Magic Store 17



Convenience stores don't sell resignation forms.

Resignation forms aren't that complicated of a form to be bought and sold.

You can just write "It was dirty working together, let's not see each other again" in one line, throw it at your boss, and walk out whistling.

After all, you'll never see that person again, right?

I've actually never submitted a resignation form before, so I'm not too sure.

The company I was working at went bankrupt before I could even submit my resignation.

I just answered according to the manual.

"We don't have that."

"Then what do you have?"

"Cigarettes, alcohol, nuts, dairy products, and various other things."

"I'm not hungry though..."

I see.

The smell of alcohol is quite strong, so she must have had some side dishes as well.

Since the staggering succubus shouldn't be left at the entrance, I brought her to a table and asked her to sit down. I'm not sure if this is a convenience store or a temporary shelter for the intoxicated.

As I sat her down, the succubus carefully tucked in her legs and stared at me intensely.

Judging from her eyes glistening with tears, she seemed to be in a very depressed mood.

So, she must be looking for a resignation form.

Of course, it's none of my business.

I have my own work to do.

I returned to the counter, grabbed the customer log and the curse inspection device, and went back to her.

"Mam, if you're going to stay in the store, you need to fill this out."

"Ah... that's from yesterday..."

"And I need to do a curse inspection, so could you please hold out your arm for a moment?"

She obediently held out her arm.

This succubus seems to have a rather complex algorithm when it comes to her drinking habits. It's clear she's not in his right mind, coming to a convenience store to look for a resignation form, but still, she's surprisingly well-behaved.

The curse inspection didn't show any unusual reactions. Looks like I won't have to find any medication for her this time.

"Okay, thank you."

"But sir, are you sure there's no resignation form?"

"There really aren't any resignation forms, but we do have job application forms."

"I'll come back to get a job application form when I quit my job..."

Well, whatever...

Leaving the depressed succubus behind, I returned to the counter and looked out at the quiet street outside.

It was a chilly scene.

The intersection that was bustling just after opening hours had long since become deserted, and there were only a few passersby to be seen if you really looked.

With it being so quiet, it seems like today's shift will end in this tranquil atmosphere.

If only I could send this succubus home.

The last bus has probably already left, so I wonder how she'll get home.

Should I call her a taxi again?

After 10 minutes with no sign of her getting up, I grabbed the hangover relief medication that the Chihuahua had given me earlier and went back to the succubus.

"Mam, are you feeling okay?"

"It hurts..."

"Here, take this. This is something a lot of people who've been drinking look for."

"Ah... but how do I take this?"

Right, you need water to take it. I shouldn't have just brought it over.

There's no water dispenser in the convenience store, so if I want to give her the hangover relief, I'll have to get her water as well. It's a simple task, but...

Since I'm the one who gave it to her, I thought it would be right for me to also get her the water to go with it.

I grabbed a 600-won mineral water bottle from the fridge, poured it into a disposable coffee cup, and handed it to her.

"How much is this?"

"Don't worry about it, it's on the house. I was thirsty too."

"...Thank you."

The succubus slowly nodded her head, then tore open the hangover relief packaging, poured the powder into her mouth, and gulped down the water.

She then shut her eyes tight, seemingly feeling the cold water's impact on her throbbing head. With her voice slightly clearer, she asked me.

"Uh, sir, is it okay if I stay here for a while?"

No, it's not.

I don't have an explicit reason, but I just don't feel comfortable leaving an intoxicated customer alone in the convenience store.

Especially this succubus - she was frying pancakes at the counter, after all.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Shall I call you a taxi?"

"Uh, I'm a bit short on money this month, so I don't have enough for a taxi..."

"Then how did you have money for the drinks?"

“I drank with my coworker… and he bought it. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.”

"Sounds like a good colleague."

After hesitating a bit, the succubus bowed her head to me again and spoke.

"I'm sorry about that."

"About what?"

"The, uh, the thing I did at the counter..."

She stumbled over her words, clearly embarrassed to bring it up.

"You mean pancakes?"

"Uh, yes..."

Her face turned bright red, like a radish. I was actually surprised that she remembered and was apologizing for it. I shouldn't be silently grumbling about it.

"Don't worry about it. Things like that can happen when you're working."

"Have you worked at a job before, sir?"

"I used to. But then the company went bankrupt, so now I'm just wandering around."

"Oh dear, how did that happen?"

Explaining my situation felt a bit awkward.

But anyway, why am I even having this conversation with this succubus?

It's not uncommon for employees to chat with customers at a convenience store.

Usually, it's the older customers who come in and start talking about this and that, or comment on the nice weather and how they just took a stroll and saw the cherry blossoms.

I understand.

They're probably lonely and sad.

As their bodies and minds grow older, the world doesn't seem to age along with them.



Why bother trying to appeal to the world when it won't listen? It's better to grab someone and vent your frustrations, but that costs money for counseling, doesn't it?

So, the easy option is to come to the convenience store. Of course, young office workers don't usually stumble in drunk and do this...

But I decided not to mind.

If I just go along with their talk, the alcohol will wear off and they'll find their way home on their own.

"I feel a bit awkward saying this, since it's not a very pleasant memory."

"Ah, I see... Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"But how were you planning to get home? The last trains have probably stopped running."

"You're right..."

I can't afford to pay for their taxi, I thought, glancing out at the scene again.

Under the dark sky, the only light was from the traffic lights at the intersection. There were a few lit-up bar signs in the distance, but if she had money to kill time there, she would have taken a taxi long ago.

If I told her to just leave, she'd have to wander for hours with no options. With a resigned sigh, I offered, "You're welcome to stay here until the first train in the morning."

"Really...?"

"As long as you don't throw up any more pancakes."

"Ah, no, I won't." The succubus hunched over, her suit rustling slightly, as if her wings were fluttering. Since I'd agreed to keep her company, I decided to ask a few questions.

"So, what kind of job do you have? Oh, is that a weird thing to ask?"

"No, it's fine. I work at a pharmaceutical company."

"A pharmaceutical company, huh? That's a good place. But are you thinking of quitting?"

"Well, it's my first job, and I haven't been there long, but..."

"What kind of drugs do you make?"

"Love potions."

I paused, confused. Love potions?

"The thing is the way my coworkers and superiors talk about love just doesn't align with how I see it..."

I tried to wrap my head around this.

Places that make medicine for digestive issues must know a lot about the human body, and those that make cold medicine at least understand basic virology.

To make love potions, you'd need to know about love itself. I got that much.

But what is love, exactly?

"How do your coworkers talk about it?"

"All over the place. Some find it as difficult as I do, others see it as simple as a game..."

Ah, I see. Some succubi think of the feeling of their pet greeting them at home as love, while others see it as just a game.

"Sounds like there are a lot of succubi at your workplace."

"Oh, we only hire succubus. Given the nature of the product, it just makes sense."

I briefly imagined the sight of a buzzing hive of succubi in business attire across multiple floors of the company building. Sounds like a visual treat.

In any case, the flood of information I've endured has left me utterly bewildered.

After 29 years as a lifelong bachelor, how am I supposed to make sense of this?

But the most amusing part was yet to come.

"The problem is... I've never actually experienced love myself."

As she buried her face in her hands, blushing furiously, being a lifelong bachelor seemed to be a source of shame for the succubus.

It's the same in our world, after all.

I tried to approach this sympathetically.

It's like she's struggling to adapt to her new job, finding the reality quite different from her expectations.

Deciding I should try to offer some comfort, I spoke up.

"I wouldn't have guessed you were a lifelong bachelor, miss. You're quite lovely, if I may say so."

Though I didn't quite understand why she was one, from my perspective she seemed like a top-tier beauty.

As for why I'm a lifelong bachelor, the reason is simple - my face.

The succubus kept her face buried as she replied, "...Thank you, sir."

Worried I might say something more embarrassing; I quickly changed the subject.

"So don't worry too much. I'm sure you'll find a boyfriend in no time, if you want one."

"...About that, sir."

"Yes?"

She hesitated for a moment before asking sincerely, "What are your thoughts on love?"

Ah, geez, I'm a lifelong bachelor too, you know?

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