Magic Store 22



Finally, the cars on the street started to move, but the speed was not fast.

Most probably because one car had been completely wrecked due to the fight with the orcs.

The frustration of the drivers was clearly visible from the way the cars were moving.

Of course, it was none of my business.

The fight seemed to be over, so I decided to take a photo to send to the manager.

In the middle of this, the old man's phone started ringing.

He showed me the screen and asked, "Sir, do you happen to know where this restaurant is located?"

"Ah, you received a call for a chauffeur service, didn't you? I'm sorry, I haven't been working here for long, so I don't really know the area well."

"No, it's alright. I'll just look it up on the map app."

As he continued to fiddle with his smartphone, he glanced at me and said, "If it's not too much trouble, would it be okay if I come here sometimes to rest after my work?"

It's common for chauffeur drivers to rest at the convenience store in front of the intersection.

Since they don't know when or where the next call will come, they use a convenient location as their base.

I didn't mind.

"Feel free to do as you please."

Except for the ones who come the next day after their bender and ask what love is, or start cursing and saying everyone is useless, I don't have a problem with customers.

I also suggested something else to him.

"Sir, do you happen to have any personal business cards?"

"Yes, I do."

"It's nothing much, but I was wondering if you could leave your card with us in case, we need to call a chauffeur service at the store."

There are quite a few people who park their cars in front of the convenience store and then go to the nearby bar for hours without moving their cars.

If we just leave them alone, their cars will be parked there until the next morning.

This means customers who drive to the convenience store can’t find parking and just pass by.

We try to call the car owners and ask them to move their cars, but they make excuses, saying they can't drive because they've been drinking, or that they don't want to spend money on a chauffeur service.

That's why I wanted to get the old man's business card.

It works out well for both of us - we can get the cars moved, and he can get more job opportunities.

It's a win-win situation.

After I explained this, the old man understood and handed me his business card with a smile.

This was the second card I had received from the chauffeur driver.

“I’ll contact you if we need help later.”

“Sure. Please take care of me, sir.”

He bowed slightly and left.

I turned the card over in my hands, rubbing the "chauffeur" part with my thumb.

Of course, it didn't erase.

But you know that old man doesn't seem like a simple chauffeur, somehow...

After that, it became relatively quiet.

Maybe the fight between the orcs sobered everyone up or something.

While serving the occasional customers, I kept an eye on the situation outside.

Suddenly, I heard a whistle blowing - the police had arrived to direct the traffic.

The hair color of the police officer looked familiar, and upon closer inspection, it was the female Elf officer who had visited yesterday.

Her expression was clearly one of exhaustion, and her movements with the traffic baton lacked energy.

The police in this neighborhood really have it rough.

I'm just holed up inside the convenience store, but that Elf must have quite a wide jurisdiction, including the intersection.

And the incidents happening around here are just insane.

I never imagined people would fight to the point of smashing cars.

Can't the world protect me from witnessing such violence?

Come on, world.

After serving a couple more customers, I checked my phone and saw a reply from the store manager regarding the photos I had sent.

[What's up?]

[Was there a fight outside?]

[Are you okay?]

Instead of replying, I called the manager.

"I'm fine, manager."

[...Well, that's good. Geez, Chan, you really do go through all kinds of things, don't you.]

"I know, right? It's like I'm cursed or something."

[It's not like that, is it? After all, a curse wouldn't stick to you with your constitution.]

It was a joke, but is there really such a thing as a curse?

[They can't even come into the convenience store.]

"Oh, is there some kind of protection against that?"

[Of course! These curses are so dangerous. They're invisible, and if you leave them alone, they can even mutate on their own. All kinds of disasters could happen if you're not careful.]

So these "curses" are kind of like the COVID-19 virus or the common cold in my world.

The difference is that while COVID affects people physically, these curses attack people mentally.

[We've drawn all sorts of protective magic circles and put up talismans, and we've even contracted with a specialized company, so you don't have to worry about that part.]

The manager's voice sounded proud, but I just felt more depressed.

"Manager, does that mean I'm just unlucky?"

[...Well, I guess that's how it looks.]

The proud tone was gone, replaced by a dejected one.

I'll have to go to church and confess my sins sometime.

I must have a lot of karmic baggage.

But the depression didn't last long.

At the very least, I had the vague expectation that the troublemakers wouldn't be coming around anymore.

The street outside was mostly cleaned up, and there were noticeably fewer passersby.

I think I've done enough for today objectively speaking, and if anything, else happens, my mental state might not hold up.

If I can make it until morning, it'll be Saturday, so there should be fewer customers...

The small entrance bell rang.

"Manager, a customer just came in, so I'll have to hang up for a bit."

[Okay.]

After hanging up the phone, I stood up to greet the customer...

Wait, what's that?

"Two packs of cigarettes, that's all."

The customer who came in had a bloated, chubby face and thick lips.

I'm not sure if he's classified as an Amphibian or a Mermaid, and I can't tell if his puffed-up appearance is from being drunk or from anger.

But that's not really important.

The problem is that this customer has brought a pet with him.

A white Pomeranian, a small dog standing less than 30cm (about 11.81 in) tall.

Not a Kobold, but a real dog.

In my world, this isn't exactly surprising, as I've seen customers with Chihuahuas, Labradors, and all sorts of dog-headed people.

But seeing a real, live dog still caught me off guard.

How should I classify this - a Kobold or a mammal?

"What are you doing? Give me the cigarettes."

I managed to collect my thoughts and speak up.

"Sir, you can't bring your pet into the store."

"Why? It doesn't bark. It won't pee anywhere."

"It's because people with allergies might come in later and have a problem."

Of course, the real reason is the shedding fur and the risk of the dog peeing somewhere.

And there's also the issue of customers who are afraid of dogs not being able to freely enter.

Anyway, there are valid reasons why it's not allowed, and I tried to convey that gently.

But this puffer-fish-headed customer didn't seem willing to budge.

"I'll just buy the cigarettes and beer and leave right away."

"Hmm..."

Well, if he's really going to leave right away...

While officially it's not allowed, it's a delicate issue that requires some leniency.

If it were a muscular Pitbull-type dog, I'd panic and forcibly intervene.

But this Pomeranian is just sticking out its adorable little tongue and panting.

I guess the weather has gotten a bit warmer these past few days.

"Alright then, go ahead."

"Okay."

He briefly replied and headed to the refrigerator section to grab a beer, tearing open the unpaid cigarette pack and stuffing the trash in his pocket.

"Here."

He then handed me his card, and I tried to run the payment, but it was declined.

"Sir, it says the card is over the limit."

"Aw, crap. Hold on."

He tried another card, but that one was also declined.

"This one's the same."

"Wait a minute, let me see if I have... uh..."

He rummaged through all his pockets, even lifting up the pocket on his shirt, then bluntly told me.

"Sorry, I didn't bring my card. Let me run home real quick to get it."

"Uh... you can't do that, sir."

"And why not?"

Why not?

He just tore open the cigarette pack, didn't he?

I don't mind if he wants to leave the items and go get money.

But since he's already opened the pack, I can't sell those cigarettes now.

I can't sell opened cigarette packs.

But if this puffer-fish-headed guy leaves and doesn't come back, what do I do with the cigarettes?

Am I supposed to smoke them myself?

It's been years since I quit.

And if that wasn't enough, this guy doesn't seem entirely sane either.

I mean, who takes their dog on a stroll to the convenience store at 1 am?

Great, just what I need, another drunk guy causing trouble...

"Well, what do you want me to do then?"

"Can you do a bank transfer?"

"I didn't bring my phone."

How troublesome.

Anyway, I really don't want to get involved, and even if I hold him here, it's not like money will magically appear.

I decided to suggest something on the spot.

"Well then, could you leave something as collateral and go? Like your car keys, or something..."

"I don't even have my car keys."

"Anything will do, as long as it's something you'll come back for later."

The puffer-head nodded in understanding, then held out...

"Here."

The dog's leash.

"Sir?"

"It won't bite. I live 10 minutes away; I'll be right back."

"That's not the issue..."

I feel uneasy about this.

Is this really the right thing to do morally?

I glanced sideways at the Pomeranian.

It seemed to be aware that its leash had been handed over, looking back and forth between me and its owner with a curious tilt of its head.

I'm not a member of the pet owners' association, and I have no right to interfere with how he handles his dog.

But if it were me, I don't think I could bring myself to use my dog as collateral to go get cigarette money.

Even if it's a mute animal, this just feels wrong...

"Or just go and come back."

"...Please go ahead."

There wasn't really any other option besides this dog leash.

The only other thing I have is my belt, but I can't very well take that off as collateral.

And so the puffer-head customer left, leaving just me and the Pomeranian alone in the store.

For the next 5 minutes, no other customers came in.

Even though no one came, the more I look at this Pomeranian, the more I feel bad for it.

It's basically been used as collateral for cigarette money.

It's not like I dislike dogs either.

My one-room apartment doesn't allow pets, so I haven't been able to keep a dog, but I've often thought about wanting to raise one someday.

They're cute, after all.

Well, not Pitbulls though.

Those are just protein lumps in the shape of a dog.

Not really dogs.

"Must be tough having such a weird owner, huh buddy?"

I tried talking to it, but it just tilted its head curiously, panting, without taking its eyes off me.

Since it was still staring at me, I asked out of boredom, "Or, well, do you have anything you want to say?"

The Pomeranian answered.

"Well, I do have something I want to say, but..."

After a brief pause, it continued.

"I was hesitating on whether it would be appropriate to say this, which is why my response was delayed. My apologies."

"Uh..."



















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