Mastore 90 - Dumpster

Magic Realm Convenience Store – Ch. 90

Fast-track promotion, I'll give it a shot (1)

Tomorrow’s Sunday, so why are they doing construction? What were they doing on weekdays?

With that question in mind, I left work and showed up ten minutes before my shift the next day. As soon as I entered the convenience store, the first thing I saw were furry creatures. Seven dwarves.

“Change, please.”

"Yes, you mean Change Secret?"

"Hill, one pack."

"Yes, I'll get that for you."

One thing about dwarves—they speak absurdly short sentences.

Wonder how these dwarfs handle wedding ceremonies. ‘Are you two in love? OK, the ceremony is over’, Something like that?

Anyway, since Manager looked like she had everything under control for now, I went to grab my uniform, but when I got back to the counter, I was a little concerned about the attire of these yangban. They were all in construction worker gear.

Given the circumstances, these guys seemed to be today's road construction crew. But what these yangban were saying was a bit odd.

"Got makgeolli?"

“Yes, it’s over there in the dairy section, toward the corner. Could you check there?”

“Got it.”

Then they all crowded over to the makgeolli section, grabbed a bottle in each hand, and while standing in line, started having this kind of conversation,

“Deadline?”

“2 a.m.”

"Heavy machinery?"

“That guy who lost the bet.”

"Good. The bet?"

“Speed.”

I'm not sure if this could be called a conversation, but I tried to piece together the clues. First... ‘Deadline?’ probably refers to the road construction.

‘2 a.m.’ likely means they have to finish by then. ‘Heavy machinery?’ probably means they need to decide who won't drink since operating heavy machinery while drunk would be driving under influence. ‘Loser of bet’ suggests they'll decide through a bet, and the bet seems to be about shot-taking speed...

But wait, if the loser of the drinking contest must man the heavy machinery, doesn’t that mean everyone ends up drinking anyway? Does that even make sense?

The more I thought about it, the harder it was to understand the situation. But Manager’s reaction as she rang up the makgeolli was as calm as ever. After selling fourteen bottles to the seven dwarfs, Manager started fiddling with the POS machine.

After a few seconds, she turned to me and asked,

“Chan. How many bottles of makgeolli do we have left?”

“Just a moment.”

I went to check and counted exactly three bottles left in the corner. After moving them to a more visible spot, I reported back.

"3 bottles remaining, Manager-nim."

"That's a relief. I heard the barcode beep twice, thought I might have made a calculation error."

“Manager-nim, can I ask something?”

“Un.”

These dwarfs obviously heading to construction work, so isn't it a mistake to sell makgeolli to these people? How are they supposed to work after drinking?

I thought this was an obvious question, but according to Manager said it wasn’t.

"Dwarfs actually become more clear-headed when they drink."

“Ah… there were a few like that in my world, too.”

I had met people who would spout nonsense when they were sober, but once they had a drink, they would speak calmly and become much more composed. When I asked them why, they said it was just their drinking habit or whatever.

But those guys didn't take that as a license to down soju bombs right before giving presentations. Blood alcohol concentration is like a ‘credibility index’—the higher it goes, the less believable your words and actions become.

“But if they cause an accident, wouldn’t they face harsher punishment?”

"That would be true, but I've never seen dwarfs cause accidents while working."

“Huh....”

“And besides, they said they’re only having one bottle. That much wouldn’t even register in their system.”

Apparently, it takes about 20 bottles of makgeolli to raise their blood alcohol concentration by 0.01%. The minimum threshold for drunk driving is 0.03%.

This heavy drinking tolerance is almost like a racial trait, akin to succubi or goblins, so it is said that in workplaces where dwarves work, they are generally tolerated as long as they do not drink alcohol in buckets.

Even so, I couldn’t help but wonder if it still violated some law. But I decided to leave it at that. Those dwarves must know what they’re doing if they’re acting like this.

Having reached that conclusion, I had nothing more to say, so I changed into my uniform and received the handover shift. There wasn’t much going on at the store, except for one thing to note.

“Chan-ah. See that general trash bag by the utility pole over there?”

Manager pointed outside. Sure enough, there was a single general waste bag, leaning against the pole just outside the front door. A 20-liter one.

“I see it. But that’s not where we’re supposed to dispose of garbage, is it?”

“Nope. Sometime around 3 p.m. today, it just showed up out of nowhere.”

Our convenience store is pretty big, so we generate quite a bit of trash. On busy days, we can easily fill two 100-liter garbage bags.

That’s why every night, around 2 a.m., we lock the door and walk about 30 meters to throw the trash into the designated disposal area.

After trudging over to throw out garbage and dusting off your hands, there's a sign clearly visible when you look up: 'Violation of garbage disposal location will result in a 100,000 won fine.'

“Should I take care of that? People might think we dumped it.”

A garbage bag leaning right against the utility pole in front of the convenience store. It looks exactly like garbage illegally dumped by a night shift worker too lazy to walk far. However, Manager shook her head.

"I think... it's better not to touch it right now."

"I don't know. It looks bad..."

“That’s true, but think about what might happen after we remove it. The person who dumped it might come back, see it gone, and think, ‘Oh, they clean it up if I leave it here.’ Right?”

Manager's opinion was that this would happen eventually, no matter when, and leaving it there would at least confuse that person. Hmm...

“Aren’t you being too lenient on whoever dumped it?”

“Is that so? But there’s another reason.”

"What reason?"

When I asked, Manager stuck out her mouth and grumbled in response.

"As Chan knows, my convenience store isn't a garbage dump."

“I know that.”

"And that's not Chan’s job either. The person who dumped it should take it back."

“That’s true too.”

Her tone was strangely sharp. Though it wasn't showing on her face, Manager seemed quite angry about that garbage bag.

“So, Chan, don’t move it and just leave it there. There’s a chance the person who dumped it might come back, right?”

“Come back to pick up the trash they dumped?”

“That, or maybe to dump more trash.”

I thought it was a slightly emotional response for Manager, but…

It wasn't an entirely impossible story. The person who illegally dumped the garbage might have accidentally made eye contact with the waste collection bin on their way home.

In that case, they might come back out of guilt. Even if they didn’t, I had no intention of aggravating an already irritated Manager. Honestly, whatever, I just want to chill fr fr lol.

(Chan literally using slang.)

“If they do come back, what should I do? Should I open a pack of table salt?”

“Sprinkling salt seems a bit much. Just give them a warning.”

With that, the handover was complete, and Manager left for the day while still pouting slightly. I counted cigarettes and cash on my end, and after finishing my tasks, just sat quietly waiting for customers.

But it was quiet.

Sunday night shifts are usually like this. This store’s location mostly draws office workers, and it’s rare for office workers to plan drinking parties or outings on a Sunday night....

Tonight, though, there was another reason. After sitting for about 20 more minutes, I got so bored I stepped outside to get some fresh air and looked down the street.

Far away, I could see the dwarfs who bought makgeolli earlier. Seven of them.

All seven wearing safety helmets and doing their own jobs. Setting up traffic cones, putting up caution tape, blowing into makgeolli bottles, driving trucks or rollers….

The dwarf driving the truck looks like he's eaten something nasty. Looks like the guy lost the bet.

Anyway, with the road construction blocking the street and no cars passing through, customers are naturally reduced. Pedestrians, too, wouldn’t want to walk down a street with ongoing roadwork.

Since the construction would last until 2 a.m., it looked like tonight would stay quiet.

While I was watching the construction site, I realized there was someone other than the seven dwarves. A person in a police uniform, whistle in their mouth, and hat off.

Looks like a police officer out for traffic control. With not a single car around, that officer must have it easy...

Wait, isn’t that a police I know?

Half-gold, half-black hair, pointed ears. Their tired-looking eyes were visible from their profile. The name was…

“Officer Iruel?”

That’s it. The elf officer. I had barely murmured her name, almost to myself, but the moment I did, the elf officer whipped their head around to look in my direction.

Then started staring at me intently. When I made eye contact, she picked up the baton at her waist and began tapping it lightly against her head.

Finally, as if something had clicked, she strode over toward me. Walking up to the front door where I stood, she tilted her head slightly and asked:

“Did you call?”

“Uh… no, not really.”

I had only muttered reflexively because she looked familiar.

She nodded in understanding. Then gazed at me for a moment before pulling out a cigarette pack from their uniform chest pocket and opening it. Only the filter was left.

"...One pack of Red, please."

“Yes.”

He followed me inside as I opened the door, and I rang up a pack of cigarettes and handed it to him. The moment she received it, she deftly tore off the plastic and paper packaging and stuffed it into her pocket.

“Here, let me take that. I’ll throw it away for you.”

“It’s fine. Have you been well, Boss?”

Her voice carried about 10% monotony and 90% exhaustion. Shouldn't you be worried about yourself before asking about me?

"I've been doing alright. How about you, Officer—"

“No one’s come around causing trouble, have they? Like the Jungin?”

The last time I had seen this elf officer was because of those Jungin troublemakers. They had taken a table, stripped off their shirts, and caused a ruckus. It had gotten bad enough that I tried to step in.

The elf officer had arrived in the middle of the chaos and tried to mediate, but it didn’t go well. It was because a variable occurred along the way forced us into the explosive ending route.

It turned out those Jungin troublemakers were illegal immigrants with forged magical passports, and I blew up those passports. Right after, the elf officer ended up starring in a real-life action movie, single-handedly subduing the Jungin.

“I don’t think anyone’s shown up yet. But what happened to those Jungin?”

“Deportation. They’ve been barred from re-entry for the next 10 years.”

“Oh....”

Her response was razor-sharp. After finishing her short explanation, she gave me a slight bow.

“I’m sorry. I should have stopped by to tell you in person.”

"No, well. You must be busy."

"I should have also thanked Manager-nim here for the potion..."

“She probably wouldn’t mind? She’s more likely to thank you for using it.”

“Is that so? If you see her later, please pass along my thanks.”

I said I would. Then, another silence.

Feeling awkward, I glanced up at her hair. By now, it had turned about 20% golden and 80% black.

Manager once told me that elves’ hair turns black depending on their stress or fatigue levels. Thinking about this, it means this elf is currently about 80% close to collapsing.

While there were things I could say, with the elf in this state, I felt I should bring up something more positive to lighten the mood.

Asking something like ‘Is it okay for you to not be working outside right now?’ No, that's not it. Hmm...

“Oh, Officer. Don’t you get any rewards from the station for catching illegal immigrants? Like a vacation or something?”

“Vacation? That’s the first time I’ve heard that word. What is that?”

“Uh… you haven’t been given one? Not even anything?”

"If you're asking what I've received..."

She paused for a moment, as if considering, then answered in a self-deprecating tone.

“I got a promotion. And a heavier workload.”

“Oh wow, your pay grade went up? That’s great new—”

“Traffic Safety Division, Information Management Division, Children and Youth Division, Criminal Investigation Division, Cyber ​​Crime Investigation Division, Security Division, Detective Division, Safety Planning Division...”

What? What divisions?

“…And Equipment Management Division.”

“......”

"That's what I've been assigned. Thanks to you."


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