Mastore 99 - Dumpster

Magic Realm Convenience Store – Ch. 99

Business isn’t going well because the car is too big (4)

A lot of thoughts came to mind. Like how these yangban know drunk driving is wrong yet still park their car in front of a 24-hour convenience store after drinking, or if they're here as some corporate spy for a competing convenience store, or if they're looking for a fight, and so on.

There were a few more things, but I swallowed them all. I had a rough idea of ​​what he was trying to say to me. Oh? This guy’s talking back to me? That pisses me off…?

I don't understand how asking someone to move their car could possibly be irritating, but whatever. Not all the orcs who come here are this messed up, so maybe there’s some negative trait attached to their tattoos.

Regardless of their bullshit, there was one thing about orcs I could feel for sure. cs have a strong sense of group belonging.

"Hurry up and get out here, dumbasses! The beer's getting warm!"

“Wait, hold up. What's that clerk punk saying to you?"

"This Boss here wants us to move the car."

“What? The car? Hey, Boss, why are you telling us to move the car?”

As if anger were contagious, the group of orcs started rallying together. I’m not sure if they’ll even listen to my answer, but since they asked…

I explained in as much detail as possible how having half the store blocked for hours does have a meaningful impact on sales, but naturally, it was useless.

“Where do you expect us to move it? There’s nowhere to park around here.”

That’s for you to figure out. Why the hell are you asking me?

“There’s no public parking nearby. Should we go to a paid parking lot instead? You gonna cover the parking fee, Boss?”

“....”

“And we’ve been drinking, so who’s gonna drive? Should we call a chauffeur? We can’t call a driver just to move the car a little.”

As they keep throwing these nonsensical arguments at me, at this point I want to ask them in return. Why don’t they just say they don’t want to do me a favor and be done with it?

It's not like I haven't dealt with people I couldn't communicate with while working here. There were those Jungin where our languages didn't match up and quite a few elves where our blood alcohol levels also didn't match up.

But I can’t figure out what these guys are so upset about. Is it because of that damn soccer? Your team won, so you think you'll win every argument too?

Maybe it’s because my empathy is lacking, but only one thought comes to mind. Trying to reason with drunk, muscle-brained orcs was stupid from the start.

“If it’s too much trouble right now… when can you move it later?”

I gave up on getting them to move it immediately, still need to know when the car’s actually gonna be gone. Even though there are lots of pedestrians outside now, it'll quiet down by dawn, and if they could just move it before the morning rush of customers—

"How the hell should I know?"

“You don’t know?”

“Of course not. We’re drinking all night. Boss, do you drink all night and still wake up exactly when your alarm goes off the next day?”

I did the math based on that. If they’re staying up all night, they’ll probably go to bed around 6 a.m., and since they’re drinking, they’ll need at least 8 hours of sleep.

If it takes 30 minutes to come move the car after waking up, that puts us at 2:30 PM minimum, which is well past the rush hour and lunch hour.

And in the meantime, what the hell are we supposed to do? Just let customers pass by without seeing the store, let them leave because there’s no parking, and just accept that our sales will be ruined?

“C’mon, Boss. It’s not like we’re parking there forever. Can’t you quit yapping about it already?”

“…Right. My apologies. Have a good night.”

I’d done all I could.

Even though these orcs reeked of alcohol and thuggishness, I thought they’d at least move their car 3 meters without complaint. But they don’t even want to do that?

If they won't, what can I do except call the police? Still, calling the police in front of a dozen tattooed meatheads wasn’t exactly ideal. Best to just get them out of here first.

That’s why I told them to take care and tried to end the conversation. But then.

"Oh, you're sorry? Are you really sorry?"

“What?”

“The way you’re talking pisses me off. And what, you think just saying sorry makes everything okay?”

Then… what do you want me to do? Buy you a temporary parking permit or something?

They seem to want something, but I can't figure out what. Did they actually want a parking permit, or were they just looking for someone to mess with?

I opened my mouth to ask, but no words came out. A customer had arrived.

"Everyone outside is just talking about soccer, Boss."

It was the chauffeur elder. Maybe because he hadn’t seen the situation in the store yet, his voice was bright when he first came in, but…

“Boss, do you watch soccer—”

He stopped mid-sentence when our eyes met. Then he looked at the backs of the orc muscleheads, and made eye contact with one orc who turned his head.

He took one last look at the tattoos on their body before muttering under his breath.

"Well now."

I had stayed chill even with these orcs trying to pick a fight, but hearing those two words sent a chill down my back. I immediately asked the elder.

"Customer, is there something you're looking for?"

I wasn’t really asking if he needed help finding something. I just needed an excuse to talk to him. Because I knew exactly what he was thinking, and if possible, I wanted him to drop it.

“Boss, stop rolling your eyes and look this way."

“I wasn’t rolling my eyes on purpose, it’s just—”

I’ve seen the elder throw a punch once before. Second day on the job, when two orcs got into a fight just down at the intersection.

The elderly man had personally arrived then, and it took exactly 2 seconds to harvest 4 corn. It looks like the exact same thing is about to happen now. This place isn't meant to become a Texas cornfield, you know?

(Corn/cornfield (강냉이/옥수수밭) a metaphor for knocking people down, comparing fallen bodies to harvested corn)

Honestly, I’m not sure about this either. Fighting one-on-two and fighting one-on-twelve are completely different things. I have no idea how this is gonna play out, so my best hope is that nothing happens at all….

“So what? Were you about to ask that geezer to report us or something?”

"I haven't said anything yet, just let me talk..."

"Old geezer, huh.”

When the gentleman elder calmly dropped those words, several orcs turned their heads to look at him. Paying no mind to their gaze, he spoke again.

"Boss. How did you end up entangled with these foul-mouthed youngsters?"

It was a declaration of war.

The orcs must have felt the same way. The moment he finished speaking, the orc standing closest to him shot his hand up.

"The hell, what’s this old man just—"

The fist came before the words. The orc reached out to grab the older man’s shoulder, but he reacted instantly. With one hand, he deflected the orc's wrist with his backhand—

“Your hand manners are just as bad, I see.”

Then his other hand strikes the orc's shoulder with the base of his palm. The moment his palm made contact, a clear, crisp sound echoed, and the orc’s arm went limp.

"Huh?"

The orc with the limp arm looked down at his dangling arm in bewilderment. He twisted his body this way and that, but his arm just dangled like an octopus tentacle.

"What's this, what's wrong with my arm?"

"Your shoulder is dislocated. With your mana circulation disrupted, you probably can't feel anything either..."

As he spoke, the older man took off his hat and slowly walked through the group of orcs, handing the hat to me. I took it, but…

“Would you mind holding this for a moment?”

“…Elder, what are you planning to do?”

“I’m just going to have a little chat. It’s a personal matter, so you needn’t concern yourself, Boss.”

He said it the exact same way he did when he carried the van earlier. The same words, but they sound completely different to my ears. Something like an iron resolve that he'll personally take care of these guys...

Right after, the elder clasped his hands behind his back and walked straight out the door, and his gait was so dignified that neither I nor the orcs could fully process what was happening. Is a fight really breaking out? Really?

As silence hung in this state, the orc with the dislocated shoulder asked while dangling his arm.

“So this is what happens when your shoulder’s dislocated?”

His tone suggested he was genuinely asking for an answer. That seemed to snap the other orcs back to their senses because right after, they all started shouting one after another.

"...Catch that crazy old man!"

“Beat his ass half to death! How dare he dislocate a shoulder?"

"Need to crack his skull with an axe to bring him to his senses."

Each of them, fired up with determination, rushed out one by one. Finally, even the orc with the dislocated shoulder slammed the door open with his other shoulder and stormed out.

And so, I was left alone. Wait, did they say they were going to smash his head with an axe? In this day and age?

It was hard to believe. But even harder to ignore. I remembered seeing one of the orcs with a tattoo of twin axes. Isn’t this a situation where I should stop them, even if I have to cling to their legs?

With this thought, I was about to lift the counter partition and rush out when a dwarf entered the store. Why this timing?

“Welcome. But I’m in a bit of a hurry right now—”

“Restroom?”

"No, that's not it. What are you looking for?"

"Lighter."

A lighter shouldn’t take long…

"Lighters are here. Where I'm pointing with my finger."

"Which one's good?"

"If you're preparing for typhoon season, get a turbo lighter. Otherwise, any will do. They're all pretty much the same."

“Hmm....”

He dragged out his words, and as if activating some kind of dwarven craftsman spirit, he started scrutinizing the lighter display.

This went on for a solid two minutes. Then he held out a purple lighter and asked,

"Does this one light well?"

“You can try it yourself. But Customer, I really need to step out for a moment…”

“Why?”

I was about to say I needed to stop some wood chopping but swallowed my words. The gentleman elder had appeared in the shop window. For some reason, one of the orcs who had rushed out earlier was following behind him...

The two of them walked into the store. The gentleman elder looked immaculate, not a speck of dust on his suit, while the orc was covered in filth, as if he’d been rolling around in the mud.

“I had a reason to leave earlier, but not anymore. Take your time picking one.”

“No. I’ve already chosen.”

Scanned the barcode, took the thousand won, finished the transaction and gave change. After the dwarf left, I observed the orc's face more carefully, and his expression toward me was unsettling.

“…You little punk.”

“Who? Me?”

"Cowardly calling a chauffeur?"

Why would I, who doesn’t even own a car, call a chauffeur? I was about to retort when the older gentleman let out a small, deliberate cough.

With that single cough, the orc went quiet as if he had swallowed honey, and the gentleman elder trudged over and spoke,

“They said they’ll move the car soon, so you can rest easy.”

"That's a relief, Customer. But what happened to the other orcs?"

"They're sitting outside resting."

Where on the street is there a place to sit? Then I caught his meaning. He was politely saying they were sprawled on the pavement with dislocated shoulders.

It was hard to imagine, but I could kind of picture the orcs flopping around like deflated balloons. Meanwhile, the orc in front of me seemed to have his shoulder intact.

"Then what about this person?"

"Well, this fellow said he's the car's owner."

“Yes.”

“I thought it’d be best to make sure he could still drive…”




|Note

Consider supporting me by subscribing on Patreon for 5$. 

Advance chapters of Magic Realm Convenience Store Worker : 10 Chapters

Also, consider visiting my patreon to check out my other projects