three or so human beings in a single swipe.
The stylistically mismatched burglar had nothing like that in hand during that first headlong lunge into the convenience-store door.
Unlike the sort of weapons most would-be felons tend to prefer, this was nothing one could easily hide in a pocket or violin case.
Considering the
clang
of metal when that scythe met Emi’s holy sword, and considering the scythe was solid enough to withstand Emi’s blade in the first place, and considering how this maniac seemingly produced it from thin air, there was no way this fashion disaster was from Earth.
“I
And when, thanks to this excessive speed on the shadow’s part, her assailant failed to notice the automatic door slowly lumbering open between it and Emi, crashing straight into the clear glass doorand falling down with a
thud
, Emi didn’t move an inch from her fighting stance.
“Nn? Whuzzat?”
The clerk, apparently a native speaker of mole-people language, shot a glance toward Emi.
Beyond the glass door, still lumbering open but now cracked, Emi’s diminutive assailant lay on the ground, dressed in a shiny plastic rain poncho, camouflage pants, and a black ski mask, looking the part of a bank robber who’d just darted out of the barber after a quick haircut to hide his identity.
The weight of his body kept the sensor activated, allowing the door to remain open and the cold air inside to swarm out of the entrance.
Emi tossed her bag on the floor and slinked toward the register to put her purchases down, wanting to be rid of her luggage as soon as possible.
“Sssir, y’all right?”
The clerk leaped out from behind the counter, mistaking this new guest for someone who just had an unfortunate accident. It wasn’t until he approached the door when the assailant’s out-of-place clothing gave him pause.
“Get away!”
From the side, Emi pushed the frozen clerk out of the way. He barreled into the rack of free help-wanted magazines, surprised at this sudden attack, but the effort ultimately saved his life.
A blade of light ripped through the space where the clerk once stood. Emi felt a large, weighted mass fly by, scraping her shoulder, reducing the sleeve of her shirt to ribbons, and worst of all, cleaving the bag with her just-purchased bento cleanly in half.
Emi, checking to ensure the clerk was still on the ground, was quick to react.
“Heavenly Wind Blade!!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Emi launched her holy sword, the Better Half, at the bizarrely dressed burglar who’d just destroyed her sleeve and dinner.
The guided shock wave released by the sword in her right hand slammed against the assailant, sending him flying outside of the store with a loud
crash
.
“Stay in here and call the police!”
She didn’t know if the clerk was listening, but Emi shot out of the store before he could have an opportunity to see her sword, pursuing the plainly suspicious-looking suspect.
But another flash of cleaving light was waiting for her from the side as she exited.
Emi deflected the bolt with a deft turn of her holy sword. The clang of metal against metal echoed. She leaped, attempting to get above the head of this ambusher.
“Heavenly Fleet Feet!!”
Focusing the powers of the Cloth of the Dispeller that lurked within her squarely upon her legs, Emi jumped forward and landed cleanly on the roof of the house across the street.
It was no physical feat any regular person could have managed, but the ski-masked burglar’s eyes never turned away from her.
Emi went through the effort of summoning her holy sword and Cloth without hesitation because she realized that, apart from his crazy garb, this was no ordinary thug she was dealing with.
No mere burglar, for one, would have an enormous scythe in hand.
It was the kind of scythe most people only see on the Death tarot card, one just as tall as the masked assailant wielding it, easily capable of cutting in half three or so human beings in a single swipe.
The stylistically mismatched burglar had nothing like that in hand during that first headlong lunge into the convenience-store door.
Unlike the sort of weapons most would-be felons tend to prefer, this was nothing one could easily hide in a pocket or violin case.
Considering the
clang
of metal when that scythe met Emi’s holy sword, and considering the scythe was solid enough to withstand Emi’s blade in the first place, and considering how this maniac seemingly produced it from thin air, there was no way this fashion disaster was from Earth.
“I
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