Make a Contract with Me and Become a Magical Girl
Word of Yoanna securing a letter of recommendation reached Dantalion through Noir.
What pleased him most of all was that she had succeeded in befriending the children.
Seated before his mirror, Dantalion accepted the canned coffee Sitri held out and said,
"Isn't she remarkable? A child that outstanding will surely quiet things down on the surface a little."
"Remarkable, yes, but…"
"What is it?"
Sitri could not quite bring herself to agree with him.
Had any being of the surface world ever received this much favoritism?
Other demons meddled in the surface world from time to time, but a Great Demon taking a personal interest was rare.
Frankly, once she started properly wielding the power he had granted her, the surface world would be smashed to—
"Yes, well. It'll be fine."
Why waste worry on something that wasn't even her business?
Sitri answered in a purely professional tone and flopped onto the sofa.
She hadn't lain down to play. It was simply the most efficient posture for using her work tablet.
"At the very least, sit up and work. What will the subordinates think if they see you like that?"
"Won't they think, 'I want to get promoted so I can loaf around and work too'? The desire for promotion will make them work harder, so this is totally lucky-vicky~"
"Lucky… what?"
Faced with a string of incomprehensible words, Dantalion shook his head.
Still, today was a day he could afford to be generous. It was one of the rare holidays when the judges of Hell could rest.
With none of the usual wailing of judges reaching his ears, peace of mind arrived of its own accord.
I set something aside for just such a moment.
He opened a drawer and took out a specially procured tea bag.
It was made from tea leaves cultivated by none other than the Flower Supervisor of the Western Paradise flower fields.
If not in a leisurely moment like this, when else would he get to drink it?
Snap!
He flicked his fingers, and hot water rose in the teacup.
He plopped the tea bag in. The delicate fragrance unique to green tea drifted out sweetly.
Just then, Sitri, still lying down and fiddling with her tablet, shot a hand straight up.
"One for me too, please!"
"…Did you leave any tea leaves with me?"
"In exchange I've been diligently helping with Your Honor's hobbies, haven't I?"
It wasn't a hobby; it was a grand decision made for the sake of the judges—yet even as he thought so, Dantalion prepared a cup of green tea for Sitri.
After confirming that her share vanished through the shadows, he settled back into his chair.
Savoring the green tea's aroma, Dantalion's body went limp like slime.
Having no face is an advantage at times like this.
Appreciating the scent with every inch of his skin made the depth of it extraordinary.
He had enjoyed the fragrance thoroughly and was just about to savor the taste when—
"Pfffft!?"
"……"
Half-reclining, Sitri sprayed green tea like a fountain.
Dantalion looked at the tea-stained sofa and table and felt strength gather in his fingers.
Crrrack.
The precious teacup gifted by the Flower Supervisor cracked slightly.
Steadying himself with a deep breath, Dantalion slowly opened his mouth.
"Sitri, I hope you have a valid reason for soiling the office with precious green tea. If not, it's been a while since your last lesson—"
"H-Heaven wants to see Your Honor for a bit?"
"What?"
Dantalion stared at Sitri as if to ask what nonsense she was spouting.
Those already overworked fellows had free time for a meeting?
Sitri wiped the tea-soaked tablet and held it out to Dantalion.
Clang.
The precious teacup shattered, warm green tea soaking his hand. The blissful holiday was instantly replaced by a meeting.
Once one grew accustomed to Hell, certain things often felt awkward.
A clear sky, a blazing sun, and a cool breeze…
"Lord Dantalion, Chief Justice of Hell. We are truly grateful that you have visited Heaven. I am Erut, your guide for today."
"We are truly grateful that you have visited."
Finally the throng of angels who had rushed over in a group offered their greetings.
No— that last part would have felt awkward even in his human days; it had nothing to do with growing used to Hell.
The angel who looked as if a stone statue were weeping spoke first, and the waiting angels behind him delivered a group greeting while the light of the halos above their heads poured down.
At the bright energy unique to angels, Sitri recoiled in disgust.
"Ugh, not even bald and yet you're pulling off a solar fist of this magnitude."
"Are you aware that is rude?"
"Just because I know, do I have to keep it?"
Normally one learned manners in order to keep them.
Still, Sitri had not been thoughtlessly rude.
The statue-like angel Erut smiled and said to Dantalion,
"Please do not worry. I am well aware that Miss Sitri is only joking."
Angels were, on the whole, generous of heart.
Their work was embracing weary souls; of course their mental fortitude would be rock-solid.
"Even so, I apologize on her behalf."
"It is quite all right. I myself sometimes think the light of the halo is a bit excessive."
After dismissing the other angels, Erut used his authority to enlarge his frame. Transformed into a colossal stone statue, he held out a hand.
"Please climb aboard. I will take you straight to the Council where the Archangel awaits."
Once they stepped onto his palm, Erut set them down upon his own shoulder.
There was even a dedicated passenger seat carved into the shoulder. Plush cushions and a refrigerator embedded in the floor were bonuses.
Carving up one's own body to provide convenience—what sort of behavior was that?
Angels are truly hard to understand.
Yet the convenience gained by carving his body was not wasted.
The cushion felt soft, as if submerged in water.
Discovering the canned coffee he usually enjoyed inside the refrigerator, he drank it. The bitterness of coffee enjoyed while tasting the wind was exquisite.
Sitri, sucking away at a sweet café mocha, murmured with a melting expression,
"Hwaaah… so this is Heaven."
"Hahaha! I am so glad the two of you are satisfied!"
Erut laughed heartily and beat his wings, cutting across Heaven.
Dantalion turned his head and surveyed the surroundings. Buildings erected in the sky captivated his eyes.
Structures of pure white adorned with gold, and peculiar fish(?) swimming through the air.
What drew his gaze most of all was the amusement park built atop the clouds. The happy laughter of people rang widely through Heaven.
If only Hell were filled with laughter as well.
What one heard most in Hell were screams and wails.
Demons laughed readily enough, but the majority of Hell's population were sinners, so it could not be helped.
More than the clear sky and cool air, he envied the happiness and laughter that filled Heaven.
"There— that is the Council where the Archangel is waiting."
Erut pointed to a building as he spoke.
In truth he need not have said anything. The building was so enormous that even if one wished not to know, one could easily tell it was the destination.
Thud!
Arriving at the building's floor, Erut carefully set them down.
Sitri, however, landed with a tumbling roll at running speed.
"I set you down gently— was that really necessary?"
"It looks cool."
"Miss Sitri is correct. It was a truly splendid landing."
Having already reduced his size, Erut clapped in agreement.
Dantalion flicked a perfect knuckle-rap onto the now-cocky Sitri's head.
Thwack!
It was a flawless, irreproachable knuckle-rap.
Ignoring Sitri's squawking protests of pain, he said to Erut,
"I will meet Michael alone."
"Yes. Is there anything else you would have me do?"
"If you don't mind, take that noisy one and show her around Heaven."
Erut nodded and dragged Sitri away by the arm.
She was babbling something or other, but if she had truly disliked it she would have flipped even an angel over.
Is this what they call the body being honest?
Interpreting it in Sitri's fashion, Dantalion stepped into the Council.
Upon visiting the Council, Dantalion went straight to find Michael.
Finding the way was not difficult. He had visited a few times in the old days.
When the young demons caused trouble, it was pure hell.
Young demons often imitated the demonkin of the surface world. Too young to work, they played pranks out of boredom.
Usually it was the ones who bestowed power upon the protagonists of tragedies who fell into this category…
Even thinking back on it now, it was absurd.
Occasionally one of them possessed such talent that they altered the very flow of a world, twisting that world's moral compass and prompting a summons.
They had dumped the morals the angels had so carefully cultivated into the gutter; even with a hundred mouths there would have been nothing to say.
At any rate, perhaps because he had walked while recalling old times—
I've arrived.
He reached Michael's office sooner than expected.
He briefly regarded Michael's nameplate and steeled himself. He had not come because of any wrongdoing, so there was nothing to feel guilty abou—
"Dantalion, come in at once and sit."
"Ahem."
Clearing his throat, Dantalion opened the door and stepped inside.
A piercing gaze stabbed repeatedly at Dantalion's face.
At times like this, having no features was truly convenient. Had he possessed them, his expression would not have been pleasant.
"The fact that I have never summoned you for anything good is truly dogshit."
"For a reunion after so long, isn't the first greeting a bit too harsh?"
"Damn it, the work never decreases— you think fine words are going to come out?"
"Well, no."
The white-haired man in glasses, Archangel Michael, heaved a deep sigh.
Drinking black tea like water, Michael opened his mouth.
"Haa… You already have some idea why I called you, don't you?"
"Is it because I've been playing at being an angel?"
Frankly, there was no other reason to summon him.
There were no demons causing trouble, and the Great Demons were busy managing the hells they preferred while enjoying their hobbies.
"Since you know, we can proceed with the conversation quickly."
Setting down his teacup, Michael rested his chin on his clasped hands.
At the rather solemn atmosphere, Dantalion composed himself.
Surely he intended to warn him not to interfere further in the surface world?
It was a pity, but he was not worried. Considering Yoanna's character and talent, she would never stray down a bad path.
So there was nothing to worry abou—
"What do you think of magical girls?"
"What the hell is this sudden nonsense?"
With the most serious expression in the world, suddenly magical girls? Had overwork finally driven him mad?
Dantalion looked at Michael with genuine concern.