She Returned Like a Hollow Shell
“All the stock sorted, boss.”
“Good work.”
“Anything else you need?”
“Nah, looks like we're done for now.”
“Yay!”
Elena let out a cheerful shout and plopped down right next to me, pressing close.
“What're you doing?”
“Huh?”
“Why sit so close? There's plenty of space over there.”
“This spot's comfy.”
Comfy? Next to me?
“Not too hot? Even with the AC on, it's pretty warm in here.”
“I'm fine. I've always been good with heat.”
“Yeah? Alright then.”
If she's heat-tolerant, no point pushing it.
“Hey, boss.”
“Yeah?”
Elena, glued to my side, fidgeted with her fingers as she asked,
“You don't have a girlfriend... right?”
“Girlfriend?”
“Yeah. It kinda seems like you don't...”
“Nope.”
I'd love one, but this damn Virgin Curse makes it impossible. Why rub salt in the wound?
I had dreams once too. They just got shattered.
“Oh, I wasn't teasing or anything! Just curious. Pure curiosity, you know?”
Now she's winking and humming playfully. Not unpleasant, but it doesn't heal the scar.
“Thanks. Appreciate the comfort.”
“Who else but me? Cute, full of aegyo, pretty, and hardworking—no shortage of part-timers like that around.”
Her sudden self-promo got a nod out of me.
“Can't say there are.”
Which makes it all the more frustrating. Whoever snatches her up...
Boss, just thinking about it makes my chest tight. Whoever takes you has to get my permission first. Starting with a one-on-one spar to see if he can protect you, then personality tests and pressure interviews. I'll put him through everything—tell him to brace himself.
“You gotta hold onto me tight. Girls like me don't come around often.”
Elena shrugged with a grin, leaning her face even closer.
We were chatting like that when—
Ding-a-ling.
The door opened.
“Welcome... Sylvia?”
It was Sylvia in a red dress. Something was off. Her shoulders slumped, face lifeless, eyes vacant. She didn't even respond to her name, just shuffled inside aimlessly.
What happened?
She should've still been at Evergarden, savoring her monthly indulgence. That meat stew she used to love—a last remnant of her noble days. The one time she shed her part-timer mode and became the lady of the past.
Look at that worn but blood-red dress, still glittering with embedded jewels like a symbol of her faded glory. The only party dress in her huge suitcase the day her family cast her out.
“Sylvia?”
“My apologies, sir. I forgot to greet you.”
But her response was pure part-timer Sylvia—hollow, drained eyes like the walking dead.
She'd returned way too soon. Her greeting lacked any spark. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“You okay?”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“You look unwell.”
“Oh, I'm fine.”
Her forced smile was heartbreakingly sad.
“May I head up? I'm a bit tired.”
“Sure.”
She stared blankly at me, then turned with feeble steps.
Thud.
“Ow.”
She bumped her forehead lightly into a shelf. Goods tumbled down, but she didn't notice, trudging on.
“Sylvia's acting weird, boss.”
Tell me something I don't know. What was it?
Answer came quick: Evergarden. Something went down there.
“I'll go ask. Watch the store.”
“Okay.”
Leaving a worried Elena, I caught Sylvia at the stairs to the dorms.
“Sylvia!”
“Yes?”
“What happened at Evergarden?”
“Nothing. Really, nothing.”
Her eyes were empty. Slight redness around them—tears.
...No way.
“Couldn't eat?”
She knew what that meant. Evergarden's meat stew. Her sole hobby. Her last shred of pride. The final thread proving she was once nobility.
“Yes.”
A sad smile. But I saw it—the trembling lip, the bitten lower lip.
“They said ingredients ran out.”
Lies. No way. A restaurant for elite nobles, central aristocracy at that? Out of stock? Absurd. More believable if my store ran out of beer.
“Guess I'll rest then. Extra tired today. Couldn't eat what I wanted.”
Her eyes flashed as she turned.
“Ran out, you said?”
“Yes. Couldn't have it. Funny, right? Out of ingredients...”
Back turned, she continued.
“M-Maybe 'cause it's expensive meat. Hard to get...”
She trailed off.
Even if I stormed in and bought her the stew, it wouldn't mend her broken pride, that last noble symbol.
This wasn't about that. Her final pride was shattered. Her last dignity, crushed.
“Hilarious. Meat we have at a convenience store, but not there.”
Her back looked so small. I should've taken better care. Forced a raise on her even if she refused. Couldn't just let her hard work go unrewarded because she said no.
“Store's got ingredients. I'll make it.”
“Pardon?”
“You know I started stocking beef recently. Right there in the fridge.”
Not as good as Evergarden's, probably.
“I can make it. Might not top theirs, but it'll be decent.”
She turned, blinking at me.
Not premium, but wine's there. Beef, veggies—doable.
“You'll make it... for me?”
“Takes time. Not tonight, but tomorrow evening, you'll eat.”
“You don't have to. I...”
“No. I do. If my hardworking employee can't have what she wants because of my store, I can't allow that as manager.”
My mistake. Didn't raise her pay 'cause she said she was fine. Skipped better perks 'cause she was tough. Ignored it.
Wrong. If she's with me, I owe her better. Can't let her cry. Can't crush her pride.
“T-Tomorrow's fine. By then, maybe they'll restock...”
“And if tomorrow's out too?”
“Pardon?”
“Day after? Next? Then what?”
She gets my point.
“Don't go. I'll make it. No need for the trip, the humiliation.”
“...”
Sylvia wiped tears, staring.
“Tomorrow, you said?”
“Yeah. Need time to prep ingredients.”
“...Understood.”
“Wear the dress. I'll treat you right.”
“Yes. Got it.”
Awkward on the stairs, she asked,
“May I go up now? Really tired.”
“Go ahead.”
Her face was brighter already. Gotta make it shine more.
“Rest well. It'll be delicious.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Sending her up, I called Robinson right away.
—Yeah, boss?
“Get me veggies for stew and a pot from that restaurant.”
—Got it, boss.
Then I activated the system, ordering 3kg of premium beef chuck.
A massive hunk appeared in the freezer. With this and wine, I'd cook for Sylvia myself.
“Boss, why'd you need this stuff?”
“Gonna cook.”
“You? Cooking?”
“Yeah. Weird?”
“Well, you've whipped up odd dishes before, so... not really.”
“Since you're here, chop the veggies.”
“Oh, sure!”
Elena's got the store. Trimmed fat from the beef, cubed it into the pot. Added this world's carrots, onions, scallions. Peeled and tossed in fruit rinds like oranges for aroma.
Wanted more spices, but this'd do. Dumped in a full bottle of red wine, submerging everything.
Now simmer 18 hours. Boeuf Bourguignon—French luxury beef stew from my world. Only seen it on YouTube, but gotta try.
“Robinson.”
“Yeah, boss.”
“Watch the store with Elena for a bit.”
“B-Boss, you okay? Your, uh, face.”
He paled meeting my eyes.
“Fine. Just pissed.”
At myself. And that Evergarden for screwing her over.
Furious. Livid.
I'd been careless. Couldn't stomach her—our store's—hard worker getting treated like that.
“B-Be careful out there.”
“What's to be careful about?”
“N-No, don't beat those guys up.”
“Might have to think on that.”
No promises.
“Welcome to Evergarden, where happiness resides.”
A woman in elegant maid attire bowed gracefully. Sorry, but you're in for some trouble.
“This won't do.”
“Pardon?”
“Get your manager.”
“Excuse me?”
“Manager. Now. I come here personally, and a mere maid greets me? You think that's acceptable?”
Daring to humiliate my employee? I don't let that slide. Time they saw real customer hell from the convenience store trenches.