CHAPTER 22: CHAPTER 22- LATE NIGHT HORROR

With a soft chime, the glass doors of the Dimerian Store parted.

A cold blast of air conditioning greeted Kaidren, brushing across the back of his neck and ruffling a few strands of his straight black hair. He stepped into the brightly lit convenience store, both hands tucked casually into the pouch of his faded pink hoodie. His dark eyes, unreadable and sharp, swept across the interior without much expression.

It looked... ordinary.

Multiple rows of shelves lined the store, stocked with the usual suspects—chips in flashy metallic bags, candy in loud, colorful wrappers, instant noodles stacked in towers, and a beverage cooler humming quietly at the far end. It was all clean and organized, perhaps too much so, like a store rarely visited. The fluorescent lights above flickered faintly every now and then, and the tiled floor—light gray and sterile—reflected his figure with ghost-like clarity.

This was his first time stepping foot inside a convenience store in this world.

And ironically, it was also where he’d be working his first job.

He muttered plainly under his breath, "So this is it."

His voice was flat but not entirely lifeless. There was the faintest undercurrent of reflection, a soft glimmer buried beneath years of emotional detachment. A memory stirred—of him walking the aisles of a corner store back on Earth. Cold nights. Plastic-wrapped meals. Countless brands he never recognized. He didn’t go there for food. He went because it felt less lonely than his own home after his parents died.

Kaiden’s eyes trailed over the shelves. Some snack packages had chibi-style espers in exaggerated battle poses, complete with dramatic slogans like "Unleash Crunch Strike!" or "Taste the Tier-1 Tempest!" His brow barely twitched.

"...Ridiculous."

He passed by a shelf of biscuits and paused briefly at a wall of instant noodles—so many brands and variants that even he felt mildly overwhelmed. His stomach gave a quiet protest. Maybe he was a little hungry.

Still, he moved on.

At the very back of the store, behind the rows of merchandise and advertisements plastered in Esper glyphs and neon fonts, was the counter. And slouched behind that counter, arms crossed and head bobbing slightly forward, was a young man.

The guy looked like a husk of someone who hadn’t slept in weeks.

He wore a two-toned white and blue uniform with short sleeves, a matching cap barely holding back his mess of dark hair, and eyes that were unmistakably bloodshot. Just as Kaidren approached the counter, the man let out a jaw-breaking yawn, loud and shameless. He tried and failed to cover his mouth in time, making him look more like a reanimated corpse than a store clerk.

Kaiden gave the display a brief, neutral glance.

A few months ago, he might’ve insulted at the sight. Now, after what he’d been through? A guy yawning so hard he looked like a zombie didn’t even register as strange.

As the stranger finally noticed Kaidren’s approach, he blinked away his exhaustion and quickly straightened his back. He stood up a little too fast, slapping both palms on the counter as if to jolt himself awake.

"Ah—hey! Welcome! Uh... What can I do for you?" he said, voice trying to sound energetic but clearly strained.

Kaiden’s gaze held steady.

"I’m the new night shift hire," he replied flatly.

The tired guy froze mid-blink. He stared at Kaidren as if trying to determine whether he had hallucinated the words or not. For a few seconds, it was dead silent between them.

Then his expression changed completely.

"Wait... Seriously? You’re him? You’re actually the one the boss hired?!"

Kaidren gave a slow nod.

The guy’s eyes lit up like it was Espermas morning. He rushed around the counter with a speed that betrayed his earlier zombie-like demeanor and clapped a friendly hand on Kaidren’s shoulder.

"Bro! Finally! I thought I was gonna drop dead in here," he said, voice cracking with gratitude. "You have no idea how long I’ve been doing both the day and night shifts alone. I mean, weeks, man. Nobody was applying!"

Kaidren let him ramble, the corner of his eye twitching slightly from the unexpected physical contact.

He wasn’t used to being touched. Not by strangers. Not by anyone, really. But there was no hostility in the guy’s body language, no suspicious fluctuation of Nexarion energy, no killing intent, not even a flicker of deceit. Just raw exhaustion and a little too much relief. Kaidren’s instincts—refined now that he’d activated his esper abilities—would have sensed any danger. The guy was harmless.

Still, he thought silently:

If he pulls anything stupid... I won’t be too nice about it.

Completely oblivious to Kaidren’s inner thoughts, the man grinned and continued.

"I’m Ren, by the way. Officially the day shifter-slash-everything guy until today." He gestured dramatically to the quiet aisles around them. "And now? You, my friend, are the savior of my back pain. Welcome aboard."

Kaidren blinked once. "Kaidren."

"Cool name," Ren said without missing a beat, leading him past the counter. "Follow me. I’ll show you the lounging area. It’s not much, but there’s a couch and a coffee machine that sometimes works. Also, don’t use the microwave unless you want a lightshow."

They walked past a blue-colored door at the back of the counter area, slightly scratched but clean. Ren tapped a code into the keypad beside it and the door clicked open, revealing a small but decently kept break room with a wall fan spinning in slow circles. A small locker, a sink, a clock ticking louder than it should, and a mini-fridge humming unevenly made up the rest of the space.

Kaidren stepped inside, looking around calmly.

His first job in this world.

A convenience store clerk.

The idea itself didn’t stir much in him, but it was practical. He needed income. A base. Somewhere unassuming, quiet. And this... this was as unassuming as it got.

Ren leaned against the wall and let out a long, grateful exhale.

"Man, you don’t know what this means. I can finally go home at night."

Kaidren looked at him.

"Then go."

Ren blinked. Then laughed. "Right? You’re the chill type, huh? I like that."

Kaidren didn’t respond. He was already scanning the space, memorizing exits, blind spots, shelf positions, camera angles. Old habits from a lifetime of caution.

Ren, sensing the quiet intensity behind those black eyes, just scratched the back of his head and smiled awkwardly.

"Welp. You’re gonna be fine here, Kaidren. Just stay behind the counter, ring up anyone who shows up, and if anyone tries to rob the place... scream real loud. That’s the protocol."

Kaidren finally spoke again.

"I won’t scream."

Ren stared, then laughed again, a bit nervously this time.

"Right. Of course not."

As the blue door clicked shut behind them and the clock on the wall ticked into the first hour of Kaidren’s night shift, he silently stared at the empty store beyond the break room.

______________________________________

A few minutes had passed since they entered the back lounge of the Dimerian Store, and now, the blue-colored door creaked open again with the soft murmur of voices drifting through its gap.

Kaidren was the first to step out.

His appearance had changed slightly now—fitted in the store’s uniform. A crisp white T-shirt with short, sky-blue sleeves, dark blue pants that clung slightly at the waist, and a standard-issue blue cap now sat snugly atop his head, casting a soft shadow over his expressionless black eyes.

Behind him followed Ren, now in his regular clothes—an old, slightly discolored white T-shirt and a pair of worn-out black jeans. A lingering look of fatigue still hung on his face, but the relief in his posture was impossible to miss. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing sideways at Kaidren before finally speaking.

"You sure you’re good to handle this alone?"

Kaidren glanced at him but said nothing yet.

Ren exhaled through his nose. "I mean, I know we went over most of it in the back—how to scan items, where the cleaning stuff is, locking up protocols, the trash bins out back—but still. I now feel kinda bad leaving you on your first shift without someone to back you up if I think about it."

Kaidren gave a slight nod, his tone flat. "Don’t worry. I’ll manage."

Ren blinked at the simple answer, unsure whether to feel comforted or dismissed. But Kaidren’s tone didn’t carry arrogance—just certainty. And that was something.

"Well... if you’re sure," Ren said, rubbing his arms before looking toward the door. "Thanks again, seriously. It’s been hell doing day and night shifts. You’re like... a gift from the void or something."

Kaidren raised a brow slightly at the phrasing but didn’t comment.

"Oh—and remember what I said," Ren added, now pointing fingers like ticking off a checklist. "Take out the trash by 1 AM. Sweep and mop before closing. Keep an eye on the back cooler—it tends to make a weird noise when it wants to freeze up again. And, also, uh, be careful with weird customers. Sometimes late-nighters aren’t exactly... stable."

"Noted," Kaidren said plainly.

Ren gave a tired smile. "Alright. Don’t let the boredom kill you. Good luck, Night Shifter."

He waved, taking one last look around the store before making his way out. The automatic doors hissed open, letting in the cool breath of City Z’s night air, and closed gently behind him. Kaidren watched the man’s silhouette vanish into the darkness, then slowly turned his focus towards the store’s empty aisles.

The silence felt heavier now.

The only sound was the soft electronic hum from the beverage coolers, the distant buzz of the ceiling lights, and the occasional faint whisper of wind brushing against the glass entrance. The store, under its sterile fluorescent glow, stood still like a paused frame in an old film.

Kaidren quietly walked toward the blue employee door again and returned moments later carrying a plastic chair—a light green one with a slightly tilted back that allowed just enough lean to rest comfortably. He set it in front of the counter, facing the automatic door so he could keep an eye on potential customers. The cash register sat to his right, untouched and neatly arranged.

He adjusted the chair slightly, then sat down with measured calm. His movements were efficient—one foot lifted, resting atop the wide counter table, his spine angled just enough to settle in without slouching. From the pocket of his uniform pants, he pulled out the familiar blue phone, its surface gleaming under the white store lights.

"Might as well pass the time," Kaidren muttered under his breath, unlocking the screen.

He opened Zbook, scrolling aimlessly through the feed before finding himself diving into a reel loop. One video led to another. Clips of people slipping on stairs, laughing over spilled coffee, or trying to balance one too many grocery bags at once—mundane human failures strung together into short bursts of amusement.

None of them were espers.

Just regular people.

Kaidren didn’t smile, but something in him relaxed. Watching the reels felt oddly grounding, like watching a world where powers didn’t matter. Where strength didn’t shape identity. A world of tiny embarrassments and fleeting victories. His eyes remained flat, yet the fact that he continued watching for over an hour said enough....

Outside, the city had fully surrendered to night.

Shadows stretched long past the storefront, and only the rare drone of a car engine echoed from a far-off intersection. The sidewalks were deserted. The skies above—empty. The Dimerian Store stood like a lone island in a silent sea of concrete.

Kaidren was in the middle of a video—someone getting startled by a squirrel—when the doors suddenly made a noise.

Shhhhck.

The distinct hiss of the automatic doors opening.

His foot slowly lowered from the counter.

He didn’t look immediately. Not because he was afraid. But because he had learned not to react instinctively to sudden changes—not until he could read them properly.

A second passed.

Then another.

Still... no footsteps. No voice. No customer’s greeting.

Kaidren’s eyes finally shifted away from the phone and toward the entrance.

The glass doors were... open.

Just standing wide, like someone had triggered the sensor—yet no one had entered. No breeze. No approaching figure. No silhouette moving in.

It was as if the store had opened its doors for a phantom.

Kaidren blinked once, his gaze sharpening ever so slightly.

No sound.

No shift in the wind.

Just the soft mechanical hum of the doors—and nothing else.

"...What the hell," Kaidren murmured under his breath, voice quiet and unhurried.

His grip on the phone didn’t tighten. His posture didn’t change dramatically. But something behind his dark eyes clicked. A quiet calculation began. One born not of fear, but from the unnerving familiarity of things behaving wrong.