The Demon King's Castle Without the Demon King

...I could leave this place?

No. More importantly.

...Am I some kind of pet dog? You little shit.

I got up and wandered out, only to find a note sitting on the table in handwriting so crooked it could belong to no one but the Demon King.

...Jackpot. Either way.

In other words: put in for the day and rest up. There was plenty of food. I could just sleep the whole day away...

Wait—no! What if the barrier was down right now? This was the perfect chance to escape!

...Huh? What's this.

Looking closer, I saw more letters stacked in layers beneath the paper she'd left on top.

I slid the next sheet free and read on.

...Looks like she'd thoroughly prepared her countermeasures.

...Is she lying about there being anything there, just so I won't leave?

I slid the next one free.

...Right. There was no way she would have left without any precautions. Well, whatever. Just getting a whole day off from her games and being able to lounge around was already an incredible luxury. No point getting greedy...

Huh? There's more.

I slid the next sheet free.

...No. Fuck.

She hadn't given me a vacation. She'd dumped all the work on me and left. Enough of it to fill an entire page.

...And what's this about writing a letter.

I'll just pretend I didn't see it.

I was not taking a single step out of my room today. I'd stack the letters back up the way they'd been, and when she came back I'd just say, Oh, sorry. I didn't see them.

...There was another page.

I slid it free.

I flipped it over. Just as she'd said, a circle was drawn on the back.

...!

"...Fuck. I got played."

I was consumed by anguish. This was a battle of wits she was waging — a war of nerves.

A spell that draws a circle when you pick it up? That could be a lie. I'd never heard of magic like that. Meaning she might have drawn the circle on the back beforehand, and staged it to look like it appeared because I'd lifted the letter.

To check... this last sheet.

If I checked whether there was a circle on the back of this last paper I hadn't touched yet, I'd know. Already drawn: she was lying. Not drawn: I could touch it and see if one appeared.

...But.

There was no way to flip the paper without putting a hand on it. The table was locked down by her magic; it wouldn't budge an inch. Blow it over with a breath? Even if a circle was there, I wouldn't be able to tell whether it had come from the air or whether it had been there all along. Pointless.

...Thorough little brat.

How many moves ahead had she built this thing? Real spell or not, the whole setup was designed so I had no choice but to take her at her word.

...Damn it.

If my old party members had been nothing but strong idiots I could slack off around, the Demon King was the type who had brains on top of that, and she got one over on me more often than I liked. Yeah. She was no easy opponent.

In the end, after just a few minutes, I handed my day off right back and had no choice but to head for the cleaning closet.

Laundry first. Normally she even did my clothes. Honestly, there wasn't that much of it. My entire wardrobe was one hoodie the Demon King had given me and a set of pajamas she'd taken off an adventurer. Fabric was scarce ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠around here, so even these wouldn't last if I washed them too often.

...Just pajamas.

The Demon King's laundry was a pair of pajamas with a blue elephant on them — probably from some transmigrated Earthling — and a hooded pajama set with a devil-horn cap attached. Could she possibly own a more useless hat?

Obviously there was no washing machine, so it was all hand-washing. Wait — was that obvious? Thanks to people from Earth there were game consoles and a TV in this castle, so a washing machine wouldn't have been that strange either.

The steel mace she used as a laundry paddle was far too heavy, so I washed everything by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hand. The long-overdue laundry dredged up old memories.

"Hey, Dorothy. What are you doing right now?"

"I'm spilling stew on my clothes."

"Wrong question. Why are you doing that?"

"So I can get them filthy before I change, to make it harder for you to wash, Dongha. You'll wash them nice and clean, won't you?"

"I sincerely hope you catch hemoptysis and cough blood until you die."

Grr! That fucking bitch!

Compared to Dorothy, the Demon King — who did the laundry every time without even being asked — was an angel. Maybe it was the anger putting extra force into my wrists. Either way, the laundry was done in no time.

I moved on to the kitchen. She kept the place so tidy on a regular basis that there was hardly anything to touch. But I'd already started, so I wiped out every last bit of dust from the corners and scrubbed all the way down to the bottoms of the utensil drawers.

...Worn traces of age everywhere.

The dishes she treasured. In truth, they weren't things she'd chosen — they were byproducts of adventurers attacking her. That was why she got so happy whenever an adventurer showed up carrying even a spoon or a fork.

...She's resourceful, I'll give her that.

Whether she'd always been like that, or whether this isolation had made her that way, I couldn't say. But that personality was what kept this life running, that much was true. I was pretty handy and domestic for a guy, but I couldn't hold a candle to her.

Huh?

The mayonnaise lid she'd lost a while back had fallen into a gap in the shelf. Scratch the resourceful part. She hadn't even looked properly.

...She would've been so happy if it'd been right here the whole time.

Even in the middle of chess she'd make a teary face and go, My liiid... Should I give it to her when she gets back? No. No. I'd hold onto it for now. It might come in handy as a bargaining chip.

I left the kitchen polished to a gleam slick enough to send an octopus sliding, then headed for the cabbage patch.

The billiard-ball-sized sun beat down hot enough to make me sweat. Of course this world had no boilers, so winters were brutally cold — lying here and sunbathing would be an absolute...

...Have I lost my mind?

Without realizing it, I'd started assuming I'd still be here come winter. The odds of that were high enough, sure, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I needed to keep my head on straight. Baek Dongha. This is not where you belong.

Cabbage worms showed up here and there, and I picked them off as I went. Every time, I could see the Demon King's face, startled out of her wits.

"This is bad! There's a cabbage worm!"

Apparently being forced to catch them because she'd shoved me into it had given me a bit of an immunity.

Oh. A king cabbage.

I found one well outside any reasonable size. It had to be as big as two of her small heads put together.

"Woooooow!"

I could see her lifting a cabbage bigger than her own head over it and spinning in circles.

Not getting to see that dumb reaction was a little disappointing.

I pushed the king cabbage I'd just pulled back into the soil. Having one more thing to put her in a good mood would help me down the line... I'd just let her harvest it herself.

I came back dripping sweat from field work... and now I was doing field work again.

A cheerful chime rang out.

That's it!

The King Potatoes were having a bumper crop like I'd never seen, and my shoulders started bouncing on their own. Three or four times the usual yield, at least.

Have I actually gotten serious about this pixel game...?

The potato-serf life had gone on so long even my brain had gone simple. She was going to take all these potatoes anyway, but I couldn't deny I was happy. Feeling a little sheepish, I just kept hoeing.

Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.

A longer, brighter chime sang out — one I'd never heard before.

Wait... what's that? I've never heard that sound effect. Don't tell me?

"....... W-wooooah!"

It was the first time I'd ever seen one in person. She'd told me about it before — a Golden Potato that appeared in this field at abysmal odds. Worth two hundred King Potatoes, she'd said. After hundreds of thousands — no, millions — of hoe strikes, I'd finally dug one up.

I was so happy I started bouncing the way the Demon King did. A phantom of her appeared in front of me, bouncing right along.

...Nah. It only drops when we play together.

"Hah."

A sigh came from nowhere, and my excitement crashed straight back to earth.

...What am I doing. By myself.

That was it for potatoes today. And the promise to build her a city on Mars had just gotten moved up a bit. Other than that, it didn't mean anything.

After that I tore through the chili seedlings and the egg collecting. It was simple labor my hands already knew, and it didn't steal much time.

Every chore finished... and the hardest one was still left. I sat down at the table with paper and a pen.

A letter, of all things...

There wasn't a more sadistic senior officer in existence than someone who'd demand a thing like this.

I read back over what I'd just written.

I crumpled the thing into a ball and tossed it. If I showed her a piece of garbage like that...

A gunshot rang through my imagination.

...Hah.

What the hell was I even supposed to write? It wasn't like I had anything to thank her for. Hell, I'd barely ever written a letter to anyone in my life.

I flopped onto my back.

...I should at least praise the games we always play, right? And I should report on everything I finished today...

Lying there, one worry led to the next, chasing itself in circles.

...Hm.

...What is this feeling.

The emotion that had been creeping up on me for a while now was hard to name.

Every single day, all I'd done was scheme to get away from her.

The Demon King's Castle, empty of anyone else, was far too quiet.

I closed my eyes, trying to spit out some stupid thought and be done with it, but it wouldn't come. For some reason, the ridiculous wish that the Demon King would hurry back.

...Might as well finish the letter.

"Having fun?"

My eyes snapped open at the familiar voice.

The Demon King's face. Crimson eyes, the teardrop beauty mark, the wide mouth, black hair tied off to one side. Put it all together, and the feeling it spoke was unmistakable: she was glad to see me.

"...You're back."

"You did everything I told you to, right?"

"....The letter's not done yet."

At that, a disappointed look crossed her face.

"Pfft."

"...Huh? Why are you laughing?"

That face. I'd seen it before, and before that. The familiar sense of danger that always came off that razor-thin expression — for some reason, it made me laugh.

"It's nothing. Sorry. I'll write it now. Oh, and I dug up a Golden Potato today."

"Whaaat!? For real?"

She'd been looking down at me; now her eyes went round and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Then she stood up and started bouncing. Yeah. This reaction.

"That's amazing! I'll make you something delicious right now!"

"Sure. And the mayonnaise lid too..."

No. Bad idea. My mood had lifted and I'd almost wasted one of my trump cards without thinking. Who knew what would happen tomorrow, or the day after.

"Let's go to the kitchen!"

"Yeah."

Our footsteps echoed down the hall — mine, then the lighter patter of hers.

"Hey. You know..."

The Demon King, walking ahead, turned back to ask.

"Hm?"

"You were lonely without me today, right?"

Ah.

The feeling I'd been having. I could put a name to it now.

It was probably just a delusion — the kind you get when you've gotten too used to being locked up. That had to be it.

But whatever the reason, the answer to her question was—

A blank look crossed her face for a moment, then she yanked me into a hug. With her arms wrapped around my neck, she grinned, bright and bashful.

"Me too. I did too."