Chapter 224
And so, the day was slowly coming to an end.
I thought the unusual events of today would end with Cheonchilbaek’s bizarre prison life storytelling.
But they didn’t. It was a much longer day than I had thought.
Irasshaimase!!!
The loud sound of the doorbell rang out, meaning the door was opening and a customer was coming in.
Normally, I would have welcomed the customer with a smiling face. But right now, I wasn’t in the mood for that.
My expression stiffened.
The current time was 4:38.
There were only about 20 minutes left until closing tasks.
That’s right. It was the “last-minute customer”, proudly taking 3rd place in the top 5 of the Underground who piss you off while working at a bar.
For reference, 1st place was the terrorist troublemaker who sets off an EMP in the bar and goes on a stabbing spree against the Underground, and 2nd place was the unpleasant gay sexual harasser Troublemaker who subtly hits on you and makes you want to kill him or her.
And 4th place was the insolent competition-judge-style troublemakers who try to test the bartender with a mindset of “Can someone like you dare to make a cocktail to my liking?”
One Troublemaker I met a few days ago wore a purple suit, drank a glass of cocktail, and said, “What I consider most important is the degree of shaking. But the size and degree of melting of the ice in this cocktail are not even. It’s not off by a lot, but… I will put this on hold for now.'
What on earth does it mean that the degree of melting of the ice is not even?
And what exactly was he putting on hold? He was truly a remarkable concept-obsessed person.
Tony was the one handling the serving at the time.
Later, he went to the rest area and laughed, saying, “Thanks to our customer, I learned my shortcomings. He’s a very thankful person, isn’t he? Hahahaha…', but no matter how you looked at it, with the veins popping on his temple, his smile wasn’t a real smile.
It made me newly afraid that I would have to deal with those kinds of Undergrounds directly once I later debuted as an Official Bartender.
And the final 5th place was about the tattooed thugs who spat out informal speech and the power abusers with a “The customer is king” motto.
Even they, who would easily take 1st place for Troublemaker in any ordinary shop, were only at the 5th place level of awfulness here at Dragon’s Lair.
Anyway, the point is that the Last-minute Customer is annoying enough to enjoy the honor of 3rd place among such formidable candidates.
The official closing tasks time was 5 AM.
Since this was already quite late, we usually prepared for closing tasks around 4:40: clearing the tables, organizing the cocktail mixing tools and liquors, and washing dishes…
This took quite a bit of time. It was even more so if a lot of beggars who particularly liked making a mess had come.
So by the time we finished everything and got off work, it was a little past 5.
But a new customer coming in right at the time when we had to prepare for closing tasks? It drove you crazy.
We did notify the entering customer in advance that closing tasks was at 5, but rushing them by a set time to drink a cocktail quickly that should be enjoyed slowly and leisurely didn’t suit a bartender’s dignity, and we couldn’t kick them out for drinking a long time either.
In the end, we had to wait nervously until the customer finished drinking, and while tactful people would finish and leave on their own around 5, there were many cases where they didn’t.
Sometimes they would just keep sipping and only finish one glass well past 5, and in severe cases, there were extreme troublemakers who had already finished their second or third rounds elsewhere before coming here, so they would drink a little and then completely pass out, becoming an absolute nuisance to deal with.
In those cases, leaving work on time was bullshit; by the time we finished closing tasks and left, it would be 6 AM, the time when the sun was slowly trying to rise through the smog.
Unless you experienced it yourself, you wouldn’t know how unpleasant it felt to get off work right when others were just waking up, receiving Dusk’s uniquely meager and pale morning sunlight.
It was overtime, night work, for a master craftsman, and there was no way you could like the person bringing this upon you.
'It’s not closing tasks time yet, so what’s the problem? Isn’t it the customer’s right to have a drink at the bar during that time? one could argue.
Actually, that was true.
That was why it was even more annoying.
It wasn’t like they were blatantly being a Troublemaker, nor was it something you could somehow block or avoid. Naturally, the most annoying thing to suffer was an unblockable attack you couldn’t counter.
“Who is it?”
The regular customers who usually came often didn’t visit at such a late hour. Someone who might come at this time…
“You’re not closed yet, right? Can I come in?”
A middle-aged man with a cynical expression, steeped in fatigue, asked me as he flinched at the booming 'Irasshaimase!'. The area around his eyes was dark and his skin looked rough.
Juli-Juli-Juliana~ The magic of twinkling stars~ come! Be! A! Prin-cess! ♬♪
Right on time, the theme song for 「Twinkle Twinkle Star Power! ~The Second Coming of Magic Princess Juliana~」, which was drawing sensational popularity among ten-year-old girls, flowed out from the hologram channel in the early morning timeslot.
It was a somewhat familiar sight. I naturally remembered the name of the Customer entering the bar and spoke.
“Of course, Mr. Bing. However, closing tasks is at five, will that be alright with you?”
“That’s actually better. If I stay too long, this damn body will get drunk on the rest and just droop down. Excuse me, then. I’ll just have one quick drink and leave so as not to be a nuisance.”
It was the very same Mr. Bing who had come last time and talked about his worries regarding resignation and changing jobs, starting with the story of the “Cockroach Eaten After 100 Days” and moving on to talk about death.
I felt it back then too, but saying he would just have one quick drink and leave proved he was indeed a well-mannered person, very likable.
“A nuisance, you say. That’s not true, so it’s fine for you to stay as long as you want.”
Even so, when I said that out of politeness, Mr. Bing snorted.
“You’re talking nonsense. I saw your dark expression when I first came in! Are you going to be that fake? At this rate, I might really just sit down and refuse to leave, you know? Should I do that?”
“Ha, hahaha… I was wrong. Please let me off just this once.”
Right, this Ajje was the type who liked throwing honest, straightforward pitches. As I looked troubled and did a waving hand, Mr. Bing sat down in his seat and spoke.
“Forget it, it’s a joke, of course. It’s not like I don’t know the feelings of a master craftsman working overtime… whew.”
“You must have worked overtime today too? Don’t tell me you worked until this hour?”
At my question, Mr. Bing nodded with a sigh.
“It would have been nice if it were just overtime. Unfortunately, it’s more than that. I haven’t slept a wink for three days. because there’s a presentation for an important project tomorrow.”
He hadn’t slept a wink for three days. Was that even possible?
I remembered the complaints Mr. Bing had made when he stopped by the bar last time.
'When I go in front of others, I cover it up with makeup, but my dark circles have come down to my chin; my skin is completely cracked and breaking out in acne; I have headaches and nosebleeds; and a while ago, my teeth even fell out. My face looks ten years older than my actual age. If it weren’t for the pills I take a bottle a day and the hormone injections, I would have collapsed from overwork and had a heart attack a long time ago.'
Back then, I just thought, “As expected of Dusk City. He seems to be a high-ranking official in a corporation, but he still works that hard. A corporation sucking the lifeblood out of people doesn’t change even if his rank goes up…' and moved on, but looking at it now, it seemed like a story without a single exaggeration.
Just what kind of industry, what kind of company was it that he was overworking like that?
At this level, it was a vicious black corporation to the point where even Isiho, which I belonged to, would have to be nervous about losing its lead.
“No, but if you have an important presentation, shouldn’t you go to sleep early instead? To manage your condition?”
“Hah, you don’t know anything. That only works up to a certain level. If you keep taking those damn stimulants developed thanks to fucking science and technique, you can no longer follow a normal sleep pattern.”
It’s hard to fall asleep naturally in the first place, and even if you somehow manage to get some sleep, sleeping for a little bit doesn’t reduce fatigue at all; it just ends up making your physical condition worse. In that case, maintaining the status quo is better. The sleep you missed, you catch up on all at once after the project is over, something like that.”
I wasn’t sure, but didn’t they say that if you don’t get enough sleep and just take catnaps, it actually makes you more tired and is bad for your health?
I figured it was roughly a similar principle.
“I see. When does that project end?”
At my thoughtlessly thrown words, Mr. Bing flinched.
“…Not much time left. It’s really the final stage now.”
“Wow, that’s a relief. Congratulations in advance. You’ll be able to catch up on your missed sleep soon, right?”
He smiled weakly and said.
“That’s interesting. I’ve never thought about it that way… Is it because I’ve only been agonizing like crazy over how to make the Project succeed?”
“Take this chance to think positively. Isn’t it nice enough just knowing you can get a good night’s sleep once it’s over? whether it succeeds or fails.”
At my cheerfully thrown words, Mr. Bing raised the corners of his mouth crookedly and shot back.
“You’re right. Still, it would feel better to sleep after succeeding, wouldn’t it? Don’t you think?”
“Of course. What do you see the chances of success as?”
Mr. Bing pondered for a moment before blurting out.
“48.71%.”