About “Hataraku Maou-sama: The Devil is a Part-Timer” in a few words:

Hataraku Maou-sama: The Devil is a Part-Timer is an anime series that tells the story of Satan, who is forced to flee his world and take refuge in modern-day Tokyo. In order to survive, he takes on the guise of a part-time worker at a fast food restaurant, and soon finds himself caught up in the everyday struggles of human life. As he tries to make a new life for himself in this strange new world, he must also face off against his old enemies and protect his new home from destruction. The series is known for its humor and its unique take on the classic story of good versus evil.

Meet the characters from Hataraku Maou-sama: The Devil is a Part-Timer

Miki Shiba

Okay, Miki is that quietly bright friend who kind of glows in the background — sweet, awkward, and suspiciously resilient when push comes to shove. She’s the “I’ll bring snacks to the emergency meeting” type but also the one who stares like she’s solving a mystery in her head (sometimes about sandwiches, sometimes about the fate of the world, honestly). Low-key observant, a little forgetful, and definitely more stubborn than she lets on; she’ll apologize a lot and then single-handedly ruin your perfectly laid plan by caring too much. Also, tiny detail: I’m pretty sure she has an obsession with cute stationery and also can recite one extremely obscure prophecy that she learned once and then forgot — in classic Miki fashion.

Maou Sadao

Oh man, Sadao is everything — a proud Demon Lord trapped in part-timer clothes, equal parts tyrant and fast-food manager, and 100% chaotic-adulting energy. He’s always three steps from world domination and seven steps into stocking the freezer at MgRonald’s, which is both hilarious and kind of endearing; he orders people around like he’s running a kingdom but will also cry over a comically bad TV show. Deep down he’s cunning and surprisingly loyal, but also loves cheap cola, smoothies, and the honor system of workplace punctuality (???). Basically: loud, dramatic, secretly soft, and somehow the most relatable dictator you’ll ever root for.

Emi Yusa

Emi is the intense righteous Heroine with zero chill but a soft spot that sneaks up on you — sword-wielding moral compass by day, grumpy roommate by night. She’s disciplined, blunt, and terrifying in a fight, yet she’ll freak out over a slightly warm croissant like it’s a betrayal; very dramatic, very dedicated. There’s this whole confident-totally-in-control exterior but then she hoards tiny comforts (plushies? bread? coffee mugs — definitely coffee mugs), which makes her human in a way that is both frustrating and adorable. Also she hates Maou with a passion, except when she doesn’t, and then she’s super awkward about admitting it — classic.

Hanza Urushihara

Urushihara is the lovably sleazy weirdo who reads too many manga and somehow also has weirdly solemn, almost mystical moments — pervy, playful, and secretly kind of wise? He’s the kind of guy who will make an inappropriate joke and then save your life two scenes later, so you never fully know what you’re getting. He has this whole “don’t take me seriously” vibe but also a knack for unexpectedly deep support, plus he collects snacks like they’re relics and probably has three different emergency cosplay outfits in his backpack. Contradictory? Totally — a flirt, a philosopher, and a friend who cries at the wrong parts of movies.

Shiro Ashiya

Shiro is the super-organized, paper-perfect right-hand who manages the chaos around Maou with a calm, slightly exasperated grace — basically a living to-do list that’s also really, really cute. He’s formal, efficient, over-prepared (he labels everything, I swear), yet has this tiny soft spot that breaks through in the dumbest little ways — like secretly buying ridiculously girly snacks or losing at board games and pouting. He’s loyal to a fault, often the dutiful adult in the room, but also kind of baffled by modern appliances even though he is the one who owns three different cleaning schedules. Basically the perfect grumpy roommate/manager combo who might have a plush collection he pretends is “for morale.”

Albert Ande

Albert comes off like the archetypal noble hero — upright, composed, and a little theatrical — but there’s a warmth and occasional goofiness underneath that I love. He’s the type to deliver a booming speech about justice and then quietly volunteer to organize the after-party (no one expects that part, right?), and he takes protocol seriously while secretly enjoying terrible pop songs. Very polished, very commanding, but sometimes bafflingly casual about huge diplomatic crises and oddly sentimental about small, stupid things like napkin folding. He’s honorable to the bone, occasionally a bit pompous, and somehow endearing when he lets his guard slip (which is rare, but when it happens — chef’s kiss).