Chapter 3
Okay, This Is Crossing the Line
The store suddenly fell silent.
The only sounds were the shrill voice of an unreasonable customer and Pinea’s timid reply.
“You sell me this garbage and then tell me I can’t get a refund? Are you insane?”
“B-but…!”
If there had even been a single grape left, she could’ve tasted it to check. But there was nothing. And since Pinea wasn’t the branch manager, she couldn’t authorize a refund on her own.
“Stop wasting my time! Hurry up and refund me already!”
This was the kind of situation where a supervisor needed to step in—fast.
Where’s the senior?
I scanned the room and spotted her. She was hiding among the trainees, pretending to spectate.
Wow. So much for leadership.
I’d thought I was the lowest on the corporate food chain, but apparently, there was someone just as bad. Definitely the type of superior you should avoid at all costs. I mentally added her to my workplace villain list.
Look at that—Pinea found her senior and silently begged for help, yet the woman blatantly ignored her.
As the complaint dragged on, customers who had been browsing started frowning. Some left the store, while others stopped and stared.
“This isn’t good.”
The scene reminded me of my college days, when I’d worked part-time at a movie theater.
Back then, I’d watched coworkers cry behind the counter after being berated by rude customers. Managers would kneel down to calm things over. And eventually, most of those coworkers quit.
Different setting, same situation.
The problem was—if this kind of scene kept happening, not only current customers but future ones would stop coming too.
No one wants to shop somewhere that ruins their mood.
Since I hadn’t yet adjusted to this world, finding another job right away wasn’t an option. And I hadn’t even earned enough to cover my meals yet. If this incident caused sales to drop and I got fired on top of that…
Yeah, I’d definitely be first on the chopping block.
The best workplace strategy is to stay invisible and quiet.
Still, survival came first.
Handle it quickly, cleanly, and get her out of here.
After politely excusing myself from the customer I’d been helping, I approached the scene. The rude customer was wrapped in a black robe that hid their face, making it hard to read their expression. But when I asked for a moment, they gave a silent nod.
I took a deep breath, fixed a smile on my face, and stepped next to Pinea.
“Hello, ma’am. How can I assist you today?”
“And who the hell are you?”
Rule number one: never show emotion. Customer service is a battlefield of facial expressions.
“I’ll help you resolve any inconvenience you’ve experienced. Please tell me what happened.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could feel Pinea staring at me wide-eyed.
The troublemaker looked me up and down before launching into the same rant again.
“This girl told me she won’t give me a refund! Can you believe her?!”
I smiled.
“I see.”
Always polite, never submissive. That was the trick—to make them feel you’d stay calm no matter how much they screamed.
“I understand the grapes didn’t taste good. Of course, we’ll refund you.”
“…What?”
Pinea’s eyes trembled in shock. Is that really okay? she seemed to ask silently.
Better to lose a few grapes than waste the store’s reputation over this nonsense, I thought.
Not that I planned to pay out of my own pocket.
But the customer suddenly snapped again.
“Oh, now it’s fine? So earlier, she just didn’t want to refund me?!”
Why are you mad even when you’re getting your way?
My smile didn’t falter, though I mentally chanted patience, patience, patience.
“That’s not the case. It’s just that you came in with an empty container, which confused our staff. It’s the first time we’ve had that happen, so her response might’ve been a little clumsy.”
“…!”
Which was my polite way of saying: You’re the first person stupid enough to demand a refund without bringing the product.
I lowered my lashes apologetically.
“Until now, all our customers with product issues have brought the actual item for verification. We simply didn’t expect a situation like this.”
“Then I—!”
Realization dawned too late. The customer’s face flushed a deep red. She opened her mouth to argue again, but I cut in first.
“I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding. We’ll make sure our refund policy is clearly displayed so this doesn’t happen again. For now, I’ll make an exception and process the refund. Would that be acceptable?”
The meaning was clear: this is the first and last time.
“Ah… well…”
Perhaps realizing how many people were watching, the customer’s bluster deflated instantly.
“Senior, shall I proceed with the refund?”
All eyes turned to the senior hiding in the corner. Startled, she quickly nodded.
“Do it.”
Good. With witnesses around, she couldn’t come after me for this later.
Pinea scribbled the refund reason on a slip and handed over the money. The customer scowled but didn’t say another word as she accepted it.
Guess the ending didn’t go the way she imagined.
She’d probably envisioned berating us, forcing us to bow, and then smugly walking out with both her refund and her pride intact.
But now that her brain had caught up with reality—and everyone in the shop knew she was the problem—she just wanted to escape.
“Thank you for visiting, ma’am. Have a nice day.”
The little bell above the door jingled as she left.
A beat of silence—and then, cheers erupted.
“Whoa!”
“My heart was pounding so hard!”
“Cornelia, I didn’t know you had it in you!”
“Did you see her face when she walked out?”
“She’s never coming back after that.”
Apparently, this woman was a regular troublemaker who visited often to pick fights. Each time, the senior conveniently disappeared, leaving the trainees to deal with her.
“But this one was legendary, and you actually handled it!”
Some customers even clapped.
The one in the black robe, who’d quietly observed everything, gave me a small nod.
“I come here often, and that woman always ruined the atmosphere. Now I can finally shop here in peace.”
“You stayed so calm. I could never do that.”
I couldn’t exactly admit that I’d done it to protect my paycheck, so I just laughed awkwardly.
“Haha…”
That’s when my eyes met Pinea’s. She looked flustered, glanced away, then turned back.
“Th…thank you.”
Her freckled cheeks turned as red as her orange hair.
“Oh. Sure.”
I hadn’t expected gratitude, but if it repaired my image with a once-hostile coworker, that was definitely a win.
Maybe work life will be a bit easier now.
***
And just as I hoped, things did get easier.
From the next day on, I could greet coworkers and ask questions freely without awkwardness. My tasks expanded beyond organizing stock—I was now trusted to handle sales too.
Even Pinea stopped picking fights. Nicola teased me, saying getting sick must’ve made me more mature.
Not exactly wrong, though the “sickness” was more like a soul swap.
Of course, I couldn’t tell anyone that, so I just smiled and went along.
I still had no clue how I’d ended up in this world, or why.
But after about two weeks here, one thing was clear—if I kept living like this, I’d just repeat my old life all over again.
And I refused to live merely surviving day to day ever again.
There must be a place where my skills are actually needed.
While polishing the display shelf, my gaze caught on a miniature model of a mansion—white walls, elegant windows, the kind of place where a noble lady might live.
It looked so spacious that you could probably run indoors without scuffing anything, with servants maintaining every inch of it.
Wouldn’t it be nice to live somewhere like that, just once?
Dreams are free, after all. I gripped the tiny mansion in my hand.
First, earn my meals. Then gain independence.
If I just kept my head down—worked steadily, paid back my perfume debt, and saved up—I could plan my next move. Build some experience, then move up to a better job. That was the plan.
***
“Coco, what are you doing after work?”
About thirty minutes before closing, Nicola asked as she cleaned up the counter.
“Me? Just going home, eating dinner, and sleeping.”
“Again? You should go out sometimes. Live a little!”
That was how most office workers lived.
Still, I used to do home workouts while watching YouTube to stay healthy. It wasn’t easy to keep up, but at least it kept me fit.
Now, looking down at these thin, frail arms, I realized I really needed to start again.
“Hey, Cornelia! A sec!”
It was the senior—the same one I’d mentally labeled a workplace villain. She waved me over.
I didn’t want to go, but refusing wasn’t an option, so I followed her.
She led me into the storage room, which was packed with newly delivered stock.
“Organize these by item type before you leave.”
“…Sorry?”
Normally, trainees weren’t responsible for new inventory.
“You can read and write, right? It’s simple work. You’ll finish before you know it.”
Then she shoved my shoulder and walked out.
With this frail body, I staggered backward and fell flat on my butt.
“Ow…”
I stared up at the mountain of boxes towering over me and let out a disbelieving laugh.
“Assigning extra work right before clock-out time? Wow… that’s crossing the line.”
