Chapter 5

This Otherworldly Pervert - Chapter 4 (5/331)

Chapter 4. The Adapting Pervert (4)

I couldn't fathom the intentions of this succubus who had called me to the counter and then started frying pancakes as if showing off. Was she trying to boast about what she had for dinner?

The succubus didn't seem to have any intention of answering. More accurately, she was in no state to answer, having just fried another batch of pancakes.

“Gurrrggg…”

“Sir, could you please step away from the counter?”

I asked, looking at the vomit dripping from under the counter. My voice was surprisingly calm, even to me, but that was only because I was too dazed. I wasn't angry; I just kept letting out hollow laughter.

The succubus, who had finally calmed down, panted heavily, flapping her wings, and turned to me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Her face, beaming with a silly smile, and the flapping of her wings created a scene that, in a way, could be seen as seductive. If she hadn't been vomiting, I might have really felt that way.

“Hehe… Mr. Owner….”

Please stop calling me and move aside. You need to clean up what you vomited.

A dwarf who had already picked up some wax stood next to me, looking back and forth between the succubus and the counter, and asked me.

“Is the bill ready?”

“I don’t think it can be done at the counter right now. Cash or card?”

“Card.”

I took the card, went to the counter, and completed the transaction. After sending the dwarf on his way, I now had to deal with this damned pancake.

I decided to clear the succubus first before the pancake.

“Sir, please… go sit over there.”

I pointed to a table by the window, but the succubus responded with a slurred voice.

“Wha…?”

I don’t want to either. If you vomit again, I’ll have to clean it up.

But this succubus clearly wasn’t in her right mind. She looked like she could hardly walk, and if I kicked her out of the convenience store and she collapsed and fell asleep in front of the entrance, no customers would come in.

So, with a sigh, I took her hand, grabbed the back of her shirt, and led her to the table, where I sat her down. As soon as she was seated, she laid her head on the table and stared at me with dilated pupils.

I left her there and went back to the counter.

The vomit, which had been spreading, was now approaching the terminal. I grabbed a mop from the sink, pushed it aside, and thought for a moment.

Instead of cleaning it up bit by bit with the mop, it might be better to sweep it all onto the floor and clean it up with a broom.

It didn’t seem like it would be too difficult to clean up, but the problem was that I had to serve customers while doing this. A customer had just come in, and I hadn’t even cleaned up half of it yet.

“Mr. Owner, where are the ice creams… Ugh, what is this?”

“Over there, in front. I’m sorry, but could you please choose one?”

This customer was a lizard person with scales covering his head, similar to a salamander, wearing factory work clothes. He seemed to have come out to buy ice cream during a break from his night shift. Well, reptiles do have a hard time regulating their body temperature, so ice cream would be effective.

He understood what I meant. With his tongue hanging out, he alternated his gaze between the succubus at the table and me, then started choosing ice creams. I was incredibly grateful.

While he was choosing, I swept the vomit under the counter and mopped the top of the counter clean. Now, where was the broom?

“Manager, where is the broom in the store?”

“There’s vomit on the counter.”

The manager sighed briefly and replied.

“If there’s no broom, how do you clean?”

“There isn’t one?”

I ran into the office, but it was filled with all sorts of junk I had never seen before. The rolling books didn’t seem to be ledgers, and I had no idea what the thing in the corner was. A sundial?

I didn’t need any of that. Where was the broom?

After rummaging through all sorts of things, including crystal balls and unidentified bottles, I finally found a dusty broom in the corner. I grabbed it and ran out, only to find that the salamander had finished choosing his ice creams.

The number of ice creams on the counter was… how many did he bring?

“A bit many, huh? I have to buy some for my coworkers too.”

It wasn’t just a bit many; it was a lot. When I counted them, it was over 40.

I tried to calculate the total, but a message appeared asking if I really wanted to pay without a 2+1 ice cream.

“Sir, you didn’t bring a 2+1 ice cream.”

“Really? Which one?”

I don’t know. Which one of these forty-something ice creams is the 2+1 ice cream?

The POS system didn’t specify which one it was, and I couldn’t ask him to bring another one of the same ice cream. Ice creams are bundled, so different ice creams of the same price can also be included in the 2+1 deal.

When you select the first one, a list of bundled items appears in small print, but the text is so tiny and there are so many types that it’s hard to read even with a magnifying glass.

In this situation, the best thing to do is to not mention it at all.

If a customer is buying dozens of ice creams, they won’t care if one or two more are added. Customers who do care usually bring the exact number they need.

But I had already mentioned it. I couldn’t take back what I said, so I decided to do this.

“Can I start over and select them again?”

If I select each type one by one, the +1 items will show up at a discounted price, making it possible to distinguish them. But when would I have the time for that?

The POS system is a mess, with a touch screen that’s not very sensitive and a keyboard that’s hard to use. The product items are especially small.

Moreover, to register and cancel each item individually, I would have to press the buttons dozens of times. I decided to start over from the beginning.

There was another reason.

“Ah, it’ll take too long. I’ll just go.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes. My coworkers are suffering from the heat, and if I don’t go soon, work won’t get done.”

“Wow, you must be working hard.”

“It’s inevitable. I’m a salamander. Oh, and could you print a receipt?”

He handed me a corporate card. The factory’s benefits were impressive, allowing employees to buy ice creams with a corporate card.

After completing the transaction, I put the ice creams in five bags. Each bag costs 20 cents, so it was 100 cents in total, but it felt wrong to charge for the bags to a customer who didn’t bring a 2+1 ice cream.

After he left, I cleaned up the vomit. If it had been spilled ice cream, I could have swept it outside, but this couldn’t be done, so I used a trash can to collect it. Then I washed the mop, collected more, and washed it again….

Fortunately, no more customers came until I finished cleaning. After all, who would want to buy anything from a counter with vomit dripping from it?

The succubus didn’t vomit again, but the table was wet from the saliva that had dripped from the corner of her mouth. But that was minor.

“Manager, I’ve cleaned up the vomit, but can I pour the contents of the trash can down the drain where I wash the mop?”

I asked because I had a similar experience where the drain got clogged when I did this during a part-time job.

“Also… the succubus customer who vomited hasn’t left yet.”

“Yes, she doesn’t seem to want to leave.”

“Why? Has this world also been hit by COVID?”

This was unexpected.

In my world, convenience stores have a register for customers to write their addresses and contact information, or a QR code, due to COVID. But what’s the issue here?

Of course, the manager had no idea about COVID.

“It’s a virus. It’s hard to explain, but it has infected about 140 million people and killed about 3 million.”

“No, it’s because she ate something wrong….”

The manager couldn’t believe that a single bad eating habit could wreak such havoc, but that’s often the case. Sometimes reality is stranger than fantasy.

But it seemed the manager had a similar reason for wanting to register the information.

“Does it spread?”

The Magic Office? What’s that? Is it like a city hall in this world?

Anyway, I had to write it down. But the succubus, even from a distance, looked like she was beyond unconscious and in a coma. Her arm was dangling lifelessly. Was he asking me to get her phone number?

The register was near the counter. I picked it up and approached the succubus.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but if you want to stay in the store, you need to fill this out.”

“……”

“Sir?”

“Hehe….”

I couldn’t do it, so I asked the manager what to do in this situation.

“Manager, the customer is laughing.”

When I said that, the manager thought for a moment and said.