Not Human?
“Alright, everyone ready?”
“Yep!”
“All prepared, sirrah!”
Today, Elena, Sylvia, and I were all geared up in our convenience store vests, steeling our resolve. The reason even Sylvia—who normally didn't come in at this hour—had shown up? It was the monthly feast day for the Imperial Palace Knights.
The knights were famous for their rigorous training and strict diets. According to their founding captain's creed, even eating had to be clean and efficient, so healthy meals were their staple. And it was true—their standards had risen because of it.
Anyway, unless they were out on missions in the capital or dispatched to the provinces, healthy food was all they got for the sake of their health. These guys who couldn't touch a drop of alcohol finally got one day a month to eat their fill: today.
The knights would hit up restaurants or scatter in small groups across the empire. And the biggest gathering spot? Always our DG Convenience Store. Last month, over a few hundred had swarmed us. With quitting time overlapping, it got insanely busy, so Sylvia pitched in on days like this too.
“They're starting to arrive.”
Off in the distance, a crowd in the empire's signature blue-and-gold uniforms approached.
“Make sure to pay us properly for the overtime!”
“Of course.”
“Boss, how about we hit up a real feast after this? It's been ages.”
Elena and Sylvia had racked up enough experience that even the incoming rush didn't faze them. Fair enough—it was a monthly ritual like clockwork. I could still vividly recall their faces the first time they faced down a squad of knights: pale as ghosts, fumbling registers left and right.
As we psyched ourselves up—
Ding-a-ling!
In came the knights in their blue training gear lined with gold. No stern uniforms or armor symbolizing their might, but they radiated a solid aura of resolve.
“Welcome! This is DG Convenience Store!”
They scanned the shelves with the eager eyes of privates hitting the PX for the first time. Even veterans only got this once a month. To them, it must've felt like a golden chariot rolling into a remote outpost. I'd never pulled outpost duty myself, but my buddies had raved about it—like Santa Claus with a sack of gifts.
These guys handled mana and bore noble titles, but when it came to food, status didn't matter.
“The air's so cool in here, unlike outside! A magic air conditioner...”
“Whoa! Ice cream! Isn't this the snack that sells out like crazy in the capital summers?”
A few rookies mixed in were bouncing around like kids in a toy store. Game time. No more chit-chat among us.
Ka-ching! Ka-ching! Sales racked up on the registers. Was this how restaurant owners felt watching a wrestling team barge in? It was satisfying. My lips kept curling into a grin.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Barcode scanner symphony.
“Total comes to 37 gold.”
“Next customer! Over here, please!”
“Please maintain order.”
Our voices rang out as we rang up items, took payment, and handed over bags.
“Whoa, that employee's a looker, huh?”
“DG's staff are pretty famous around the capital as the hottest.”
“Really?”
Knights whispering about our employees while queued up. Elena and Sylvia, swamped with customers, stayed focused without a clue. Famous in the capital? News to me.
I kept scanning barcodes but tuned into their chatter.
“Prettiest workers in the area, hands down. They could hold their own against academy noble girls or debutante ladies.”
“They got boyfriends?”
“Doubt it. But if you're thinking of confessing, give it up.”
“Why? I know Elena's a commoner. Status difference? I'm from fallen nobility myself, so that's no issue.”
“Nah, it's the manager standing next to her...”
Our eyes met mid-sentence. Busted.
“Boss, you gonna ring this up?”
Too engrossed, my hand had frozen on the scanner. I looked up and locked eyes with the knight in line. The senior knight who'd spoken hastily averted his gaze. Silence fell over them. I hustled with the scanner.
By the time the line halved—
“Ahem! Excuse me.”
A short-haired sky-blue knight cleared his throat and slid his items to Elena.
“Yes?”
“Here, for you.”
Not our store chocolate—artisanal ones from a famous nearby dessert shop, complete with a lettered box.
“What's this?”
“A letter with my feelings. My communication orb address is below too, so if you're interested...”
The rookie's shy confession. Face beet-red, he mumbled on.
“Please contact me at the address written there.”
This punk hitting on her?
“Sir, sorry, but approaching our staff like this is a problem.”
I stepped beside Elena and pushed back the chocolate.
“B-Boss?”
Elena glanced between us, flustered.
“If you're confessing, come back after closing when she's free. We're swamped as it is.”
“At least take the chocolate!”
I eyed Elena: Your call.
“Sorry. I can't accept it.”
She bowed with an apologetic, awkward smile. Rejected, the chocolate and letter returned to his chest.
Sorry, kid. Crushing your pure heart and all.
But Elena wasn't for these muscle-brained knights. She'd end up widowed if one died in battle after holing up alone. No way. Better introduce her to a solid merchant type. The guild head seemed decent—wouldn't let her suffer if they married.
“Alright, I'll ring these up for you.”
I grabbed the guy's items and headed to the register. Elena had suitors back in the day too—from alley thugs to upstanding guild workers. Her beauty and killer figure, plus that genuine smile melting hearts daily. Commoner status made it low-pressure for them.
I'd blocked them all. Dare ya. Just six months ago, she was underage! Confessing love to a minor? Might fly here, but not for a modern guy like me.
Now? Habit. Too many exploited her soft heart and inability to say no. If she wanted it, I wouldn't interfere. I just gave her an out by proxy.
If she accepted here? Musclehead knight, mad mage, assassin—whatever. I'd tearfully approve. This a dad's love?Dad, how'd you bear it?
“Strike out again today.”
“Poor guy. Told him not to bother.”
“He put real effort in, but Iron Wall Manager's no joke.”
Iron Wall Manager? Me?These punks nicknaming me on their own. Time for a little chat soon. They'd freak.
I kept ringing up, smirking inwardly.
“Sorry, I don't take personal contacts. Too busy with work.”
Sylvia shut it down with a smile—ruthless enough to make me flinch. No wonder with these testosterone-fueled knights. Even nobles attempted what commoners wouldn't dare. Gutsy.
“Flame Witch strikes again—two down already.”
Sylvia had a weird nickname too: Flame Witch. Suited her, I thought.
Made me wonder: What's Elena's? Never found out.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Phew, finally over.”
The knight storm had passed. Then quitting-time guild workers piled on—total chaos.
“Good work, everyone.”
“You too, sirrah!”
One more hour, and we'd be toast. No more “goodbye” chit-chat during rushes. Gotta train 'em.
“Grabbed feast grub from next door ahead of time. Dig in.”
I flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSE. Imperials wouldn't know the terms, but after three years, they got the gist.
—It's from the boss's hometown, they'd say. Easier than explaining English vs. Korean to Sejong the Great. Sorry, Your Majesty.
Steak, salad, and empire-trendy meat-veggie stir-fry.
“Eat up. It's quitting time—beer or wine if you want.”
But Elena barely touched her fork. Her, the foodie?
“Elena, you okay?”
“Huh?”
“Why aren't you eating? That knight's confession bugging you?”
“Oh, that...”
She hesitated. Sylvia, sandwiched between us, whipped her head back and forth, eyes wide and sparkling.
“Did I mess it up by blocking? You like that guy?”
“Uh, well...”
“If there's someone you fancy, go for it. Don't hold back on my account.”
“Huh?”
Elena blinked in shock. Sylvia too.
“Don't mind me. If my veto bugs you, I won't interfere next time.”
Elena shook her head after a weird pause.
“It's not you, boss.”
“Then?”
“I wanna focus on work right now. You know—back when I was starving in the alleys, one step from death.”
“Yeah.”
Looked like another corpse piling up back then.
“To avoid that, gotta hustle now. Save up, find something I wanna do. And... I wanna date someone I really like.”
“Gotcha.”
Elena had depths. Tough past, now stabilizing—wanted more security first, then dreams. And “really like”? Sounded like someone was on her mind. Oscar crawled with hotties. Prime spot by the brothel lake too. Hosts galore—handsome, smooth-talkers.
No way... one of those lake boys?
Host club? Hell no. Don't fall for pretty lies! Better a mage. If true... for her happiness, I'd handle the host myself. But maybe not. Could be no one. No need to pry.
“Then why the long face?”
Sylvia's question.
“Well, actually...”
Elena fidgeted her fingers, then whispered.
What had her so down?
“I wanted those outskirt cheese fries...”
Huh?
“That's it?”
“Yeah. Can I?”
“Outskirt fries sold out?”
“Showing beats telling. Hang on—I'll whip some up. Side it with the rest.”
“Thanks, boss!”
Grabbing snacks and cheese, Sylvia yelped.
“I-I shan't partake, sirrah!”
“Why not?”
“Bill the feast extra. And I haven't touched this either!”
“Sylvia, eat with us. What're you saying?”
“I still gotta save heaps. Can't afford this. How much is it...”
Sylvia's shoulders slumped, red twintails drooping. Aigoo, money matters. But.
“Skip meals, pass out again—who covers your shift? Me. And I ain't working 24/7.”
“But skipping saves 5 extra gold.”
Yeah, 15-gold set—third off felt like profit.
“Sylvia, you think I'd make my hard workers pay after all that? My treat—eat.”
“Ugh...”
“Plus, collapse and miss a day—how much ya lose then?”
She crunched numbers, bit her lip, grabbed the fork.
“F-Fine, I'll eat. Since you're treating... out of respect for that...”
I plated quick outskirt fries meantime. Sylvia speared one with trembling hand—her face pure bliss.
“Ah...”
Just like that famous anime scene yelling “delish!”
“Freaking delicious!”
Too crude for nobility, she shoveled meat and fries alternately.
“Thanks for the grub!”
Elena, me—we dug in. Damn, it hit different. Work-earned meals were the best.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“What's up?”
Luna, disguised as Jane, dropped by after ages.
“Found it.”
“What?”
“Who drew that magic circle in the forest.”
Luna's face hardened.
“Which bastard?”
“It's not human.”
Not human?