Kyou kara Ma no Tsuku Jiyuugyou!

A language barrier brings some considerable pressure.

Since I’ve never gone overseas on my own before, this is my first time experiencing that.

“The closest I got to this, would be the first Star Tour…”

Back then, Adalbert had suddenly appeared and turned on my inner translator. Although his methods weren’t very good, you can’t deny that it was convenient.

“Oh, yeah, why don’t we use Adalbert’s move by grabbing my head? I remember that’s houjutsu, right? Since these children are s.h.i.+nzokus, their houryoku should be really good. If so, we’ll just let them grab out heads, then we can communicate!”

“The condition is your soul must retain memories of that language, but these kids’ souls may never have left Seisakoku.”

“Right. Ah—Darn, this is hopeless!”

Even though the dialect does change here and there, but the language I use in s.h.i.+n Makoku also works on human lands, so I always thought there was only one common language in this world, so we don’t even need translators. But then again, it seems that mazoku and human cultures are interconnected, and that doesn’t apply to s.h.i.+nzokus.

The two children we pulled from the sea are cuddling together on Dakaskos’ simple bed. Since we have to be stealthy about it, we could only bring them here. The already cramp room now has five people squeezing in it, which it obviously wasn’t designed for. Maybe they were even more comfortable on that little boat. But as we’d brought in three chairs from the dining room, there’s at least place for us to sit.

“To be honest, you guys should have a hot bath first.”

But it’s only evening now, so there should still be people using the big bath inside. All we can do now is give the pale duo clean clothes and some food, then wrapping them up in insulation, to try and warm them up a bit. If it weren’t for their different hair lengths, the way they look now, both hands cradling a steamy hot cup, would make anyone suspect they’re actually the same person.

“I’ll ask again, then. What do you guys really want to say?”

The boy grabs my palm, writing ‘mazoku’ and ‘save’ again. It seems he’s only learned these two words somewhere. I hold my head and say,

“Problem is, I have no idea what you mean. I can’t understand at all! Do you want to save the mazoku? Or do you want us to save someone specific? You gotta clear up this point, at least!”

“Looks like we’d better discuss this with the captain.”

Dakaskos keeps bring towels, clothes, and leftover soup back and forth, and now he’s saying that as he makes his second cup of tea, eyebrows drooping. From the very start he really wanted to report to Captain Sizemore.

“But if we do that, then we’ll have to send these two back to the s.h.i.+maron s.h.i.+p, y’know. They purposely avoided being rescued by that patrol s.h.i.+p, and were even willing to be separated from the rest of the group to swim to us. Personally, I think there must a reason behind it.”

“Then we should at least report this to His Excellency Günter.”

“That’s even worse!”

Wolfram refutes this suggestion immediately too. If he finds out that we stowed away, he’ll definitely send us back to s.h.i.+n Makoku straight away.

“…What a bother, why can Jason and Freddy speak the common language then?”

“Because they grew up in Dai s.h.i.+maron!”

Oh, yeah. Even if they’re all s.h.i.+nzokus, their culture and education will change according to their surroundings. Speaking of which, I wonder if those twins have safely arrived back home? I asked the Dugard brothers to escort them back on the high-speed vessel. If their hometown is Seisakoku, then the brothers can only go as far as the manmade island.

“If only we can ask them about real situation behind the lockdown… Hmm?”

The s.h.i.+nzoku boy says something that sounds to us like ‘roll s.h.i.+t roll s.h.i.+t’[1], shaking my shoulders. Then he grabs my arm with even more force than before.

“…Ja—Ja…”

“Eh, no, no, I’m not Jason, Jason and Freddy are s.h.i.+nzokus, like you. They’re not here, technically they should already be back in your home country.”

“Suusamarakas.h.i.+!”

…I can’t understand what they’re saying at all, but I use similar sounds to say that it is ‘Suusamarakas.h.i.+’[2]. The siblings look (temporarily) relieved, excitedly discussing something. Then the boy grabs my hand and puts it to his cold chest, saying simply,

“Zeta.”

And he immediately moves my hand to the girl next to him, sticking it to her chest forcefully.

“Zuusha.”

Standing behind me, Dakaskos mumbles,

“Could that be their names?”

Names? I look at the two children before me, and find that they’re smiling sheepishly.

“Names? That’s right, Dakaskos! Of course, those must be their names! So you’re Zeta, and that girl is Zuusha? So the older sister is Zuusha, and the younger brother is Zeta? That’s great, Zeta, even though you’ve only told us your names, I’m really happy! I’m Yuuri, this pretty boy here is Wolfram, and the s.h.i.+ny baldy is Dakaskos. REPEAT AFTER ME.”

“PETER?”

“No, I’m not Peter.”

Because I spoke too quickly, they didn’t get to repeat it again, but they smile happily anyway, nodding in reply.

“Huh, since we can already introduce ourselves, it seems that sign language can still work as communications. I guess they know that Jason is a name.”

This time Zeta starts echoing me. He’s holding his (possibly) older sister, Zuusha’s hand, both of them looking proud and pleased. Since their voices are filled with such liveliness, I can’t help but repeat after them.

“Jason.”

“Jason!”

“Ja—son.”

“Edison.”

It’s just like a party on Friday the 13th, except that last name has nothing to do with any of it.

But the foreign children who went through so much trouble just to tell me their names suddenly turn serious, the siblings start whispering to each other. Perhaps after coming to some conclusion, the two of them nod their heads firmly. Zuusha reaches into the clothes they discarded aside, pulling out a piece of pale white paper folded into a tiny square, and hands it to me.

“Is this for me?”

“…Jason… Freddy…”

“Hmm? What? What are you saying? That Jason and Freddy wrote this?”

I desperately try to calm my shaking fingers, struggling with the wet paper folded four times. It took a while to for me to get it open without tearing it, but the words are already blurred by the seawater. This piece of paper might have been torn from a larger sheet, because it’s not a complete rectangle.

“Looks like another unreadable letter.”

Although it’s an extremely simple piece, the handwriting is big and slanted, so ugly it’s like they were written with the left hand… No, I mean, the handwriting is very unique. The whole paper is dyed by the reddish-brown ink, becoming nothing more than a dyed piece of paper, though there seems to be something that looks like a signature at the bottom.

“Ahh—vaguely… I can see Ja-son, and the other is Freddy. It’s true, this was written by those girls! Why would you have a letter they wrote? Do you know them? Did you make friends with them in Seisakoku? Are the twins all right? What about the other children we sent back?”

“Give me that!”

Seeing as I didn’t even look at the letter before bombarding the children with questions, a ha.s.sled Wolfram s.n.a.t.c.hes away the paper. He’s careful not to damage it, though, and then he carefully spreads it over a chair as a replacement for a table.

“Seems like those twins really did grow up in s.h.i.+maron, because this is written in the common language. Judging from these words, though, they probably never received a proper education.”

“Most of the words are illegible, why didn’t they use an oil-based ink to waterproof it?”

As soon as those pompous words left my mouth, Wolfram glares at me fiercely. That’s right, the spoiled and stubborn former prince.

“…Sorry, oil-based inks weren’t invented here yet, right? Even so, you don’t have to look at me like that.”

“It’s blood.”

He touches the part that he painstakingly deciphered, sniffs it a little and repeats,

“It’s written with blood.”

“Blood? Whose blood? What does this mean? Uh—Are you talking about a curse or something?”

Dakaskos moans painfully, then, beginning with, “Please, no offense, milords”, he says,

“I’m afraid they went to such drastic measures because they couldn’t find any stationary, I’m guessing there were no pens, ink or paper ready then. This paper looks like it was torn from a paper bag, and they probably wrote it using a fingernail stained with blood on a paper that doesn’t absorb water, that’s why the words vanish once they touch seawater—because I received a letter like this once.”

He rubs his head, his expression complicated.

“This type of letter is usually found on those returning from the battlefield, only most of the time… they can only be found on those killed in action.”

“Da--”

I can’t even say his name in one breath. The two children stand shoulder to shoulder, looking our way.

“You mean, these are usually found on corpses… So, Jason and Freddy…”

I swallow the painful words –“are already dead”—back down.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Yuuri. For now we can only be certain that they aren’t in the most optimistic of situations. As for soldiers, they have that kind of will because they already prepared themselves mentally before going to war. Those twins aren’t in the middle of a raging battlefield, and besides, if they really are dead, how can they write a letter?”

Wolfram thumbs the recognizable part, helping me deduct the name and simple contents.

“And here, this should be the word ‘save’. They’re not using the verb properly, though. And see here, Yuuri, this is your name… Aah!”

Next to my name, there’s a vaguely visible word.

“Apologize.”

“…What’s there to apologize for?”

I spread my right palm out wide, wanting to cover up this tragic letter. Because I don’t want to read it anymore, and I don’t want anyone else to know what it says, either.

“Why would those children want to apologize to me? There’s nothing to apologize for, right? Why the h.e.l.l would they go to all those lengths to write a letter like this? All they wanted was to go home, and all I did was send them home, why the h.e.l.l would they need to apologize to me?”

I’m remembering the time we first met. They were surrounded by a thin veil of pure white, perhaps a trick of the weak winter sunlight, so that I could not pull my eyes away. However you look at it, they’re perfectly symmetrical, and if you look closely, their irises are deep gold, scattered with faint green. That beauty is already beyond human, and, different from the forceful nature of the mazoku, there’s a sickly yet fantastical sense in their beauty.

The unique way they talk, without any suffixes, honestly left me frustrated in the beginning.

But they…

The chair that I sweep away in my anger crashes into the wall with a violent noise.

“d.a.m.n!”

Still angry, I ram my fists into the wall, scaring the two on the bed to the point of shaking once. Their faces are so close to each other they’re almost sticking together, and they’re holding each other’s hands tightly, heads lowered without a word. That’s when I realize that they’re afraid.

“No, I’m not blaming you two.”

But I still can’t suppress this feeling. What I’m doing must be terrifying these poor children, who just had to fight for their lives, even more. If we could understand each other, at least I could still explain the reason. But under these circ.u.mstances, acting so emotional in front of them, really is a very bad move.

Since I can’t explain, I walk out of the room and lean on the railing in the night, noting that Wolfram had issued simple orders to stop Dakaskos, who wanted to chase after me.

“d.a.m.n! You gotta be kidding me! What kind of a world is this?!”

I punch the walls, kick the deck, even throw around the life preservers on the hooks.

I even toss the rope we used earlier into the sea, stepping into the puddle we left behind.

Sensing my extreme emotions, the maseki on my chest starts heating up.

Although the weather is not hot in the slightest, cold sweat beats up at the area next to my right eye. When I’m miserable to the point of using my shoulders to catch my breath, an energetic voice comes from behind me.

“Gotten it all off your chest yet?”

“As if!”

I grip the cold white railing, staring into the black waves as I speak, not looking at Wolfram no matter what. Then I purposely release a deep breath—seems like my heart rate has gone back to normal.

“…Sorry, I get too angry too easily. My personality really is straight and forward, heh.”

“I know.”

His calmness surprises me. Did he always sound like this? No, I should say the way he’s talking now sounds more like his oldest brother.

“I noticed… that I’m always losing control in front of you.”

“Really? But you’re feeling upset for the injustice those children have met. That’s worth respecting.”

“Don’t compliment me. It’s only right.”

Before I regain my normal ability to think, I hope the sea and the night sky can comfort me. At least let me relax my fingers, holding on to the railing with an unnatural strength. The s.h.i.+maron s.h.i.+p is still nearby. And there are still small rowboats going back and forth from there to ‘Friends on the Sea’, on the ocean right under the large s.h.i.+ps’ decks.

“I remember saying so before.”

He should be leaning on the wall, arms crossed. Lord von Bielefeld uses a stance similar to that of the gentler of his two brothers, saying with a level tone,

“Whatever it is, as long as it involves the s.h.i.+nzoku, it won’t be good.”

“I heard you, and I know that, I experienced it myself in Dai s.h.i.+maron. Even though I didn’t go into shock, the situation back then really was something else.”

That feeling was completely different from your average sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, leaving only weariness and weakness. It’s true, whenever I get involved with the s.h.i.+nzoku, the Maou’s soul inside me becomes sorta off. But still…

“But still you won’t just sit by and watch, right? Fine, fine, I don’t need to ask to know.”

Blonde hair glittering in the lamplight, the former mazoku prince shakes his head in surprise, or should I say, faking a surprised look.

“You want to go to Seisakoku and save those twins, right? I really can’t stand you, you just want to help every Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry you meet! The way this is going, I’m guessing you’re probably gonna say something like ‘all for one, and one for all’[3]!”

What should I do if it really gets to that? Wait, in that case I won’t have anything to eat.

Just thinking about me going vegetarian, I almost force myself to change my mind. But that letter of blood is already engraved into my mind, and it’s really not that easy to convince me to change it.

“But, Wolf… I promise you, I won’t leave your side halfway through, this much I can guarantee.”

“Right.”

“So let me go.”

“What’s the point of you telling me?”

Wolf lifts his chin as he speaks, looking like a patriarch lecturing the disappointing son.

“But don’t forget, Yuuri, you’re the Maou, the king of the s.h.i.+n Makoku. You want to fix all the injustices in the world, fine, but you can’t forget your country and people.”

“I never forgot.”

Never once have I thought myself capable of solving all the problems in the world. Because even if I have strange and wonderful powers I never would have even dreamed back on Earth, even if I was lifted onto the throne, I still don’t think I can save anything. After all, I have absolutely no confidence in myself, to this day thinking of myself as nothing more than your average baseball kid.

“But s.h.i.+n Makoku has Gwen… Lord von Voltaire, right? And then there’s you, Günter, and Lady Anissina. Even if I’m not doing enough, you guys will help me solve the problems, right?”

“About that, who asked you to be one of history’s rare nooby kings? That’s why even Brother has to constantly put his all into helping you.”

“Mm, but sometimes…”

Sometimes I’ll feel uneasy too.

Wondering, what role do I play? Where do I belong?

“Yuuri?”

“Aah, sorry, it’s nothing, nothing. G.o.d! How did it get this messy?! Just looking at it makes me embarra.s.sed.”

Once I’ve calmed down and looked around, I realize that the mess I made really is unbearable. The life preservers on the deck are all over the place, buckets have been kicked over, if you walk without paying attention you stand a real chance of tripping over them. So I obediently pick them up one by one and return them to their original places. The third son, who’s friendly despite his appearance, helps, and just when we are getting ready to roll the rope back—

“Please hold on! Eeek—Help, young masters! Aah, please don’t be so rough--”

Dakaskos’ tragic voice is obviously a cry for help.

I jump over the buckets we haven’t cleaned up yet and into the corridors, where I see him with his back pressed firmly against the door. He’s blocking five men, protecting the cabin with his life.

And standing at one side, having brought a subordinate with him, Captain Sizemore looks shocked at his stubborn protests. I was just going to say why, even though his face is obviously very familiar, there’s just something off. Turns out he’s grown out a light brown beard, probably because he’s too concerned about the Saint Javier LEVELP[4] hairdo.

Although I can only see the back of one of the men, but he should be a soldier from Shou s.h.i.+maron. Just seeing that cropped ponytail from afar makes his ident.i.ty fairly obvious. If I walk to the front, I’ll surely see a neatly-trimmed beard, connected to his sideburns by a thin line.

Because the cropped ponytail is the standard hairstyle for Shou s.h.i.+maron soldiers.

“We’ve searched all the cabins nearby, this is the only one left. We suspect that you have hidden refugees from Seisakoku inside.”

“I-I-I t-t-t-told you there aren’t a-a-a-any refugees--”

“But there were people who saw someone on your s.h.i.+p pull two s.h.i.+nzoku children onboard with rope!”

“What on earth are you doing, Dakaskos? If you say there aren’t any, then just let them search the room and be done with it! Otherwise these patrolmen can’t report back to their s.h.i.+p!”

“I—can’t--! No matter what you say, I can’t. There aren’t any children in the cabin! Anyway—if my wife finds out about this, she’ll skin me alive--!”

At least Captain Sizemore has accepted what he said. I put the words ‘good going, using your wife as a s.h.i.+eld!’ aside for later, and decide to intervene as the person responsible. I won’t hand those children over to you. Zeta and Zuusha specifically looked to the mazoku, to me, for help. After living sixteen years, a simple lie should be easy as pie.

“Wait a moment, you people, stop acting like the boss on someone else’s s.h.i.+p! We didn’t rescue any kids!”

At that moment the captain’s eyes are staring at me, mouth falling open in surprise, and the fingers plucking at his beard tangled into a mess.

“Y-Your Majesty?” But of course he didn’t make any noise. Wolfram puts his chef’s hat over my head, thanks, Mr Stubborn. Because it’d be bad if humans from another country saw my black hair. As for my eyes, I can sc.r.a.pe through as long as I keep my gaze on the ground, but hiding my hair completely is another matter altogether.

“I was listening to you from a side, you really like spouting nonsense, don’t you? We’re not hiding any refugee children, not—hiding—any—children--! Even if we really did save any refugee children, we don’t have to have to hand them to you, do we?”

Faced with a rude and anxiously protesting me, the three Shou s.h.i.+maron patrolmen scoff in contempt.

“Captain, this dishwasher seems to be making a fuss about something.”

“What did you say? Dishwasher? Stop joking around!”

“That’s right, what are you saying? So rude, I didn’t wash those dishes myself!”

After hearing what they said, though, I just realize that I’m wearing a kitchen apprentice’s clothes, and since I look like a child just only in my teens, I must be the rookie of rookies, at the most in charge of peeling potatoes. But to Captain Sizemore, it’s a different story. He knows the p.i.s.sed off my and the angry Wolfram’s true ident.i.ties, but since he has no idea how to react to this situation his eyes have gone almost all white like a dead fish, even those they aren’t really white.

But even so, the Shou s.h.i.+maron patrolmen are still relentlessly pus.h.i.+ng Dakaskos, who’s dead set determined yet still doesn’t know what to do. This man is by nature gentle and pa.s.sive, his s.h.i.+ny scalp gleaming even s.h.i.+nier under the coat of cold sweat, but it seems to me he’s close to the breaking point, s.h.i.+vering uncontrollably.

The captain must have noticed something’s up when I showed myself, so he rejects Shou s.h.i.+maron’s request solemnly. But the patrolman seems to be of surprisingly high rank, so he isn’t shaken off so easily. I didn’t think that someone of such a high positions would come here personally, and in their conversations they even call him Admiral.

More and more people gather around to see what’s the commotion. Some yell that they forced their way onto our s.h.i.+p, others even swear at them on purpose. The tipsy soldiers reach for their weapons, making the atmosphere so tense a spark could cause a full-blown confrontation. Things can’t go on like this, I don’t care if you’re an admiral or an admirer, you should be nicer when talking to a king. I mean, please be nicer to me, I’m asking you nicely.

“Hey hey hey, don’t you know I’m--”

“What’s the ruckus so late in the night?!”

A loud and clear voice resounds from behind the crowd, and I lose my chance to bare my fake fangs.

The wall of seamen start splitting to the sides. A tall man with floating pale grey long hair and a long robe walks over elegantly.

The beautiful Prime Minister, the super bis.h.i.+e Education Minister, the pretty man whose killer move is the Nosebleed Bomb--- Lord von Christ Günter.

Lord von Christ uses an annoyed yet still beautiful low voice to ask,

“What happened here, captain?”

“Your Excellency Günter!”

There’s Sizemore, who looks obviously relieved, and Dakaskos, whose overwhelming sense of relief has caused his tears and snot to flow freely. And then there’s Wolfram and I, holding my head and squatting on the ground, screaming ‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaah, it’s all over, he’s here’.

The education minister was probably busy with his doc.u.ments, because there’s a pair of small thin-framed gla.s.ses sitting on his nose. If he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, his knowledgeable and feminine beauty, suits silver lens perfectly. Problem is, once he notices Wolfram and I, who theoretically shouldn’t be here, his long and beautiful brow jumps upwards abruptly. We’re surprised, though, that his reaction isn’t anywhere near as big as we’d antic.i.p.ated.

He purposely bends down, whispering in my ear,

“What is milord doing here?”

“Umm—Uhh, about that…. Those old people gla.s.ses… No, those spectacles look really good on you, you’re three times even prettier than normal.”

“Your… Normally if I got your praise, my heart would rise into the heavens. But today sucking up to me at the last minute won’t cut it, you know, and Wolfram too.”

“I’m real sorry, Günter. I’m repenting, and I’ll explain to you properly later. But now isn’t the time to talk about that, we’re facing a rare crisis here.”

I send my strong ‘help me, please’ waves to Günter through my gaze, trying to make my eyes look moist. It’s a trick I used on my family back in middle school when I wanted them to get me new baseball shoes. Since I’ve grown so much since then, I don’t dare to expect much in the way of results.

“Mmph!”

Günter puts his hand by his mouth, half squatting as he leaves my side.

“T-the reason you two are here, I-I-I’ll get it out of you later!”

Seems like it works. After all, to a centenarian like Günter, sixteen-year-old me am like a grandson. No matter how tall they grow, a grandson is still a grandson, and even if the kid’s a little spoiled and stubborn, he won’t mind. If I’d known this earlier, I could’ve just used the teary-eyed technique to convince him to take me along.

Lord von Christ clears his throat deliberately, returning to his efficient official expression, and uses a commanding tone to scatter the gathered crowd. Although many people look unsatisfied, but since it’s the beautiful prime minister’s orders they have no choice but to obey. And so, one by one they go back to their respective stations, cabins, and drinking spots.

“All right, whatever it is, please say it, Admiral.”

The s.h.i.+maron patrolman’s mood has obviously been soured, but even he should have noticed the newcomer’s high status. In short terms he explains his suspicion that we’re hiding refugees, and most likely in that cabin, as well as incidents such as how Dakaskos refused to budge from the door.

“I see… but I, Lord von Christ Günter, Special Amba.s.sador of the s.h.i.+n Makoku with Full Authority under Orders of the Maou, would never allow a riot on my s.h.i.+p. And you are suspecting ‘Friends on the Sea’, the vessel that I, Lord von Christ Günter, Special Amba.s.sador of the s.h.i.+n Makoku with Full Authority under Orders of the Maou, am aboard. Not only is this an act of humiliation against me, Lord von Christ Günter, Special Amba.s.sador of the s.h.i.+n Makoku with Full Authority under Orders of the Maou, but also against the entire s.h.i.+n Makoku navy. Are you clear, you admiral or patrolman something? Our s.h.i.+p declares here and now, that we never rescued any refugees. Or do you not believe what I, Lord von Christ Günter, Special Amba.s.sador of the s.h.i.+n Makoku with Full Authority under Orders of the Maou, say?”

Probably scared by the overly long “Special Amba.s.sador of the what-and-what”, Ponytail shakes his head with a complicated expression.

“B-but, you have to give face to us s.h.i.+maron patrolmen too!”

“Honestly, you have a point, so…”

The patrolmen take a step back and brace themselves for the “Special Amba.s.sador of the dot dot dot summarize the rest”.

“How about we do it this way, you may send your Shou s.h.i.+maron soldiers to search the entire s.h.i.+p. Be it the dining hall or the regular toilets, or even the for-display-only golden toilet, you are welcome to enter. Of course, the captain’s wig room included!”

Sizemore presses his head frantically.

“You can go ahead and search everywhere, you can even get down on all fours to search. But, with the sole exception of my, Lord von Christ Günter, Special Amba.s.sador of the s.h.i.+n Makoku with Full Authority under Orders of the Maou’s room.”

“What?”

The s.h.i.+maron men look timid. Günter lifts his beautifully carved chin, his presence overwhelming everyone else.

“That much should be obvious, no? After all, I am the Special Amba.s.sador of the s.h.i.+n Makoku…”

“Y-yes. We believe your reputation, we won’t search your room, or any other rooms of high ranking officials.”

Perhaps because he doesn’t want to hear that motto again, the patrolman hurriedly interrupts Günter. I just never thought Günter was so happy to be chosen as amba.s.sador.

“T-then, would this kitchen apprentice quickly make way? We’ve checked all the hiding areas near the deck, this is the only room left.”

“That won’t do.”

The mazoku’s excellent Prime Minister doesn’t even glance Dakasko’s ‘Noo you can’t’ expression, replying without hesitation.

“Because this is my room.”

What--?

The ponytailed patrolmen aren’t the only ones surprised. With Wolf and me at the helm, even those few remaining onlookers are shocked to the point their feet stop in mid-air on the way to the door. As for Dakaskos, his jaw fell open too wide and became dislocated. Poor Captain Sizemore’s eyeb.a.l.l.s have gone out of focus, one pointing left while the other dangles right, making hid overall appearance rather scary.

“W-wait, aren’t you Lord von Christ Günter, Special Amba.s.sador of the s.h.i.+n Makoku with Full Authority under Orders of the Maou? An official with a status as high as yours, there’s no way you could have been allocated a room in the low level quarters with normal soldiers, or mostly new recruits and apprentice crewmen, right? Even in our Shou s.h.i.+maron army, that is unimaginable.”

“To be honest, I was originally allocated a guest’s suite next to the captain’s quarters. But don’t judge me by how I look, I am also a man. I have a man’s rights, and an adult relations.h.i.+p that I’d rather the captain and crew not know about!”

“Adult…”

“That’s right, and a very pa.s.sionate one, at that.”

What--? Does that sentence mean you have a lover?

You say you don’t want others finding out, but you said it yourself, Günter. Captain Sizemore claps his hands over his ears in a delayed motion, but it’s too late.

“S-so you’re saying this room is for that kind of thing… Wait, w-wait a second!”

The Shou s.h.i.+maron soldiers’ expressions of panic are hilarious, and the middle-aged man who seems to have the highest position scratches the beard on his chin as he says,

“B-but even if this is a room for adult relations.h.i.+ps, the location isn’t too logical, is it? There’s a humid sea breeze blowing, the floorboards are covered with seagull droppings, and the walls are so thin than any bedroom conversation can be heard clearly. It’s hard to imagine that you would hide a mistress in a place as bad as this!”

At the word ‘mistress’, the patrolman with the textbook beard’s neck turns red with embarra.s.sment. Looks like he’s an innocent old uncle, completely unlike what his appearance suggests.

However, Lord von Christ Günter replies firmly,

“I just happen to have that sort of preferences!”

Amazing! Günter, it’s so rare for you to be so macho. Let me just remind you, the room number is 108[5].

“T-that sort of preferences, huh… No, no no no, wait! I still don’t get it. Even if Your Excellency has that sort of preferences, just if! Ladies still hope for a romantic love, the woman in a profane relations.h.i.+p with… Mmph, sorry , I mean, the lady sowing seeds of love with Your Excellency would never…”

He tosses around his brown ponytail, pointing to the men around.

“This is the kind of place seamen and buff musclemen wander around, covered in sweat, dust and muscles, there shouldn’t be any romantic atmosphere… Ah. D-d-d-d-d-don’t tell me? Your Excellency’s partner is?”

Lord von Christ Günter replies agitatedly,

“I said it before! I just happen to have that sort of preference… Eh?”

Interestingly, the s.h.i.+maron man’s face turns from red to blue, then finally to a bleached white. But the only one wavering now seems to be the middle-aged patrolman with the highest position. The other younger subordinates are desperately trying to hold in their laughter.

“I-if s-so, this door can’t be opened--”

The Shou s.h.i.+maron patrolmen start imagining what kind of character would be in that room, then they turn around and slip back to their own s.h.i.+p in a hurry.

Bet you their hearts are filled with headlines like ‘The Shocking Truth! Mazoku Official’s Fancy s.e.xual Preference’, only they can’t discuss the gossip on the spot. Once they get back to their s.h.i.+p, though, they’ll definitely chatter excitedly about it nonstop, telling it to everyone who would listen. Maybe for this reason alone, the group of ponytails leaves the s.h.i.+p even faster than they boarded, without once turning back.

“Eh, wait? Please wait a second, have you misunderstood something?”

I show my grat.i.tude to the impressive Prime Minister, and pat his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t be so upset, Günter. Liking musclemen isn’t a thing to be ashamed of.”

“Eeeeeh?”

“That’s right, Günter. Like Mother, she super loves them.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh--?”

I suddenly feel like I’m seeing Lady Cheri under a faraway sky, yelling,

“I—super—love—musclemen--”… It’s probably better if Gisela never found out about this.