You Told Me to Eat Shit? Eat It Yourself (2)
"Gulp..."
A flock of well over a hundred birds was wheeling through the air all around us, and the man at my side had gone tense. A swarm of sparrows might have been cute enough, but one that was more than half crows and magpies was plenty to raise the hair on your neck. The crows in particular, with those big, long, sharp beaks, gave off the distinct feeling that a peck from one of them would not stop at a simple sting.
"As you desired, I have gathered every one I can call upon at this very moment."
"Nice work. I'll get you something to eat in a little while."
"So long as you do not forget to provide it, that shall suffice."
Yubu settled onto the ground with a soft thump, looking for all the world as if he trusted me. The man, who had been staring at him in open wonder, immediately started photographing the area around the car—the vehicle sitting square in the middle of the road, and the flock packed tight all around it.
"Let's send the photos first. One last warning."
He texted the number written on the car at once, pictures attached. The message told them to move it and park somewhere else, before the glass coating turned into a coating of bird droppings.
Some five minutes passed after the text went out, and still there was no reply, and no sign of the owner.
"This isn't working. Let's just start."
"Yubu. You see that car over there? Have your subordinates cover it in droppings."
"I cannot claim to know what you intend... but very well."
He seemed to find it strange. I had ordered him to take care of his business only in designated spots, and now I was telling him to let loose all over a car. Even so—perhaps because I had promised them food—Yubu passed the order down to his subordinates.
Thump.
"Whoa..."
It began with a single white something falling out of the sky. It dropped from high above and landed square on the hood of the car blocking the road, and after it came so many droppings that counting them was pointless. It was like heavy snow coming down. Big, heavy, filthy snow.
"At this rate, corrosion won't even be the problem."
Watching the droppings swallow the car in a matter of seconds, the man shook his head.
"Finding a car wash that'll even take that is going to take days. And even if they tried to wash it themselves... I doubt any place would let them in."
I couldn't argue. The navy SUV, so dark it was nearly black, had turned in a flash into a white-blotched wreck. Well over a hundred birds were taking careful aim as they unloaded, and there was nothing to be done about it.
Once I saw the car had gone white, I sent the birds off. I told them that if they waited at the café, I would set something extra aside for them to eat, and off they went in high spirits. A few of them, clearly pleased with themselves, even strafed the car one last time on the way out.
I burst out laughing at the sight and turned to the man.
"Hey, get a shot of it like that and send— oh. You're already taking them."
He had been photographing it before I even finished speaking, and he sent the pictures at once: a car whose body panels and windows alike were covered in stark white blotches. Only then did the other side begin to react.
"Finally. There's the call."
"Really?"
I looked straight at the phone ringing in his hand. It was the same number written on the car.
"Suhwan. I'm going to answer, but even if you get angry, you must not curse. If she curses, that alone is more than enough of a card to put pressure on her."
"Don't worry."
I nodded and gestured for him to pick up, and he answered at once. The instant he did, a sound loud enough to tear the speaker apart came blasting through.
"Heyyyyy! What the hell did you do to my car!"
The shriek of that nightmare woman from yesterday came through the speaker, painfully vivid. If there are sopranos whose voices can shatter a wine glass, this one had a voice fit to shred a speaker. The man and I shook our heads at the same time.
"What do you mean, what did we do? We warned you in advance, did we not? Large numbers of birds gather during the café's business hours, so we told you to move your car."
"Like I care about that! You! I'm not letting this go!"
"Are you threatening me right now?"
"Yeah! I'm not letting you off!"
The woman was, without question, an idiot. Who gets asked whether they're making a threat and comes right out and says yes? But the man was wearing a thin little smile, as if the stupider the opponent, the more fun they were to toy with.
"And how, exactly, do you plan not to let me off?"
"I'm gonna ruin that café of yours and leave you out on the street!"
Her car would corrode and fall apart long before our café ever went under. The man seemed to be thinking something similar, because a short laugh escaped him.
"Ma'am. What you just said is more than sufficient to constitute the crime of threatening another person's property. Interference with business, and threats on top of it—we may well be meeting at the police station before long."
"W-what?"
"Ah, of course, if you come to move the car, we would meet even sooner, would we not? Meet at the station, and you'll only have to show up carrying tens of thousands of dollars."
"......"
At his words, the nightmare woman's voice dwindled. But if she had given up there, she would not have been a nightmare customer.
"Y-you're threatening me right now too, aren't you?!"
"No. I am not. A threat is speaking, as you did, with the intent to harm the other party. I am giving notice. Notice that I intend to file suit in order to be compensated for the interference with the café's business. That does not constitute a threat."
"Tens of thousands of dollars just for blocking the road to some little café? If that isn't a threat, what is!"
"Judging by your behavior, you don't seem to mean to block the road for a few hours and be done with it, which is why I'm telling you this. You ought to understand that the longer your car sits here blocking the way, the larger the sum you will be required to pay."
He added that if she truly had no intention of handing over tens of thousands of dollars, she would do well to come at once—and with that, he hung up with a sharp click. More calls came afterward, presumably from the same woman, but he didn't answer them.
"Does it really go up into the tens of thousands?"
"It's an exaggeration. The road is blocked like this, yes, but it isn't as if people can't get through on foot, so compensation for interference with business wouldn't be all that large. A few people did turn back, but most of them parked nearby and came into the café, didn't they?"
He was right. While we had been waiting for the other side to react, people had kept passing through the whole time. Some turned around, but most of them looked determined to walk if they had to.
"There's a very high chance we would only be compensated for the actual loss, measured against average sales. Getting into the tens of thousands is, honestly, impossible. We might barely recoup the cost of the lawsuit."
"That's a shame. And here I thought we were coming into some free money."
"This sort of thing is meant to be inflated. It works as a card to rattle the other side, and when you actually go to court, it raises the odds that the amount you receive will be larger."
Listening to him, I was certain of one thing. Having a lawyer in your corner would make life considerably easier.
The two of us went back and forth a while longer, and then a taxi came in from a distance and pulled up in front of us.
"KYAAAAAAAH!"
Yesterday's nightmare woman climbed out of the taxi, took one look at her car—now gone completely white—and started stamping her feet and screaming. It was loud enough to hurt my ears, but the sight of her was deeply satisfying. Who told her to block the road?
"What are you going to do about this!"
"What is there to do? You're the one who has to deal with it. Move the car."
"Say something that makes sense!"
She jabbed a finger at the door handle, gone just as white as the rest of the car, and flew into a rage. The droppings coating the vehicle were starting to dry, but they had not fully hardened, which meant that to get the door open at all she would have to grab a handle that was anything but clean and pull.
"You! Take responsibility for this!"
Unable, it seemed, to bring herself to touch a handle caked in droppings, she locked onto me as her target. She must have decided she had no hope of beating the man with words. He slipped quietly in front of me and cut off her line of sight.
"You may speak with me. I am the lawyer. Should you demand compensation for that vehicle, we will immediately demand compensation for the interference with the café's business, and we will also seek damages for emotional distress over the threats you made a moment ago."
"Y-you—!"
Fury crossed her face at his words, and still she could not get a sentence out. Plain as day, the tens of thousands of dollars he had named were stuck in her throat.
"Then what are you going to do about this car!"
"We bear no responsibility to compensate you. This gentleman keeps an owl, but he does not keep magpies and crows. We advised you in advance to move your car, and you were the one who refused, were you not?"
At that, the rims of her eyes began to redden. She looked ready to burst into tears at any second. The sight did not move me in the slightest. If anything, I was enjoying it.
"Move the car. Quickly. If you have no intention of moving it, you may compensate us in full for the losses caused by the interference with our business."
A tear finally spilled from her eye.
"I'll move it! I'll move it, all right!"
She snapped at us, and still she could not bring herself to set a hand on the handle. Unable to hold out under the man's glare burning into her back, she hooked a single finger over it.
"Urgh!"
Whether it was the feel of the thing against her finger, her face twisted into something grotesque. I nearly burst out laughing, but I held it in and watched.
"KYAAAAH!"
With a clack the door opened, and another scream tore out of her. The white stuff that had not fully dried came sliding down through the gap as the door swung wide. With the interior fouled as well, she glared murderously at the man and me. Perhaps because she could already predict how we would answer, she climbed in and tore off in a rush.
Click.
"What are you doing?"
"Ah, it seemed a waste to simply let her go. The license plate is caked in droppings too, and there she goes, driving like that. Report her for an obscured plate, and the fine comes out to quite a sum."
He shrugged, saying it would be four hundred dollars at the very least.
"Wow... I'm glad I called you."
"If you ever need anything, call. I'll help however I can."
He told me not to feel burdened and to ask for whatever I needed, saying that if nothing else, he owed me a debt on Mungchi's account. I knew my own worth well enough, so I decided I truly would not let it weigh on me. Honestly, if I ever charged money for training animals, the fees would be enough to retain a famous lawyer several times over. There was no reason to feel indebted.
"Then let's head to the café. Mungchi looks like he wants to play."
Mungchi was already starting to squirm with excitement, and I led him and the man toward the café.