Luciel's Grocery Store. Third Hit Product: Packaged Ramen
Third hit product: packaged ramen. A fine treat for boosting staff morale.
We stayed open for about another hour after that and took in only five or so more customers. Everyone must have assumed we'd be closed for the day, since we hadn't opened in the morning, because the foot traffic was nowhere near its usual volume. That suited me fine, though — it gave me time to walk Erina through the various products on the shelves.
Erina seemed to have decided that the principles behind these products — conjured by mysterious alchemy, were they? — were simply beyond her, because at some point she began focusing purely on what each item was for, how to use it, and what it cost. From there, her progress picked up considerably.
Compared to Greengote she was no prodigy, but she wasn't slow either, and teaching her never felt like a slog.
No — honestly, at this level you could call her a fast learner. Most of what we sold here were things that didn't exist in this world at all, items she was laying eyes on for the very first time, and she'd heard each one explained exactly once, without ever watching it being used. Absorbing all that through sheer imagination was no small feat. It would take quite a while before she could handle a sale on her own.
What impressed me more was that even with the sheer number of items we carried, Erina threw herself into the lessons without a trace of fatigue. When I asked why she was working so hard,
"You didn't sell me off as a sex slave somewhere else — you took me on as a clerk in this magic shop. Of course I'm grateful! I'll memorize every single product in this store if it's the last thing I do!"
I told you, I'm not selling you as a sex slave. Was she still that anxious?
After that, we shut down the short afternoon shift to prep for the night trade and closed the doors again. Then, mulling over what to make for an early dinner, I decided something instant — something quick before the night shift — was the right call.
"Ramen for dinner tonight."
"Ramen?! Order received and confirmed, sir!"
The moment the word left my mouth, Greengote shot up from his seat and started preparing with the frantic speed of a goblin who'd grown ten extra bodies.
"Ramen? What's ramen?"
"Another kind of instant food. Between the way it looks and the heat it packs, it's not really suited to the locals here, so I don't sell it separately."
"Spicy? Would it be spicier than that curry soup you made for us this afternoon?"
"Hmm... try it and see. Gote? Which one did you pull out?"
"Jin Ramen — the spicy kind!"
"Make it the mild one."
"Ohh... Boss, how could you make such a call...!?"
"It's Erina's first time eating ramen. Mild. Three packs."
"Won't Miss Erina acclimate to the flavor soon enough?"
"Mild."
"Yes, sir..."
And so the three of us made a simple meal of the ramen Greengote set before us. Not jjajang ramen, not stir-fried — the classic, that familiar red-broth ramen with its gentle kick that everyone knows.
This was also the one moment when this goblin, who had never once second-guessed any of my decisions, showed open rebellion against his boss.
For Erina, this was another first-time food. Even the mild version might prove too much — if it got too hot for her, I might have to drain off the broth and serve her just the noodles.
Naturally, since Erina wasn't used to chopsticks, I handed her a fork. As expected, the unfamiliar burn seemed to keep her from spooning up the broth anytime soon. Still, she ate the noodles with relish — though of course, not with quite the rapture she reserved for sweet snacks and candy.
"You're not having more?! Good heavens — you're not even going to add rice to the broth?! How could you commit such blasphemy...!"
"I've been mooching snacks all day while learning the work from Master. But this is delicious on its own! These squiggly noodles are so wonderfully chewy — it's fascinating!"
Greengote wore a look of pure shock as he tore open the lid of the instant rice I'd heated up as a side.
Truth be told, before Erina arrived we didn't eat ramen often. Ramen was a once-every-two-weeks affair — lunch on our day off, and nothing more. The reason, as you can see, was that Greengote was all but pathologically obsessed with the stuff.
Back when he asked me to convert his monthly salary into its ramen equivalent, I genuinely wondered whether this goblin had pickled his brain in sodium. His body was far smaller than a grown human's, so it had to be even worse for his health. Which was why, to hold off heart disease, obesity, high blood pressure, and hyperlipidemia, I had to strictly ration the total amount of ramen I issued him each week.
But today was a special occasion — and Greengote had been run ragged on our behalf too, not just me and Erina.
"Slurrrrrp!"
Greengote was already on his second pack, extra noodles added. While he slurped with better form than even mine, I helped Erina — still clumsy with noodle dishes — manage hers, and slipped in a question as casually as I could.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course? You're curious about me?"
"Honestly, about as much as you are about me. I was planning to learn it all slowly over time, but there's something I want to ask right now..."
When I let the pause hang, I could feel Erina stop her fork and tense up ever so slightly.
"The matches. Why did you grab them, back then?"
"...It was dark. I thought I might need them."
"You thought you might need them? Even that time, when those thugs nearly had you. You couldn't even get your clothes on, and the first thing you picked up off the ground was matches. Why?"
"That's..."
"Is there a reason?"
"Th-the sight of fire puts me at ease."
"Puts you at ease?"
Erina's answer was a muddle. It sounded like an excuse.
"This afternoon too — you didn't run. You hid in the grass and tried desperately to strike those soaked matches. Why did you do that?"
"Mmmph."
Suddenly Erina buried her nose in her ramen bowl and started gulping down the broth.
"Wow, this gets spicier the more I eat! But it's so good!"
"Isn't it?! Depending on your preference, you may add egg, bean sprouts, rice cakes, or cheese for an even richer medley of flavors!"
"I only caught... egg and cheese."
"Bean sprouts and rice cakes are ingredients to be found in Boss Luciel's homeland. I am told that in the Boss's homeland, ceaseless debates rage over how done the noodles should be, how much broth to pour, and which additional toppings belong in the bowl."
"Your homeland, Master... how remarkable!"
"A land of intellectuals who discourse upon the philosophy and aesthetics of taste!"
Erina had forcibly extinguished that line of questioning, and for a long while afterward it was nothing but ramen talk with Greengote, so I never got the chance to press her any further.
And so night fell.
When it did, I changed my clothes. "Changed" was generous — I simply shed the apron I'd been wearing over everything and put my suit jacket back on. Then I pinned a glittering brooch of crystal quartz to my collar. Seeing it, Erina stared at me and marveled.
"You look splendid, Master... What sort of customers come at night?"
"Nobles."
"Wha—?!"
Erina asked me twice more whether actual nobles really came. They did. Opening the shop for Greenhill's residents by day and for nobles by night — that was my business model. Though those esteemed guests rarely deigned to grace the place in person; most visitors were proxies running their errands. Servants, in other words. This was, after all, a rural backwater with no reason to visit whatsoever, my shop aside.
But the upscale, nobility-serving concept had to be maintained, so for night business — whether only servants showed or the lords themselves — I always took care with my attire and the arrangement of the store. Farm tools and kitchenware out on display could strike a noble as beneath the shop's dignity, so I stowed them far away and draped them in cloth, then filled the gaps with more exclusive merchandise.
"Oh... you startled me. You could have said so sooner... Is it all right if I don't change?"
"You're perfect as you are."
Erina fussed with her outfit. She seemed to want to hide the low-cut neckline and the thighs her short skirt left bare, but day shift or night shift, leaving things as they were was the smarter play. Pretty things shouldn't be locked away — they're best displayed where everyone can look and enjoy. And one of tonight's customers would take a very keen interest in Erina's maid outfit.
"Still, some do visit in person now and then. To browse the new arrivals I bring into the shop, they have to come see for themselves."
"I see... Then what do the nobles usually buy?"
"Look over here."
"Huh?! When did the layout change?"
"While you were sweating buckets over your ramen, eating at a snail's pace."
"That's so mean... You should have called me... I wanted to help!"
No need. I had no intention of putting Erina to work when she didn't yet know the store's full inventory or its layout. She might well drop something trying to help — something that would shatter. The goods going out now were pricey ones, and for this stretch at least, working alone was faster and easier on my nerves.
"Now then — want to guess what's different from before?"
"Hmm... Oh, this one first!"
Erina pointed at the mannequin displayed on the table at the very center of the store. It had been modeled on a woman's body — a slim, small-framed, girlish figure. The outfit on it was a black bra and panties drenched in lace, sheer mesh that left the skin beneath plainly visible. This was the only 'clothing' our store carried.
"These... these are what Manager Greengote gave me on my first night, aren't they?"
Erina smiled toward the office where Greengote was. Hearing her talk about underwear through the open door, Greengote cleared his throat in a hurry and turned his head pointedly the other way.
"Did you ever try them on? They were probably difficult to wear."
"Yes... honestly, the way it clings so tightly to the body feels strange to me."
In this other world, even noblewomen mostly wore plain, baggy underthings — the equivalent of men's boxers. In places like brothels you could find undergarments designed much like modern women's lingerie, but those were mostly for nobles or prostitutes. As for shaping a woman's figure, that job belonged to the corset — a foundation garment so uncomfortable and cumbersome to put on that it was a chore. Most working women probably didn't even know the bra existed. And even if they did, a bra that cinched the chest tight would only get in the way of work; there was no reason to open their wallets for one. Whether breasts sagged or sat perky, they just kept catching on your arms — nobody felt any particular need to sculpt them. So what did the local women wear under their tops? Nothing at all. They simply let their breasts hang and lived like men. That was why you never saw a woman radiating sexual allure in the countryside.
"This part — the straps — would probably chafe and be even worse. If I wore this under clothes, it would catch on everything..."
Erina said, pointing at the lace on the shoulder straps.
"This underwear doesn't need any other clothes worn over it."
"What?! You don't put anything on top of it? Then it isn't underwear at all."
"And there's no need to keep it on for long, anyway. It'll be coming off soon enough."
"What do you... Oh?!"
Erina's puzzlement gave way to a face burning scarlet. This time, it seemed, she'd grasped the product's purpose all on her own — no explanation from me required.
"Now, there's something I'd like to ask of you — boss to employee."
I put a little weight into my voice. At my sudden seriousness, Erina swallowed hard.
"A request... for me?"
"Yes. This is something only you can do — Erina, our store's first-ever female employee."
"Don't tell me... I'm to try these on?"
I nodded.
"I won't force you. But wearing at least the basic style would do you some good too. Going forward, you'll be able to actively promote these to the many other women here who need a bra."
"If that's what you ask of me, Master, I'll try them on!"
Mmm... I appreciated her saying that. I explained the basics of putting on a bra. It wasn't that I was teaching her just because the topic had come up — a few hours from now, Erina would need to step up and handle something herself. For that, we first had to retrieve the bra Greengote had given her before.
First you slip both shoulder straps over your arms, seat each cup over a breast, then reach behind your back, draw the band around, and fasten the hooks. After that, you adjust the cups and straps until they sit right on your body. I spread the bra out, turning it this way and that as I walked Erina through the details.
Of course, if I'd fitted it onto her body directly as I explained, she'd have understood perfectly — and as her master, I was more than entitled to do exactly that, even now. But for some reason, inefficient as it was, I wanted to keep a little distance for the moment. Not because I had any aversion to touching her body. I just wanted to build intimacy on the inside before the outside — to let something deeper settle before any skinship. Master or not, it had only been a few days since Erina opened her heart to me.
"You're not even a woman, and yet you know all this! You truly are remarkable, Master."
Erina nodded, holding the bra she'd been given before up against her own chest.
"You can't sell a thing unless you can teach people how to wear it. The fitting — did you memorize it?"
"Hmm... I'm not sure. Just hearing it described, it's still a bit fuzzy."
"A female customer is coming at dawn. She'll want to buy one of these, and you'll be the one to teach her how to wear it."
"Wh-what?! M-me?!"
"I can't exactly do it — I'm a man."
Erina looked considerably flustered. But there was not one trace of surrender in her. She seemed to have taken this as her first trial as a slave — a chance to earn her master's recognition — and Erina's eyes blazed with passion for the art of the bra.
"If I try it on a few times myself, I'm sure I'll have it!"
"Then I'll give you some time to practice alone."
I left Erina for a while to practice fitting the bra in the storeroom that served as her temporary room. I didn't watch her at it, but judging by the groans and grunts drifting from inside, she was clearly struggling more than expected.
"So? Think you can manage it?"
"I can more or less get it on by myself. But teaching someone else, I'm not sure I... Mm, no! I can do it."
Somehow, that left me uneasy... Maybe I should have told her sooner.