Even If My Junior Shows Up at My Part-Time Job, an Assa Is Still an Assa
Saturday afternoon. -Ding.
“Hello.”
I bowed politely as I pushed open the convenience store door and stepped inside. Behind the register stood a kind-looking middle-aged woman—our store manager—who greeted me with a warm, crinkly-eyed smile.
“Come on in. You’re awfully early, aren’t you?”
She glanced up at the clock above her. I checked it too and saw it had just passed 4:20. My substitute shift today only needed me until five, so yeah, I really had shown up fast.
“Yeah. Didn’t have anything else to do at home.”
It wasn’t a lie. After pulling an all-nighter at the store yesterday, I’d woken up at 3:30 p.m. I was a little sleepy, but it felt like a weird time to crawl back into bed, and I had nothing better to do, so I’d just washed up and headed straight over.
“As expected of our store’s ace. That mindset is on another level.”
The manager clapped her hands. ……Is that all it takes? I’d only come early because it beat showing up late, but her sudden praise left me feeling awkward.
Embarrassed, I slipped into the small break room in the back, pulled on the short-sleeved vest with the store logo, and came back out.
“Can I ask our ace for one little favor?”
The moment I reappeared, she dove right in. Her tone screamed annoying task incoming. I felt a flicker of wariness, but I kept my smile and nodded.
“Sure. What is it?”
“Well, it’s nothing major, but I have a family gathering tonight. I’ll probably need to head out around six. Think you could watch the store by yourself, Sunwoo?”
Ah. She was about to dump the entire evening inventory restock on me. My face almost stiffened at how obvious the move was—until she added the magic words.
“I’ll throw in an extra thirty thousand won for today. Sound good?”
“Of course that’s fine. If you’re busy, you can leave right now.”
My drooping smile rocketed upward into full customer-service mode. Get saddled with extra work and earn thirty thousand more? Only an idiot would turn that down. A complete fool.
When I answered with a bright grin, the manager smiled back like she’d known I’d agree and gave my back a couple of pats.
“Great. Then I’ll trust our ace completely, okay?”
“Yes. Just leave it to me. I’ll make sure everything’s perfectly organized.”
Excited by the extra thirty thousand, I’d answered with a touch of over-the-top enthusiasm. Apparently she really was ready to bolt immediately, because she stepped out from behind the register and started toward the break room before pausing.
“Oh, right. One more thing I forgot to mention.”
“Yes?”
“The new hire starts this afternoon around five. Could our ace give them a little training?”
She turned and casually dumped even more work on me.
No way. She’d already shoved the inventory on me, and now she wanted me to train the newbie too? Sure, convenience store work was easy and there wasn’t much to teach, but this felt like too much. This time my face went completely deadpan.
“If you handle that as well, I’ll add another twenty thousand—fifty total. Deal?”
“Yes. Of course it’s fine!”
I nodded with an even brighter smile than before. I waited until the manager finished getting ready to leave, then bowed deeply with perfect politeness.
“Have a good evening, Manager!”
The second she was gone, I clenched my fist tight.
Dumped with work twice and paid fifty thousand?!
This was the mother of all windfalls. If getting extra tasks meant extra cash, I’d happily get “paid to get dumped on” every single day. For someone living alone, money was never enough no matter how much you had!
-Wait.
This wasn’t the time to be celebrating. I snapped out of it after a long moment of glee. The new hire was coming at five, so I’d better finish the prep work first.
Following the shift checklist, I swept the floors, cleaned outside, organized the shelves, and handled the occasional customers who wandered in. The thirty minutes I’d had flew by in what felt like the blink of an eye.
It was already five o’clock—the exact time the manager had said the newcomer would arrive.
-Ding.
A cheerful bell rang while I was straightening a shelf. Figuring it was either a customer or the new hire, I straightened up and greeted them brightly.
“Welcome!”
But—
“Ah, hello. Is this the right… huh?”
“Huh?”
It was neither.
The person who’d opened the door was a face I’d seen several times before. Long brown hair with slight waves at the ends, a fairly sharp impression—my junior from the same department.
“It’s Alpha Male senior!”
It was Kim Hayun. The moment she spotted me, she broke into a huge grin and bounded over.
“Senior, you work part-time here?”
Her outfit was casual. White t-shirt, short denim shorts, baseball jacket, and a cap with a specific team’s logo—like she’d just stepped out for a neighborhood walk.
What, does she like baseball? Most girls weren’t into ball sports. Interesting.
After a brief thought, I nodded.
“Yeah. I told you yesterday, remember? That I work here.”
“Ah~ Right. You did say that, didn’t you?”
Kim Hayun acted like she was hearing it for the first time. As expected. She hadn’t listened to a word I’d said back then. I’d had a weird feeling while talking to her. Guess my instincts had picked up that she wasn’t actually paying attention.
Well, it was pretty on-brand for Kim Hayun to tease me nonstop by calling me “Alpha Male senior.” So it wasn’t exactly surprising.
Still, seeing a familiar face was nice, so I smiled a little.
“Did you come to buy cigarettes?”
I’d asked because girls dressed like that at PC bangs usually chain-smoked. But Kim Hayun shook her head like I’d said something ridiculous.
“No, I don’t smoke?”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. Never even tried it.”
I see. The fact that she’d never even taken a single puff was genuinely surprising. We were basically still strangers, so it felt weird to think it, but no matter how many times I saw her, Kim Hayun’s face reading was completely different from Mo Yuna’s or Chae Songha’s.
“Ah, wait a second.”
One of Kim Hayun’s eyebrows suddenly shot up.
“Are you seriously saying I look like the type who smokes?”
“…….”
Not just the type—I’d have bet money on it. Especially with that outfit.
“No, you smelled like cigarettes the second you walked in, so I asked.”
I shrugged, figuring blunt honesty might make her mad. The cigarette smell is real, after all. I wasn’t some fortune-teller; I hadn’t asked just because of her vibe. There was a reason.
“Eh, for real?!”
Shocked, Kim Hayun sniffed at her baseball jacket. A moment later she must have caught the faint scent on herself too, because she stopped, looking embarrassed.
“……Hey, it does smell a little? …Just a little.”
She twisted the ends of her hair, sneaking glances at me. She seemed mortified by the misunderstanding.
“Then maybe smoke in moderation next time. How much have you been smoking that you didn’t even notice the smell on your clothes?”
I tossed it out half-joking, half-serious. Kim Hayun looked ready to snap for a second, but then remembered her own fault and muttered while looking away.
“I told you I don’t smoke?! …It’s because I go to the PC bang a lot.”
“PC bang?”
Weren’t they all non-smoking these days? The question popped into my head, but—
“Yeah. You can’t smoke at the seats, but the smoking room is open, so if people who just smoked keep hanging around, the smell soaks into your clothes whether you want it to or not.”
Her explanation made perfect sense. Ah, that tracks. Even if she didn’t smoke herself, the scent would still cling to her. Back in the military my bunkmate had been a chain-smoker.
Just being near him had made my own clothes smell, even though he used deodorant and washed everything constantly. So if she really went to the PC bang often in those clothes, it made sense.
“Got it. So you like games?”
I smoothly changed the subject before the cigarette talk could get any more awkward. Kim Hayun’s face suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Senior, you like games too?!”
“Huh? Ah, well…”
If it was a like-or-dislike question, the answer was obviously yes. Most guys liked games.
“I like them, yeah.”
“For real?! What kind of games?!”
“Just shooting ones?”
“There are tons of shooting games! Be specific—no, just the name! What shooter do you like?!”
Why is she suddenly so intense? I was a little taken aback by how passionately she reacted to the word “games.” Maybe the PC bang excuse really wasn’t a lie.
Well, there was really only one shooter I played anyway, so I answered without much thought.
“Luxury Watch 2.”
“!!!”
Kim Hayun’s eyes flew wide open, like she’d been waiting for exactly those words.
“Tier!”
She took another step closer. The distance was now pretty intimate.
“What’s your tier?!”
“Uh… tier?”
“Yes! I’m Platinum!”
She blurted out her own rank before I could even answer. She didn’t specify role, so it’s probably quick-play tier… Platinum in quick play—where climbing was way easier than in role-locked competitive—usually meant her real skill was around Gold. A pretty big gap from me.
Hmm.
Telling someone whose quick-play rank was Platinum that I was Master in role-locked competitive might come off as bragging. Should I say it honestly or not? I was still debating when—
“Maybe Gold? Or Silver?”
Kim Hayun started guessing. Since I wasn’t answering, she seemed to think my rank was too low to admit.
“Ah, no. You’re Bronze, right? That’s why you’re too embarrassed to say it?”
“…….”
Bronze? I can let a lot of things slide, but I absolutely cannot tolerate getting trash-talked in game ranks.
My eyebrows twitched. I opened my mouth.
“What are you on about? I’m Master.”
“──?! Master?!”
“Yeah. I’m Master on DPS in competitive. And—”
I was about to add I haven’t tried quick play, but if I wanted to I could hit Grand Master when—
“Senior. No—Oppa!”
Grab!
Kim Hayun suddenly seized the hem of my shirt.
“Please carry meee!!”