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1.96% Is it Wrong to Employ Cute Girls in a Store? / Chapter 1: Humble Jackal
Is it Wrong to Employ Cute Girls in a Store? Is it Wrong to Employ Cute Girls in a Store? original

Is it Wrong to Employ Cute Girls in a Store?

นักเขียน: FanHarem

© WebNovel

บท 1: Humble Jackal

What is evil?

Is it an item? An article one could wear perhaps? A dish one may consume? Or a luxurious concept mulled over by the sages of the past, present, and future? Maybe an application of the 'go-getters' of society?

The word is thrown around constantly.

The general populace believes that one sees it, one knows it, and eventually, one looks away from it.

So? Maybe all orphans are evil? Jackal doesn't think like that.

He doesn't hold philosophies dear to his heart.

He may be fatherless but he was not maidenless by any means and... evil... he could not help but assume that evil is within no one.

He believes that the perception of evil is most definitely different from the concept. If everyone is born the same— naked, pure, bright-eyed, covered in filth, and crying... then the only variable through logical deduction is the world. Surroundings, to be precise.

An individual is the product of one's surroundings. Sure, there may exist mental defects, but Jackal isn't stupid enough to brush past such disorders. He believes that everything can be easily blamed on society...

Or, after a deeper reflection, a person must look at his worth and realize all the wasted potential before lashing out. Crying, bitching, and moaning about how this world is the truly evil thing.

Nah, the world ain't evil. It, too, began pure yet covered in filth.

But talking about the evils of society and the darkness of men is inherently complicated. Jackal isn't the kind to believe that humans like them are inherently meant to delve into such discussions.

No, he is a simple man.

He believes men and women must live. Aspire. Create. Love. And yes, maybe throw down hands or two occasionally. Eat. Of course, fuck thy neighbor, too... or was it something else? Truly, finding the right shit to read on the internet is as hard as getting over the memory of one's core embarrassing memory.

So, why would a simple man like him consider so much about evil?

The answer may not even come as a surprise.

As it turns out, having yourself tied to a chair in a dark chamber with only a single bulb dangling over your head... not to mention getting beaten to a bloody pulp does send your mind to a more philosophical state. After all, the pain subsides. It numbs eventually.

But when the cause of your current situation is your 'family', one has to think where it ALL went wrong!

So? Do you have the answer now?

What is evil?

Why would a notorious criminal family call Jackal evil?

Well, he knows ONE reason that others don't but it's a more general question.

His family has done all sorts of vile shit.

Arms contract is one of their more honorable and... valuable deals.

No, they HAVE dug in personally in the past. Personal acts of crime like 'ganging' one's buddy's ex-girlfriend to well... share 'love' and then kill her. Why wouldn't you? She can't possibly recover from the trauma of having eight short stacks with a penchant for few pumps rail through her, right? It wasn't as if she did not stare back in defiance and laugh at their faces. Maybe spit, too, Jackal imagines.

Then there are more heinous crimes...

Again, trafficking is 'normal.' But damn it... they could have made HIM the 'manager' instead of keeping him in his steady 'supply' position.

"You evil runt!"

*Phow*

A spit splatters over Jackal's bloodied, bruised, and cut face. The right side of his face is entirely swollen to the point he can no longer open his right eye.

So? Why is he the evil one in the world of crimes a hundred times worse?

The answer is as simple as Jackal's nature.

Convenience.

Evil is a tool so convenient that it is used everywhere.

Yes, Evil is the philosophical counterpart to a hoe.

It originates and belongs to the streets.

You act out and you're evil— plain and simple. That is what it boils down to.

Crimes, passion, discipline, love, fear, anger, and serenity. Anything can be evil in the eyes of the beholder, much like art.

"You gonna create those weapons or not? Or ya want some more of this, fuck!" Jona cusses in disgust as he grips a headful of Jackal's black hair and props his face up to face the light.

"Well..." Jackal responds softly. The softness and tiredness in his voice make the other spectators in the darkness exchange soft murmurs.

"No, you Jona. Fuck *cough* you're stupider than Roberta when I'm done with her every night you ain't here."

Alright, sleeping with another man's wife. Yes, Jackal knows that is 'evil' but come on, is it? Is he evil that he rails Jona's wife when he's out having his cock sucked by whores when he's got a perfect one waiting for him in his bedroom?

Jackal calls it passion.

Again, he knows how convenient this is— Evil.

If he's fucking someone's wife, it's passion.

If someone fucks his non-existent wife, then it's evil.

See? The irony and hypocrisy are not lost on him but that's the truth of this world—

A punch indents Jackal's face as more blood gushes alongside Jona's rage!

"You bastard! How dare you?!"

"Well..." Jackal begins weakly. He doesn't feel pain. He hasn't for some time now. But even his words slur as something warm has started to gush in his mouth.

Wonder what that is...

"It wasn't daring... I just opened the door... it wasn't locked. I whipped my cock out... Roberta liked what I was packing... and I got it sucked. I returned the favor and fucked her... heard you give a mean lick down there... heh, Roberta tells me I taste sweet somehow. Bon appet..."

Another punch cuts him off.

"You fucking cunt! We raised you! We gave you everything! We even would have given you a name, you Orphan!"

With as much pride he can muster as he feels blood cutting off the airflow to his lungs, Jackal whispers raspily, "I already have a name... Jackal..."

Darkness overcomes Jackal's vision.

His vision shifts.

'What? This trash my spot, go scavenge somewhere else Jackal!'

'Hey, I, the great Jackal got my trait!'

'Death Crystal? What is that? Looks like a jelly~ Aaaum!'

'You Jackal? Father is interested in you. Come on, get in the back seat.'

'More guns! You've got all the money! Guns! Guns!'

'What is this? Reincarnation Technique? Man internet is funky at times. Looks like a shit forum... oh, ok, Reincarnation Technique with tits in comments... let's dig in~!'

'Cowl? The revolutionary died and this technique came to light. Who the fuck cares?! Boring, next!'

Suddenly, all the fleeting memories zoom past his gaze and Jackal finds himself standing in a white space.

Wearing nothing and looking impeccably clean, he gazes at the front to the only change in 'color.'

With Jackal stained in white in this bright space, only one 'thing' retained its own color. It's own... meaning.

It is a pitch-black dog.

A coat of fur so dark that even with all the light the coat of fur did not have a reflective or glossy look. Aside from seeing the silhouette of the dog that sat not far from him primly, Jackal could really only make out his golden pupils.

The contrast is too great, after all.

For what it's worth, Jackal cannot even try and trace the jaws of the dog with his eyes, it happened to be THAT black.

Giving the phrase 'absorbing light' a whole new meaning.

So, a pair of red eyes and golden eyes continued to stare at each other peacefully until Jackal works his jaws and questions.

"Am... Am I dead? I read on the internet that when we die, we meet the god of death..."

Inclining its head, at least, Jackal imagined it did, the dog's lips part slightly, and he comes to observe the prettiest set of pearly white fangs any dog ever had.

"We do see the Reaper at the time of our death."

Okay.

Jackal wasn't actually gunning for a response! After all, a dog is a dog! All he wanted was for the dog to crawl up to him and let him PET!

But no!

The dog just has to be the holder of one of the deepest and smoothest voices ever!

Looking past the nervously vibrating Jackal, the dog nods... or at least, Jackal imagined it did. Again, tracing the dog's body is hard.

"But the Reaper does not descend for us 'fakes.' You did chant the reincarnation technique..."

Jackal purses his lips.

He did it for the titties... but with how suave the dog's voice sounded, admitting something like this would make Jackal feel quite hollow. No, buddy. Keep it classy.

It's not tits. It's mammary glands... right? Breasts? The Valley of Flesh, Sweat, and Pleasure? Oh, god... it's even worse.

"We are waiting for our new life."

The dog completes and this time Jackal speaks up, "Flesh— uh, no, I mean—"

"Jackal."

The deep voice cut him off as the youth stops and he looks up to match the glimmering orbs of the dog, sensing genuine gratitude.

"You don't have to act like strangers... thank you for rescuing a part of me that day."

Standing on all four, the dog's long and straight ears fold in slightly as he also bows his head in Jackal's direction, "My trait is simpler in comparison to yours. There is much I wish to discuss... no, simply chat. But to honor back your kindness, I should tell you about your second trait. My trait. It may be useful in our new life until we meet again."

As wisps of darkness begin to ooze out of the dog's body, Jackal couldn't help but feel an inexplicable sense of loss.

"My trait is Death Eater. I once was the bane of death and life alike. Breaker of the Cycle, Consumer of Souls, and Humanity's Greatest Ally... My trait's trigger is death. Not ours, but the targets. Its benefit is consumption, digestion, and excretion of the enigmatic cycle of life and death."

"Wait, I—"

"Fret not... friend. An echo as I am, I remain yours to lead. We shall meet again."

Just for a moment, Jackal flinches as the darkness begins to devour the white space. Behind one of the most pettable dogs, Jackal observes a phantom.

A behemoth of black.

Midnight musclebound figure with various golden bangles, bands, anklets, and other decorations around his body. The face of a dog with eyes so gold that one may mistake them for offspring of the sun. A... diety.

The moment the pair of phantom golden pupils glanced back at him, Jackal's vision blurred and his life came to an end.

---

As opposed to evil... what is heroic?

Dungeons!

Goddesses!

Elves!

Beastkins!

And so much more!

The answer is convenient once again. Jackal has always been simple.

'Damn! I'm gonna score goddesses and be MY personal hero!"

The world is not ready for the Divine Tapper who shall tap dance away the most tap-worthy cheeks and tap them away!

---

Orario, the Labyrinth City.

Without a doubt, the city that would put many capitals of other kingdoms to shame is filled with life. It's not particularly early. But men and women of different races and colors dot the streets of this magnificent city.

In the center, overlooking the entire, circular city is a lone tower that threatens to pierce the clouds.

Babel.

From the top of this tower, one may easily see the city's layout divided into various, equal sections like pieces of a pie with the tower itself being the center of it all.

In one such region, attracting more armored men and women is a spacious building.

Aside from the colored windows and a heavy alignment to lighter colors for the wall, the interior is well-designed and divided into smaller sections for personal chats, a desk front for said armored passionate adventurers, and a clear partition for the employees of this building to work in their personal spaces.

This is the Guild!

Well, if there is a dungeon, naturally, there will be a Guild.

"Hey... look... is that really Jackal?"

'Hum~ Hum~ HumHum~!'

"When did his cold metallic heart get any warmth? Do you think he got laid last night?"

"Unlikely. He's just like Eina and Rose! Rejecting others left and right!"

Uncaring of others, he continues to hum internally. A wide smile adorns his face.

Of course, he tried to emulate his previous 'host' to not come off as suspicious but... for all intents and purposes, his previous host was a robot. Efficient, calm, and uncaring. Not that he didn't know why...

Reincarnation Technique does not throw one into another body. It uses a piece of one's soul to cultivate a body beforehand in... whatever world.

So, finding it needlessly hard to emulate a broken man who never meant to live, he returns to his work with a pep in his step.

Like others, he wears a black vest and a pair of black trousers that are somewhat formfitting over his moderately built form. Black hair swept back and his unique set of eyes glance around with renewed curiosity. Underneath his vest is a collared white shirt tied up by a grey tie.

Now, his eyes are unique, yes. But not for his surroundings. They all have grown used to it.

But for him, Jackal, his eyes are the only thing different from his previous body.

Instead of a pair of dark pupils surrounded by red irides... his pupils are golden. So, a combination of Golden pupils and red irides attracts quite a bit of attention from strangers.

Fortunately, there are no strangers here.

"Yo! Senpai!" His loud greeting shocks others around him. Other employees like him, to be exact.

The yellow-eyed busty redhead with a pair of twitching and furry red wolf ears stops in her tracks with a blank expression but only giving her form a cursory glance, Jackal continues.

"Oho! Looking cute as a button, Misha!"

"Looking sharp, Roy!"

"Heh, cheer a bit, Eina. The morning should be blessed with your cute smiles!"

Although younger than the last half-elf, Eina Tulle, Jackal is her senior in the profession so he does not need to regard her with over-the-top respect like the former redheaded werewolf.

Jackal's brown boots practically skid across the floor as everyone, including some of the adventurers, stares at him with their jaws hanging low. The once bustling Guild Hall...

Has descended to an unnatural silence and in this silence, they all can hear Jackal humming a soft tune.

He is...

HUMMING!

"Did my man rail through ten different amazoness in a single night?" A voice blurts out and encourages others to start making hushes assumptions.

"He got crazy! Definitely!"

"He... he's kicked in the head!"

*Knock*

*Knock*

Jackal stops across a divided office and knocks on the door twice. A slightly tired voice despite the sunny morning answers, "Come in."

And just like that, Jackal smoothly slides into the office of their supervisor.

But as if not content just by smiling and greeting others cheerily, Jackal's entrance into the room is followed by a loud ruckus!

"What? WHAT?!"

This stops others once again. A few strain their senses. Those with furry, bestial ears have their auditory senses tickled before a strange expression masks their faces.

"Hum~ Humhumhum~!"

Walking out of the door with a pleased expression, Jackal glances at others who are keenly observing him and he smiles broadly.

Clasping his hands in front of his waist and bending slightly with a low incline of his head, Jackal does all but chime, "I wish to depart for my dreams of opening one of the best stores in Orario! Thank you for taking care of me until now. I have learned a lot from everyone!"

By now... the spectators should already feel weary.

But they cannot.

They couldn't hope to.

Earning his reputation as one of the most efficient Dungeon advisors with a penchant for helping the newcomers without any ill feeling or accepting orders from his seniors, the softspoken and 'cold' Jackal had burrowed a spot for himself in the hearts of most employees.

Now?

He's taking his burrow elsewhere.

Abruptly so!

What about the farewell party?

What about—

"Jackal-san... what about giving a proper notice?" Eina, the slender and naturally curvaceous half-elf with soft brown hair adjusts her glasses and chews her lips in worry.

"Nah, don't you worry!" Jackal laughs and walks past her while waving energetically, "I can't wait to start a store. Better to lose a few provisions left with the Guild. Anyway!"

Turning around to meet everyone's gaze and grin, Jackal throws them a bone.

They'll need it.

Not now, of course. But he doesn't plan to settle and in the future, they will thank him for the offer.

"When my store's made its name, you all can swing by and enjoy a sweet 15% off your first ten purchases— bulk or otherwise~!"

*Thud*

And the door closes behind him.

Leaving others in a stupor once again.

---

Orario is divided into eight sections.

Eight large slices of a pizza, to be more understanding.

Of course, Jackal lives in one such slice, and like many Guild Employees, Jackal did get some preferential treatment during settling down and getting a house in Orario. In fact, he lives close to a few... acquaintances?

The Previous Jackal paid no attention to romance.

A good thing HE is here!

Jackal's house is similar to a victorian build brick house with wooden windows locked from the inside. With an additional floor that's basically used as storage, his house is good enough for a nuclear family in this fantastical world.

Entering his house, Jackal doesn't remove his uniform quite yet. Instead, he settles down on his chair and crosses his arm while adopting a ponderous look.

He has many things to consider.

Well, he knows how he will earn the funds to start his shop. But he needs to think about the location of his store, the type of items he will sell, a schedule to balance his needs and desires to run the best damn store, and also venture into the dungeon!

After all, you can't have a dungeon and NOT make runs into it!

And finally...

'My traits. Aside from Humble Store... I'm supposed to have Death... Eater? Oh, Roberta... Death Eater sounds like such a scary but awesome name! I wish you could be here... sigh, I must seek many goddesses, both literal and metaphorical to heal my broken heart!'

His internal wail is unlike the crooked grin on his face!

***

Alternate Title: Evil is Personal!; I Quit!; The Store Owner Returns!; Sweet, sweet, Roberta!; The Stoic Menace... Smiles!; Next Goal: Ten Amazonesses!; Aspiration of Tapping!

***

A/N: 'Traits' is just a concept I use to introduce various cheats in various fanfics, don't mind. Nothing complicated.


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