New Clothes, Old Friends (7)

Dorothy, who'd sworn she'd rather die than work a field, was now wearing her pointed hat like a straw sunhat. She'd swapped her usual shoes for rubber boots and was chugging bottled water.

Gulp, gulp.

"Ahhh. That's the stuff. So refreshing."

"Who even are you..."

"Kyarr. Why are you looking at me like that, Dongha? Is my sweat-slicked neckline that sexy?"

That line made yesterday's kimchi stew threaten to come back up, so instead of answering I stuffed a cabbage worm down the back of Dorothy's collar. She let out the same death-cry Toruk Makto made when he got machine-gunned, flopping around like a fish. Looked a lot like me rolling across the floor after taking a lightning spell, back in the day.

"Hahh. Dongha. How long must we keep digging this hole?"

I'd put Yuria, Rebecca, and Nine on shovel duty. Unlike Rebecca and Nine, whose bodies were so rigid they dug without a word of complaint, beads of sweat dotted Yuria's forehead.

"Dig it deep. We've got something important to do."

"Here, girls. Eat up."

The Demon King had boiled some precious eggs and brought them over — using the soft-boil method I'd taught her.

"Be grateful."

Still clinging to aristocratic eating habits, perhaps — a vulgar food like a boiled egg wouldn't even touch their li—

"That one is mine!"

"I grabbed it first! Let go! You can't even shovel properly!"

"Hey! I planted the most today! This morning while you two were dead asleep, I even cleaned the kitchen with the Demon King!"

...Yeah, no. That didn't happen.

This is why people need to go hungry at least once.

All that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠remained were a bunch of starving little bastards fighting over eggs that looked identical to the naked eye, comparing sizes.

"Aargh!"

Rebecca, who'd been waiting for her moment at the scene of the dispute, snatched the contested egg and popped it into her mouth shell and all. The others grabbed their farm tools and started ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bringing them down on her. The whole scene looked like a goblin mob.

Clang, clang.

Ting, ting.

What the fuck. They're hitting a person with blades and I'm hearing metal. She was definitely a robot in a past life.

"Rebecca! What is the meaning of this! Have you given up on being human?!"

"She hasn't swallowed it yet. Nine, choke her, hurry!"

"Urgh, her neck... it's like a wooden log."

It was like watching Frodo Baggins and Sméagol fighting over the Ring. Pathetic beyond words.

These girls, if they couldn't torment anyone — if they had no power — they'd just be ordinary idiots.

They became villains because they had strength.

Otherwise they would've lived as ordinary women.

"You shouldn't fight. I'll give you my egg."

The one who mediated the fools who'd been squabbling over eggs this whole time was the Demon King.

She likes boiled eggs herself...

Watching the party members over the past few days, I'd noticed something.

I still couldn't believe it.

It really made no sense.

They no longer held the hostility toward her that they'd had when they first fought the Demon King.

Well, I suppose that was inevitable.

I'd tried to convince the Demon King several times that they were too dangerous, that she should kill them now. The four of them had watched those conversations with faces full of tension.

But the Demon King didn't do it. She chose to spare the idiots.

Which meant that from their perspective, she was practically their savior.

They'd come to kill her, and she'd forgiven them. They'd gotten themselves trapped through their own stupidity, and she was providing room and board. Cooking them delicious meals, even giving them snacks like this.

If I was the whip that kept beating them down, the Demon King had become their carrot.

So it wasn't that strange for their blind hatred toward her to have faded a little...

Even so, I never expected these psychopaths to actually mellow out. To reform them you'd need someone like Rohan Edwork — that missionary famous as a living saint.

The Demon King really must have some strange magic that extracts the evil from people and restores their innocence.

You'd think they might refuse the eggs the Demon King was offering.

Something like, It's okay. You should eat too, Demon King.

But no.

"Move! The Demon King's egg is mine!"

"Nine, has something gone wrong with your head? Get your hand off that!"

That didn't happen. They just beat the hell out of each other in a brawl, noses bleeding.

"Dongha. Lend me a hand, if you would. I shall climb out now."

Yuria said this from inside the hole she'd been digging.

"No need. That's the hole I had you dig to bury you in."

"?"

Yuria and Nine's eyes went round. Rebecca didn't get it.

"...What...?"

"I'm going to bury you alive."

Then I scooped up some dirt with the shovel and tossed it on Yuria, and the reaction exceeded all expectations.

"D-don't do this! This is rather much, is it not?!"

"Save me, Dongha!"

"...I'm kidding. Calm down."

I'll give credit where it's due. The workload had lightened a bit compared to before they showed up, so things were a little easier.

Right now I was stitching a dinosaur doll that had been piling up. This was the one thing I couldn't pawn off on the others. I knew how atrocious their handiwork was.

"Oh my!"

I looked back to find Dorothy standing there watching me sew the doll. Her purple hair was damp. The Demon King must have washed it for her just now.

"What are all these?"

When I didn't answer, Dorothy asked again.

"...What is this..."

"Can't you tell by looking? It's a doll."

I wasn't going to get angry at them again and make the Demon King feel sorry. But separately from that, the trauma still lingering in me made it hard to say anything kind to them.

"...Dongha. Could you give me just one of these dolls?"

Dorothy, who burned people without a second thought and turned them into pillars of ice — and yet she had this bizarre habit of being unable to fall asleep unless she was hugging something. That's why she still slept clutching a cabbage.

Looking at the dinosaur doll taking shape in my hands, an old memory floated to the surface.

I didn't want to give it to her anymore.

"It's for sale, so I can't. Get lost."

"...Could I borrow it? I'll use it carefully and give it ba—"

"I said no. Go away."

Dorothy didn't push any further. She just drifted away, unable to take her eyes off the dinosaur doll. In the old days she would've attacked with magic to snatch it.

Click, click.

Tak, tak! Tak!

I was playing Iron Fist with the Demon King. We'd been so busy the past few days we hadn't gamed at all.

"Kihihit."

The Demon King had been practicing a new character. A kick-heavy fighter nicknamed Beer Bottle. She'd been doing well against the computer, so she'd brought it out to bury me immediately.

...Like that'll work.

Beer Bottle was a noob-stomper character. Meaning it only really shone when you were humiliating players way below your skill level. The Demon King's devil character or her ogre were actually trickier. So I was taking a few hits on purpose.

...But the really annoying part was something else.

...Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Dongha. Why did you just eat that high kick? How disappointing. Couldn't you have ducked under it?"

"Ugh, so frustrating. Dongha got hit in the stomach again."

"You're genuinely terrible. My house cat could play better than that."

"Dongha. Just one match. Huh? Just one."

Crazy bitches.

I let them finish work, eat, and wash up — they should've gone inside and gone to sleep.

"Why don't you get the hell back to your place? You all wanna die?"

I pulled out the beam robot I'd tucked in my waistband, ready to fire if needed, and they all averted their eyes.

"...Ah, Dongha! This is the last round!"

"I got it, so just get out..."

Set score, one to one.

...Of course I had no intention of throwing the match to the Demon King.

Tak, tak.

The moment it started, Beer Bottle's kicks poured in, and my leopard-masked character was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠getting pulverized. HP dropped by half in an instant.

"Switch! What are you doing!"

"How frustrating!"

Nine and Yuria, who knew nothing, looked at the health bar and squawked.

No need to switch. One grab combo and it'd be over anyway.

Grab.

"Aah!"

Cornered, I waited for an opening and landed the leopard character's chain throws. I slammed the Demon King's Beer Bottle — whose HP had been completely full — into the ground over and over. Beer Bottle's packed health bar vanished like a lie.

"...Uuut."

The Demon King set down the gamepad and went limp. Even Beer Bottle, which she'd secretly trained at dawn, had been defeated. Instantly, a noisy cheer erupted.

"Ooooh! Baek Dongha! What the hell? You're insanely good!"

"Hahaha! To think you'd turn it around! A magnificent reverse!"

"Dongha! How did you do that!? I had no idea you had this kind of talent!"

"Please, just one match. Huh? Just one!"

"Pleathe get outh already..."

Since the Demon King was watching, I told them to leave in the gentlest tone I could manage.

But the four, seeing Iron Fist for the first time in their lives, were more excited than me and the Demon King who were actually playing.

They even started surrounding the defeated Demon King and dishing out advice.

"Demon King. Thy weakness appears to be grab techniques. Why dost thou insist on stepping into the enemy's attack range?"

"...Hey, weakness? ...I see."

"That's not all. You keep eating a hit every time you switch, and those little mistakes all added up to the loss."

"...Uuuut. I'm sorry."

"The more advantageous the situation, the more you need to stay focused until the end. That's when the opponent is most likely to show their fangs. I'm only saying this for your own good, Demon King. You understand, right?"

"...Yeah, I-I'll keep that in mind. I'll write it in my Iron Fist notebook."

What a spectacle.

These bastards have all lost their minds.

They were already at the stage of saying this kind of cheeky shit to the Demon King? I'd been too scared to even talk back for months. Their guts alone were worthy of a hero party, I'd give them that.

...And besides.

These armchair Iron Fist bitches. If you actually put a gamepad in their hands, they'd get utterly wrecked by the Demon King without landing a single hit.

Well, whatever. Better to let them each say their piece and send them back quickly. Not worth commenting.

But then Rebecca said something I couldn't just let slide.

"The Demon King's trash. I could wreck her too."

"Pinky, get over here and sit down. You're dead."

Rebecca, who'd been endlessly shouting for just one match from the sidelines, excitedly took the gamepad.

And of course, the Demon King sliced her into tiny pieces in an instant.

The Demon King's skill would rank in the top one percent of Earth's players. On top of that, she always went all-out and demolished whoever she faced.

There was no way a moron newbie could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠win.

"...Crrrk."

I'd been aiming the kill-beam robot at Rebecca's temple for a while now. In case she got so pissed she clenched her jaw and tried to crush the gamepad — I'd execute her on the spot.

When the game ended, the idiot spectators' jeers poured onto the defeated Rebecca, as expected.

"Skill so poor it was hard to watch with the naked eye. I am fortunate not to be of the same race as thee. Nine and Dorothy have my pity."

"Rebecca. Can I ask you a favor? Could you gouge out my eyeballs? I think they all rotted away watching that duel just now."

"Rebecca? I'd like you to leave the party once this journey is over. After watching that duel, I'm certain. I no longer want to leave the vanguard to you. Thank you for all your hard work."

She was already trembling from getting wrecked without even being able to reach out, and when high-level character assassination was piled on top, even Rebecca the strongest tank had her damage meter explode.

"Hey! What are you so good at, huh? Wanna go?!"

Her face went bright red and she huffed like a bull.

"Wha' are you tho good a'? Wanna go?"

"Could our house cat play instead of me? I think even then we'd win."

The three started surrounding Rebecca and teasing her. Meanwhile they inched toward the gamepad.

"Hey. Go? Go where? You morons. All of you, get out."

I treat them a little nicely and now they want to play games too. Pull them out of the water and they demand your bundle — that kind of deal. More than anything, I had not the slightest intention of hanging out and playing with these people.

But their tension ramped up among themselves and they started chattering.

"Want to make a bet? Forehead flicks? A slap to the face?"

"Excellent. I've been wanting to smack Rebecca around a bit lately anyway."

"How about jumping from here? That might be about the right stakes for Rebecca to actually die."

"Nnggh, bring it on! I'll show you how hard this actually is!"

"Yeah! Let's do it. Me and my friend too."

The idiots were facing each other deciding on the wager, and at some point the Demon King had slipped in among them.

"...Ah, no, this is..."

"...Why? I can't play?"

The Demon King, sensing she was about to be left out. For the first time in a while, a black aura flowed from her core. Nostalgic.

"...We... we should all play together."

The four of them went pale. Only now did they sense they were fucked. But at this point they couldn't leave out the Demon King, who was looking forward to it.

"It's a forehead-flick tournament. Kihihit."

"Dongha, I did a lot of work today so I'm tired. I'll just head back to the cabbage pa—"

Nine, with her sharp instincts, caught the scent of death and looked for an escape.

"Where do you think you're going. You've got a game to play with my friend."

I'd been trying to send the party members back quickly, but I stopped.

I was so good at the game that I'd always beaten the Demon King and never gotten hit. I wanted to see a parallel universe where someone lost and took a forehead flick.

The result was that only Rebecca got beaten to death all day.

...What even was all that.

To think a day would come when I'd play games and hang out with those people.

...Hang out?

The feeling was strange.

It definitely wasn't a good feeling.

Thud, thud.

I finished cleaning up and walked toward my room. On the way I passed the cabbageCabbage Patch. I tried not to look, but a voice reached me.

"Dongha. Good night."

It was Dorothy, who slept relatively close to the entrance.

I was going to ignore her and walk past. I wasn't even going to look, but my eyes went to the doll Dorothy was hugging as she lay there.

"...What's that?"

It was the dinosaur doll Dorothy had asked me for earlier.

"Ah, I didn't steal this."

"...Then?"

"...I received it. From the Demon King. I-I didn't ask for it first."

"...Really? You didn't threaten her for it?"

"I-it's true! She said she knows the feeling of wanting to hug something to sleep, so she gave it to me."

"...She said, 'You can't have mine... but I'll give you this dinosaur doll.'"

".....Yeah, okay."

If the Demon King gave it to her, well, nothing I could do.

Thud, thud.

I passed Dorothy and returned to the room. The Demon King was lying on her stomach, completely absorbed in the kangaroo in the Zoo book.

Thump.

The moment I lay down on the bed, the Demon King popped out of the book and hugged me.

"Kihihit. Mine's here."

"...Huh?"

"Mmmm, never mind. Hehe."