The Third Customer
I hadn't asked for a neat tuxedo or a polite, mannerly personality. Even so, this crossed the line.
"Hey! If you don't order right now, you'll lose everything but your underwear!"
"Why do I have to strip down to my underwear just to order?"
"Isn't that how it's done?"
Is that how it's done?
"Come on, repeat after me. 'Welcome, customer. How may I help you?'"
"Uh, come on in!! What do I gotta help with to get everything?!"
"No!! Can't you even repeat it?!"
"I repeated it exactly!"
"Where's the 'exactly' in that?!"
Sigh, no use talking. I could kinda see why Gu Ja-jin had snapped, 'These stupid bastards!!'
Gu Ja-jin had real talent for it. As a former strategist, he quickly grasped the convenience store's systems.
"Wh-whoaaa!! Th-this is the fr-fridge...?"
They still had a long way to go before getting used to modern stuff.
I watched the bandits scurrying around inside and outside the store.
Hwa Hyo-seon had gladly accepted my proposal. As long as I became their strategist, she didn't care what else.
I'd thought "strategist" meant something grand, but nope—total misunderstanding.
The Green Forest Seven Villages bandits really did jack squat. Hunt a bit, drink, yap all day—that was it.
A strategist barely had any role here. Gu Ja-jin had confirmed it: nothing much to do.
What was Hwa Hyo-seon up to? She should've been goofing off like the rest, but surprisingly, she was diligently learning the ropes. Her influence was why the bandits were actually picking up work instead of slacking.
She'd rallied them: 'Bandits need a big change! No more fretting over officials and scraping by on plunder! From now on, we work hard, wear nice clothes, eat meat sides!!'
Thanks to her, everyone learned without much pushback.
"Ow, hot!!"
Hwa Hyo-seon spilled the entire hot ramen cup while pouring water. Red broth splattered everywhere, half-cooked noodles oozing out.
"You okay?"
I grabbed a towel and rushed over. She seemed less fazed by her scalded finger than by the water heater itself, eyes wide in shock.
"No fire, and the water gets this hot? Some invisible flame inside or what?"
Too annoying to explain, so I just nodded. Her eyes sparkled like a kid's as she stared at the machine again, completely ignoring her red finger.
I pulled an ice cup from the freezer nearby, wrapped it in a towel, and pressed it to her finger.
"Ooh! So much of this pricey, rare water ice...!"
Now she was mesmerized by the ice. I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Did you just laugh, Strategist?"
"Ah, sorry. It's just cute how you geek out over everything."
"Cu-cute...?"
I handed her the ice-wrapped towel for her left hand.
"Keep it on. It'll scar if you don't."
Then I fetched the mop.
Crash! Bang!
Just as I went to clean the ramen mess, the bandits were causing more chaos.
"Ah, Strategist! It all spilled...!"
Sigh. Exhausting.
When would these guys finally handle their jobs without turning everything upside down? Right now, I felt like a nanny chasing after hyperactive kids.
To train them properly so the store could run without me, it'd take time—slow and steady.
As I mopped up the broth, a sudden wave of grievance hit me.
"Where the hell is Yoo Hwa-yeon anyway?"
Store this slammed, and not a peep from her? What was she even doing?
Sweat beaded on Yoo Hwa-yeon's forehead and trickled down. She stared fixed at one spot.
Thrusting stance: arm extended straight, left leg pulled back. Perched precariously on the tip of her sword—at the end of that rigid arm—was a falling leaf.
She'd held it there, unmoving, for nearly thirty minutes. Impressive already, but she wasn't one to settle easily.
If only I were a little stronger.
Yoo Hwa-yeon kept replaying the Black Eagle Gang wrecking the inn... and the bandits showing up.
If she'd been stronger, couldn't she have protected the inn? Saved the owner?
She recalled Kim Jung-hyun's face while talking with Hwa Hyo-seon. Deep worry. Concern etched in. That forced smile pretending it was fine.
Her molars ground together. If stronger, she could've swept those bandits aside. No grave worries for the owner. No forced ties, no hiring them as errand boys.
But facing Hwa Hyo-seon, she hadn't dared jump in. The woman seemed full of openings, yet victory felt impossible. Hated admitting it as the youngest daughter of the Orthodox Murim Alliance, but she was in a higher realm.
First time ever. Thinking beyond food.
She'd lived dismissing martial arts as pointless. But now, post-incident, she regretted slacking on practice.
Should've trained harder. Just a bit more, a bit more.
Flutter.
Distracted thoughts made the leaf tremble and plummet.
"Tch."
Failure again. Not even half an hour. She wiped sweat with her sleeve.
As she moved to try another leaf—
Whoosh—whoosh.
Two daggers flew at her.
Clang!
She deflected them effortlessly, then aimed her sword at a bush far from where they'd come.
"Who's there. Show yourself."
"As expected. The skill that beat me hasn't dulled."
"You?"
It was none other than Black Eagle Gang's deputy leader, Gwak Sang-hyeon. The guy who'd come to kill her, got stabbed in the shoulder, and got patched up by the owner.
"Gwak Sang-hyeon?"
"What an honor. You even remember my name."
"Wasn't that settled back then? Here to grab me again...?"
He raised both hands.
"Nah. Client stiffed us on payment, so the boss scrapped the job. Still don't like you, but no reason to kill."
Only then did she lower her raised blade.
"Pretty cocky talk. Sounds like you could kill me anytime."
"Training hard, huh? What's an inn errand boy swinging a sword for?"
She sheathed it and turned away sharply.
"None of your business."
"Don't tell me it's because of Seven Villages Chief Hwa Hyo-seon?"
Yoo Hwa-yeon's steps halted.
In the deepening twilight forest, she turned back to the shadow.
"Told you it's not your business."
"Hwa Hyo-seon? Worth tucking tail and running. She's a powerhouse even Sado-ryeon knows."
A vein throbbed on her forehead. This bastard—keeps needling me on purpose?
She was training because of that.
Gwak smirked like he knew.
"Guess you didn't learn enough last time?"
"Wasn't mercy."
"Then I'll show you today."
"Shoulder last time. Heart today."
"Long tongue!"
Their swords clashed in midair. Sparks flew before the bright full moon amid the calm night.
Right then, Yoo Hwa-yeon could finally stop thinking. Her foe wasn't some pushover she could afford to half-ass.
Gwak Sang-hyeon and Yoo Hwa-yeon dueled until the moon dipped and the new sun rose, finally dropping their blistered hands to the ground.
Lying spread-eagle, Yoo raised a hand to the sky.
I'll protect the owner. No matter what.
Just because of the food? Or something more?
She couldn't pinpoint her feelings, but one thing was crystal: protecting the owner.
Her palm stung fiercely.
"Where were you yesterday?"
"Sorry, owner. Had some thinking to do."
She looked relieved. Whatever weighed on her mind, glad it lifted.
Crash! Bang!
No sooner had I smiled than that spine-chilling racket hit again.
Damage Cost: 1 silver tael, 13 copper coins.
Yeah. Yesterday alone, these idiots racked up 1 silver tael and 13 coppers in breakage. They hadn't touched the inn, but might as well be straight-up robbers.
Maybe they were high-IQ types faking dumb to bleed me dry?
"St-strategist! Won't budge even with force..."
Ah. Yeah, yeah.
Told 'em to handle it like fragile kids—no grip strength. But they'd never dealt with kids. Guys who freeze crying babies with terror—what'd they know about cradling one?
I sighed deeply, and Yoo Hwa-yeon stepped up.
"Loosen your grip."
"Who're you to boss me?"
A bandit, flustered over shattered ramen cups, glared at her.
Whoa. Time for some hierarchy training?
"Senior. Senior. Came before you guys."
"Se-senior...?"
"Treat her proper. Or you're out on the street."
"Y-yes, ma'am."
Yoo picked up a fallen ramen cup.
"Concentrate like circulating inner power method. Like this."
Then she started juggling the ramen cups.
Juggling? What, circus act?
But damn, she was good. Were all murim folk naturals?
"Ooh, like this! Senior, that right?"
"Not bad."
The bandit started juggling too. Expert level. The same guy who couldn't pick up a thing without crushing it.
I scratched my cheek. Some murim telepathy?
Whatever. Left the bandits to her and stepped out for a smoke.
One huge blessing in murim: store came with cigs. Pro smoker like me? Impossible without 'em.
Click, hiss.
Lit up, puff—exhale.
Acrid smoke trailed into the air.
Aaah, this hit the spot. Savored the buzz—
"Uh, excuse me."
Someone spoke up. Elderly man, wild white hair. His cane was etched deep with years.
Quickly hid the cig, bowed.
"Welcome. Right this way."
"No, that. That thing."
Pointed at my right hand.
Huh? This? The cig?
"What's that?"
"Tobacco."
"Tobacco! Tobacco..."
Awkwardly fished one from the pack.
"Want... one?"
It vanished from my hand in a flash. He turned it over like some exotic treasure.
Looks like a new customer.