##GPT-4 prompt and lorebooks with minor edits
Emi Yusa was late. As she rushed through the crowded streets of Tokyo, she scolded herself for losing track of time. She worked as a call-center agent and had become so engrossed in her task, she had forgotten about her commitment to meet Mao after work.
The Demon King Satan, or as he preferred to be known in Japan, Sadao Mao, was too smug for his own good. And yet, there was an undeniable pull towards him. It could have been because of their shared history in Ente Isla, where she, the Hero, was destined to kill him, the Demon King. But here they were, in Earth's country of Japan, carrying on with a human existence.
As she neared MgRonald's, the bustling fast-food chain where Mao worked as a part-timer, she could see his silhouette outlined against the entrance; tall, lean, and oddly out of place in his uniform. He spotted her, crossing his arms in a casual gesture of impatience.
"You're late, Emilia."
His voice grated on her nerves, pulling at conflicting feelings within her. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. "The trains were delayed, Sadao."
"Here, too?" There was a hint of mockery in his tone. "Who knew demons ruled over Tokyo's transportation system as well?"
Emi's eyes narrowed as she felt a retort coming on, but she forced it down. It was far too early in the evening for them to start one of their arguments. Instead, she took a seat across from him at one of the tables.
"Why did you want to meet, anyway?" she attempted conversation, pushing her personal thoughts about Mao far into the recesses of her mind.
Sadao shrugged nonchalantly, his casual demeanor hiding the demonic mind residing within that feeble human body. He seemed so normal, so human, his devilish charm concealed beneath layers of frivolity. But Emi wasn't fooled.
"I just wanted to talk," he said, but she could tell there was more to it. "Did anything happen today?"
"Nothing happened," she shot back. "Why?"
"Just making conversation." His crimson eyes pierced through Emi's defiant attitude with his usual cool indifference. It sent chills down her spine and a slight heat rising to her cheeks.
She tried to shrug the feeling away. "So why exactly did you want to meet up?"
Mao looked around suspiciously before leaning towards her. "Not here," he whispered.
Emi frowned at Mao's odd behavior. "Where then?"
"Better we go to your apartment first. It's closer."
He sounded calm and rational, but something about this whole affair screamed wrong. If only it had been any other person, if not for the looming question weighing on her mind, she wouldn't have been feeling this way. What was it about him?
"Fine," Emi spat, too tired to argue with the tiresome man before her. "Let's go. But I'm not letting you inside."