Training the Part-Timer

Hup!

I heaved the collapsed drunk up off the floor and settled him onto one of the tables, then got the police on the line straight away. Naturally, they handed him over to family—and even three sheets to the wind, the man had rattled off his wife's phone number without a single fumble. Ten-odd minutes later, a middle-aged woman who had to be his wife came sprinting in.

"Aigoo, you absolute fool! I can't live like this!"

She smacked him hard on the backside.

"Hand over the red-cap soju—hic!"

"Embarrassing yourself in front of all these nice young people! Thank you, young man. You take care now!"

"Come again."

The woman loaded her husband into the car and drove off. Had it been me, I'd have at least sent her off with a Bacchus energy drink for the road.

Still, a customer's a customer. The least I could do was see them out with a bow.

"U-uh..."

I turned to find Ji Yesol fidgeting, wringing her hands.

"You saw all that, right? That's how you handle problem customers."

"Th-that looks... really hard..."

"It's fine. Do it enough ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and it becomes second nature."

So scaring a customer off with Ji Yesol's centipedes counted as "subduing" him. Lucky for us the man was blackout drunk—nobody seemed to notice she wasn't human.

Ding—

Store level? Part-timer management? Honestly. The sheer nerve of this thing.

Warily, I opened the Part-Timer Management window.

Slots 2 and 3 were empty, which meant...

I could hire up to three part-timers?

"Eep!"

She hiccuped, and a whole flurry of centipedes clattered to the floor.

One Ji Yesol was already a handful. Three anomaly employees? At a store where ten customers a day would count as a rush?

I tapped the name at the top of the list.

I knew this store straddled the line between an ordinary convenience store and a ghost story—status windows only opened inside ghost stories, after all. But openly putting an anomaly on the payroll? That, I hadn't seen coming.

Which raised a question: if the store could hire anomaly staff, did that make me... an anomaly too?

Me. The guy who'd gotten a job the week he graduated high school and had done nothing but work ever since.

Swell. The moment I quit, I'd get quarantined.

Yet another reason never to get found out, then.

A new button had appeared beneath Ji Yesol's status window.

So work abilities could be raised through training? And here I'd already written off everything but her cleaning as a lost cause.

Anomaly or not. Even if her wages could be paid off in chicken breast. Even if we'd never signed an employment contract.

A job was a job. She'd have to do it properly.

I pressed Train Part-Timer on the spot.

Suddenly I understood why that side quest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had failed the first time.

It was never a matter of informally showing her the ropes—the real training only began through the Part-Timer Management menu inside the status window.

Typical ghost-story UI. Unfailingly unhelpful.

Where was this thing's conscience?

Why did her mistakes come out of my points?

"Hic."

Apparently the mini quest was visible to Ji Yesol herself—made sense, since it concerned her.

"B-Boss... I-is... is this even possible..."

"You'll be fine. You can do this, Yesol."

"B-but... I've never worked at a convenience store... and people don't... like me..."

I gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

"Yesol."

"Yes...?"

"If I say you can, then you can. Understood?"

"Yes... Boss!"

A quick glance at my phone told ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me midnight was bearing down on us. Any other night, I'd have thrown up a short-term gig listing on Karrot by now...

But there was no way to send Ji Yesol back into the ghost story. Leave her at the store alone and she'd be outed as an anomaly and hauled off to the Company—and I'd be dragged away right beside her.

Going home was a lost cause.

No customers anyway. Might as well put her through practice.

I knocked back a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠canned caffeinated drink in one gulp and walked over to her.

"Let's start with greetings."

"G-greetings...? With... with whom...?"

"Who else is here besides me? And you only avoid mistakes by practicing."

Playing the customer, I stepped out of the store and came back in.

"W-welcome..."

Ji Yesol dipped her head in a bow.

"Pack of cigarettes. The red ones."

"Y-yes...? I-I'm... sorry?"

"No—why are you apologizing?"

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

She just kept apologizing.

Right. Maybe opening with the cigarette customer was too much for her.

By the time the greeting drills wound down, dawn was creeping in. She could mostly manage a greeting now without too much stammering.

Not that a single real customer had come along to move the counter. No customers at all, save for anomalies and problem drunks. Was this store for real?

Before I knew it, the school run was starting—the hour when the eager-beaver high schoolers came marching out. Down the street, one sleep-wrecked student dragged himself toward the store.

Bet you anything he was here for coffee.

I nudged Ji Yesol in front of the register.

"Feeling confident?"

"Y-yes...!"

"Then show me what you've got."

Ding—

The high schooler stepped inside.

"W-WELCOME...!"

"Whoa! You scared me."

The enthusiasm was certainly there.

Far too much of it.

The customer staggered back a step—and then his eyes met hers.

"Hic..."

Ji Yesol's hand shot up to cover her forehead.

Solid reflex time. After all, a centipede popping out meant ten points gone.

At least the greeting itself had registered properly. Small mercies.

The kid eyed Ji Yesol a moment, then shuffled up to the register with his coffee.

"Hey, noona. Any chance I could get a star pour?"

The brat struck a disgustingly suave little pose as he leaned in to whisper at her.

"Yes...? A st-star pour...?"

Was this kid out of his mind?

Me, I knew she was an anomaly. But to anyone who didn't know better, she was just a pretty, shy girl who looked college-aged.

Which was exactly the problem.

Brazenly demanding a star pour from an anomaly?

Was that some next-generation form of suicide?

No, wait.

Before that—since when was it normal for a minor to hit on an adult?

With the manager—me—standing right there?

And she couldn't exactly announce she was an anomaly, either.

How the hell was I supposed to keep this kid alive?

"W-what do I do... Boss...?"

And in the middle of all that, Ji Yesol was busy searching my face for guidance.

There was nothing for it.

She was fighting it back for dear life, but I could feel a centipede about to make its entrance.

I slung an arm around her shoulders and stepped forward.

"Hey. Yesol's my girlfriend, you know. You got a death wish or something, kid?"

"I'm so sorry!"

The brat ducked his head in a hasty bow and bolted.

No one had ever called me handsome, but I'd lost count of how many people had mentioned my intimidating face. Most people bolted at a single glare.

The 1,200-won can of coffee he'd left behind sat all alone on the counter.

So much for raising sales.

"Hehe... you said... girlfriend..."

Ji Yesol had gone scarlet.

Why was she getting all thrilled about it?

"Next time somebody asks for your number or anything else, tell them you don't have one. Got it?"

"Y-yes...!"

I laid down the rule with all the firmness I could muster.

Granted, today I'd had no choice but to play the boyfriend.

But who in their right mind would want to date an anomaly?

Getting hauled away for being one was still the better fate.

"Let's keep practicing until a real customer shows up. The greetings seem mostly down, so... do you know where things are?"

At a convenience store, customers usually carry their own items to the register.

But not everything works that way.

"Do you know where the trash bags are?"

"Yes... I-I'll go look...!"

Ji Yesol was elbow-deep in the snack aisle—an aisle about as related to trash bags as Mars.

I was pretty sure I'd told her, first lesson, that they lived under the counter.

Weren't those supposed to be the easy ones?

Anomaly or human, this was pure brainpower.

Ji Yesol's Memory stat was a C.

If I'd known a C could be this catastrophic, I'd have skipped the greeting drills and had her memorize product locations instead.

I grabbed a notebook and pen from the household-goods aisle, tore off the wrapping, and pressed them into her hands.

"From now on, anything I teach you, you write down in here. Every single thing."

"Yes... th-thank you...!"

She bowed over and over, grinning ear to ear like this was the first thing anyone had ever given her.

"Uh-oh."

Too busy beaming to cover her forehead.

Centipedes rained onto the floor.

Plop! Thud!

Truly, a part-timer unlike any other.

"I-I'm sorry..."

"Clean that up, quick."

"Yes..."

Ji Yesol scrubbed at the counter with everything she had. One pass of the rag and it gleamed like new.

Forget the training—maybe I should just make her the dedicated cleaning staff.

No customers around, so I supposed I'd go straighten up the shelves. The moment I lifted myself off the chair—

Ding—

What?

Ghost stories?