Chapter 16

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

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Internationalist II

First, I made light work of plundering the logistics centers of convenience stores across the nation.

Not to say it was a simple task that could be summed up in that single line. With the National Assembly having been blown away, the political scene was practically paralyzed, so the quick-witted survivors had already sought refuge in these centers.

“Who's there?!”

“Stop! Do not approach!”

Who am I, they ask? At that point, a regressor who had lived through 90 cycles.

Screams erupted from the entrance barricade of the logistics center. Before long, I had established friendly relations with the center's managers.

“Understand this,” I said pleasantly. “If the trucks don't arrive by this Friday, you're time here will be a story for the ages.”

“Y-yes, sir! Understood!”

Soon after, a parade of trucks were pouring out of logistics centers in the northern and eastern parts of Gyeonggi Province. Their destination was, of course, our store—The Sixth International Convenience Store.

There was interference from the military and the police along the way, but I easily brushed them aside. I had experience collaborating with the National Intelligence Service and the government in previous cycles. The very first thing Old Man Scho and I did together was to collect the personal weaknesses of government officials.

Ultimately, our store became a black hole that sucked in convenience store-related goods and logistics in no time.

“Huff... Comrade Manager! The boxes are piled up like a mountain! Thinking about how this is all the product of the blood and sweat of the workers makes this fairy so sad!”

“Now, it's ours.”

“The laughter! This fairy just cannot help it...!”

The typical signs of a revolutionary falling into corruption were beginning to show.

A massive warehouse was constructed underground at the convenience store. It would have been impossible to promise a completion date if we relied on manual labor, but the power of fairies made many things possible.

After completing our gigantic, underground facilities, the fairies neatly arranged the goods.

“Hmm?”

Yes, not one fairy, but several fairies.

Before I knew it, three fairies were buzzing around, moving products.

“Fairy Number 264,” I called.

The fairy snapped to attention. “Yes, Comrade Manager!”

“Answer me. Why have the fairies suddenly multiplied?”

“Sir! Number 264 requested support from the [Fairy Revolution Club]! Club comrades inspired by your great revolutionary legacy are joining our cause one after another!”

What.

“Are you telling me that the number of fairies here will grow even more?”

“Possibly? The cause of the revolution swells like a river flowing downstream, except for the filthy reactionaries!”

“Hmm...”

This was an unforeseen situation. Originally, it was supposed to be just one capable yet unpaid slave that I was carting around with Fairy Number 264.

But I had no problem with it. Actually, it was even better.

As is customary in a 'vacation cycle', the more unplanned events, the merrier.

“Hoh, has this fairy's unilateral decision lead to overly adventurous consequences?”

“No, you did well.”

I looked around. Anything else?

Just then, a pile of green Saemaul hats heaped in a logistics box caught my eye. I tore open the plastic and put a Saemaul hat on the Tutorial Fairy.

The fairy tilted her head in confusion under the hat much larger than her head. “What is this?”

“All fairies are equal, but some fairies are more equal than others! Comrade Number 264, your fervent passion has moved me. From now on, you will command all fairies participating in The Sixth International.”

“...! Comrade Manager...!”

Staff secured.

The fairies knew how to use magic and even had the ability to separate certain areas from reality. This ability meant that the underground warehouse was isolated from the outside world.

“Deploy the territory in the underground warehouse.”

“Yes, sir!”

Using this ability and ice magic, they indefinitely extended the shelf life of the stored products.

After procuring some generators, the wiring and installation work was completed, and the convenience store was up and running 24 hours a day.

Now, there was nothing left to do at all but receive customers.

On the sixth day since the grand opening, the first customer visited.

“Welcome!”

“......”

A tinkle later, the glass door was open, and in walked a woman with heavy clothes and a ponytail.

-xx: It's a fairy den there...

-xx: But why are the fairies there wearing Che Guevara t-shirts?

-xx: I don't know.

-xx: I asked last time, and they said it's their uniform.

-xx: Seriously, why are fairies wearing Che Guevara t-shirts as uniforms?

-xx: I really don't know.

Ah, right. This site wasn't SG Net. Originally, the name SG Net was my idea anyway.

When Seo Gyu acted alone, it was called 'Hunter Community', abbreviated as HunCo. It wasn't a membership-based site, meaning anyone could freely access it and write anonymously.

Given my reputation, occasionally Awakeners came to the convenience store not to buy anything but to see me.

“I am known as the Sword of the Mount Hwa Sect. I have often heard rumors of the International store owner's formidable martial prowess. May I request a lesson?”

“......”

Reading too many martial arts novels had gone to his head, to the point where he called monsters 'demons' and Awakeners 'martial artists', and referred to employees as 'store warriors', like a certain crazy 60-year-old with a bizarre concept.

I'll have another opportunity to talk about this old man later. He was a fellow I wandered around with during another vacation cycle, not the 90th.

Anyway, the Sixth International was a success.

A gate had burst open, turning the once-desolate Han River area into a gathering place for minor guilds and even lone Awakeners who stubbornly played the lone wolf game without joining a guild.

This so-called 'convenience store zone' had formed.

Before the world ended, it might have been one thing, but currently in Korea, this was the only convenience store zone. It might have been the only one on Earth.

And so it was one day, when 12 years had passed.

“You are quite something, Mr. Manager.”

The one who spoke was a guild leader who had brought her entire guild for a party in the convenience store's front yard. She was from Samcheon, one of the two major guilds in Korea.

The guild leader grinned, wearing a cone-shaped hat that sat atop her head—the signature style of the Samcheon guild.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Whenever I come here, it feels like the world is the same as it's always been. You know, today, I was startled when I saw the price of potato chips was over 3,500 won. I wondered if the price was correct.”

She looked very happy.

“The fact that I can still worry about such things isn't so bad,” she concluded. “You are a good person. Though I don't know exactly how you pulled it off.”

“Thank you, dear customer.”

“And, thanks to your store, sir, this area is relatively safe, you know. Do you know what we call your store in our group?”

“The convenience store?”

“No, the police station. No matter what dispute arises, if you just come to this store, it will be resolved with an even hand. Even if you're seeing red with rage, seeing fairies wearing T-shirts and Saemaul hats can't help but calm you down just purely for the sheer absurdity of it.”

“Hmm.”

Seo Gyu probably wouldn't agree considering how he always started with the words "this fucking asshole" even at the Busan Station terminal.

“Anyway... our guild is going to deploy to seal a gate that opened yesterday. The execution day is the day after tomorrow at 1100 hours. If you're interested, let me know. I'll even give you the position of Vice-Guild Leader. Our guild is a bit closed off to outsiders, but you're always welcome.”

“Thank you for the kind words, but I have no intention of getting directly involved in the fighting.”

“Is that so? I figured.”

“Don't push yourself too hard in the fighting, dear customer.”

“What are you talking about?”

The Samcheon guild leader chuckled as she placed a bag of money on the counter, presumably for the party expenses. She then pulled out an additional thousand-won bill and handed it to Fairy Number 264.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the blue thousand-won bill but a rare red one. Nowadays, it's something you can't find anywhere.

“Dear customer, this is...?”

“A tip.” The Samcheon guild leader chuckled. “I wrote my signature on the back.”

I flipped the bill over.

This coffee shop has great coffee.

—Samcheon, Dang Seo-rin

The handwriting, appearing to have been written with a brush pen, was very elegant. It was clear she had formally studied calligraphy.

She must have been in a very good mood to write something with a brush pen.

“What a precious item.”

“Why, they hang up celebrities' autographs at popular places, right? Mr. Manager, if you feel like it, you might as well act like I'm a celebrity... It's embarrassing, but... Anyway, there aren't many Awakeners left in Korea. That should make me qualified, right?”

The Samcheon guild leader walked away.

Then, tossing a lighthearted wave back to me, she said, “Bye-bye! I'll come visit again after closing the gate. Please make me an affogato when I do, Mr. Manager.”

A few days later, the coffee beans and vanilla ice cream I had prepared in advance went unused. The Samcheon guild failed in their gate raid, and all 301 guild members died.

Footnotes:

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