Cleaning Out the Warehouse (1)

The Demon King's castle had no shortage of locked doors. I'd been curious about what lay behind them from time to time, but I'd never gone out of my way to pry them open. Once, when she seemed to be in a good mood, I'd asked her outright.

"What's that room for?"

"...D-don't know? Me. It's just a locked room, or whatever."

The Demon King stared off at a mountain that wasn't even there, awkwardly playing dumb.

A locked door means don't look inside. I've always been the type to leave well enough alone, so I didn't go digging up whatever she was trying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to hide. For all I knew, she was a deranged serial killer collecting adventurers' spines. If she ever showed me that kind of dirty laundry...

BANG!

...Better not think about it.

And besides, I didn't particularly want to see the pure-evil underside of the Demon King. It was the same feeling as not wanting to watch a kindergartener burn ants with a magnifying glass.

Over the meal, the Demon King stroked the Paper Crane, stacking buff after buff on it the way she always did.

"We've gotta clean out the warehouse today. Dimension Wall. Gaia's Blessing."

A pair of low hums answered her — ziiing, ziiing.

"Warehouse?"

"Yeah. You know the red door? The one at the end of the hall."

A dry swallow went down my throat of its own accord. So one of the sealed doors was finally going to open.

Please, please don't let there be balloons made of human skin or bone-and-tooth necklaces in there.

"So you, you'd better eat up."

The Demon King picked every last carrot out of her own bowl and dumped a mountain of them onto mine.

"If you keep being such a picky eater, it's not good for your hea—"

I started to say something, then the image of her healthy back as she diced carrots with a greatsword taller than she was floated up, and I shut my mouth. No joke — in the two months I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spent with her, I'd eaten enough carrots to wipe out a whole field. My once-pale skin had even taken on a faintly reddish tinge.

"Ah. I gave you the carrots, so I'm taking this."

In a dogshit unfair trade, she speared the three pieces of marinated meat I'd been carefully tearing into and saving. Before I could even get a word out, the Demon King had already popped them into her greedy little mouth.

"Urgh..."

The hand gripping my spoon, buried under the pile of carrots, trembled faintly. I wanted nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more than to punish that pretty little head of hers with the business end of my spoon, but I left it at imagination. I'm a patient man, after all.

"Mmm, nom nom. Why's your face like that?"

That demon husk of a girl wearing a human face asked, savoring the meat juices flooding her mouth.

"Nothing. Just watching you eat fills me up."

Whether my guts had grown again or I'd just gotten to know her a little better, these days I had enough breathing room to actually complain about petty stuff like this.

After that unfair breakfast, we arrived at the red door. The Demon King, walking ahead, looked back at me.

"Heheheh. Once we're inside, you can't just go touching everything and stomping around just because you're excited, okay?"

There's no chance of that.

The Demon King unlocked the door and stepped into the darkness. Only a pale hand reached back out, beckoning me to follow.

I pushed myself into the darkness that yawned open like a gaping maw. The stagnant chill welcomed me from head to toe.

The moment she pulled back the window curtains, the pitch-black room took shape.

"Urgh... ugh!"

I barely managed to hold back the thick wave of nausea that surged up my throat. Like a praying mantis sensing a threat, I couldn't stop my eyes from darting in every direction. No matter where I looked, the room was thick with the stench of death.

What in the world was this. This vision of hell.

"Nice, right? Nice, right? But even you — if you just grab stuff from here, I'll get mad. Heheh."

This place.

This place, packed wall to wall with countless games on display. The chessboard we'd played before was here. So were the Barrel Roulette, and Langplgank.

"Hehe. You like it that much? You've gone completely blank. Calm down. Calm down. From now on, you and I are gonna play together forever."

The Demon King's last words echoed through my head. Having peered into the bottom of the abyss, I blacked out from a dizziness of sheer terror.

Hmm-hmm~ hmm-hmm~

"Ugh..."

I opened my eyes to a familiar humming and found myself still in the Demon King's game warehouse. With her back to me, she was wiping something down with a cloth.

"...What are you doing?"

I pushed myself up off the floor and spoke to her.

As always, the Demon King's energy shot through the roof the moment a game was nearby. Beaming, she held out whatever she'd been polishing.

"Tada! Guess what this is?"

...A crocodile. A crocodile toy.

I'd seen this back on Earth. A game where you take turns pressing the crocodile's teeth one by one. Press the penalty tooth, and the jaws snap shut, delivering a little bit of pain.

"Wanna try this?"

I didn't even need to look. She'd been pressing those teeth by herself this whole time, hadn't she.

Sure, why not... something like this is fine.

If this was the kind of game we'd be playing, I didn't mind. No — I actually wanted to play with her. Picturing the Demon King clicking away at a crocodile all by herself made my chest ache a little.

"Then I'll go first."

"No. Let's do it fair — rock-paper-scissors."

"It's fine, it's fine! I suggested it, so I'll press first!"

Fired up, the Demon King jammed her index finger down on one of the crocodile's teeth.

The jaws slammed shut with a vicious crack.

"Ow!"

The Demon King — whose luck was so wretched it would have cried at being called anything but the worst — hit the penalty on the very first tooth. She yanked her hand back from the sting, a red mark blooming on her fingertip.

"Ow ow ow. It huuurts... slurp..."

The Demon King stuck her bitten finger in her mouth and sucked on it. The sight was somehow... cute.

"Haha. Unlucky. Then it's my tur—"

Wait. Hold the fuck on.

Excuse me. What did you just say? It hurts? Your finger?

My survival instinct, which had long since reached veteran territory, blared an alarm. The rare sight of her looking fragile had blocked my vision — and now it snapped wide open.

This was no ordinary crocodile toy.

"...What the hell did you do to this crocodile?"

"Slurp. It didn't hurt at all when it bit me, so I put the Blessing of Severance and Shavnak's Fangs on it. A game's only fun if it hurts, right?"

Crazy bitch.

A toy that could leave a mark on that woman's body? I almost lost a fucking finger joint. Play with a magic tool like this? Play my ass.

"Let's do this next time. Next time."

"What? I get bitten and that's it? Why are we stopping? You don't think this is fun?"

"Aaaah, get that away from me!"

She shoved the crocodile toy that had just bitten her right in my face. I freaked out and fell over backward. How was this any different from a crocodile lunging out of the Nile onto the riverbank?

The Demon King pulled her sucked-on finger out of her mouth and thrust it at me as she continued.

"No. Even I can't let this one go. One round per finger. Just ten rounds."

Since when have you ever let anything go.

And so, with no warning whatsoever, a life-or-death struggle over fingers was forced upon us. The result...

CRACK!

"Eek?!"

CRACK!

"Kyaa!"

CRACK!

"Ow ow!"

CRACK!

"Eeyah?!"

It was as if the crocodile toy had developed a taste for Demon King fingers — every time she pressed a tooth, the jaws snapped shut like they'd been waiting for it.

The score was 10 to 0. Her total defeat.

In an instant, all ten of the Demon King's fingers had swollen up red and puffy, like a plate of spicy chicken feet. And yet the injustice seemed to hurt more than her hands, because she dropped to the floor and pounded it with her fists. She looked pitiful, but I was also worried those punches might bring the Tower down...

"...Hic... uugh... ah, seriously..."

...Haaah.

She gets absolutely demolished every single game, so why does she keep challenging me every day...

...Maybe God just hates this kid.

...It was a plausible theory. If the goddess of fortune existed, that woman definitely hated the Demon King's guts.

"Give me your hands."

"...It's fine. Just leave them... ah?!"

I snatched up the Demon King's hands as she lay there sniffling on the floor.

Hoo. Hoo.

I didn't know if it actually did anything, but when I was little, having someone blow on a hurt like this always made it better fast. Fortunately, her crumpled, teary face smoothed out almost immediately, so it seemed to have some kind of medical effect.

"Better now?"

"Sniff... yeah. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Your fingers are hurt too. Want to clean the rest next time?"

"No. There's a saying — if you put off today's work until tomorrow, the dog that chased the chicken will come chasing you."

Was there a saying like that.

She hoisted a huge box sitting beside her and handed it to me.

"Hmph. Pick out the ones that look fun and the ones that don't from in here. I collected all of these myself, you know."

A box packed full of all kinds of games.

I was currently engaged in extremely delicate work. If I had to compare it to something, it was like a bomb disposal unit. The games we'd play going forward. If I could pick out every last landmine here, we could spend our days in peace, free of death and violence.

This one's fucked, toss it. This one looks like goddamn trash at a glance, toss it too... Huh? What's this.

Some kind of tin robot. How were you even supposed to play with this? I flipped it over and found a button on the back. Without thinking, I reached out a finger.

You press this, I guess.

I pressed it.

A red ray burst from the robot's eyes with a searing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pzzzzing and slammed into the Demon King's side as she sat beside me, dusting things off.

"Kyaa!"

Sh-shit!!! I'm so fucked!

I scrambled over to the Demon King.

"Hey, hey, are you okay?"

"....You, you! What do you think you're doing?! Who shoots a death ray at their friend?!"

Who's the crazy bitch who puts a death-ray-shooting robot in the warehouse?!

This robot had to be another one of her magical modifications.

But wait — where was that burning smell coming from...

HUH!!!!!

Aside from her pajamas, the Demon King only ever wore one outfit. A black corset dress that managed to be elegant and cute at the same time. A dress that screamed Halloween vampire.

The Demon King's trademark. You didn't even have to look to know she treasured the hell out of it.

Right now, the side of that dress had a burn hole in it. And through it, the Demon King's snow-white side was showing.

She glared at me with the eyes she wore when entering combat stance.

"You... youuu..."

".........Want me to blow on it?"

"Are you insane?"