Chapter 104

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠penny

Chapter: 104

Chapter Title: Hellish Night Shift

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes in life—no, scratch that, not even sometimes.

After about a year working part-time at a convenience store, you get to experience those weirdly busy days. Sudden stock shortages causing a panic, or days when, for some reason, everyone decides they just have to shop there.

But even accounting for all that, today was on a whole other level.

"Excuse me, do you know where the stir-fried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠udon is?"

"Oh, that's in the freezer section over here. Give it another look, and if you still can't find it, I'll come grab it for you."

"Thank you."

I'm losing my mind.

Customers buying stuff you hardly ever see moving, like nail clippers, poker cards, and Go-Stop decks. People grabbing over-the-counter meds we sell.

Shoppers loading up their baskets by sweeping up every last 2+1 deal. Folks running three microwaves at once. And groups cracking open soju at the outdoor tables.

Ugh!

A scream nearly escaped me.

What the hell is this?

Individually, none of these customers are a problem. But the second the manager leaves, they all swarm in at once like they've been waiting for it.

This was the first time since starting at the convenience store that I've been drenched in sweat just dealing with normal customers—no troublemakers involved.

"Hoo...!"

The bizarre customer rush that had lasted nearly two hours finally died down around 1 a.m. I collapsed into the chair behind the counter with a thud and caught my breath.

"What the actual fuck..."

Did the heavens themselves get moved by the manager's story? Did they send all these customers as a gift for the guy who loaned money to a friend he knew he'd never see it from again—a friend he hated, no less? But why dump them all on my shift?

"Hoo. I'm only putting up with this for that carton of smokes..."

I muttered under my breath, then grabbed my head and screamed.

Oh right—I quit smoking!

"Kwaaah!"

Me, the manager— we'd both gotten all sentimental and completely forgotten I'd quit. No, technically still quitting. Nah, couldn't be targeting that...

"So, what the hell was the manager trying to tell me, anyway?"

Forgive even the guy you hate most? Or that I'd make the same choice as him if I were in that spot?

Was that it?

"Hm."

I dragged my finger along the counter absentmindedly, thinking. People his age might actually pull that off. He's got that pure streak... you can still sense it sometimes.

"But that shit wouldn't fly with people these days. Not even a little."

These are scary times.

Live as kindly as the manager, and you might not just lose five million won—you could wake up with your nose cut off for real.

He called me MZ generation or whatever, but if I were actually that age? Forget five million—I'd have called the cops and cut ties on the spot.

"Happiness isn't some big deal..."

It's not, huh.

I swiped open an app I hadn't touched in ages.

I get it. All these SNS posts are just for show. The people posting them might be burning up inside.

Smart folks say SNS is poison for life. Korea got wrecked hard by this comparison culture, they claim.

"What can you do? Everyone's hooked already."

Even I, who checks once every few months, feel jealous and queasy seeing this crap.

Nice house, nice car.

Happy family, plenty of cash.

Everyone knows life's not just about that stuff. But if you have it? You're probably happy, right? Better than not having it.

Take me—unlike scraping by paycheck to paycheck, money's starting to pile up in my account now. Makes me feel at ease automatically.

"Hoo... No matter how I spin it, I never would've loaned that money."

To that bragging asshole of a friend?

Even if he clung to my legs begging, I'd have found a way to say no. Maybe not cut him off cold, but still.

Yeah. Fuck that.

Stuff like that only happens in dramas—borrowing with big promises and paying back later. In real life, those kinds of guys wrecked my family. We lived in a jeonse deposit because Dad's "friend" who borrowed money bought an apartment in Seoul with it.

If that bastard went bankrupt, I'd straight-up tell him he deserved it right to his face. No cap.

Ding-a-ling!

The chime snapped me out of it, and I stood up.

"Welcome."

Today's really a customer magnet. Three full-on parties pounding drinks outside right now.

Thinking about cleaning up later already makes my head spin.

Crash!

"Gasp! Sorry!"

"...It's fine."

It's not. I swallowed hard sighs inside as I stared at the two shattered soju bottles on the floor.

The customer felt bad enough to pay, but that's separate.

Doesn't change the fact I have to pick up glass and mop.

"Tch, hoo."

I grabbed the broom and mop to clean. Meanwhile, those outdoor parties kept popping in for snacks or ice cream one by one.

Yeah, sure, grab what you need. Just please don't trash the tables. Please!

Ah. My luck's off today.

Lots of customers mean incidents happen... but something feels off. Spine-tingling.

Hope my gut's wrong. These instincts always hit like a ghost.

Quest's almost done too.

[AM 3:14]

"Hey, punk! You can't study on the clock! You little shit!"

"...That'll be two bottles of soju and..."

"Listen when an adult's talking to you, you punk!"

"......"

"You think studying here at a convenience store gig is gonna get you anywhere? No way, kid. You'll end up right back here."

The hiccuping finger-pointing drunk—I nearly swung on him right then.

I might've held back before. Now? Those words hit harder. Maybe 'cause I'm actually grinding. Or scared they'll come true. Probably both.

"Fuck."

Couldn't hold the curse in. And the ordeal didn't end at 4 a.m.

"Exchange these for me."

"Pardon?"

This old guy—barely grandpa age yet—shoving two soju bottles and a fancy photo album at me. I was baffled.

Wait. Barter? Heard about this from convenience store part-timers, but first time in a year.

"S-Sorry, sir, we don't do barters here."

"Argh! Even a pawnshop would give two bottles for this! Just take it!"

For a second, I was so annoyed I'd cover the damn soju myself. But I shook my head. Give an inch, they'll come back.

Fuck! Assholes like this are why I end up hardening up.

Selfish world's the only way to happiness!

"Cut it out! Keep this up, I'll call the cops. One button and they're here."

"You punk! This is expensive! Two bottles of soju! Fine, one then!"

"Sir! You can't do this!"

...But in the end, I paid for one soju and a ramen out of pocket to send him packing. Damn it. Cursed!

"Next time, I'm really calling the cops, you fucker!"

Yelling after him waddling off with his soju? Pathetic as hell.

"Fuck."

How do these types always act the same?

Ruined themselves, now screwing others. Selling family photos for cheap soju? That thirsty?

Would've cleaned tables to clear my head, but on days like this, the outdoor parties actually tidy up spotless.

Whoa, even wiped with wet wipes.

"Man... If only they did this every day. Please."

Probably 'cause that polite young group cleaned up proper. Others saw and followed quiet-like.

"Ha."

Who knows how many "pleases" I've muttered today. Not easy, that's for sure.

Finally over, I thought, folding tables to head inside. Nope—a crazy bastard's camped in the corner, passed out.

"Hey, sir!"

Cold sweat, hot sweat, every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sweat—I begged for ten minutes straight. No dice. Called the cops.

Aw, fuck! Today...

[AM 4:53]

Sentimental time hits, and today's assholes replay in my head. From the one who insulted me to the barter villain... and more.

Should I have just called cops on all? Or punched a face for catharsis? Honestly, no clue.

When they're not around, I swear that's the answer. Everyone says so.

Justice served. Refreshing.

That's the line. But face-to-face? I hold back or talk it out.

"Look at me. Dad's spitting image. Fucking clone."

Dad tried tough rejections too—said we couldn't afford it, no room for that. But next morning? Slipping cash quietly into their hands.

Then wiping tears alone in some church alley he didn't even attend.

"Agh. Fuck!"

Made me mad for no reason. That's what he'd always say seeing me.

Only brag he had: living kindly enough to face me and sis proud. If that's his one boast, ain't that a problem?

First time for family month stuff, parents' birthdays, etc.

Finally got why a friend said event expenses are his biggest outlay.

This shit adds up quick when you actually handle it.

I sighed softly, pocketed my phone. Then 5 a.m. rolled around—more customers.

"Sob, hear my story, please."

Guy's wasted, tears streaming, repeating the same sob story on loop.

Damn it. I'm the one who wants to cry! Me!

[AM 7:45]

Manager arrives, sees my face, jumps.

"...What happened? You were all fresh-faced before shift end. Now you look half-dead."

What happened? Plenty. Way too much.