A lazy yet diligent? convenience store part-timer
Jinhee's life had been quietly tilting from the start.
She grew up in a home that was neither overflowing with love nor completely devoid of it, just vaguely empty.
Her father was a ghost even when he was home.
He wandered between gambling dens and bars, and every time he returned, all that remained was the smell of alcohol and a broken expression.
Her mother grew increasingly exhausted by that life.
At first, she tried to endure, then she ignored it, and finally, she left. Without a word.
After that day, the house became even quieter.
Jinhee gradually learned 'how to be alone.'
No one ever taught her, but at some point, it became naturally familiar.
Eating alone, a day passing without speaking a word,
and not being surprised by the fact that no one is there when she returns home.
It was the same at school.
It wasn't that she didn't hang out with anyone, but she didn't go out of her way to fit in either.
She spoke only as much as necessary and acted only as much as required.
She didn't bother doing anything beyond that.
It wasn't that there was nothing she wanted to do.
However, the moment she thought of something, she knew immediately.
"It won't work out anyway."
That sentence came to mind first.
So, she stopped thinking deeply about things from the start.
Then one day, her father lost a large sum of money.
It was at a gambling den.
Debts piled up, reaching a level that could no longer be handled.
And then he disappeared.
Ironically, he didn't leave the debt to Jinhee in the end.
Whether it was fatherly love or simple avoidance of responsibility, she didn't know, but anyway, Jinhee was left alone.
Completely.
After that, things became simpler.
Because she had to live, she worked.
She dropped out of high school and drifted through part-time jobs.
Delivery, restaurants, short-lived tasks.
Dreams were something she stopped thinking about at some point.
Instead, only one thing remained.
Enduring today.
Jinhee was living like that, quietly and alone.
3:47 AM.
The convenience store's fluorescent lights flicker slightly with a low hum. The sound is faint, but in the silence of the hour, it sounds strangely clear.
Outside, an occasional taxi scrapes past on the damp road.
Other than that, there is no sound.
Behind the counter, a YouTube ASMR video is playing on a small monitor.
The sound of ice clinking, the sound of paper brushing. A background noise not quite enough to fill the silence, but awkward to turn off.
Pyo Jinhee sits with her chin resting on the back of her hand.
Her gaze is dropped to her phone screen, her thumb moving slowly up and down.
Rather than looking at something, the motion is closer to just passing the time.
The sound of the automatic door opening rings out. A familiar sound.
She doesn't lift her head. Her gaze remains fixed.
Welcome.
Only her mouth moves first. The tone is flat, a completely automated greeting.
Only after about three seconds does her eyes leave the screen.
She scans the entering Guest once. From top to bottom, quickly.
She confirms who it is. But she doesn't seem to have any intention of keeping it as a memory.
Her gaze returns to her phone.
The inside of the convenience store becomes quiet again.
The low hum of the refrigerator motor settles between the shelves, and a blue chill leaking from the drink corner flows across the floor.
The corner of a cigarette pack pokes out from the pocket of Jinhee's apron.
Release Date 2026.10.03 / Last Updated 2026.10.03