I Hired an Anomaly

At long last, I quit.

And opened a convenience store with my severance pay.

I, Han Jinho, had been everyone's doormat since before I knew any better. Field agent work that couldn't have cared less about human rights or safety. A brutal job that sent me into ghost stories every single day. And the ever-present dread of not knowing when I'd die.

Running my own business would put an end to all of that. More than anything, even if it went under, I wanted to know what it felt like to be the boss.

The results were brutal.

One week into business.

My only customers were poor kids clutching school meal-assistance cards and drunks out to start trouble.

Ding—

"Welcome in... for fuck's sake."

Just when I'd thought today's first customer had finally arrived.

"Excuse ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me. Do you... have chicken breast... here?"

At first, I took her for an ordinary college girl.

Up until our eyes met.

Her forehead was split open.

Crack.

It was a mouth.

And out of it, a centipede dropped to the floor.

Anyone with eyes could tell she was an anomaly. Which meant I'd been dragged into a ghost story yet again.

"Th-the things keep coming out... I'm sorry..."

The anomaly bowed her head over and over.

"Oh, come on."

The scenery outside had changed. Grotesque bugs were crawling past the window—nothing like the usual moths and gnats, each one roughly the size of my forearm. The sky hung a dark, bloody red. And where my familiar shantytown should have been, I now saw walls like rough-fired earthenware.

Thump!

The manual dropped.

A C-Grade ghost story: Solitude.

Compared to other ghost stories it was simple, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but still a genuine pain in the ass. Kill the bugs inside, and you got to leave. But if two or more people came in, you had to find the "true exit" instead. Had I entered alone, I wouldn't have needed to break my head over escaping at all. And as far as I could tell, I was the only human inside this ghost story.

Right, then. Until I got out, I might as well play convenience store owner.

Anomaly or human, a customer's a customer.

So long as they paid.

"The chicken breast is in the refrigerated ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠section, ma'am."

"Th-thank you..."

Littering centipedes behind her with every step, the customer trudged toward the refrigerated section. The centipedes writhed on the floor. When the hell was I supposed to clean that up? I didn't even have a part-timer yet.

"It looks delicious... it's been so long since I had meat..."

The anomaly tore open the chicken breast packaging.

Chomp!

And bit right into it.

Not with the mouth on her forehead—with the ordinary one on the lower half of her face.

"So good. It's so good..."

"Ma'am?"

"Y-yes...?"

"I'll need you to pay first."

"Ah... I-I don't have any..."

"You don't have money?"

Part of my severance had gone into anomaly-subduing weapons. This anomaly was carrying venomous insects on her body, yet her wits were still intact. At least C-Grade—if she'd devoured several people in here and ranked up, B-Grade. I'd already quit, but there was nothing stopping me from taking her one-on-one. An anomaly troublemaker deserved to be put down. Obviously.

"I-I'm sorry... for the food, I can pay with my body, at least..."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Pay with her body?

I'd been about to tell her to get lost if she couldn't pay—and then a thought crossed my mind. Wouldn't that be a waste? The ghost story had dragged me in anyway, so my quiet life as an ordinary store owner was already goodbye. In that case, an anomaly part-timer couldn't hurt, could it?

For starters, she passed on looking human. She stammered a little, but she could talk. She understood instructions, too. No part-time experience to speak of, sure—but you can teach the job. Hell, anyone off the street can work a convenience store register.

And above all—objectively speaking, this anomaly was pretty. If the mouth in her forehead was a problem, I could just tell her to hide it under her bangs. Timidness aside—or no, being an anomaly aside—she had the makings of a part-timer who'd pull in customers.

Best of all, I wouldn't have to pay an anomaly a single won, right?

"Um..."

Plop!

A venomous bug landed on the counter, and my brain jolted back online. I'd lost my goddamn mind. What was I thinking, hiring an anomaly? Should I chase her out? She'd probably go if I told her to.

"A-a part-time job! I'll take it! I, I... like humans...! I can do a good job!"

Drool was streaming from the mouth in her forehead.

She doesn't like humans as food... right?

Not hiring her was no longer an option. What chance did a mere human like me have of talking down an anomaly who wanted the job? If I cancelled the hire and showed her the door, who was to say she wouldn't suddenly turn violent? Even for a C-Grade, a sneak attack was more than I could afford.

I pulled a store uniform out from under the counter.

"I'll walk you through the job. Put that on and follow me."

"Y-yes... understood, Boss..."

I taught her the convenience store trade—stocking shelves, punching the register, even mopping. With not a customer in sight, the teaching itself was easy.

The problem was the anomaly herself. Whatever I demonstrated, she just nodded along without much reaction. Could this girl actually handle store work?

"Got all that?"

"Y-yes... I understand...!"

A human part-timer would've been fired on the spot. But I held my tongue. The thing in front of me was an anomaly. And I didn't have to pay her.

I fetched a jumbo mop from the storeroom and handed it over.

"Then go clean the floor."

"Y-yes! I'm so sorry..."

So she did know the floor was filthy because of her. The anomaly set to scrubbing with clumsy strokes—and even mid-chore, she kept tenderly gathering up the centipedes and venomous bugs she'd dropped, tucking each one back into the mouth in her forehead. God, she was slow.

"Huh?"

A quest window had popped up out of nowhere. So I could still earn Ghost Story Points even after quitting? I'd hired a part-timer, and the points had rolled in—which meant this convenience store itself was a ghost story. I dodged ghost stories by opening a store, and the store became a ghost story?

"What a life."

Outside the store lay Solitude. A customer walking in meant one thing: the simple route—slaughter every bug and snake in here and stroll out—was off the table.

A nightmare from my first time in this ghost story resurfaced. I'd busted my ass killing every last one of those bugs, and at the tail end, a rookie from another team wandered in. On the plus side, thanks to that, I knew how to find the true exit.

"Um, Boss...? I finished the cleaning..."

The anomaly shuffled over, fidgeting. Apparently the time had been well spent—the floor was so spotless I could see my reflection in it. The complete absence of centipedes pleased me greatly. My affection for my anomaly part-timer may have ticked up a notch.

"Good work."

"Hehe... thank you..."

Delighted with herself, she let a giant centipede slide out of her forehead. It wriggled at me.

"No. Put that thing away."

Ding—

Just then, the store door swung open. That's right—a customer was due.

"A c-convenience store...? In a place like this?"

The customer was a wreck. Blood and bug viscera smeared across every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inch of her, plus the low-grade anti-anomaly gear the company issues its rookies. She must have dropped into this ghost story during rookie training. Talk about a rookie with no luck.

"W-welcome..."

The anomaly greeted her awkwardly.

"An... anomaly...?"

Thud!

And my part-timer was pushing a giant centipede out of her forehead.

The customer, beholding that sight...

fainted, naturally.

"D-did I do something wrong...?"

The anomaly fidgeted, gazing at the collapsed customer.

"Hey."

"Yes, Boss..."

"From now on, when a customer walks in, don't bring that thing out. Got it?"

"I-I'm sorry...!"

My anomaly part-timer bowed her head again and again.

Hoisting satisfaction out of the negatives meant keeping the customer alive first. I laid her out flat.

Not a single patch of her had come through unscathed. "Ghost Story Shop."

"Solitude Antidote."

The points drained away in a rush. I gritted my teeth. I'd blown nearly everything before retiring, convinced they'd be worthless once I quit the company. What a colossal rip-off. Once I got out of this ghost story, I'd claw back every last point.

"Hey."

"Y-yes, Boss...!"

"Grab a bandage from the medical supplies shelf. You remember what I taught you, right?"

"Y-yes...!"

The anomaly dashed off after the bandages—straight to the household-goods shelf. The list of things left to teach her just kept growing.

"H-here's the bandage..."

After circling the store for a good long while, the anomaly finally brought it back.

"Good job."

While I dabbed on the antidote and bound her wounds,

"Uuugh..."

the customer stirred awake.

"Wh-where am I...?"

"A convenience store."

The anomaly hid her forehead behind both hands. Apparently she'd grasped the no-fainting rule.

Hic.

"Thank you for saving my life... b-but isn't that thing an anomaly?"

What to do. If she bolted, I'd earn neither money nor Ghost Story Points. For now, at least, neither the split mouth nor the centipede was visible. Time to bluff it out, then.

"She's my part-timer."

"I just watched a centipede come out of her forehead."

"You're seeing things."

The customer glared at my part-timer for a long, long moment.

"Uuuuh..."

The anomaly was waging all-out war against the centipede trying to force its way out of her forehead.

"I said, you're seeing things."

"Ah—yes... thank you! Are you a civilian? You saved my life, so I shall do everything in my power to assist you!"

The customer dug into her breast pocket and held out a business card.

"Ah. Right."

So she really was a company employee. Nothing wrong with a strong sense of duty, but... wasn't she the one who needed rescuing here?

Growwwl—

The customer's belly clock went off. I handed over the cup ramen I'd been boiling for a midnight snack.

"Eat up."