Mastore 168 - Dumpster

Magic Realm Convenience Store – Ch. 168

Even the Ambiguous Guy Gets Close (1)

This was my second time meeting this girl, and we hadn’t even talked for thirty minutes in total. It's an incredibly short time to figure someone out, but…

"A problem? What kind of problem?"

"Stay out of it. It's none of your business."

"Is it a troublesome problem?"

As we continue talking, I'm starting to get a sense of what kind of person she is. The kind who, once she latches onto something, has to see it through no matter what.

“It’s not difficult, and seriously, it has absolutely nothing to do with you—”

“Well, who knows? I haven’t heard what it’s about yet.”

"Why are you interested in a conversation whose contents you don't even know?"

"I need to hear the details to decide if I should be interested or not. Right, Unnie?"

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes, Unnie.”

And feels absolutely no sense of distance when dealing with people. While this is my second time meeting her, it should be Manager's first time, yet she’s casually asking for opinions as if they've known each other since high school.

“...Hmm.”

Manager stared intently at the kid in front of her, as if genuinely considering an answer.

Then her eyes flicked toward the shelf. I followed her gaze and saw a customer approaching with a basket full of items.

The manager opened her mouth as if finally remembering what to say, and in each word I could feel something bizarre that was hard to express in words.

"Being interested is good. I'm interested in you too, you know."

"I'm not interesting enough for you to be interested in though."

“Well, who knows? I haven't heard your story yet, have I?"

“That’s true. What are you curious about?”

"Can you wait a little? We have work to do."

It feels like half the conversation is missing. As if enjoying this exchange, she glance at the approaching customer and ask.

“What else?”

"Name? That's all for now."

"I'm Na Yuri. Should I wait here?"

"Do you think you can? Go sit at that window table for a bit."

I thought she might act up again, but she gave a slight nod at my words and trotted over to the table, placing her bag on it.

Then she sat on the edge of the chair and stared right at us. As I deliberately ignored her and took items from the customer's basket, Manager whispered beside me.

"Her name's Na Yuri, Chan-ah."

"...So it seems."

"Does Chan find that kid very uncomfortable?"

Uncomfortable. It wasn't just because of my first impression of that kid. I simply find anything that I can't understand, no matter how much I think about it, to be uncomfortable. That kid is one of them.

As I silently nodded, Manager continued speaking while scanning the barcode of the item.

"Remember what I told Chan about mages? That they pretend to be logical while being fundamentally illogical?"

It was something the manager had said when I was taking the license exam, and I remembered it well since I had experienced it firsthand during my conversation with the professor. As soon as I heard this, I could immediately guess what Manager meant.

“Then that kid must be a natural-born magician. Pretending to be logical while being illogical."

She’s probably trying to say that girl is a mage. I don’t know how she figured out I’m from another world, but I’m sure some kind of magic is involved.

“Un. But still, from what I can tell, she’s not a bad kid.”

Honestly, I agreed with that too. When I told her to go sit down, she sat there obediently. Though I didn't know why she wasn't blinking at all…

"...I'll go talk to her for a moment."

“Un.”

Unless completely impossible to talk to, I can spin a good excuse. I stepped out from the register and sat in the seat next to her. She turned her body toward me and asked,

“Oppa, aren’t you working?”

"I will. After I send you home first."

“Huh? We didn't finish our conversation from this morning."

"We're going to have that morning conversation now. You, did you use magic on me this morning?"

In this world, using magic to harm another person is a serious crime. I’m not doing this to feed her organic jail beans. I just want her to give it up and each live our own lives.

That's why I lowered my voice to ask, but this kid answered bluntly.

"No?"

“Then... did you use magic?”

“Yes.”

Out of everyone I’ve ever talked to in my life, this kid is hands down the most impossible to communicate with. If something's wrong, you should just understand and correct the context yourself, what's with this 'it wasn't magic on you so no' business....

"What kind of magic did you use then?"

"I don't want to say. That's invasion of privacy."

"Alright, fine, then don't tell me that. Just take a look at this."

As I spoke, I pulled a notebook out of my pocket and placed it on the table. My anti-magic license. The kid stared at it curiously, running a finger over the logo on the cover before muttering.

"Ah, this. I saw them gathering special lecture attendees at the university. They were flooding in."

"If you've seen it, then listen to me, darn it. The conversation keeps going off track."

I jumped in quickly before the conversation could derail again. I have a constitution that’s resistant to magic.

"That constitution is pretty strong. My theory is quite shoddy, but still enough to get a license issued by the country."

“.....”

Simply put, this is it. Your magic and my constitution are in a complete hierarchical relationship. Because I'm a nationally licensed anti-magic specialist.

This is also a fact anyone in this world can know. It's been a while since I got my license, so wouldn't my name pop right up if you go to the Magic Bureau site and search my two characters? It's a national license after all.

"If I wanted, I could block others from using magic entirely. I’ve worked with hunters, helped out pharma companies... even got offered a professorship.”

“.....”

Since I can’t hide it anyway, I went ahead and stuffed it full of metaphorical nitrogen and overpackaged the whole thing. It wasn't much different from bragging, 'Back in my day~', but...

If I can just give the impression that I’m not a pushover, maybe this kid will accept it and back off more readily. After saying all that, I asked.

"So the magic you tried to use didn't work properly. Not because I'm some guy from another world that may or may not exist..."

"That's not it."

"What?"

"That's not what it is."

Her tone was as sharp as if cut by scissors. I stopped talking and looked at her face. There was just one change to her previously expressionless face. Her lips were pressed firmly together.

It seemed like she thought I was lying. I looked at her and decided to ask just one more time.

“So you’re not planning to explain why?”

“No.”

“Not to anyone at all?”

“No.”

"Then fine. Do whatever you want."

After that, I shut my mouth too. Let's try going around.

If there’s some method in this world that could uncover where I came from, I need to know what that method is. I need to know whether other people can use it too.

This kid doesn't seem to have any intention of telling me that method. She just wants to hear what she wants to hear, without any real communication. Same for me. This way, we're just going in parallel lines.

Before listening to the method, I need to find out what kind of person she is. After staying silent for about three minutes, she finally spoke up, seemingly frustrated.

"Why won’t you tell me?"

“Because you’re not telling me anything either.”

"Other than that?”

"...This is only our second time meeting, isn't it? It hasn't even been a full day in terms of dates."

“Right.”

“And the conversations we’re having aren’t the kind you usually have with someone you just met, are they?”

Even as I said it, I wasn’t sure if this was the right approach. No matter what, this kid is a college student, do I really need to start from here?

But it was the right answer. To my question, this kid asked back in a tone suggesting she had no idea what I meant.

“Then.”

"Yeah."

"What kind of conversations do people who've just met have?"

“...It depends on the situation.”

She asked, so I answered. For example, the day of the school entrance ceremony.

Your class for the year gets decided, and you find out who’s sitting next to or behind you. Everyone feels awkward. Or maybe you just want to get closer to someone.

Where do you start? First, you would ask about names, where they live, hobbies. Then, you would look for common ground...

"Why?"

"No, how can you become friends while only having conversations neither wants to have? You don't answer me when I ask what kind of magic you used. Isn't it because you don't want to tell me?"

"It's not that I don't want to tell you. It's just..."

“Then what.”

"...Let's just say I don't want to tell you."

“Fine. Let’s go with that. But then the conversation just dies right there. You don’t want to talk, so you don’t. That’s why we’ve got to find something we do want to talk about.”

Of course, finding the perfect topic with someone you just met isn’t easy. Some compromise is necessary. People’s tastes might overlap, but they’ll never perfectly align.

In this process, immature person go 'Ah, I don't like this one—' and drift apart, while those who can endure that sacrifice become insiders. I was bad at this back in the day so I lived as an outsider.

"So... Oppa, do you have a lot of money at home?"

"What the hell, that's what you pulled out to use as a common interest?"

"Why? Everyone likes money. I like it too, that's why I earned a lot."

"Then you might as well talk about work. If you suddenly bring that up on our second meeting, anyone would think you're trying to scam me."

"But, I've never talked about work before..."

She trailed off and murmured while staring in the direction of the front entrance, and I was starting to get even more confused. When you're in college, don't you naturally talk about what work you'll do after graduating, what part-time job you'll do during vacation?

Now I'm not even sure if this kid is really a college student. As I stared at her, wondering what she was going to say, her gaze was fixed on the main entrance.

"There are a lot of kids, Oppa."

"I guess so. There are a lot of middle and high school students in this neighborhood."

“They’re also very drunk.”

“That’s... what? Why are kids drunk?”

I immediately turned to look toward the entrance. Just like she said, about six customers had gathered in front of the lobby. Two goblins, one orc, one minotaur, and two centaurs.

Since those races naturally have aged-looking faces, I couldn't tell how old they were, but I could definitely tell they were drunk.

Because the orc was carrying a centaur on his back. The other one had a minotaur on its back, and unable to bear the weight, was crawling around the convenience store floor on all fours.

"Wh- Why aren't we going to the after-party and we're here?"

“We’re here. We’re already here, aren’t we? Boss, table for six.”

“This is a convenience store, you little shits....”

One goblin, who seemed less drunk, was looking down at his friends with a pathetic expression, but judging by his subsequent actions, that goblin wasn't in his right mind either.

He approached Manager who was watching them with interest, then took out his wallet and asked for cigarettes.

"Boss. Just give me three packs of Ones."

"Mm...."

"What. Should I show you my ID?"

"No, I’m already looking at it. Your high school student ID."

The goblin had apparently pulled out its school ID instead of a card. He looked down at the card in his hand at Manager's words, then looked back up at Manager and asked.

"How much will do?"

“Hm?”

"Should I give you more money?"

Seeing that none of the other five were stopping the goblin from doing this, it seemed none of them were in their right mind. Another goblin had already grabbed onto the newspaper rack and fallen asleep.

"I'm going to go send those guys away for a bit."

"We haven't finished our conversation yet."

"Is that important right now? The store’s about to fall apart.”

The only one standing on two feet was the goblin at the register, so if I could just coax him out somehow...

While thinking, I heard the sound of a chair scraping behind me. Looking up, the kid was staring holes through the chaotic lobby.

Her face looked kind of pouty, like she was seriously annoyed those guys interrupted our conversation. I was about to tell her to just stay seated, but she beat me to it.

"A notebook... won't work I guess."

While speaking, she took out her phone, brought it to her ear and muttered.

"I'll make a quick call."





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