Chapter 47
Chapter 47
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Scrap-Picking Kids (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It's been a full month since I became the cafe owner.
At first, it felt uncomfortable and exhausting, like wearing clothes that didn't fit, but now it's completely familiar—the cafe feels like my own home.
"Cafe Owner! We're out of apples!"
"There's some set aside in the storage room, so go grab them and use those."
Thankfully, the staff were handling the busy cafe schedule without issue and keeping up.
I'd been worried that they might quit after just a month with how hectic it was, but it was a real relief.
'Busy, so busy.'
Business was booming, leaving me no time to breathe as I spent my days in a frenzy.
Interestingly, it wasn't just me—Yura sis and Seo-yeon were just as swamped.
[With the U.S. President visiting this week, even we've been dragged into the chaos.]
Unlike in my previous life, there was no military in this world now.
Hunters served as the military, so for events like important foreign dignitaries visiting, hunters were mobilized—and naturally, Millennium Guild was top priority.
Of course, heroes were mobilized too, but being busy was the same either way.
'And Seo-yeon got pulled in too?'
Seo-yeon wasn't a hunter, but her skills in the digital realm were unmatched, so she was on duty preparing for potential cyber threats.
[Jun-hyuk, I'll wrap this up quick and come hang out again!]
Maybe her job was easier than a real hunter's.
Or perhaps her skills were just that good—her confident tone brimmed with determination that she'd be back soon.
"She really does seem like she'll come soon."
But something felt off.
We'd officially started dating both of them, yet we hadn't even had a proper date lately—what was the difference from just flirting?
'And what do I even call this...'
This was an era of reversed gender roles.
I'd assumed the women would come on strong about sex first, but neither had demanded it from me.
'What I need here is empathy. Reverse filter on!'
Two men competing over one woman.
In a situation where both are trying to impress her, neither demands sex.
So the reason would be...
"They want to seem sweet?"
It's not your body I want—it's true love.
So I won't have sex until you ask for it first!
Something like that?
'...Is that really it?'
According to my hobby of "Harem Wars," there were plenty of guys demanding breakups over excessive sexual demands from the women.
Had they watched that too?
It was just speculation, nothing certain, so I'd subtly probe when we had some downtime.
"So-young, can you mind the counter for a bit?"
"Yes! Cafe Owner!"
Finishing my thoughts, I returned to reality. Taking a short break, I headed out the back door to toss the trash, and once again, the cardboard was gone.
"They already picked it up today."
The scrap vanished quickly. No need to call a service—the collectors came by every day.
Business was good, so it piled up fast, but knowing it helped them made me feel good.
"And they enjoyed the cookies too."
The cookies I'd prepared for them disappeared daily too. What filled my chest with pride were the notes written neatly beside the paper stacks.
[Thank you. We ate well.]
The tidy handwriting exuded politeness just from looking at it, making my small act of kindness feel rewarded.
'But can they really make a living just from scrap?'
I'd thought scrap fetched around 3,000 won per kg before, but a quick search showed it was only 138 won.
1,380 won for 10 kg.
13,800 won for 100 kg—so they'd need to collect at least half a ton a day to get by?
"Hmm..."
I wanted to help these polite, wonderful people.
But handing them cash directly felt wrong.
'Was it the Talmud? Yeah, that one.'
Don't give a man a fish—teach him how to fish.
What if I hired them at the cafe?
'We're so swamped right now, I was debating hiring more staff anyway.'
If serving was too tough, they could do cleaning.
Or stock sorting or dishes—plenty of jobs regardless of age.
"Alright. Next time, I'll meet them in person and ask."
From the pickup times, it was roughly between 5 and 7 p.m., so checking the back door often then should work.
Sorting scrap would take time, so checking every 10 to 20 minutes ought to catch them.
The next day, without delay, I started periodically checking the back door right after 5 p.m.
'Not here yet.'
When would they show? I wanted to see their happy faces with the good news.
After pacing to the back door a few times, just past 6 p.m....
'They're here!'
The rustling beyond the unopened back door told me they'd arrived.
'Alright, then...'
I straightened my clothes and opened the door.
And saw.
"Hel..."
A rickety cart on the verge of falling apart.
And a girl and boy in school uniforms, diligently picking up scrap.
"Ah..."
The boy, who looked like a middle schooler with a youthful face, froze upon seeing me and stopped picking.
"S-Sorry!"
Before I could respond, the girl, who seemed like a high schooler, bowed deeply in apology.
'I thought they were elders, not kids like this.'
I was startled for a moment, but they were more shocked, so I spoke first.
"No need to apologize. You know I left cookies for you to enjoy, right? Take as much as you want."
They were still kids, but I didn't use casual speech.
I didn't know the reason yet, but picking up near-worthless scrap couldn't be just for pocket money—they were working for survival, and I didn't want to dismiss them with casual talk just because they were young.
"But you're still students, right? Why are students picking up scrap?"
"W-Well..."
Grrrrumble!
Just then, the boy's stomach growled. The boy, his cute face flushing red, hung his head in embarrassment.
"If it's okay, could you wait a moment?"
Cookies weren't enough—I needed something more filling.
＊＊＊
"Thank you! We'll eat well!"
I brought out cake and drinks from the cafe menu, and after hesitating at first, they devoured them, remembering the cookies I'd given before.
"Sis, try this. It's super tasty!"
"Yeah, yeah!"
The siblings got along great.
Communities treated close siblings like fantasy, but here they were in real life.
'What on earth happened?'
Why were these kids picking up scrap?
The boy seemed like her blood brother, not from a factory, and they clearly had parents.
Had they lost them in some accident like me?
'Wouldn't they go to an orphanage then?'
I'd avoided one thanks to the house my parents left and my strong will, but these kids looked poor enough that an orphanage would've been normal.
'Orphanage, huh...'
Maybe there was an issue there.
Seo-yeon would know about orphanages—I'd ask her soon.
'But would they tell me even if I asked?'
When I caught them picking scrap, both looked ashamed.
Kids knew shame too, so questions about family finances would embarrass them.
Even without that, prying into a new acquaintance's home life was rude.
So I approached from another angle.
"Um, sorry to ask while you're eating, but can I ask one thing?"
"...Yes!"
"Isn't picking up scrap tough?"
The girl nodded hesitantly after a moment.
It was hard even for adults—of course for kids.
"What if you could do easier work and earn more money?"
"...I'd like to earn more."
Good. They had the will.
As planned, I made the offer.
"How about working at our cafe? We're short on part-timers anyway. Things are so busy, we need extra hands."
"..."
The two kids went silent as clams.
Then, after a bit, the girl spoke.
"I'm sorry."
It wasn't what I'd expected.
"We can't work."
＊＊＊
"Hmm, orphanages don't particularly ban part-time jobs."
A little while after meeting the scrap-picking kids.
Seo-yeon visited the cafe after a long time.
"If anything, they encourage them. Builds independence, right?"
I'd guessed the kids were from an orphanage.
So I asked Seo-yeon, who grew up in one after the factory.
"Even if they banned it, orphanages aren't that bad. As you know, lots of kids are born via artificial insemination. They get plenty of national funding, so unless it's some rural one, the environment's like upper lower-class to lower middle-class."
Then why were those kids picking scrap?
And why reject my offer?
"Here you go. Thank you."
"Thanks. I'll enjoy it."
Just then, a staffer served drinks and cake.
The nasal-voiced employee scurried away.
"Those kids probably aren't from an orphanage. You're misunderstanding something, Jun-hyuk. Like you said, orphanage kids aren't that poor."
"Hmm, so they have parents?"
"Probably. Natural birth or single mom."
"Then what are their parents doing...?"
"Who knows. Something's wrong, I guess."
Seo-yeon looked at me approvingly.
"You're too kind-hearted, Jun-hyuk—that's your problem. Are poor people in the world just one or two? Even in our country, there are still shantytowns and tons on basic livelihood aid. You can't save them all just because they're poor."
She was right.
Right, but the image of those kids happily eating cake kept flashing in my mind.
"I can't save them all. But..."
I set down my fork midway to a cake bite.
I prided myself on a strong stomach, but not now—I couldn't eat.
"This encounter is fate, right? Even brushing sleeves is fate—so at least for the kids fate brought to me, I want to help somehow."
"Hmm, I see. Well, that's your charm, Jun-hyuk."
If you need help later, call me anytime.
I'll do my best!
Seo-yeon rolled up her sleeves and said energetically.
"Thanks."
Once I got closer to the kids and learned more, if there was a real issue, I'd ask then.
For muscle, Yura sis.
For info, Seo-yeon.
Having two people willing to help without hypnosis was reassuring.
"But Seo-yeon, I have something to say."
Reassuring was reassuring.
But I had to say it.
"W-What is it?"
Seeing her expectant face.
I knew this situation was deliberate.
"Seo-yeon."
"Yes!"
I didn't know what she was plotting.
"You stink."
To shut it down for good.
"The stench is so bad it's killing me."
Straight to the point.