The Fast Feet of the West
A blade whispered as it slid free.
"You got lucky."
The masked man lowered the sword he had just driven forward, his voice as cold as a sheet of ice.
"...You just stabbed right here, you idiot."
The Demon King answered while fussing over the Paper Crane that had caught the blade, turning it this way and that with worried eyes, checking for even the faintest tear.
Of all the places to stab, he had to pick that one.
Layered in every buff imaginable, the Paper Crane was harder than even the legendary Kriemhild Shield. The man's lightning-fast strike hadn't left so much as a scratch.
Crack. Crack.
The man rolled his shoulders. His prized ambush had failed, and still he showed not the slightest hint of panic.
"I struck, drawn by that immense magical power — but never did I imagine you would look like this."
"Look like this? How rude. What's wrong with how I look? What's the problem?"
Utterly failing to read the room, the Demon King tidied her hair in the mirror's reflection.
"Quite skilled at playing human, I see. But at your core, are you not a filthy demon that lusts after blood and viscera? How fluently that sewer of a mouth of yours speaks the tongue of men."
The man's thoughts weren't all that different from what I had believed all this time.
But then...
Why did I feel so strangely pissed off?
"Hey. You there."
He meant me. All that swagger — probably some big shot from the outside world.
"What?"
"You're not cooperating with the demon, are you? Holding her heart for her. Sharing your life force. That sort of thing."
"No."
"If there's anything that might hold me back once the fighting starts, confess it now."
"There's nothing, you piece of shit."
"...What?"
The man's sharp gaze, which hadn't left the Demon King for a second, snapped toward me.
"What did you just say?"
"Man, that tone of yours is seriously annoying. You little shit. You came here to fight, so why all the extra talk?"
This guy was strong. But probably not stronger than Nine. And there was no way in hell he was stronger than the Demon King. That was a veteran Pokédex analysis, so it was pretty much accurate.
"...This one... has his soul already been tainted...? Tch."
The man slid his sword back — and then he was gone.
He lunged at me like a bolt of lightning.
"Don't. Why are you fighting?"
The Demon King pinched the guy's blade between her thumb and forefinger. The sword stopped dead, right in front of my Adam's apple.
"Are you with her?"
"We're partners. Hehehe."
We're not partners. Don't drag me into this, you little—
Still holding the sword, the Demon King beamed as she answered. I had thought I was dead — my balls had shriveled up into nothing — but the Demon King had saved me. Was that what this was? Her saving me?
"I am Bisang. Does the name 'Fast Feet of the West' mean anything to you?"
"Nope. More importantly, don't step on the carpet."
The Demon King wouldn't have a clue, but I had heard of him.
Bisang.
They said there was a human who had outrun the Swift Demon Zephyros. He was definitely a speed-type specialist.
Strength or magic, maybe not... but speed? Maybe he actually had a shot?
He was an extremely punchable bastard, but if he could beat the crap out of the Demon King, that was a different story. I could always apologize for the cursing later.
"Very well."
With that, the man vanished — just as he had on the screen earlier.
The sound of air tearing filled the empty space. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. I could tell he was racing along the walls at incredible speed.
"Hey! Stop that! Footprints on the ceiling are a pain to clean!"
Looking like she might cry, the Demon King rolled her eyes this way and that, tracking the rapidly moving man. From within the whooshing, his low baritone rumbled.
"...Can't keep up, can you. My feet are faster than sound. Fear not. The pain will last but a moment."
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
"Ah, come onnn..."
A single, crisp smack.
Then the world exploded.
I had been chasing afterimages through the air. I looked toward the sound.
It had come from behind the Demon King. There, face-down on the floor, lay the man — out so cold it looked like every kernel in his skull had popped. He had apparently tried to attack from behind and gotten the tables turned spectacularly against him.
"Uh........ uh?"
The masked man passed out on the spot. Mr. Fast Feet Whatever-His-Name-Was was unconscious.
"Ah... damn it... look at these footprints."
The Demon King stared at the filthy walls with a genuinely sad expression.
Called it... you idiot.
"Behind the pillar. Wipe there too."
"...I don' 'emember steppin' there. Maybe yer jus' makin' me clean..."
"Talking back? Want another hit? I won't put your teeth back in."
"Urgh..."
Scrub, scrub.
The man, every last tooth yanked from his mouth and his pronunciation mashed to pulp, was wiping down the walls with a rag. His cheeks were swollen as if a snake had bitten him, his once-handsome face puffed into a steamed bun.
"While you're up on the wall, get rid of those cobwebs."
".....Yesh..."
"That's enough. It's pretty clean now. Come here."
The Demon King beckoned him over. The man, having apparently learned fear, approached her reluctantly in an awkward, hunched shuffle.
"...I-I'm here, but..."
"Come closer. There, there. I won't hit you. I won't hit you."
One by one, she fitted the teeth she had been holding into the man's mouth. Amazingly, each tooth reattached itself as if it had never left.
"I! Told you! Not to! Step on! The carpet! So why! Didn't you! Listen! Huh?"
She put extra force into every shout, jamming a tooth in with each word. The man just trembled, holding his mouth open in a wide, obedient ahh.
"All done."
"....Th-thank you. I'll be going, then."
His conscience had apparently clocked out. The guy who had cursed her out, trashed the house, and thrown the first punch was trying to walk away like nothing had happened.
"Hey. Hold on."
The Demon King's pale hand caught his shoulder.
"What is it....?"
"How much you got."
Time for the Demon King to collect her spoils. She looked like some thug shaking down a passerby on the street.
Well... considering what he did, he was getting off cheap.
Humans attack monsters. They kill them and take loot. The Demon King hadn't attacked first. She had only defended herself against someone trying to kill her. It was an entirely reasonable procedure.
"....Four hundred gold is all I have. I do have a savings account at the bank that's about to mature, though."
"...I'm going to wipe your memory anyway, so that won't work. Just give me the four hundred gold."
The man fumbled out his coin pouch and placed it in the Demon King's pale hand.
".....Can I go now? It's time to feed my cat..."
"Yeah. Before that."
The Demon King pulled a coin tied to a string from her pocket and held it up in front of his face.
"Watch this. Look anywhere else and you're in trouble."
"Yes."
She swung the coin slowly, side to side, and began to speak.
"I forget everything that happened at the Demon King's Castle... forget..."
"I will not invade again... will not..."
"I go straight home without detours... go home..."
"Starting tomorrow, I become a good ninja... a good ninja..."
⟨ Memory Wipe ⟩
...So that's how it works...
The memory manipulation of an Akashic Master — of which there were supposedly only three on the entire continent — proceeded in an extremely familiar fashion.
The color drained from the man's eyes. He turned around and trudged out.
She was seriously, ridiculously strong. I couldn't even get a read on her. How was she that powerful?
Honestly, when I first arrived on the 100th floor, I had thought it was all over. The monsters on the 99th floor had been strong, sure, but not enough to give our party any real trouble.
I had thought I was finally going to get rewarded for all that hell and go home.
The gap is just too big.
She wasn't even comparable to the boss of the 99th floor. Where did that strength even come from? Had she been this strong from the very beginning?
Maybe I...
A chilling thought crept in. What if I never got out of here for the rest of my life — just grew old and died in this place?
Assuming, of course, that I dodged every last one of the Demon King's punishment flicks until then.
Whether that happens or not.
My stance right now was already decided.
"You okay?"
I walked over and asked her. Of course she was fine, but still.
"Hehe, yeah! You cheered for me again?"
That was the lie I had told last time, when the Black Dragon Guild had invaded.
"Yeah."
"....Ehehehe..."
The Demon King cupped her cheeks in her palms, looking soaked in joy. The same palms that had just yanked out every tooth in a grown man's mouth.
".....Hey."
She half-lidded her eyes, wearing that uniquely expectant expression of hers.
"Earlier, when that guy was trash-talking me."
Right. That had happened.
"Back then. Thanks for getting mad for me."
...What?
I had just felt pissed off for some reason. It wasn't because he had insulted her.
Give me a break. It's not even summer — did the heat fry my brain...?
It was absurd nonsense. But there was no reason I couldn't play along.
"Well... of course. We're..."
"We're...?"
The Demon King latched onto the trailing end of my mumbled words and would not let go. Then she bolted right up to me and shoved her face into mine.
"We're...? We're what?"
She repeated herself in a flushed, excited voice. Her red eyes sparkled, and her pale pink lips rounded into a little O, waiting for whatever answer she was hoping for.
When she said the same words over and over, the correct answer was already set like a formula. All I had to do was give her the answer she wanted.
"We're partners, aren't we."
...?
Was it just my imagination? I had copied the answer she had given herself earlier, so it should have been correct.
Somehow, the expectation packed into her expression seemed to drain away a little. But then she broke into a wide smile.
"That's right. We're partners. Ehehe..."
.....Bullshit.
"Heheh. Still, thanks to Fast Whatever-His-Name... we got the cobwebs cleaned."
She said it with a sly grin, her cheeks still flushed.
"You could've just cleaned them yourself."
"...I hate bugs, you know."
...That so did not suit her.
"...Me too."
"Huh?"
"I said I hate them too. Bugs."
It was the first time I had told her something I disliked. It could become a weakness if I wasn't careful, so why had I said it?
I don't know. I really don't.
"Hehe. I was gonna make you clean the cobwebs. Guess I won't, then."
"What? For real?"
So if I said I didn't like something, she actually wouldn't force me? Unexpected.
There were plenty of other things I hated besides bugs. Chess. Barrel Roulette. Arm wrestling. All that bullshit. Yeah — might as well say it while I was at it.
"...So if I said I hate games and punishments too, I wouldn't have to do those anymore?"
"You wanna die?"
"No."