The Empty Refrigerator

A peaceful morning of an afternoon.

Into a house packed with nothing but Nolbu's bastards—the greedy, do-nothing brother of the old tale—Heungbu had finally walked in. The slave.

If Sugar hadn't shown up out of nowhere with a dungeon in tow, I had been planning to post a recruitment notice for a slave myself. Anyone hired through a proper posting would, of course, have been paid a wage. Sugar, though, hadn't come because of any notice. She didn't qualify. Surely she'd work just fine on passion pay—labor compensated entirely in enthusiasm.

A cat you adopt from a shop costs money. A cat you pick up off the street? What expense could that possibly involve?

I was turning this over while sitting on the edge of the bed when the Demon God, sprawled on the sofa and staring at her phone, turned her head toward Sugar and spoke.

"I'm hungry."

As if those words were a trigger, Makina—who had been rolling around on my bed—agreed with the Demon God and added a hunger of her own.

"Yeah! And it's dinnertime right now, too."

Makina wasn't looking at anyone in particular the way the Demon God had, but if one of the four people in this room was going to cook, who it would be was already obvious. The Demon God, supreme authority of the household, was never going to cook unless she felt like it. I certainly wasn't about to let a child loose in the kitchen unsupervised, so Makina was out. Being a child myself, I partially qualified for the same exemption, so I was out too.

That left exactly one of the four. And the lowest in rank among them had been Sugar from the start.

So, to drive the last nail in, I looked her straight in the eye and said:

"You heard her. Go make dinner."

The words seemed to run her clean through the heart. Sugar planted her face on the floor and despaired. Her recovery was quick enough, though. Before long she was trudging off toward the kitchen.

"Ragna! Seriously, though, it really suits you!"

"Huh? What does?"

"That hairstyle!"

Ah. So that was what she meant. Even facing straight ahead, no matter which way I rolled my eyes, a swaying lock of hair intruded on some corner of my vision.

How had I, having slipped the Demon God's grasp, ended up in twin tails? To understand that, I had to go back to yesterday.

Then, after Sugar had left the room, the door that had stayed shut all the while opened, and the Sugar who had departed came back.

"Done already?"

"As if I could be. No—before that, how is the refrigerator in a house where people actually live this completely empty?!"

Oh. Right. Delivery, buying something on the way, or eating out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had always been the default, so the refrigerator had never been used as anything but a machine for keeping drinks cold.

Nothing for it.

I pulled a card from my pocket—black, with gold for an accent—and tossed it at Sugar.

"Here. Catch."

"Eek! Wh-what is this?"

"My card. Do the shopping with it, however you like. If there's something you want, buy a reasonable amount."

"I still don't even know my way around here..."

Ah. It hadn't even been two days since Sugar escaped the dungeon and followed me home. There was certainly no way she could have memorized the area already.

What a pain she is.

Once again I reached into my pocket, drew out the phone that had been sleeping peacefully there, and threw it at Sugar.

"Kyaaah!! Please, I'm begging you, stop throwing things!!"

"That's my phone. It has a map built in."

Sugar, staring blankly at the phone and card she had caught in a fluster, felt tears welling at the corners of her eyes and let out a shrill squawk.

"No, I'm asking you to come with me!! Why are you so completely lacking in empathy? You—what kind of person are you!!"

At Sugar's outburst I stared at her in disbelief.

Why would I go grocery shopping with you?

If I tell you to go alone, you go. Since when did we enter an age where a slave won't even bark when her master tells her to bark?

Then again, if that age really arrived, would I also be allowed not to bark when the Demon God told me to?

Might not be so bad.

Of course, that was the opinion of Ragna, slave of the Demon God. The opinion of Ragna, master of Sugar, was another matter entirely. Someone might look at opinions that whip around every time the position does and call them inconsistent. But isn't that simply what humans are? I'm the Incarnation of that Demon God, no less. By that standard, I'd call myself about average.

Anyway. Which meant I needed to make my refusal perfectly clear to that impudent slave.

Sugar was looking at me with pleading eyes. I repaid her with a cold stare, and was just parting my lips to speak when—

"We're going shopping? That sounds fun! I wanna go too!"

Makina butted in out of nowhere, and the situation turned awkward. If I said I wasn't coming, Sugar and Makina would go shopping together...

Sending a foreigner who didn't even know the area, and a child, out together.

The anxiety is ridiculous.

True, even if Sugar was a foreigner, the System's protection translated language automatically. But what good was that? Language getting through didn't change the fact that she was a foreigner who knew absolutely nothing about how Earth worked.

"Haaah. Fine. If Makina's going, I'll go too."

When I said I'd go, having no other choice, Sugar's eyes went wide.

"What's with that look."

A stare like she'd just seen something she was never meant to see. Deeply irritating.

"Um... th-there's a s-saying in the Tower, you know... that when someone doesn't have many days left to live, their personality suddenly changes..."

Haah. I'd only been about to go along because Makina got dragged into it, and this was what I got?! Did she think I was one hit from dead?

"What are you saying to a kid who has more life ahead of her than behind her?"

In the present Great Incarnation Era, the average ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠human lifespan on Earth was about a hundred and fifty. Over on the African Continent, ruled by the God of Life, average lifespan pushed two hundred. In other words, Makina and I—eight-year-old brats—really were infants who had barely lived at all.

And she just asked a baby like that if she was about to die.

Thinking about it again, it was so absurd a dry laugh tugged at my mouth. Leaving that empty-headed idiot and Makina to go shopping by themselves was beyond the pale. Not merely beyond the pale—this was criminal.

"Hey. If you're coming with us, hand the card and the phone back."

On the way out they had flown through the air. On the way back, my card and phone returned politely, placed in my hands.

It was still chilly in February, so I threw on a light coat and headed for the front door. The moment I stepped outside, two children started following me like baby birds chasing their mother. One of them was an actual child. The other was a child only from the neck up.

Wait. Where's a mart around here?

A cold spring wind brushed past me. My whole body went chill, and a cold sweat broke out. It had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠already been several years since the Demon God set me to living in this house.

And I survived every one of those years on delivery and eating out.

When a drink or a snack called to me, I just went to the nearest convenience store. I had never once considered going to an actual mart.

"Makina... do you happen to know where a mart is near the house?"

"Nope!"

They say you can't spit on a smiling face. I told the beaming Makina I understood, then finally drew the almighty grievance machine from my pocket.

I opened the site and searched for marts nearby. Centered on the house where I lived, countless red dots bloomed across the map. Among those red dots, I looked at the one closest to home.

Hana Mart. The closest mart to the house, sitting at the positively respectable distance of fifteen meters.

Ah, fuck.

But the moment I saw that mart, my face twisted.

"It's the other way."