Magic Store 25



I had seen plenty of smartphones used while working here - people frequently waved them in front of me to make mobile payments or show gift cards.

But I had never actually seen anyone use them to cast magic.

I couldn't help but ask directly, "Is that even possible? With a smartphone?"

[Well, it does require some preparation, but it's doable. Chan, how about you? Is a smartphone, okay?]

"I mean, I guess it could work..." I replied hesitantly.

Using a smartphone seemed a lot simpler than having to learn arcane rituals or carry around a 40cm (about 1.31 ft) staff in my back pocket.

[Alright, we'll go with the smartphone plan then. Let me hang up and start getting ready - there's a few things I need to take care of first.]

"Getting ready?" I questioned.

[Yeah, I need to make some calls and file a report with the Bureau... But I'll try to get an early start in the morning, okay?]

"Sounds good," I answered, though it was approaching 3 AM and I had doubts about this working out.

Even as dawn approached, customers trickled in at a rate of just 2-3 per hour.

I was busy restocking shelves, checking expiration dates, and glancing outside, but foot traffic remained light.

Not surprising, given how unappetizing barhopping must feel at this time.

Once the sun rose, we only saw a handful of customers coming in for hangover cures and instant ramen.

With no influx of office workers on the weekend, it seemed like it would stay quiet until my shift ended.

This gave me plenty of time to think, sitting on the chair behind the counter and staring at the shattered car door.

One thought that kept nagging at me - it was freezing in here.

When dealing with difficult customers earlier, the adrenaline kept me warm.

But now, with the April chill seeping in through the damaged entryway, I couldn't help but feel the bite of the cold.

It just wasn't right that I had to worry about the weather inside the building...

The manager had said she would fix it herself, but if I had the tools and materials, I probably would have tried to repair the door hinge myself somehow.

"Achoo."

Thinking about situations like this made me realize learning a bit about magic might not be a bad idea.

Even if I couldn't become a Voldemort or Saruman with just a smartphone, at least I could avoid shivering in the cold while staring at a broken door.

"Achoo."

Still, I couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy about it all.

Whether it's a sleeping potion or a magic smartphone, I was getting a lot more out of this arrangement than the manager, and that was after just three days.

I felt like I should be contributing more to her in return.

"Achoo."

Huh, who was that?

I looked outside to see a small child, head to toe in white, gripping the handlebars of a bicycle and coughing repeatedly.

The child sniffled and nervously glanced around the interior of the convenience store, until our eyes met, and her expression relaxed.

As I stepped outside, the child cheerfully greeted me.

"Hello, sir."

Seems they weren't expecting me to be here.

I responded, "It's been a while, kid."

The child tilted their head and asked, "Has it really been a while?"

"...Well, not exactly," I admitted.

In just a single day, I'd experienced enough bizarre events to feel like it had been weeks, not two days since I'd helped her with the origami.

"Things have been a bit rough these past couple days," I explained.

"Oh dear, are you not feeling well?"

"I wasn't doing too great, but seeing you makes me feel a bit better."

"Huh?"



"I mean, there's something about you. But wait, was that cough from you earlier?"

"Uh... A-achoo!" the child replied, interrupted by another sneeze.

And with each sneeze, small bursts of flame came shooting out of the child's mouth before dissipating, leaving behind puffs of acrid smoke and ash around her lips.

What an adorable little breath attack.

I hesitated to get too close, worried the child might accidentally singe me.

But seeing them cough so hard that tears welled up in their eyes made me feel a pang of sympathy.

I crouched down to speak to her.

"Kid, are you coming down with a cold?"

"N-no... A-achoo!"

She stammered.

“Well, you shouldn't be coughing like that then," I scolded lightly.

I ushered her inside, figuring it would at least be a bit warmer than out on the street, even if the store was still chilly.

I sat her down on the chair behind the counter and retrieved a bottle of honey water from the warmer, scanning the barcode to give it to her.

"Here, at least drink this for now."

"I, I don't have any m-money... Achoo!"

She protested weakly.

"Pay me back when you're feeling better," I brushed it off.

Eager to get them some proper relief, I quickly went to the medicine aisle and grabbed some children's cold medication as well.

"And take this too."

"I don't want medicine... Ah, mister. But I really don't have any money. You don't have to give it to me."

It seemed the money issue was just an excuse - the child probably just didn't want to take the medicine because it tasted unpleasant.

Fortunately, I was able to find a compromise quickly.

"If you don't take the medicine now, you might have to get a shot later."

"Eek!" the child exclaimed, eyes widening.

After successfully negotiating, I tore open the medicine packaging and handed them two capsules, which she reluctantly popped into their mouth and swallowed with a few sips of the honey water.

She gave one more cough, leaving a smudge of soot on the counter.

Luckily, the child didn't seem to notice.

Her expression had brightened noticeably as she bowed politely and thanked me.

"Thank you, mister."

"No problem," I replied.

I'd have to discreetly wipe that soot off later when the child wasn't looking.

As I watched the child's legs swinging back and forth, I remembered she had come in before to work on a Mother's Day gift.

The unfinished gift was still sitting on the shelf under the sink - I could easily help her complete it if that was the reason she'd returned.

But considering their coughing fits, I doubted she'd be able to focus on that today.

I decided to bring it up myself.

"At this rate, you won't be able to finish that gift you were working on before."

"Huh?" the child responded, curling up a bit.

"You'd probably just end up burning everything if you tried to concentrate right now," I explained.

"Ah, that's not it..." She mumbled, fidgeting.

Not that?

Then what was it?

The child hesitated, then spoke up tentatively.

"The convenience store is... where you buy things, right?"

"Well, yes, that's true," I acknowledged.

"But you see, I don't really have much money..."

With a somber expression, the child rummaged through her pouch and pulled out a 500 won coin, holding it out to me.

It was clear that it wouldn't be enough to buy much at the convenience store these days, where even the cheapest ramen was around 750 won.

"That's why... I was just going to greet you today, and come back later," she said.

"Come back when?" I asked.

"When I save up 2,000 won. Mommy gives me 500 won allowance every day," she explained.

Simple math told me that meant they'd be back in about 3 days.

And then 4 days after that, and so on.

I didn't feel good about that.

The idea of her only coming when she had money was admirable, but the fact was, Mother's Day was just a couple days away.

At this rate, she’d only be able to visit a few times and spend maybe an hour each time - not nearly enough time to make a satisfactory gift.

I, on the other hand, was free in the mornings and wouldn't mind spending that time helping her with her gift.

I pondered how to get her to stay a bit longer, then spoke up.

"You know, kid, you can still do a lot at the convenience store with just 500 won."

"Huh?" She responded, perking up.

I gave some examples - they could buy two small candies for 250 won each, or fruit milk for 400 won, or even some pens or markers for under 500 won.

If she had money to purchase something, I wouldn't really turn her away.

The child's expression brightened as I went on.

"Ooh..."

She murmured.

"And hey, those cola bottle candies are on a 2-for-1 special right now," I added.

"Two-for-one?"

"Ah, if you buy two cola bottle candies, you get one more for free!" I explained, picking up two of the candies.

The child looked alternately at the 500 won coin and the candies, then sheepishly lowered her head.



"But I can't buy two... I don't have the extra 100 won."

"Well, let's see if you can find a 100 won coin somewhere. Or I can help you look for one," I offered.

"Okay," she agreed, handing me their pouch.

I took it and rummaged through, but of course there was no 100 won coin to be found - I hadn't actually expected one to be there either.

So before searching, I had secretly palmed a 100 won coin.

As I pulled my hand out of the pouch, I pretended it had come from inside.

"Look, a 100 won coin right here!"

"Huh?" the child responded, bewildered.

"See, 100 won," I said, holding it up.

"Eh, is that really there...?" She murmured in amazement.

"Told you, you just had to look closely," I chuckled.

"I'm sorry... but why is there a 100 won coin?" she asked, tilting her head quizzically.

Seeing their perplexed expression, I felt a little guilty about misleading the innocent child.

"Ah, it's nothing strange, kid. Sometimes when I'm rummaging around in my bag or wallet, 100 won coins just seem to pop out, you know?"

"Really?" She replied, still puzzled.

"Well, you see, 100 won coins are actually grown from fungus. That's why they seem to appear from hidden places," I explained, trying to keep a straight face.

"Wow, really?!" the child exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Pffft, no, of course not," I laughed.

"100 won coins don't actually come from fungus."

The child's expression relaxed into a sheepish smile as she realized I had been joking.

"Oh, I see. I was being too naive."

"Don't worry about it, kids sometimes believe the silly things adults say," I assured her.

"That's why I like kids who are a bit slow on the uptake - there's a certain amusement in teasing them."

The child puffed out her cheeks in a sulky manner, but as I quickly presented the candy, she promptly tucked their cheeks back in and her amber eyes began to sparkle.

Hmm, I wonder what flavor I should give her.

The cola bottle candies come in two colors - orange and cola.

I told the child to pick three of them, and she took out one of each different flavor and offered them to me.

Something about it felt a bit forced.

"I think the sour ones are the best," the child said.

"Mm-hmm."

"But I'm not sure what kind you like, mister... so I'll give you both."

I knew this was coming.

"Why are you giving them to me again? You bought them with your own money."

"Umm, well, you're bigger, mister..."

"I already tried that line before, kid. Don't you have anything else?"

"And also... two is a lot, but one is too little...?"

Is this like spicy noodles - one is too little, but two is too much?

I quietly watched to see if she would say anything else, but she just fidgeted and twitched their tail, unable to give a clear answer.

Sensing she might start crying if I kept this up, I reluctantly accepted the candy.

"Thank you, I'll enjoy them."

"Okay."

Afterwards, I unwrapped the child's candy and handed it to her, then unwrapped my own and popped it into my mouth. The sweet and slightly fizzy taste was actually quite nice.

For about 20 seconds, we just silently sucked on the candies, until I carefully brought up the next topic.

"Why don't you rest here for a bit, and then head home to your mom when you're feeling better?"

"Is that okay?"

"It's fine. You bought the candy, after all. But where do you live?"

Seeing she had ridden a bike here; she didn't seem to live too far away.

The child paused and tilted her head, then gave an unexpected answer.

"My home is far. It's about an hour by subway from here."

"An hour? What station are you getting off at?"

"Umm, the station name is... Academy... Academy district...?"

What district?

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