The Absolute Chaos Party

"So... you want me to take this?"

"Yeah!"

One of the employees stared, utterly lost, as Maru suddenly bit down on the leash clipped to her harness and held it out. Unlike me, he couldn't understand her bright little yes, and with a dubious look he took the leash she was offering anyway.

Ah. He really shouldn't have grabbed that.

"AAAAAH!"

The employee who'd taken the leash screamed and was hauled clean away. I didn't even have time to stop it. I'd trained her never to go on a walk without a guardian and a leash, and her mindset was clearly that if no guardian was on hand, she could simply manufacture one.

"Ha..."

For a moment I was dumbfounded that one of the people who were supposed to be in training had just vanished. Then I decided not to worry about it. She was a clever girl. She'd drag him back before the employee died. Let me be clear about that: before the employee died. It was not going to be the employee dragging Maru home. Maru was obviously going to drag the employee.

I'm going to owe them extra pay from day one of training, aren't I...?

Praying the one Maru had hauled off would come back in one piece, I turned my attention to Jjamong, who required special caution. True to a people-loving Welsh Corgi, she was tearing around like a maniac, weaving in and out between the staff — not with any plan, just running wherever her legs happened to point. Wherever, mind you.

"Eek!"

"Whoa! You scared me!"

Jjamong would suddenly shoot between someone's legs and whip straight through, and one after another the employees jumped out of their skins. Then, whenever she found a person she liked, she'd plant herself between their legs and shake her rear end like mad. Her previous owner had docked her tail purely for the sake of looks, so with no tail left to wag, she wagged her whole backside in its place.

Looking at that missing tail, human behavior struck me as unbearably selfish. Jjamong herself didn't seem to mind much, though, so I turned my head.

"Urk!"

Short legs made her look like a small dog, but Jjamong was medium-sized, and I heard an employee go down under the force of her enthusiastic butt-bounce. I ignored it.

"Brush me. I said brush."

What met my eyes when I turned, however, was Poksini intimidating yet another employee. A suspected Persian mix, she boasted a truly tremendous coat, as Persian mixes do — and somehow, whether she'd ducked into the house and come back I couldn't say, she had produced a cat brush and was holding it out. From the way she acted and the way she spoke, she was plainly trying to put the employee to work grooming her.

Followed Namcat around and picked up his thug-cat habits down to the bone.

Whether she'd fallen for him or not, Poksini had stuck to Namcat like a burr, and the result was the full thug-cat conversion of a cat who had once been fairly mild. I even wondered whether I ought to quarantine Namcat, but what had already changed couldn't be undone. I let out a small sigh as the employee picked up the brush and started combing her fur.

I'm going to have to raise their pay.

Watching employees who were obviously going to be tormented by the animals from here on out, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠felt a powerful urge to at least bump their salaries. Otherwise, some of them were a hundred percent going to desert.

Which one of them is going to drive an employee to flee first...?

Turning over the question of who would land on the watch list, I gave the others a look as well. Even so, the rest were considerably better behaved than the ones I'd just seen. Ssangdungi the Siamese and Chikin-i the Munchkin had fetched a cat teaser wand and were getting an employee to wave it. The small mercy was that, unlike Poksini, they weren't forcing anyone — they just carried the wand around in their mouths and stared, waiting to be played with.

Sulppang, you might say, had no particular quirk at all. He was simply trotting in circles around the employees.

Sulppang's the best-behaved of the lot.

Calling the boundlessly energetic Sulppang well-behaved was nonsense on its face, but next to the others he belonged to the calmest group. Excluding Natae, of course, whose ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠laziness blew straight past the very idea of good behavior.

And the last animal left, Yubu...

"Perish, monster cat!"

"Birdbrain, huh? That why you can't learn a damn thing?"

"Hang in there, Captain!"

"We're smashing that monster cat!"

At some point he had gotten into a feather-flying brawl with Namcat, cheered on by the magpies and crows. Those two didn't spare a thought for whether any humans were standing around.

A total shitshow... no. This was an absolute chaos party in the flesh, and I shook my head at the sight. Even so, I was perfectly comfortable. The employees were suffering horribly in my place, so of course I was comfortable. On any other day this would have been my turn to get dragged around by Maru, Sulppang, and Jjamong, but I was simply basking in the warm sunlight.

I did feel a little sorry for the employee Maru had hauled off, the ones toppling over because of Jjamong, and the ones whipping their heads in circles trying to track the madly sprinting Sulppang. I was comfortable all the same — comfortable enough to wonder if this was how decent bosses slowly turned rotten.

"Haaagh... stoopp... I can't... I can't run any mooore..."

And while I was enjoying my peace and quiet all by myself, the employee Maru had abducted came staggering back, looking half dead.

He looks like he just ran a full marathon.

Unlike the endlessly sunny Maru, the employee looked as if a single poke would finish him off with a dying croak, and I decided I ought to slip him a little bonus on the side.

I'll send him home in a cab and tell him to get some high-protein food in him.

I gave him a brief moment to catch his breath after being dragged off and coming back, then called the animals off.

"All right, that's enough. Come here."

The instant the words left my mouth, the animals came pouring in around me. The employees, a little ragged from the ordeal, stared at me in blank exhaustion. There was a trace of resentment in those eyes — you could have saved us sooner.

But I decided to brazen it out. So what if they resented me a little? Comfort was comfort. Having committed fully to that shamelessness, I went on.

"For starters, your job will be caring for the animals like this. Well, in practice it'll be less than this. Most of them will be off with the customers."

At that, the employees looked as if they'd been granted a reprieve. Just knowing it wouldn't be at the present level was clearly enough for them to count their blessings. The one Maru had dragged off, in particular, was immensely relieved.

I smiled faintly and took out a small sign I'd prepared ahead of time. It was plastic, with cords tied at both ends so it could be hung from something.

"This is a Do Not Disturb Sign. If an animal is wearing it, your single most important duty is making sure customers don't touch that animal. I've already told these guys that if they don't want people's attention, they're to keep this around their necks."

I held the sign out where the employees could see it clearly.

They nodded as they read the words.

"Boss! But what if a customer tries to touch them even while they're wearing the sign?"

"Good question. In a cafe this many people visit, you can't guarantee that only normal ones will show up. So we've decided to keep it simple. Warn them, and if they still don't listen, throw them out."

"...Huh?"

The employees looked baffled. Fair enough. They'd probably never met a boss who told them to just kick customers out.

"You really... want us to throw them out?"

"Yes. I'm not going to do something these guys hate just to scrape together a few bucks."

I ran a gentle hand from head to rump over Namcat, who had come padding over at some point after planting a paw on Yubu.

"So anyone who's a pest instead of a customer, just throw them out. Politely."

"...Boss. How exactly do you throw someone out politely?"

"Customer. You have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠violated this cafe's terms of use. Pursuant to the terms we explained when you entered, we ask that you leave. Just say it like that."

As I spoke, I passed out the papers I'd prepared, one apiece. They were a kind of terms of use, drawn up with help from Byeong-jin — Mungchi's owner, and a lawyer at Ko & Rani Law Office. The heart of it was simple.

I meant to post it in large print at the entrance, and at the drink-order counter and on the tables as well. The employees read it through and looked at me as if to ask whether I truly intended to run a business this way. I brushed those looks aside without a second thought.

A little bad reputation? No problem. Framed as a measure to protect the animals, there would surely be more people who thought it was perfectly fine than people who disliked it.

"All right, then let's practice what you're supposed to do. I'll play the pest. Say a pest walks in and starts bothering the animals. Like this."

By way of demonstration, I seized Namcat's tail where he sat beside me. I didn't squeeze hard enough to hurt.

"The hell do you think you're doing, you piece of shit!"

"Ack!"

It might not have hurt, but it had clearly soured his mood. Namcat yanked his tail free of my hand and cracked a Nyangnyang Punch across my head. It was the same punch that could send even Yubu the eagle owl flying, so there was real force behind it, and I had no choice but to press and rub the spot where I'd been hit.

I immediately pulled out my phone and called Byeong-jin.

Customer or not, if someone rubbed Namcat the wrong way, this guy looked ready to beat them senseless.

Told that the owner had to answer for unprovoked violence committed by an animal, I heaved a long sigh and looked at Namcat. One more task had appeared before the cafe could open. I had to train him not to hit the customers.

Call it a blessing in disguise, though — there was still a reasonably comfortable stretch of time before opening day. I would have to get through the employees' training and Namcat's both within it. Even so, whether thanks to the money or to the Churu, neither proved to be much of a problem.

As a result, with about three days left until the cafe opened, the employees had become veterans who could handle just about any sudden situation. Namcat... I had at least turned him into a cat who could endure being touched once.

Yeesh. What kind of bastard can't even put up with it twice?

If Churu hadn't been hanging in the balance, he clearly wouldn't have tolerated it even once.

Anyway, with the training finished, one last inspection was all that stood between us and opening the cafe like normal. But one more threshold still waited for me. A threshold that mattered enormously in a life.