Mastore 131 - Dumpster

Magic Realm Convenience Store – Ch. 131

Even Chihuahua can roll (3)

I waited since he told me to wait. The Chihuahua opened up his laptop, ran a program, and started typing excitedly on the keyboard.

As his paws moved, a map and internet sites briefly appeared and disappeared over a screen full of english text, but no matter how I looked at it, I couldn't understand, so I asked in the middle of it.

"Customer, what are you doing right now?"

"Would you understand if I told you?"

“Nope. But you could try explaining it in a way I might get.”

“Just shut up and wait, kid.”

I sat quietly waiting for 3 minutes as instructed. When it didn’t seem like he was going to finish anytime soon, I poured myself a cup of iced Americano.

The moment I set the cup down on the table, the Chihuahua finished what he was working on and turned his laptop toward me. The screen showed a map densely packed with red dots, to the extent that the original map was barely visible beneath them.

"This is what those fuckers at the Magic Bureau have announced about gate occurrences."

“What—so each of these hundreds of dots represents a gate that opened and closed?”

"Why would I be doing this shit otherwise? Keep looking."

He then pulled up another map, this one with twice as many dots as the previous one.

"This is what those bastards haven't announced yet, a new compilation of everything being posted on SNS."

“Why SNS post... Wait, how'd you even do this?”

"Would you understand if I told you?"

"Ah, yes. Anyway, let's say you used whatever method. So?"

“There are plenty of idiots who brag about gates opening and closing near their houses. Some posts are as recent as three minutes ago, so do you think those lazy kids at the Magic Bureau would have noticed all the things that opened 3 minutes ago?”

He explained that due to the aftermath of gates opening and closing, frozen tuna hail is falling from the sky or fire hydrants are coming alive in various parts of the city center, and people are excitedly taking verification photos and posting them on social media.

According to the Chihuahua, official reports usually depended only on complaints or confirmed reports, meaning the statistics lacked enough samples. As he spoke, he displayed yet another map.

“The more samples you have, the higher your accuracy gets.”

The third map he opened had several additional blue dots alongside the previous red dots.

Counting them, there were eight in total. The Chihuahua poked at a commercial area near one of the blue dots with his claw and continued speaking.

"This is the store where you work. And these are the places where gates have appeared, compiled to narrow down where this core gate or whatever might be. The most likely central points."

“These eight spots, right? Nowhere else?”

"Didn't you say your area has a diameter of 1.5km, you fucking bastard? What, not enough for you, shithead?”

Not too many. It's not like I have a car, and it would take several hours just to check these eight locations. As I stared at the dots on the map, I muttered my thoughts.

"I didn't know you did this kind of work too, Customer."

"What the fuck, am I supposed to go around bragging that I do this kind of work?"

"That’s not what I meant. I just didn’t know. But why are you helping me all of a sudden?"

I thought he would answer as he had up until now, with something like 'Why are you curious about that?' Or maybe 'It's none of your business, so don't worry about it.'

Instead, the Chihuahua stared back incredulously and responded with another question.

“No, you said your store might go bankrupt, shithead.”

“I did say that.”

“If this place goes under, where am I supposed to work?”

Alternatives include cafes, study cafes, and home.

Even if not these places, there are many other good places, so why is he specifically coming to a place that uses plastic chairs? Had he actually been banned from every other place or something?

Thinking about his constant swearing, it wouldn't be surprising if cafés near his house put up signs banning Chihuahuas altogether. The Chihuahua pointed at the map on the laptop screen and asked.

"Can you find that damn gate with this?"

“I’m not sure. I’ll try checking out the spots you marked first, but next... um…”

“Next what?”

"I don't know. It hasn't even been an hour since I took on this job, so thinking and whatnot—"

“Hey, shithead.”

“Why.”

“Is it raining outside now?”

What’s he on about this time? I looked out the display window and, true to the Chihuahua's words, droplets of water had started to form on the window.

While I watched, a sudden burst of rain came and then abruptly stopped. The Chihuahua stared intently at the wet road outside and then abruptly said,

"I’m leaving."

"Just a moment ago you said you'd finish all your work before leaving."

"You fucking bastard, if mold grows on my balcony floor, are you going to pay for it?"

He must’ve left his windows open at home. Honestly, despite genuinely disliking this guy, I felt like today we needed to finish this conversation, but…

But I can’t force him to stay if he wants to leave. I don’t want to see his eyes pop out in anger. Still, I needed to get what I could before he left.

"At least send me those map pictures before you go. I’ll check them out later."

"Ah, I left my laundry hanging outside!!"

"It won’t take long to send the pictures, yeah?"

It seemed it wouldn’t take too long, because despite growling and baring his teeth angrily, he reopened the laptop he was about to close. He opened a notepad and pointed at the screen with one word,

“Type your phone number here, shithead.”

Oh shit, on my first day of work I never would have thought I would end up giving my phone number to this guy...

But given the situation, I had no choice. I typed in my number, and the Chihuahua entered it into a computer messenger and transmitted the photos.

A short moment later, my phone vibrated. I checked, and sure enough, three map images had been sent to me via private chat.

“You get them?”

“Yeah, I got them. If I ask for something else later, can you send that too?”

“What else, and when exactly do you want it?”

"I don’t know yet?”

"This fucking bastard..."

He looked utterly baffled as he closed his laptop, packed it into his bag, and continued.

“If I send it, do you really think you can handle your job then?”

“I don't know, but I'm gonna at least try.”

"Give me a bag. An eco-friendly one."

Why is he asking for bags now?

I wondered, but if a 100-won bag is the condition, it's not a bad deal at all. Feeling generous, I tore off two bags and handed them over. He took one and covered his laptop bag with it.

Then he took the other one and put it over his head.

“Customer?”

"This feels like crap."

If it feels like crap, then don't wear it. The eco-friendly logo on the bag crumpled and straightened in sync with his breathing. If he needed an umbrella, he should’ve just asked for one. Why use a plastic bag instead?

Before I could even ask this, the Chihuahua strode out the front door, and I was left alone. The Americano I had left for him to drink didn't even touch his paw.

So I drank it myself. While sipping through the straw, I briefly wondered what diagnosis this guy would get from a psychiatrist, but nothing particular came to mind.

Afterward, I stared through the shop window, now entirely covered in raindrops. The rain was getting stronger.

In this weather, it would make sense to bring out the carpet and umbrella display stand from the back of the store, but...

"...Eight."

The gaps between the blue dots were quite wide. It would be too late if I started in the morning.

* * *

I sent a message to Manager.

[Please contact me as soon as you see this]

I felt I should let Manager know before leaving the store unattended. I called a few times, but it kept going straight to voicemail.

Afterward, I wrote on a laminated piece of paper that I was going to the bathroom, added my contact information, and stuck it on the front door. Then, I picked out an umbrella from the stand, rang it up, stepped outside, and locked the door behind me.

After putting the keys in my pocket, I glanced around the street.

It might not be the right thing for an employee to make this judgment, but no matter how you looked at it, the street seemed dead for business. It is 11 p.m., normally the time when drunkards and troublemakers start causing a ruckus.

But there wasn’t a single other species in sight. No cars, and not even a single building with its lights on in the food alley. The heavy rain was the final nail in the coffin...

Staying at the store tonight would only make me feel like a salary thief, so I'd better get this done in advance. Before starting off, I checked the map one more time.

"...Seems like it's to the left."

The closest blue dot was to the left, toward the food district. I opened my umbrella and stepped onto the street.

After just one step, rainwater soaked into my sneakers. I ignored the fact that my socks were getting wet and kept walking. Past a bus-stop display showing no scheduled arrivals, past the dimly lit entrance of a subway station.

I walked for about 10 more minutes and arrived at the food district. Most of the drunk troublemakers at the convenience store were probably spawned right here. The restaurants were like barracks, the troublemakers like infected Terrans.

(D: StarCraft thingy)

Because of that, I didn’t have a great impression of this place, but now that I was here, it was quite different from what I had imagined.

Most of the signs are turned off. Barbecue restaurants, beer halls, cocktail bars, karaoke rooms. The only places with lights on were an arcade and a claw machine shop.

It felt desolate. It’s not like this place looked like this every time it rained...

"...Anyway."

I've come this far, so now what do I need to do?

I had thought briefly on my walk here. The reason the professor's emergency committee gathered anti-magic specialists: preventing civilian damage and to find and eliminate the core Gate before it naturally dissipates.

Let's focus on civilian damage first. If a gate had opened and closed around here, there would undoubtedly be some damage occurring somewhere nearby.

According to what was mentioned on SNS earlier, frozen tuna fallen like hailstones might be thawing and flopping around, or as Noona said, cars might be getting flipped over...

Other anti-magic specialists probably have some magical means to flip cars back, but I can't do such manly feats. I'd probably lose in a fight against a thawed tuna, wouldn't I?

So for now, I’ll exclude that and focus on what I can do. Finding the gate.

The professor told me to request personnel from places like the Magic Bureau and the Hunter Association, but that was only to a certain extent. Shouldn't there be some sort of justification for calling in government officials?

All I need to do is create that justification. I didn't know what exactly gates were made of, but I remembered clearly what came out of them—mana stones.

Since magic stones come from inside, gates must be related to magic.

And when it comes to magic, there’s one more thing I can do besides erasing it. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and slowly opened them.

Nothing looked distorted. Not yet.

"No?"

I muttered to the street out of justification. Of course, there was no answer. Was I making a fool of myself because there was no problem in this alley, or had I chosen the wrong approach?

I closed my eyes again. Once isn't enough for evidence.

I nearly fainted from motion sickness doing this before. It was my first practical exam for my license, when I had to check a hundred or so coffins at a glance.

I need to do at least that much. As long as there's nothing to erase, this is the only thing I can do here. I need to produce some result, no matter what. Only then can I convince myself. So.

“Let's see who wins this.”

I clutched my license and opened my eyes.

This time, the scenery around me had completely changed from a moment before. It wasn’t just one spot that looked distorted.

The entire world appeared distorted. The rain-soaked ground, the night sky, all the streetlight.




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