The Demon Lord embarks on their first personal expedition

Swaying gently, softly rocked by something.

A pleasant voice echoes from afar, bringing a delightful feeling.

It wouldn't be bad to continue sleeping like this—

"Igusa-sama, Igusa-sama, please wake up. The repairs are finished. Why am I calling you 'Igusa-sama' without any resistance!?"

Lizel, that's because you're smoothly settling into your role as the Demon King's familiar.

Being a familiar of the Demon King means you're a direct subordinate of the Demon King, so it's natural to use 'sama' with your name.

Isn't it unthinkable to kick the Demon King's groin while sleeping and say, "Hey, wake up, you pig!" along with abusive language to wake him up?

...Well, actually, that might be acceptable in some cases.

Of course, I'm not a serious masochist, so even if there's plenty of punishment later on the bed, it's still weird.

Rather, wouldn't it be better to have a subordinate with a defiant attitude who wants to be punished!?

Oops, my thoughts are wandering again.

It's my bad habit to get absorbed in thought and then drift off course.

But, I can't help but be curious. It's almost a waste to sleep.

---Hm.

With a snap, I open my eyes, and there's Lizel, with a half-crying, genuinely amusing expression on her face.

"Good morning, Lizel. Sorry for the suddenness, but what do you think about having subordinates who take on a defiant attitude because they want to be punished in a sexual sense? Do you think that's acceptable?"

I think seeking opinions from others is an important attitude for a ruler.

I think relying too much on others isn't good, but not listening to opinions enough isn't good either.

"Is that what you ask right after waking up? Please don't ask me such things!"

She burst into tears.

Is this what they call a maiden's heart? It's complicated.

I also asked the same question to the Hero-sama—Lime.

"Has your brain rotted? I think you should just die."

It wasn't received well at all.

◇

The repaired reactor hummed to life, and the sleek white boomerang-shaped fighter jet, officially named "Class 5 Fighter TLF-90049 Act Ray," underwent its startup checks.

Lizel was tapping away at a console input device that resembled a combination of a smartphone-like touch panel and a keyboard.

I've always been curious about this in sci-fi.

Aren't the mechanics in sci-fi works a bit too versatile?

Even with various standards and technologies from alien civilizations, can mechanics handle everything—hardware and software—just by working hard in a maintenance bay?

I asked Lizel about that. Even though she's a ship mechanic, she can handle maintenance, adjustments, and even emergency repairs on fighters. Why is that?

"Well... I've heard that during the dawn of scientific civilization, each machine had its own complex manual, you know? But once technology surpasses a certain threshold, standardized specifications rapidly advance. So someone who can repair household appliances can also repair fighters and battleships. Because fundamentally, they're the same despite differences in size and scale."

I see, that makes sense and is quite logical.

Rather than having repair and production manuals for each individual product, if you standardize even if it's slightly inconvenient or less efficient, you can apply one set of skills universally for manufacturing and repair.

They compensate for efficiency and usability issues with improved technological capabilities.

I'm not sure if this world shares the same technological system as other sci-fi worlds, but my long-standing question has been answered and I feel relieved.

◇

The sound of the two reactors, which could be considered the heart of the Act Ray, resonated in a mysterious way.

A high-pitched whine... It resembled a sound I remembered from somewhere in my memory—perhaps like the metallic sound of a jet engine starting up, but higher-pitched and resembling more of a musical instrument.

That's the operating sound of the reactors installed in the Act Ray.

"Igusa, I wasn't really knowledgeable about weapons back on the original Earth, but I think this aircraft looks beautiful."

Raim didn't seem to appreciate male romance much, but she seemed to have a different view on functional beauty.

"Yeah, it's a design quite different from Earth's weapons, but you have good taste."

If we continue like this with three people aboard, we'll end up in a Twister game scenario, tightly packed into the single-seater cockpit, so Lizel worked hard to convert it into a two-seater.

It's configured side-by-side like seats on a train, which feels a bit unusual.

After the modification, the previously cramped cockpit had become quite spacious.

Apparently, using up spare parts for repairs freed up some space.

"I keep coming up with various ideas one after another, and difficult tasks become easy, but it feels weird not being myself anymore..."

Despite everything going well, Lizel had tears in her eyes while working.

Since becoming the familiar of the Demon Lord, her intelligence and dexterity stats must have increased.

"That's good. Your stats must have gone up overall, right?"

"What are stats? Human abilities aren't that simple to quantify into numbers!"

If I use appraisal or analysis magic, I could probably see specific numbers.

...Well, maybe it's better to wait until Lizel calms down before actually telling her?

◇

"Alright, make sure to sit properly once you're on board. While we have an Inertial Canceller (a device that mitigates and suppresses inertia for crew protection), with more people, there'll still be some recoil that can't be fully offset."

"It feels really weird sitting side by side. Like a train."

Beyond Lizel, who sat in the central seat, I could see Raim. Her feet were barely touching the seat due to her height.

I watched Lizel operate the monitor. Whether it was the incredible science and technology of the SF world, or if interfaces had been refined over a long period, or both, I couldn't tell.

But even though I only had outdated knowledge from Earth's past when it came to SF worlds, I somehow understood the meaning of operational procedures and required numerical values for flying more easily than driving a car on 21st-century Earth.

"Igusa-sama, please don't touch that. It's an old ship, so it's delicate."

I really wanted to fiddle with it. How did she know? Did it show on my face?

"You look surprised. Igusa, your hands were actually moving."

"...They were? You caught me."

Well then... I seem to understand just by looking at it. SF is not to be underestimated.

Lizel is seated in the driver's seat. It looks convenient for piloting and navigation operations.

Raim is in the co-pilot seat. It seems suitable for assisting Lizel's work.

I'm in the commander's seat. It's easy to check information here, and communication functions are well-equipped.

However, things like piloting and weapon control aren't impossible, but they seem more difficult compared to the other two seats.

...Is it just a coincidence? If I touch something related to that, will something strange happen? If I think about it, I might get punished.

"No need for rituals or events before departure. Lizel, take us out."

"Yes, my master... Ugh. I ended up saying it naturally."

Despite tears in her eyes, Lizel operated with practiced movements.

Perhaps it's because I'm in the commander's seat. In front of me is something like a monitor—multiple SF-style windows floating in space—showing various statuses.

While it's romantic to have monitors surrounding the cockpit, it takes up space and is inefficient. Therefore, for instruments like speedometers, fuel systems, and navigation used for flying and combat, the mainstream approach seems to be projecting images onto the retina or directly into the visual nerves.

Naturally, the outdated Act Ray uses the former, a retinal projection type, which is solid and cost-effective.

"Reactor operating rate increased from 5% to 40%."

The sound of the reactors through the aircraft increased. It's quite romantic.

"Shield Generator Defense Field Activation... Successful. Shield deployed at 70%... Strength at 83s."

Huh, even a small fighter like this has shields?

It doesn't seem to be a barrier that crackles and breaks, nor is it a colored, transparent one.

If only it emitted a blue mist... No, it would just be flashy and useless.

"Weapon Control System Activation. All parts checked... Normal."

Green indicators increased on the overall diagram of the Act Ray displayed on the monitor.

There's one fixed cannon in front of the aircraft and one small rotating gun on each wing, totaling three.

The rotating guns are labeled for missile interception, making it essentially armed for reconnaissance.

"Launch sequence initiated. Transitioning to hover mode."

The external image visible beyond the display devices shifted from a tilted to a horizontal position with the ground.

"Final checks complete. Act Ray, launching!"

...Well, for Lizel, this is probably an everyday scene. But still, it feels light, too light! I wish there were a bit more drama!

As the reactor noise intensified, we floated unnaturally upwards before soaring into the sky.

There was hardly any sensation of floating when we ascended, nor did I feel pressed against the seat during acceleration.

Thanks to the Inertial Canceller Lizel mentioned.

This must be convenient, but it feels incredibly unsatisfying.

It felt like just watching moving landscape images on a screen, like watching a movie through a screen.

"...It's unsettling."

Raim also had a quite subtle expression. I probably had a similar one.

With us aboard the "Act Ray," we flew towards the crash site of the assault landing ship in a world tinged with rust-red.

◇

A few minutes after departure, as we moved over the barren, rust-red wasteland with sporadic high-rise ruins, something caught Raim's attention.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but later it might be said to be the start of an event or something like that.

"Lizel, I have a question. Are you okay now?"

"Yes, Raim-san. The piloting is set to semi-auto, so it's okay."

"Before we met you, Lizel, you mentioned being attacked by drones. What kind of drones were they?"

"Drones? Um... They are semi-disposable unmanned autonomous combat vehicles made by combining inexpensive parts. There are recovery types too, but disposable types are more common in large-scale combat. They attack anything that's not friendly within a designated area or range until their energy runs out."

"Wouldn't that cause problems for regular people?"

"The disposable types are programmed to self-destruct by sending a destruct code after combat ends. Occasionally, there are stray drones that manage not to self-destruct."

I wonder how practical it is for weapons if they decide to ignore the self-destruct code.

At Lizel's words, Raim and I looked up, drawn into the sky.

Combat in the space beyond the fighter's canopy was likely already nearing its end.

Occasionally, something like beams flew as if remembering them, but they were quite sporadic.

"In that case, isn't the drone that dropped this Act Ray still operational?"

"Huh?"

Making a curious sound, Lizel stopped, tilting her head.

With impeccable timing, a beep!—a warning sound understandable even to someone like me, a modern person—echoed.

"I have a bad feeling about this... nooo!"

Lizel enlarged a semi-transparent radar display, showing three approaching responses from behind.

"They're pretty fast. At this rate, won't they catch up soon?"

"The drones are here! They're here! This one is a versatile type that can operate in both space and atmospheric conditions, while that one is specialized for atmospheric use. There's no way we can escape!"

"I wish you had noticed that before we took off... Hey, do people call you naive or something?"

"I don't know why, but yes, they say that a lot!"

Lizel responded somewhat dejectedly. Ah, so everyone around her feels she's a bit naive.

"Understood. So, can we fight and win?"

"Drones are generally the type to overwhelm with numbers, but their performance is equivalent to Class 4! This one is an older model, and there are many of the latest models over there. There's no way we can win... After we've been saved, I don't want to crash again!"

While crying out, Lizel busily operated something.

"Reactor operating rate 120%. Warning: Overload detected."

"Propeller efficiency increased to 112%. Warning: Safety limiter released."

The Act Ray, which had been flying gently until now, suddenly began to accelerate as if kicked.

Acceleration that couldn't be nullified by the Inertial Canceller pressed against our bodies in the seats.

Ah, indeed, without this in a fighter, it wouldn't feel right! The sensation of accelerating feels really good.

Glancing at Lizel, who was operating desperately, I felt satisfied with the SF-style romance.

◇

"Ahhh, this is bad! They're catching up after all!"

Initially, the Act Ray had accelerated to speeds akin to a drone, but alas, it seemed destined for an older model's fate.

Using a secret technique to push the reactor beyond its limits, we managed to exceed the drone's speed by boosting up to 150%.

However, within minutes, the overloaded reactor screamed in protest, its output dropping sharply, and the speed plummeted.

Drones, autonomous unmanned combat fighters, were now so close we could see them with the naked eye.

Crashing wouldn't be fun.

While Raim and I seemed safe even if we crashed, Lizel's life was precarious.

Losing such a valuable cat-eared familiar would be terribly inconvenient. We haven't even done anything sexy yet!

"Lizel, do you know what armaments the drones have?"

"I know, I kno...ow! I know. I know. I'm getting used to... it... The type I'm dealing with is the new model of Feelhate for atmospheric use, so it should have close-range, low-attenuation type (maintaining power in the atmosphere) laser machine guns... Uhi!"

Lizel screamed, tilting the craft and sliding sideways. Several blue beams passed where we had just flown, clearing the space.

"Laser... lasers?"

"Igusa, do you have any ideas?"

"Let's try something. I think it might work."

"We dodged luckily that time, but we won't next! We're going to get hit straight on!"

"Conceptual Magic Activated: Light Attribute Resistance X."

Igusa laid hands on the console and cast a spell to grant attribute defense. It was a supportive spell typically used against light breath attacks from dragons or similar foes, for party members or specified areas.

The increased number of lasers hit the Act Ray's surface, licking like strikes, but seemed to cause no damage.

It wasn't reflecting. It was simply ineffective when it hit.

"It's hitting us! We're going down, we're going to crash! Huh? Even though it's been hit by lasers enough times to turn into a hornet's nest twenty times over, why isn't anything happening?"

"Lizel, that last statement was strangely erotic. Keep that feeling in mind for next time."

"I don't care about any of that!"

Ah, Lizel's reactions are really lively and enjoyable.

"Well, let me explain. If it's lasers, it's basically light, right? So, why not use a magic resistance spell for light attributes? You got lucky with the lasers. If it were beams, dealing with a mix of physical and flame attributes would be troublesome."

"Ah, I see. As a Demon Lord, I'm well-prepared for light magic resistance."

Raim seemed convinced.

"I hate magic and all that! It's driving me crazy!"

Lizel was confused, and so were the drones.

They were shooting lasers like crazy, but they didn't seem to reflect.

Even though they hit, the AI couldn't comprehend that they weren't working.

"Lizel, can't we counterattack?"

"They're high-mobility drones, probably Class 4 equivalent with strong shields. My skills aren't up to snuff for this old-fashioned rapid-fire beam cannon, even with Igusa-sama's orders!"

"Maybe I can handle it this time. I'll take control of the rotating laser cannon."

Raim tapped the console in front of her and operated it.

It's impressive that a 21st-century Earth girl could intuitively operate in an SF world interface.

It's the most impressive SF technology I've seen so far, and I want to assert that as many times as I can.

"It might be impossible. It's a low-power laser cannon for intercepting missiles, so it'll just scratch the drones' shields."

"It'll probably be fine."

Taking control, Raim moved the spherical laser cannon embedded in the wings, like eyes, toward the rear, then fired a clearly thick and sharp laser... Oops, the drones hit directly, blowing up and crashing both to the ground. A single blow is amazing.

"Why can such a shabby laser cannon penetrate the drones' shields and armor?"

Gradually, more of Lizel's cries contained more resignation and sadness than surprise. How do I know? Because I'm a Demon Lord who admires evil, of course. It's only natural for someone who's heard people scream to have their say.

"Attack power is the sum of a person's abilities and weapon performance. So even with a weak weapon, if the attack power is high, it will work."

I see. It's a fantasy RPG logic that even a cheap stick or a copper sword, when equipped by a skilled warrior, can damage powerful monsters without any problem.

In terms of genre, it's a fantasy RPG game logic. At least a laser cannon for interception is better than a stick or a copper sword.

"I hate fantasy and all that! I'm going home, Lizel-tan!"

With the last drone shot down effortlessly by Raim, crashing to the ground behind, Lizel began to regress to childhood. Oh, yes, she used to call herself Lizel-tan when she was a child.

Thus, we managed to repel the drones safely.

However, returning Lizel to sanity after her full-on regression into infancy, her eyes vacant as she began to ask, "Who are you, big brother and big sister?" proved to be quite a challenge.