rode down a street so broad that all kinds of carriages could speed down it comfortably at high velocities. Thanks to the evenly-laid paving stones, the swaying was held more or less to a minimum. Although the trip had already lasted four days, my backside didn't hurt that badly.

When I looked out the window, I could enjoy the landscape. On the seat across from me sat a beautiful woman with platinum blond hair. Even though we had to spend the nights in the carriage, the trip was by and large quite comfortable -- as long as you didn't consider the fact that I was a prisoner.

Flynn Gilbit feared that her Captain Crusoe -- that's me -- could run away and, to avoid that, she'd posted two musclemen to the left and right of me on the cushion-covered seat. Like a chorus line, these guys had linked arms with me. Observed from a distance, I must have looked like some kind of alien being hauled away by NASA.

I called these two my Beefy Seatbelts. Or better yet my Beefy Booster Seat. Because yes, there was a time when I had to sit on one of these guys lap.

The Seatbelts didn't deign to look at me at all. Could that be because I hadn't been able to wash for two days?

"They're afraid of you," said Flynn Gilbit with a charming smile. The mask by which she transformed into Prince Norman Gilbit shone silver on her lap. "They're afraid of your black hair and your black eyes, my dear Captain Crusoe," she explained and stretched her hand towards my bangs. It didn't seem like she shared her mens fears.

"Robinson, your assistant, had a black eye too, all of a sudden, but then the next morning it was blue again. His black was surely not real, right? Your eyes possess a completely different luster."

"That's probably because Mu-- err, Robin's eyes shine with more intelligence than mine."

Ken Murata-Robinson sat in the carriage right behind us. I didn't know the reason, but Flynn didn't like it at all when the two of us were together.

"Whatever the case may be, I find your eyes gorgeous. They have the color of a moonless, gloomy night. There are said to be men who would give up all their worldly possessions to own someone like you. Given this color, who would doubt that you could be a wonder drug for immortality and eternal youth."

In my head I saw myself as foodstuffs at the Sichuan Market -- alongside the baby monkeys, fawns, and insect larvae.

"You, of all people, are gushing aboutmylooks?" I grumbled. "Are you trying to make me angry? Your own face outclasses everyone."

"Well, aren't you a sweet talker?"

Flynn's delicate fingertips approached the stone on my chest. "I'm not afraid of your eyes, but of this stone." She withdrew before her hand touched the stone of a blue deeper and stronger than the sky itself. "I can't help myself. I can't shake the feeling that tremendous power and dark secrets are hidden inside. For the people of Carolia, it has great meaning simply from the Wincott coat of arms it displays."

"If Adalbert is right, the people here were pretty rotten to the Wincotts back then. So it's no wonder they have a guilty conscience and feel lousy every time they see that coat of arms."

"Captain, please don't misunderstand. The Gilbit family first came into existence long afterwards. We have nothing to do with the rulers of that time."

"But then why are you still so keen on descendants of the Wincotts, after all this time?"

"If I were to reveal all my secrets, would you then support me in my plans? Would you then give up the idea of running away?" She bestowed a graceful smile upon me, as if we were taking afternoon tea. Her platinum blond hair sparkled in the weak light of the stray sunbeams that had pushed their way through the early winter clouds.

In the Demon Empire, spring had just begun and it was the height of the rainy season. Yet in the Simaron region, autumn was already drawing to a close. Maybe we found ourselves at the opposite latitude now? By Earth's standards, that would be the simplest explanation for the difference in the weather.

"Don't you think the sky looks creepy?" I asked.

"Why do you say that? It's just a little cloudy."

"You can probably decide whether it's normal or not better than I can. Hopefully there's no earthquake or other catastrophe waiting for us."

--

A conversation about the weather was just what we needed; finally we were able to discuss a less tender subject.

At our first meeting, we had both pretended to be mute. When Flynn Gilbit took off her mask and her real countenance was revealed, a gorgeous woman whose words and behavior were full of confidence suddenly stood before me. But she didn't look strong in the literal sense. Her voice was full of sweetness and there was a mischievous shine to her eyes.

Disguised as her husband, Flynn had been ruling the princedom and was overwhelmed with responsibilities. But perhaps her decisive nature made her the perfect person to stand at the top of the state, I thought.

Human beauty looked different from the demonic beauties like Lady Anissina, Madam Cherie, and Gunter. If demons were the results of a brilliant artist, then Flynn seemed more like an actress.

Although this woman had toyed with me unpleasantly, I was able to keep my anger towards her in check. I felt kind of like an athlete obsessed by his sport whose head has been turned by some female journalist or female star.

But Flynn had imprisoned me for three whole days and condemned me to a starvation diet. That was hard. And to cap it off, there were always these fantastic dishes trotted out to me that made my mouth water. I had no choice but to wait it out. It's too bad that an empty stomach can't save the world -- I'd have been a hero several times over.

All this only because of Gunter's warning:Don't eat any food that a foreigner has offered you -- it might be poisoned!

At one point I threw the bread and meat out the window and in no time at all, a sharp-eyed bird spotted it and started to pick at it. And then came the showstopper! The bird let out an unusual, tortured cry and flopped over on the windowsill unconscious. Its eyes were half closed and its tiny tongue even jutted out a little from its open beak. What a tragedy! I heaped blame upon myself with countless reproaches.

Please forgive me, little bird. I simply didn't think. I will definitely take good care of all your surviving dependents. You can have all my savings! Wait a second, what was that just now?!

All of a sudden the victim I'd thought dead picked himself up and flew off, livelier than ever.

So the food hadn't been poisoned, it'd just been laced with a sleeping drought. Captain Crusoe needed to be sedated so he didn't make any trouble.

How the heck did it end up like this, anyway?

--

One lovely day, I, Yuri Shibuya, was flushed away down a toilet into another world. There I was informed that, in reality, I was nothing less than the 27th Demon King!

I am equipped with (supposedly) formidable magical powers, and my numerous subjects, who all look scarily gorgeous, love and revere me.

As king, naturally I have all sorts of problems to manage, but the position also has its perks. My sweet little adopted daughter, for example. And everyday life in Blood Pledge Castle is also pretty nice. I almost could have gotten used to that, but then a catastrophe destroyed it all.

The Demon Empire is stuck in the middle of a terrible crisis. A mysterious attempt was made on my life. Lord von Kleist was knocked from a horse and Lord Weller's left arm was cut off. We were separated and I had no idea what had happened to either one of them. Lady Anissina would definitely see to my schoolmaster. And Conrad... the memory of the explosion and Conrad's apology came back to me again. I balled my hands into fists. I was rock-solid convinced they had both survived!

It was simply impossible that Conrad might not be alive any more. After all, he had promised me that he would always be there for me when I needed him.

My return trip to Earth misfired. I landed in the ocean and washed up on human territory. As I came back to myself, I had to accept that my Japanese friend Murata had also been snatched. It was kind of my fault that he was sitting in the other carriage now.

Flynn Gilbit had swallowed our fairy tale of lies that I was a descendent of the Wincotts. Later she stuck both Murata and me in solitary confinement. My buddy still believes he's on Earth. I have to safeguard him from even worse dangers, because Im the only one who can protect him.

As the third day of my prison life dawned, my early panic receded. I could take in my surroundings in a more or less composed fashion.

I already had a few ideas for escape plans, but their chances of success were pretty remote. The window was large and I could open it, but there was no veranda or balcony. My room was on the fifth floor. I had already tried to craft myself a makeshift rope, but ripping the bedsheets into straight strips just didn't want to work for me. In the end, I sat before a mountain of crescent shaped shreds. They were shaped like the markings on an Asiatic black bear. For the first time in my life, I regretted that I'd spent all my time with baseball, to the exclusion of all else.

Nearly 58 hours had passed; it was almost noon. Sunlight flooded the room. I opened the window as wide as it would go and shivered. I leaned my body out the window and stared around. Six, perhaps seven windows down from me, my friend also sat in the window and warbled an opera in happy-go-lucky fashion. Thanks to his radical image change, his head was covered in artificial blond. Despite the blue contact lenses that were supposed to give the necessary emphasis to his new image, the results were unconvincing to me.

"Murata!" I needed to get his attention, so I waved one of the bedsheet shreds around wildly.

"Yoo hoo, Shibuyaaaa!" Murata waved his arms in big circles happily.

Damn it, what was "Yoo hoo" supposed to mean in this situation?!

"Hey, everything okay?" Murata called.

"Okay?! Are you nuts? Look out, I'm coming over to you."

"Ahhh, but..." Murata eyed the wall up and down. After he'd convinced himself it didn't have any protrusions, he continued, "Unless you're Spider-man, that's not going to work. There's nothing for you to hold on to. If something goes wrong, you'll be able to call yourself Splatterman."

"Jeez, now is not the time for stupid jokes! Listen to me!" I climbed up on the bronze windowsill. "We have to get out of here as soon as possible!"

Murata leaned out of his window as far as he could. "Very inconspicuous, with you yelling like that."

"Your friend is right, my dear Captain."

I was grabbed by the belt. Flynn stood right behind the butler. She furrowed her eyebrows theatrically and shrugged her shoulders.

"Why don't you do us all a favor and keep calm? We don't want anything to happen to you," she said.

"In you go!" grunted the butler and tugged mightily on me, making me land on the floor.

Flynn continued, "I separated you from your friend so I wouldn't need to worry about your magical powers. But not only are you refusing any food, you're also placing yourself in mortal danger in your escape attempts! You won't survive long at this rate." More to herself, she added, "These soldiers, always with their stubborn ideals!"

Huh? What was that? Soldierly ideals? Oh yeah, I was pretending to be a captain. But I still felt offended. To lock up a Japanese pacifist and then also to characterize him as a soldier, how insulting.

Flynn's delicate fingers carefully closed and locked the window with a key.

"Baker, please prepare the carriages. We can't wait any longer for the escort to arrive. For your sake, Captain Crusoe, it's best if we bring you to the motherland as soon as possible. Now that Maxine knows the secret of the mask, troops from Small Simaron could arrive at any moment to occupy Carolia."

"But, Milady,keep in mind..." the butler tried in vain to protest.

"We'll be able to bring a number of soldiers with us, anyway, if we take those stationed here from Simaron. It's only going to be critical in the regions where the Steppe Brotherhood might turn up. It's important that we put those areas behind us as soon as possible. After that, we'll be more or less secure."

So much for the prologue. Now we were traveling in four carriages into the so-called "motherland" -- with me wedged in between my two Beefy Seatbelts.

By contrast -- I'd had to put up with his good mood when we embarked -- Muratas seatbelts were two powerful Amazon women!

Why is it always me?!