Chapter – 22
“Yes. Hello—are you the manager? This is Detective Park In-gyu from the Violent Crimes Unit 2 of Jungbu Police Station.”
While In-gyu continued asking a few questions, Cheong-a pretended to look awkwardly busy as she scanned the inside of the counter.
There was nothing particularly unusual.
As her eyes swept over the counter, her thoughts drifted back to the voice she’d just heard on the phone—why did it sound so familiar?
It had only been a single, very short sentence, yet it stubbornly refused to leave her mind.
“Ah, yes. Thank you for your cooperation. No, that’s more than enough. Yes, yes. Please go ahead.”
At some point, In-gyu finished the call and casually held the receiver out toward Cheong-a.
She accepted it awkwardly and hung up.
“Th-thank you very m-much for your c-cooperation…”
“…Yeah.”
At In-gyu’s tightly clenched, strained voice, Cheong-a quietly averted her gaze as she replied.
“I’ll, uh, be heading to the sundae place near Yongseon Elementary School intersection now. If you find anything else, could you let me know?”
It was their signal—after wrapping things up here, they’d meet at the sundae-gukbap restaurant by the intersection.
“Ah, yes. Please be careful on your way!”
Cheong-a bowed deeply as In-gyu exited the PC café.
The moment he left, the sound of sharp footsteps approached her. Just as Cheong-a had expected, the owner must have been watching them through the CCTV from somewhere in the shop.
“Your name is Bokseon?”
The woman smiled with her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering softly.
“Ah—y-yes!”
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
“I-it’s okay.”
The woman gently clasped Cheong-a’s hand, speaking in an apologetic tone.
“I have a sort of… aversion to scary-looking men.”
Her smooth, soft hand wrapped around Cheong-a’s skin. When she smiled bashfully with an embarrassed expression, Cheong-a’s heart melted without resistance.
Right.
This was all because In-gyu looked scary.
Whatever the case, it was Park In-gyu’s fault.
“Oh, right! Maybe because he’s a violent crimes detective? I found him kind of scary too!”
***
When Cheong-a entered the sundae-gukbap restaurant, she scanned the place for Park In-gyu.
Then she headed toward a man sitting in a back corner, his broad, menacing-looking back turned toward her.
“Auntie! One extra-large, please!”
At her loud voice, the bulky figure turned around.
He must have been extremely curious about what Cheong-a and the PC café owner had talked about—his eyes stayed fixed on her without wavering.
“So what happened?”
In-gyu pulled out a chair for her. Cheong-a plopped down and emptied a glass of water in one go.
“What do you think? The intel we got from Red Straw pointed there, didn’t it?”
She shrugged, and not even a minute after ordering, the sundae soup was set on the table.
“PC Pop PC Café…!”
Cheong-a glanced around as if someone might be listening. Only after confirming there were no familiar faces did she relax.
“You said you wanted to work there as a part-timer?”
Cheong-a spoke slowly, in a thin, deliberate voice, extending her hand to firmly grab In-gyu’s. His eyes shook violently.
“Ms. Bokseon just seems like someone who reads situations really fast. I like that kind of thing. Oh, sorry for the late introduction. I’m Rachel, the owner here.”
It was the exact same voice as the PC café owner’s.
In-gyu immediately realized Cheong-a was mimicking her.
“But we’re only hiring night-shift staff right now. Would that be okay?”
After finishing the line perfectly, Cheong-a released his hand and started eating her sundae soup.
Only then did In-gyu snap out of it and speak in alarm.
“A part-time job at a place like that? Are you out of your mind?”
“I’ve worked as a sanitation worker before—what’s a PC café shift? I’m just changing locations and doing undercover work.”
In-gyu pressed both hands to his temples.
“Will that even work…?”
“What wouldn’t?”
“You told the owner your name was Bokseon.”
“Yeah. So?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Cheong-a realized her mistake and cautiously checked his expression.
Park Bokseon was the name of his older sister. Borrowing it on impulse might not sit well with him.
But In-gyu shook his head, as if that wasn’t what bothered him, and added his own sundae to Cheong-a’s empty bowl.
“It’s not about me. The authorization from above only covers the Clean Power Wash undercover op.”
“Oh. That shouldn’t matter. The owner didn’t ask for ID or anything. And the hourly wage is twenty thousand won.”
Cheong-a giggled, and In-gyu frowned deeply.
“That makes it even more suspicious. Though, honestly, the way that owner dumped the investigation on you was pretty masterful.”
That’s because your face is scary.
Cheong-a almost said it without thinking, then swallowed the words back down.
“Uh… y-yeah. That’s true.”
She’d need a lot of In-gyu’s cooperation for night undercover work. There was no reason to hurt his feelings.
***
A PC café never closes.
Twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year. Because it runs nonstop, they operated on a three-shift system.
Cheong-a was assigned from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. They warned her it might get busy, but that didn’t matter.
She left work exactly on time, ate a solid dinner, and headed to the PC café.
And then she saw it—nearly 200 seats, packed to the brim with customers.
Are there really this many gamers in Korea…?
Any suspicion about the high hourly wage quickly vanished. With crowds like this, paying minimum wage would probably drive all the part-timers away.
There were three staff members, but there wasn’t even time for proper training. Cheong-a read the room, cleaned up vacated seats, and energetically delivered food from the kitchen.
She didn’t get a moment to breathe until after 10 p.m.
An announcement blared through the PC café speakers, instructing minors to leave the premises.
Most of the people inside stood up and filed out almost instantly. The manager checked the IDs of the remaining customers, while the other staff—and Cheong-a—worked hard cleaning and wiping down the suddenly empty seats.
“Wow, Bokseon—you’ve worked at a PC café before, right?”
10:23 p.m.
Only then did Cheong-a get to have something resembling a real conversation with her coworkers.
“No… this is my first time. Hehe. Please teach me lots.”
“Really? You adapted so fast—I thought you were experienced. I’m Hwang Se-yeon, the afternoon-shift manager. This is Minji, and over here is Hyerin.”
The owner’s claim about having an aversion to scary-looking men didn’t seem entirely false. All the employees were gentle-looking, pretty women.
Especially Se-yeon, the manager—anyone could tell she was beautiful at a glance.
“Ah. Hello, I’m Park Bokseon.”
The four of them exchanged polite bows.
“You seem sharp, Bokseon. You’ll just need to learn the kiosk for payments, and I handle settlement, so don’t worry about that. As for food… we were too busy before 10, so the night manager will teach you later.”
“Ah, yes!”
Cheong-a diligently jotted down the rapid-fire explanations in her notebook.
“The two part-timers here are heading out now, and the night manager comes in around eleven. I need to do the register closing, so you can read through this and sign off on it.”
“Thank you.”
The laminated sheet she received was filled edge-to-edge with work rules.
“If you don’t follow these, you’ll be fired immediately, so read carefully. Ask if you don’t understand something.”
“Yes.”
Cheong-a exchanged farewells with the staff rushing to clock out, then took the rules sheet and sat on an empty chair near the counter.
She glanced around the shop—no one looked like they’d be leaving anytime soon.
She turned her attention to the paper.
“….”
Please be punctual. Especially make sure to clock out exactly on time!
That was unusual.
Most places emphasized not being late, not leaving on time. No wonder the part-timers had rushed out so quickly.
The bottom sign must remain lit 24 hours a day. If you notice it turned off, report it to the manager immediately.
If customers ask about games not in service, transfer them directly to the manager.
– You can check the list of currently serviced games in the “Game List” file on the work PC desktop.
Do NOT answer the phone before it rings ten times ><
There are a lot of prank callsㅠㅠ
Cheong-a’s grip on the paper tightened, her nose twitching slightly.
Something was definitely wrong.
