If the Anomaly Is a Nightmare Customer (1)

I stared at the status window, dumbstruck.

Ghost story business, starting tomorrow at midnight?

And a daily one, on top of that?

So every single midnight, I was going to be summoned into a ghost story.

"Unbelievable..."

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

My head throbbed, so I pressed a hand to my temple.

Ji Yesol, who had been wiping down the counter, bowed her head.

Plop. Drop. A centipede tumbled out of her forehead.

My part-timer was an anomaly.

And now, on top of that, I was to be dragged into ghost stories every night?

Was this why I'd opened a convenience store?

What I'd wanted when I opened the place was a perfectly ordinary life — one with no ties to ghost stories whatsoever.

Maybe.

Maybe if I hadn't needlessly stepped in, back then...

No.

Picking apart the past got me nothing.

"Yesol, a centipede's falling."

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

Ji Yesol snatched up her rag and scrubbed the counter down all over again.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time.

Ghost story business began at midnight.

Which left me a little over fifteen hours.

Generous, as preparation windows went.

Back in my Company days, I'd occasionally been deployed with barely thirty seconds' warning.

Experience was a fine thing to have, but I'd never wanted to spend it like this.

If there was one problem, it was this: I had no idea what kind of ghost story I'd be walking into at midnight tomorrow.

Ghost stories that had already been cleared came with grades assigned by the Company.

F-Grade through S-Grade.

F-Grade was trivial enough for ordinary civilians to clear on their own.

S-Grade was the level where, left uncleared long enough, you had to start worrying about the end of the world.

There was even an Outer-God Grade for the ones off the scale entirely. Literally off the scale — so I'll skip it.

The ghost story Ji Yesol had come out of, Solitude, was C-Grade.

The kind of story three field agents in full ghost-story-suppression gear could clear.

Uncleared ghost stories, though — no answers there.

You had to puzzle out the clear method from the survival rules alone.

I'd been a field agent right up until the day I quit.

Which is to say, I was hopeless at solving ghost stories on paper.

I glanced around the store, then opened my mouth carefully.

"Ahem. Status window."

Why was so much of it hidden?

Well — no, fair enough.

I'd quit the Company. It was a miracle I could use even this much.

Information was leverage; the more of it, the better.

That held true no matter which ghost story you entered.

When you got thrown into one that couldn't be cleared with strength and weapons alone, the more you carried in your head, the better your odds of walking out alive.

"Yesol, come here a moment."

"Y-yes...!"

"Have you ever been dragged into a ghost story before?"

Asking an anomaly about ghost stories was a joke on its face,

but if she didn't know, someone had to teach her.

"Y-yes... th-the Solitude, so..."

"No. I'm talking about a different ghost story."

Shake, shake. Ji Yesol shook her head.

Figured.

Ghost stories were anomaly territory, through and through.

Like territorial animals, no anomaly in its right mind would ever open its domain to another.

"Write down everything I tell you from here on. Ghost story business prep starts now."

"Yes... Boss...!"

I walked her through the basic survival rules for humans in ghost stories.

I had my doubts about whether an anomaly needed human survival rules,

but Ji Yesol transcribed every word with painstaking care.

With that kind of determination on display, the training might actually pay off someday.

Now then — how much progress had the part-timer training made?

I was going to lose my mind.

Every last one of these mini quests would be cleared before midnight.

"Yesol, finished cleaning?"

"Y-yes...!"

"Then find me some Tylenol."

Convenience stores were allowed to sell a limited range of medicine.

The medicine corner was easy to miss, so customers ended up asking the clerk for it more often than not.

I quietly started a stopwatch.

Ding—

Ten minutes. That was how long it took her to find the Tylenol.

Current time: 11:48 PM.

I took stock of the supplies I'd bought from the shop.

"Five first-aid kits, three Solitude antidotes. One set each of attack gear and defense gear for the F-Grade ghost story Hug Me."

I'd have loved to buy equipment for the higher grades, but the points weren't there.

Maybe I shouldn't have spent that antidote on Yang Nari.

Ji Yesol, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meanwhile, simply stood there staring blankly at my preparations.

Had she not been an anomaly, it was the kind of face that earned a knuckle-rap on the head.

Couldn't let her idle around, though.

"Now, your final training."

"Y-yes... Boss...!"

"One answer per question."

"Yes..."

No time to be thorough — a crash course it was.

"Never leave my side."

"Yes!"

"Inside the ghost story, you do only what I tell you to."

"Yes!"

She was excellent at answering.

The answering, anyway.

"If I happen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to die—"

If I died?

She'd simply return to her own ghost story, presumably.

Ji Yesol was an anomaly, after all.

There I went, worrying over an anomaly for nothing.

"Yes?"

"...Never mind."

"D-don't die...!"

Without warning, Ji Yesol raised her voice.

"I-I don't want you to die, Boss..."

All my life, and I'd finally been fussed over by an anomaly.

Watching her, it was hard not to think she seemed less like a monster and more like a kid sister.

Tap. I rested my hand on top of her head.

Knowing Ji Yesol's temperament, she wasn't about to kill a human over a head pat.

"It's fine. I don't die that easily."

"B-Boss..."

Ji Yesol's nose had turned red.

She looked ready to spill venomous insects out of her eyes in place of tears.

"Don't cry."

"Yes...!"

"Crying makes the store dirty."

Nod. Ji Yesol bobbed her head slowly, like something in her had deflated.

So what if that chipped away a little of her affection. What was I supposed to do about it?

I swallowed dryly.

It wasn't as if this were my first or second time entering a ghost story.

So why was my heart pounding like this?

Because it was only my second time going in as a convenience store owner, that was why.

Outside the windows, the scenery began warping into something grotesque.

The streetlights that had lit the hillside twisted out of existence one by one.

The asphalt road in front of the store curled in on itself like a sheet of paper.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

And into the space they left behind, amusement rides came crashing down one after another.

"Damn it all."

Only my second time in, and it had to be this ghost story.

"Out of every ghost story to draw — why this one."

"Yes...? Is it... a high grade...?"

Hic. Ji Yesol hiccupped, pressing a hand over her upper lip.

She seemed to have retained my lecture on ghost story grades just fine.

"Yes. A-Grade. The one mercy is that it isn't an uncleared ghost story."

Ding—

According to the rules, the Shop Zone now listed four stores instead of three.

So our convenience store had been tacked onto the original three shops.

Most of the Neverland of Disaster's staff were anomalies.

Humans worked there too — as slaves.

And a convenience store, by its very nature, sold what human customers needed.

There wasn't a thing on our shelves an anomaly would want.

At this rate, they might as well have ordered us to brawl with the anomaly customers instead.

If no humans got dragged in, we didn't stand a chance.

"B-Boss... I d-don't understand the rules..."

"That's fine. The clear conditions for you and me aren't written in those rules anyway."

"Th-then what are we supposed to do..."

Ji Yesol scratched at her forehead, anxiety written all over her.

Chime—

Just then, the store door swung open.

An anomaly in a grubby, patchwork rabbit suit shuffled inside.

Cute at a glance — and skin-crawling the longer you looked.

Wonder Bunny, owner of "Bunny's Wonderland," one of the three shops of the Neverland of Disaster.

Scoping out the competition, was he?

"Welcome in."

"Hey. You the owner of this convenience store?"

The thing sprawled itself out across the floor.

"Let's see those customer service skills!"

CRACK!

He was heavy enough that the floor actually split.

I ground my teeth.

This bastard of a customer.

Did he have any idea what a single tile cost?

"For starters, one centipede skewer!"

"Customer, that ithem ithn't thtocked here… (We don't have that item.)"