The Powerless Little Devil -1-
Peaceful Desmont Mansion. Though a hole had been punched through the ceiling and debris lay piled on the floor, the Desmont household was at peace.
Because everyone was satisfied.
"Hoo..."
Something like the mansion collapsing was an everyday occurrence, so everyone nodded calmly.
"Eeeeek..."
From amid the billowing clouds of dust rose the voice of a tiny devil. It was a shrill, venomous tone that announced her wickedness all on its own, and the spiteful little creature let out a wail.
Gulp.
The Desmont family held their breath and focused on the devil's voice. Naturally, I did the same. Even after having seen the shrunken devil once before, I couldn't help the strain on my heart. The impact was strong enough to stop it cold.
Chubby cheeks. A grumpy face. Chunky little legs. Just imagining the scene brought a smile to my lips as I checked for any lingering traces of black magic. It would be trouble if anyone noticed.
Enhances Black Magic Resistance and dispels Black Magic Residue.
I nodded at the black magic residue, which I could no longer clearly sense.
'This should fool anyone who comes sniffing around.'
I was the ultimate black magic filter, after all. That's what made adventures like this possible. From a few experiments, I'd confirmed that the Young Lady's black magic didn't strain the caster.
I hadn't discharged her black mana with attack spells. Even I doubted I could handle that. Just thinking of that massive giant's eye made my shoulders tremble.
The Young Lady's black mana had been vented in a simple way. Maximum consumption, minimum efficiency. If I had to compare it, it was like pulling an armored truck barehanded. Darbarb had taught her a spell in an easy-to-understand way that left no traces: try pulling up the capital's water mains.
Of course, it was impossible. A faint tremor shook the entire capital, but it wasn't a big deal, so we drained her black mana completely.
Now, everyone held their breath, waiting for the Young Lady. No favorites, no grudges.
"...Eeeeek."
They simply awaited the birth of the tiny devil.
"Ricardo."
"Yes, Family Head."
"You said you saw little Olivia 'alone' in the North."
Darbarb emphasized 'alone' with particular force, his face deadly serious as he asked me.
"How was she?"
"..."
Darbab wore an expression more profound than any meeting deciding the family's fate as he swallowed dryly and pressed me.
"Just like when she was little?"
"..."
"From those venomous eyes to the chubby cheeks and personality—all the same?"
I nodded to Darbarb. This matter was important to me too. Knowing how vital advice from someone with experience was, I answered with sincerity.
"She's incomparably cuter."
"...?!"
"Just imagine that tiny body screaming 'air raid alert.' How devilish is that...?"
"..."
Kyle, listening quietly from the side, pulled a prepared lollipop from his pocket and nodded.
"I like it even more..."
Not a normal one in the bunch. I had no idea why this family—producers of the empire's top villainess—had turned out this way, but I'd abandoned such questions thirteen years ago. With a light heart, I nodded.
"It'll be any moment now."
Gulp.
"Hiiiiek..."
The dust clouds parted. Beneath the hole in the ceiling, bathed in brilliant sunlight, the silhouette of a little girl began to emerge before our eyes.
"O...Olivia..."
"Not that I'm expecting much, but little Olivia liked lollipops too."
"Sigh... What are you all even doing? I bought twenty baby dresses just in case."
The Desmont family stood ready with their individual strategies to welcome the shrunken Young Lady.
The tiny devil slowly revealed herself. Clutching her small fists tight, her face pouty, the Young Lady furrowed her brow and spoke flatly.
"Jiphal."
"My goddess."
"Good thing you're still alive."
"Oh my..."
In front of her parents, she spat a vicious curse, then rubbed her eyes and nodded.
"Feed me."
She was awfully arrogant.
*
Thud thud thud thud thud!
"Young Lady."
Thud thud thud thud thud!!
"Please sit still."
Thud thud thud thud!!!
"..."
The regressed Young Lady, whose legs she could move temporarily, was sprinting down the hallway with gusto. For no reason at all.
"Hiiiieeeek!!!"
Because she felt good. With her tiny strides, she dashed from one end of the hall to the other, showing no signs of tiring. Wasn't that the true devil?
After running for a good while, she skidded to a halt and yelled up at me as I stood before her.
"Ricawdo!"
"Yes."
"Let's go out!"
Out, she said. Her tail—if she had one—would be wagging furiously. I smiled faintly, eyeing the yellow flower pinned in her hair.
"Young Lady."
"Yeah."
"What's with the flower?"
"Mom put it there. Said no one would mess with me like this."
"Oh..."
I nodded in admiration at Rosanna's foresight. She knew her daughter too well. Turning the Young Lady—who picked fights with a mere glance—into something like the crazy neighborhood lady you see around town. The matriarch's brilliant plan to avert disaster. As expected of an expert.
Gazing at the Young Lady grinning with the flower in her hair, I let slip a pang of regret. If only she had snot running too, it'd be perfect.
"Hnet... Hnngchoo!"
Perfection. She looked the picture of a fool.
I let out a soft chuckle at her disheveled state and asked her question with a puzzled tone.
"Young Lady."
"Hm."
"Where are the Family Head and Master Kyle off to?"
"They're dead."
She said it while eyeing the Desmont family members collapsed in the parlor.
I have no regrets, even if I die now.
Olivia called me "oppa." Not "big brother," but "obbae"... What a joyful life it was, Mother.
...Sigh, I wanted to dress her up more.
I looked at the serial killer and remarked,
"Another one down today, I see."
The Young Lady nodded, sucking her thumb.
"Yeah. I took care of 'em."
"I'm proud of you, Young Lady."
"I know."
Even if assassination were her profession, she'd make it big. Leaving her curt reply behind, I knelt to meet her eye level and asked,
"Anywhere you want to go?"
"Um..."
Pouting her lips in thought, she shrugged and shook her head.
"Dunno. Just wanna go out."
"How about a stroll, then."
"Yeah."
"I'll grab my wallet. Keep running for growth plate stimulation, Young Lady."
"Running?"
"Yes."
"Eeeeeeeek!"
She bolted down the hall again with vigor. Shrunken or not, her energy was boundless. I worried about trouble outside. She always caused incidents when her tension peaked.
Hoping she'd tire out, I slipped into my room for my wallet and headed out.
Thirty minutes later.
"Jiphal!"
The Young Lady had picked a fight with the neighborhood kids. Her icy glare. The kids' cocky stance, arms crossed. Dragged into an alley by the pack, I scratched my head with a hollow smile.
'Not easy...'
I'd expected her to start it, not the other way around.
It began with a shoulder shove from the local brats. Thwack—the ice cream, bought less than a minute ago, fell from her hand.
Hiiiieeeek!!!! My ice cweam died!
Puhahaha!!!
...Jiphal.
To avenge the fallen ice cream, the Young Lady burned with resolve.
Wanna die?
What?
You smooshed my ice cweam.
So?
I'm gonna kill you too.
Puha! Try it~
No mercy for food, that was our Young Lady. She chased the fleeing kids straight into the alley.
Ricawdo.
Yes.
Chop 'em.
...?
And thus the mess unfolded.
The kids in the alley leered at me and the Young Lady, hands in pockets like they had solid backup.
"What's with the uncle, butting in?!"
"You talking to me?"
"Yeah! Who are you to interfere, uncle? You wanna die too?"
"Heh heh..."
I chuckled dryly, memorizing their faces. I could stomach anything but 'uncle'.
Whoever raised these pretty little things had done a number. Smiling, I nodded.
"This is fun."
"What're you gonna chop?"
"Heh heh."
This world had no proper child protection laws, so why were they so brazen? I eyed the apparent leader and chuckled again.
'Kill 'em?'
Wait and see. I had an expert on hand for this. I stayed silent, watching the Young Lady.
She'd scrapped back in the day. The "Mad Bitch" of the slums, Flame Fist Olivia. Sure, she'd had guards boosting her then, but don't underestimate the battle power of a child-masked Young Lady.
Having once fought her for real myself, I suppressed a rising laugh and wished them peace in the afterlife.
The Young Lady's fists trembled as she growled at the kid.
"Eeeek... Gimme back my ice cream."
"Gimme back? Puhahaha!"
"Stop laughing or die. Unless you wanna coffin."
"Pfft! Know who my dad's?"
"Know who our butler is?"
Falling behind in the dad-off, she glared at me with murderous intent. Signal me, and kids or not, no mercy.
She menaced the kid.
"Ricawdo hits kids too, no mercy for age, just whacks 'em."
"Young Lady?"
"Yeah."
"Am I that bad?"
"No?"
"Right."
She nodded.
"Doesn't hit kids."
"No, he does."
"Then what do I say?"
Consulting openly, she sniffed and asked me.
"Say 'moderately bad person.'"
"Okay."
She nodded, pointed at the kids, and declared,
"He's a moderately bad person."
"So?"
"Hiiik...!"
"Your butler's just a commoner anyway."
"...Jiphal. Ricawdo, bite!"
"Tell that to my dad and you're both dead!"
I shook my head, focusing on the kid's thrilling words. Curious how deep he'd dig his grave.
Chopping could wait. To steer him right, he needed a solid lesson. I held back, awaiting the expert's touch.
Fuming, the Young Lady bowed her head and shrieked,
"Eeeek... D..."
"D?"
"D... Da."
"Puhaha, apologizing now? Too late, crawl at my feet fi—"
"Shut up, you fatherless brat!!!!"
True villainess form. I thumbs-upped her, tears of in my eyes.