Mastore 102 - Dumpster

Magic Realm Convenience Store – Ch. 102

Pure Meeting with a Chihuahua (1)

No matter how skilled a convenience store clerk may be, they’re still human, and humans make mistakes. For example, not noticing when customers arrive because they're distracted...

To prevent this, every convenience store in the world has a bell installed at the entrance, and convenience store clerks’ hearing has continually developed and evolved to match the frequency of their store's bell sound.

I’m no exception. In my little over a month of work, while texting Manager and doing other things, I’ve never once missed the sound of the entrance bell. Really. No, a person getting paid to serve customers wouldn't dare miss that—

“That.”

"What are you referring to... are you perhaps talking about the entrance bell?"

“What else would I be talking about?”

“The entrance bell got it. Yes.”

"I reattached it."

The store's entrance bell is fixed with a magnet. It’s fixed to the metal part at the top of the door.

Looking at where the bell had been, I saw that it had been moved way further to the left than before. Seems this Chihuahua picked it up and reattached it. Though I can hardly believe it...

“I’m sorry, Customer. Really.”

I apologize sincerely. No matter the reason, failing to notice a customer is 100% the clerk’s fault. I have no excuse even if I get chewed out.

After bowing my head, I was mentally preparing myself as I wondered, ‘I guess I’ll have to check for rabies vaccination tomorrow’. The Chihuahua, who had been staring down at me, suddenly spat out a remark.

“Pay more attention, punk.”

“Uh....”

Wait, why is this guy being so sweet today? Not even growling like usual?

The Chihuahua who’s normally a raging hot dog is acting like sweet consommé right now. The cursing's consistent as always so I might have let it slide, but...

(Consommé a type of clear soup made from richly flavoured stock or broth that has been clarified, a process that uses egg whites to remove fat and sediment)

“Customer. Did something bad happen to you?”

Is this guy terminally ill or something? I couldn’t hold back my curiosity, though I didn’t expect an actual answer. But after a moment, the Chihuahua grumbled under his breath.

(D: They say a person changes completely when they are about to die.)

“About to happen....”

“Yes?”

“It’s about to happen, I said. That damn boss ruined my project.”

I think he mentioned before that his company's boss is a Beagle Kobold…

“That Beagle bastard went off to play indoor golf, living up to his breed’s reputation…”

"Ahh..."

“And now I’m about to be stuck redoing two weeks of work…”

“....”

"Shit."

Now I understand why this Chihuahua is so calm today.

It's not that he's experiencing a change of heart reflecting on his usual behavior, but he simply has no reason to be angry at me in the first place. t a clear target for his anger.

Right now, his mind is probably filled with images of throwing durians at his Beagle boss’s face. I understand well, having often imagined puncturing my boss's car tires when forced to work overtime.

In fact, I’ve imagined it quite a lot. As I watched him with pity, the Chihuahua suddenly tossed a question at me.

“You punk.”

"Yes. What can I get you?"

“You sell baseball bats here?”

"...We get them occasionally, but I can only sell them if you sign a confirmation that you’ll use them strictly for baseball.”

"Forget it then."

I made up a plausible excuse, and the Chihuahua seemed to realize it was unlikely, so he didn’t press further. Instead, he asked something completely different.

“What do you do at times like this?”

He seems to be asking how I handle work stress. In my case, there’s one method that’s both effective and convenient.

"I just sleep."

"Why."

“Because I have to go to work. If I don’t sleep enough, I’ll be tired.”

My previous job had frequent overtime. The days without overtime in a month could be counted on one hand.

If I had other options, I would’ve thrown my resignation letter in my boss’s face, and if I had money, I would've somehow enjoyed outdoor leisure activities on weekends after enduring the weekdays. But I had neither.

So the free alternative I chose was just sleeping. Whether it was a weekday or weekend, sometimes I’d drink a beer and sleep, other times I’d leave the TV on and sleep…

“Do you have friends?”

"Had them, but gradually faded away.”

It was a time when even climbing stairs was exhausting. Having drinks with friends was out of the question.

So after abandoning my social health in favor of preserving my mental and physical health, I found that just collapsing into bed turned out to be a surprisingly decent way to relieve stress.

As soon as I finished explaining, the Chihuahua responded.

"I'm not sleepy now."

“I wasn’t telling you to do the same. It’s up to you, Customer.”

I only answered because he asked. Whether he prints a Beagle's photo on a punching bag and beats it up, or goes to a rage room to break things, it's his call.

After about a minute of contemplating at the counter, the Chihuahua asked.

"You sell black coffee? Iced."

“You can grab a pack from the coffee display over there. For iced, there are ice cups below—”

"Self-service?"

"All iced drinks are self-service. For hot drinks, I help with the machine."

Thinking he might be trying to cool his head with cold coffee, I rang up what he brought, and the Chihuahua didn't ask about using the machine. He opened the ice cup lid, tore open the pack and poured it in.

After taking a sip, he started unstrapping the bag from his back and said,

"Going to work here for a while."

“Yes?”

“About two hours.”

Why did he even ask how I deal with stress if he’s going to do this? No, that’s not the issue right now.

"Customer, you said you're facing overtime from tomorrow. Aren't you going to sleep?"

“Why do you care whether I sleep or not?”

I'd rather not care, but just for today, I have a reason.

I’ve scheduled a meeting with Elena in 40 minutes at this store. The spot I had in mind is right next to where this guy is looking to sit. The Chihuahua's about to crash what's supposed to be a proper meeting.

“I won’t get in the way of your business, so just leave me alone.”

“No, I wasn’t saying you’d disrupt the store....”

I'm not trying to say I have business to attend to so don't do anything here. How can a convenience store clerk stop a customer from sitting at a table and working? I don’t even want to.

The problem is if that work disrupts store operations. I don't know what field this Chihuahua works in. What if he’s in sales and has an anger management relapse while on a call with a client?

I absolutely won't tolerate screaming and yelling. The convenience store should be a happy place for me and the customers every day.

"So you are worried about me disrupting your business? You punk?"

Now that I hear it, yeah. While I was trying to figure out what to say, Chihuahua answered reluctantly.

"Coding. Security."

“What? Coding?”

"Making a tool."

I can't understand what he means by making a tool, but what? Coding? Security? This guy works in IT?

“It’s a silent keyboard, so it won’t make noise. Happy now, you punk?”

“Coding??”

“If you’re done, don’t talk to me. I need to focus.”

And with that, he took another sip of his coffee, went to the table, and started what looked like work. His laptop screen began filling with graphs, strings of text, and what looked like programs...

The longer I watched, the more baffled I became. Setting aside why coding even exists in a world that uses security magic to ward off demons, this dog-brain doing coding? Codiiiing??

No, for a dev-type coffee-chugger, how does he even type with those? As I watched, I realized he was actually typing with his claws. And he’s faster than me. Anyway.... (아니, 개발바닥으로 커피 잡아 마시는 놈이 자판은 대체 어떻게 치는 거냐. 그렇게 생각하며 쳐다보니 자판은 진짜 발톱으로 치고 있었다. 근데 나보다 타자가 빨라. 여튼….)

"Boss, do you have C batteries?"

"...Yes. C batteries are in the far end of the third corner—"

No matter how absurd things get, work is work.

While serving occasional customers, I side-eyed the chihuahua every five minutes. I was worried he might suddenly snap while coding and start hurling abuse at incoming customers.

But he didn’t. In fact, this was the quietest I had ever seen him.

For thirty minutes, the only thing that changed was the decreasing amount of coffee in his cup. Not a single movement or sound otherwise. If I hadn't witnessed his previous troublemaking, I might have thought ‘Whoever's dog this is, they're quite well-mannered’.

If he’s this calm only when coding, maybe the world would be a happier place if we just made him code 24/7…

While thinking this and continuing work, Elena arrived.

"Bos- Ah! Chan! Hello!"

The entrance bell rang, and she trotted up to the counter, immediately breaking into an eye-smile upon seeing me. Things must be going well for her lately?

“Yes, hello. Did you have a good weekend?”

“I did! Just lounged at home and watched movies. How about you, Chan?”

“I... um....”

I almost told her about the police coming because of the money bag and almost getting beaten up by orcs, but I stopped. It would’ve made both of us feel bad.

“Pretty decent, I guess. Just worked and slept, that’s about it.”

“Oh, so you worked over the weekend too. You must be tired…”

"I am tired, but well, it's work. Did you bring the potion?"

“Yes, just a moment. My bag’s full of stuff…”

As she took off her side-slung bag and carefully pulled things out, they turned out to be a tablet PC and an angular crystal-like reagent vial. The liquid inside was clear, but frost-like patterns clung to the interior.

"Is it okay to bring this out like this?"

“Don’t worry at all! I had it preserved before bringing it out.”

“Preserved? With what?”

"We have resident magicians at the company. Four shifts, three rotations."

Elena explained that there are four mages at her company who manage and monitor the potions, working in rotating shifts. Somehow I can imagine them in white laboratory robes, holding parchment clipboards.

“This vial is actually super cold inside. Want to touch it?”

"No, let me do something first. Make yourself comfortable."

“Yes.”

Elena nodded and started organizing her things while I did a little prep of my own. I discreetly rang up a pack of black coffee and an ice cup, stuck a straw in it…

I put the Chihuahua down next to my laptop. His empty coffee cup had been bothering me for a while.

I thought it was only fair to give him something in return after he’d given me various things over the past month. Plus, I was hoping he wouldn't interrupt while we talked...

"Chan, is that Chihuahua person a customer?"

Elena must’ve noticed him too because she asked as soon as she sat down. I was about to answer when the Chihuahua suddenly spoke,

"I'm a customer, Pink Head."

"Oh..."

“Don’t say my species name out loud. It’s annoying. And hey, punk.”

"Yes?"

“Take my card.”

He pulled out his wallet from his pocket and tossed it to me. Elena, now dubbed Pink Head, was left completely dumbfounded. So I quickly explained.

"He says he won't mind what we do here as long as we don't mention his species name."

"Um... I see. But he just called Chan—"

“He only calls me that, but he doesn’t bite. Let’s just focus on our work.”

I quickly changed the subject and asked what we needed to do today. Elena blinked a few times, pulled out her tablet PC, and answered with a slight blush.

“So, tonight....”

"Yes. Today."

"You need to do something like love with me."

After mulling it over briefly, I asked again to confirm.

“Do what?”

“Something like love. Not actual love, just, you know…”





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