I Was Supposed to Be Feeding the Pigeons, But Somehow I Ended Up Feeding a Beautiful Demon Lord Instead - 23

Chapter 23

I’ve always thought that a summer festival is basically just a variation of an “endurance contest.”

The battle against the humidity, the shoving match with the crowds, and the staring contest with ridiculously overpriced yakisoba. Yet people still gather here for one reason only: they’re chasing the drug called “something out of the ordinary.”

It all started a few days earlier during a conversation in the park.

“Kazuya. It seems that in the near future, something called the ‘Eastern Culture Exchange Festival’ will be held in the grand square of the royal capital,” Bel said while sipping her coffee on the usual bench.

“Yeah, I saw the posters. Apparently merchant ships came from a faraway eastern country, and they’re setting up some rare stalls.”

“Mm. According to Zest… according to my subordinate, at that festival there is a kind of ‘formal attire’ that lets one blend in with the local people.”

“Formal attire? Oh, you mean yukata?”

“Yukata…? Yes, that’s the one. A strange garment with almost zero defensive power, made by wrapping cloth around the body and tying it with a sash.”

Bel frowned and fiddled with the hem of her usual robe.

“My subordinate said, ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do’… By imitating local customs, one can lower their guard and probe more deeply into internal affairs…”

“I see. So it’s part of the reconnaissance, right?”

“Exactly. …And so… going alone would draw too much attention, therefore you will accompany me. This is an order.”

“Sure, no problem. I was just craving some yakisoba anyway—”

◆

And that’s how I ended up standing at the entrance to the royal capital’s grand square right now.

“…Sorry to keep you waiting, Kazuya.”

Even in the sea of people, Bel gave off an almost unnatural presence. She wasn’t wearing her usual black robe. What she had on was a cool-looking indigo yukata.

The fabric was decorated with morning glory patterns, the obi was a vivid vermilion, and today her normally hidden silver hair was stylishly pinned up. The nape of her neck looked strikingly white. It gleamed so brightly under the street lamps that it almost hurt to look at.

“What’s wrong? Does my appearance look strange?”

Bel asked anxiously, pinching the edge of her sleeve.

“No, it suits you. Really well.”

I answered honestly. To be frank, I was captivated. The usual “exhausted middle-manager” aura had completely vanished, and she looked like some sheltered noble daughter who had sneaked out for a bit of fun.

Well… her sharp gaze was still the same, scanning the surrounding crowd as if sizing up whether they were “enemy soldiers or not.”

“I see. The obi is so tight that my breathing becomes shallow. Is this also part of training?”

“Well, that’s just how yukata are. But doesn’t it make your posture look better?”

Bel gave a small, pleased smile. The contrast with her usual listless atmosphere was striking. I couldn’t help but look away for a second.

“Shall we go then? Please don’t get separated from me.”

“Mm. …Permission granted. Hold on.”

Bel quietly extended the edge of her sleeve toward me. I lightly pinched it, and we stepped into the crowd together.

◆

The festival grounds were wrapped in heat and excitement. Candied apples, grilled squid, suspiciously colored drinks. Bel walked along the row of stalls, looking around with obvious curiosity.

“Hmm… that object being cooked on the iron plate is giving off an incredible smell.”

“That’s yakisoba. The scent of burning sauce is basically a direct attack on the human appetite center. It’s a weapon.”

“Weapon… I see. Eastern military technology cannot be underestimated.”

Bel stared seriously at the yakisoba stall, but when I bought one and handed it to her saying “Here you go,” her face lit up with happiness and she began eating it with little huffs of breath.

She’s adorable. I don’t know what kind of brutal workload she usually deals with, but I really wish she’d take breaks like this more often.

After walking for a while, we reached a slightly more open area. There was a shooting gallery stall using cork guns.

“What is that?”

Bel stopped in her tracks.

“It’s a shooting game. You shoot cork bullets to knock down prizes and make them fall.”

“…Sniping.”

The color in Bel’s eyes changed in an instant. They became the eyes of a hunter.

“This looks interesting. Allow me to show you my skill.”

She stepped up to the stall, handed the stall owner some copper coins, and received the cork gun. Her stance was flawless. Back straight, elbows tucked in, barrel perfectly still. Her target: the giant bear plush sitting at the very top of the shelf.

“Disappear.”

With that low murmur, she pulled the trigger. A pathetic pon sound. The cork bullet sailed high above the bear and vanished uselessly into the back curtain.

“…Huh?”

Bel froze.

“Was it the wind? No, perhaps a spatial distortion? There should be no error in my aim.”

“No, cork bullets are so light that if you aim high they float upward.”

“Silence. Next.”

Second shot. Pon. This time it veered off to the right.

“…Stall owner, you tampered with this gun, didn’t you? The ballistic calculation and impact point do not match.”

“Big sis, you’re pretty bad at this, huh?”

The stall owner grinned as he spoke, apparently pouring oil on the fire. The temperature around Bel dropped sharply. This was bad. If things continued, she might erase the entire stall—and the prizes—along with it. I hurriedly moved behind her.

“Bel-san, you’re putting way too much strength into it.”

“Let go, Kazuya. Right now I’m going to disintegrate that bear down to the molecular level…”

“Just give it here.”

I wrapped my hands over hers to support the gun. Bel let out a strange “Hyau!” sound. Even through the yukata, I could feel the warmth of her body.

“Okay, keep your elbows in. Don’t aim at the bear’s forehead—aim at its feet. Imagine knocking its center of gravity off balance.”

I whispered the advice close to her ear.

“Y-yes… the feet…”

“That’s right. Breathe out, relax… now.”

On my signal, Bel pulled the trigger. With a satisfying crack, the cork bullet struck right at the bear’s feet. The giant plush wobbled, then slowly tilted backward in almost slow motion before toppling off the shelf.

“It fell!”

When I shouted, Bel stared blankly at the fallen bear. The stall owner called out “Here ya go, congrats” and handed her the prize. Bel hugged the bear—which was bigger than she was—with wide eyes.

“…I got it.”

“You did it, Bel-san.”

When I smiled at her, she buried her face in the bear’s fur and muttered softly.

“…Until now, whenever I wanted something, the only way I knew was to take it by magic.”

“Huh?”

“Aiming carefully, calculating the logic… obtaining it that way isn’t so bad either.”

She said that and gave a shy little smile. That smile was far more beautiful than the fireworks that had just begun blooming in the distant sky, and for a moment my heart skipped a beat.

“…Well, sometimes at work you do need forceful methods, though.”

I took her words to be about her job and nodded.

Bel swung the bear’s paw toward me in a little wave. At that moment, the cheers around us grew even louder. In the night sky, huge flowers of fireworks were about to burst open.