Mastore 51 - Dumpster

Magic Realm Convenience Store – Ch. 51

Convenience Store Worker Practicing Rehearsal (3)

It's not uncommon for pedestrians in front of a convenience store to argue over trivial matters, and sometimes those arguments even escalate into fights. I've witnessed it a few times in my world, too.

I had no way of knowing what triggered those incidents, but the endings themselves were usually anticlimactic. If you watched for about 3–4 minutes wondering why they were acting like that, the police would show up at some point, peacefully mediate, and leave.

But what's this situation now?

I've never seen a passing chauffeur intervene in a fight and go Steven Seagal, nor have I seen the victims of Steven Seagal sitting passed out against the convenience store show window.

Of course, I’ve never experienced anything like this before either. The situation felt more ridiculous by the minute, so in my frustration, I asked the old man first,

“Sir, what do you think I should do?”

“If it were me, I would listen to the full story... but for now, I think it’s best to do as you see fit, Boss.”

Since the confrontation happened right in front of the store, and I’m the one responsible for the store, it seems he's saying to prioritize my opinion. But I need to have a proper opinion to say anything in the first place...

“This, damn it... .”

Shouldn't I report this to 112?

I’m stuck here, and the old man will have to leave if he gets a call. We don't have the leisure to see them off. We don't have that obligation either.

But the more I think about it, that could create a problem in itself. There was a risk of the situation escalating. Didn't Manager say that in this world, causing injury to other species with magic is a pretty serious crime with a heavy sentence?

And coincidentally, there’s a security CCTV camera pointed directly at the spot where they were about to fight.

The footage probably captured them about to use magic on each other, and if the police saw that recording, there's bound to be trouble. If they’re lucky, they might get off with just an attempted crime charge.

However it ends, it will definitely interfere with their future social life. They look around my age at a glance, and isn't it too harsh to have a red line drawn on their ID at an age when they should be active in social life?

"When do you think these two will come to their senses?"

“I adjusted my strength, so I think they’ll wake up in about 30 minutes.”

“Then let’s sit them down for a bit, and once they wake up, we’ll send them home.”

"Will it not interfere with your business?"

“It will. People might start thinking it’s okay to drink here or something. But reporting to the police is a bit..."

When I finished explaining the reason for this opinion, the old man who heard everything answered with a kind face as if he understood.

"I'm sure the young ladies will be grateful for your consideration too."

I don't expect any gratitude, I just hope they don't cause trouble again when they wake up.

Afterward, the old man held the flame woman and the snow woman in each arm and went into the convenience store, carefully sitting them on chairs.

“Mm….”

“Ugh....”

Lying facedown on the table, they groaned alternately, likely feeling the soreness in their necks from the blows. Oddly enough, the way their moans overlapped sounded harmonious. Was this the song of fire and ice or something?

We decided to leave them like this, and there were two more things left to deal with. One of them was the car the flame woman brought.

The flame woman had to park the car in the middle of the road. There were hardly any cars passing by in the middle of the night, but with the engine off and no taillights, it was a perfect situation for a rear-end collision.

I could park it myself if I had to, but unfortunately, I don’t have a driver’s license in this world. When I told him the situation, the old man, who pondered for a moment, asked the collapsed flame woman as if whispering.

"Lady, may I borrow your bag for a moment?"

When asked, the flame woman groaned instead of answering.

"Uhhh..."

“She said yes.”

“I heard the same.”

Even if she wasn't, what could she do? She should be grateful we’re saving her car from getting towed.

After that, the old man took the handbag and went to the car . After getting inside, he looked around and asked me a question.

"Boss, is it okay to park here on the shoulder for a bit?"

“I don’t mind, but the CCTV up there is actually for monitoring illegal parking, so you might get a ticket if you’re unlucky.”

"Very well, then. I’ll take my time and find a spot."

With that, he started the car and drove off. While the old man was out looking for a parking spot, I decided to deal with the other issue: the ice spears scattered all over the sidewalk.

The sidewalk was littered with chunks of ice, some of these ice chunks were as big as my torso, and others were taller than me, so much so that I had to squeeze through to pass them. What are these ice spears? They’re practically landscaping boulders.

Right now, you can just walk on the shoulder, but when morning comes, there will definitely be traffic jams on the sidewalk with office workers going to work. It seems right to clean it up in advance, but I can't smash it with a hammer either. Should I file a complaint to the district office?

“No.”

This was made with magic, wasn’t it?

So if I put my hand on it, it might melt away or disappear with smoke like dry ice. I don’t know why I have to do this kind of thing, but...

"Man, I’m doing everything as a convenience store employee, huh."

Taking a deep breath, I placed both hands on the largest ice chunk. Instantly, the mist started rising from where my hands touched it, as though the ice were absorbing moisture.

My whole body quickly got damp from the steam, but it seemed to be working, so I endured it for now. After about ten seconds, the ice disappeared, leaving only wet pavement behind.

Somehow, I feel like I'm doing a rehearsal of what kind of work I'll do if I get an anti-magic license.

Still, this was a hundred times better than bashing it with a hammer. Next, I put my hand on the nearest ice chunk and got another cold steam on my body...

After about 2 minutes of repeating this, just as I cleared away the very last ice chunk, the old man approached me.

“Hmm…”

But he had an expression full of piqued interest on his face. I waited, wondering what he would say, and after a brief pause, the old man suddenly asked me this.

“Do you perhaps have a natural affinity for anti-magic?”

“Me? That’s, uh....”

I tried to dodge the question, but then I thought there's no point in dodging when I've already passed the written exam.

"Yes. A little. But can you really tell just by looking?”

Rather than that, I was curious about how he brought up the topic of anti-magic right away.

"Roughly, yes. It’s probably because I’ve seen it often enough that I’ve become familiar with it.”

“You see them often? The specialists ?”

“That’s right. I have to go to the hospital around the second week of every month.”

That’s quite an intriguing story. It seemed like there were specialists at the hospital, and if I heard more about it, it might help me figure out how to utilize my constitution better.

“Sir, when you come back from the hospital, could you share what they told you?”

"There's nothing particularly special, but if you're curious..."

“Yes, please go ahead and sit down. I’ll be right there after wringing out my uniform.”

While getting rid of the ice, my uniform had gotten completely soaked.

I wrung out the uniform with my hands to dry it, then went back into the convenience store and spread it out on the empty space of the counter. The old man was sitting next to the table where the two were collapsed and sprawled out.

It seemed like the two would wake up soon, but this wasn’t going to be a long conversation anyway. I grabbed a bunch of gummies from the checkout counter and sat next to the old man, giving him a quick rundown of my situation.

“Sir, I’m currently studying to get an anti-magic license.”

“Did you say that… you were studying?”

“Yes. I passed the written test, but I’m still lacking in the practical part.”

One of the expected practical questions is distinguishing and removing the magic on these gummies. But this. Forget about distinguishing, I don't even know how to remove all the magic except for removing it all at once. What do I do?

After finishing my explanation, I glanced at the old man, and he looked dumbfounded.

“Um, Sir?”

“…Ah, my apologies. After seeing you dispel the ice earlier, I thought you were already quite skilled with your abilities.”

“Skilled? Hardly. It’s all makeshift. Anyway…”

With less than two days until the practical exam, I'm in a desperate situation. How does that person at the hospital work on-site? Whether it's the hospital examination room, the emergency room, or whatever.

When I finished asking, the old man, who thought for a moment, took off the hat he was wearing and placed it on the table.

"You probably know this too, Boss..."

As he began to speak, the silver-white ears that popped up on his head twitched slightly.

“Werewolves like me have to undergo checkups before every full moon, to suppress the wild instincts that start to surge.”

I half knew what he was saying, but half of it was new to me. I knew the rumor that werewolves become ferocious when they see the full moon, but I didn't know it was something that could be solved by getting a checkup at the hospital.

"Yes."

"So we receive a combination of medication and psychotherapy, but if that still doesn't suppress the wild instinct, we go to the anti-magic department. We get a prescription according to the symptoms when the full moon is imminent. For example."

He trailed off as he rolled up the sleeve of his suit halfway, revealing a tattoo-like mark in the shape of a chain wrapped around the middle of his forearm.

"In my case, the symptoms are a bit severe, so I have this kind of restraining pattern tattooed on my arm. It mainly dulls the heightened five senses or suppresses the urge to look at the full moon…”

It seemed that the old man received treatment by having patterns inscribed on his body. In the case of the five senses, a magic that dulls the nerves is cast, and in the case of wanting to see the full moon, they make you want to look at the ground instead.

Moreover, since the severity of symptoms varies from werewolf to werewolf, the most important skill an anti-magic specialist needs is the ability to “apply magic carefully.” If the nerves are dulled too much, the werewolf could end up a vegetable, and if they overdo it with the ground-looking spell, they could end up hunched over all the time.

"This is about all I have to say, but..."

As he trailed off, his ears drooped slightly, and he added:

"You still look like you don't quite understand."

“Yes. Honestly, a little.”

What the old man described sounded more like neutralizing magic rather than erasing it, which is why I felt unsure. To use this method, I would need to be able to use magic, but I don’t have any magic power accumulated.

For me, a congenital mana eunuch, it wasn't even applicable in the first place. Still, at least I learned that I wouldn’t be able to use the typical methods of anti-magic specialists, so it wasn’t completely fruitless….

But no other method came to mind either. As I rubbed my temples, the old man, who had been watching me quietly, cautiously asked:

“Boss, how do you handle your power, if I may ask?”

“At my will.”

To put it simply, it's like a circuit breaker. If I want, I can turn the main power ON/OFF, but I don't know how to shut off individual circuits.

"And... um. You should think of it as a constitution than a power."

“A constitution, is it?”

“Yes. I’ve been like this since birth.”

I've never done a part-time job for a clinical trial at a university hospital, and I've never been struck by lightning, so I guess I’ve been like this since I was born.

After listening and thinking for a while, the old man suddenly brought his hand to his wrist and slowly began to unfasten the watch he was wearing.

“If that’s the case, this might help you understand better.”

"What do you mean?"

I asked, but the old man did not answer. Instead, he gave me a gentle smile, let out a small breath, and as the veins on his now-bare wrist began to bulge….

Fur started growing. Wow, what’s this now?







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