Vape Shop Isekai: A Retail Manager’s Guide to a Stolen World

Why did she keep letting men derail her missions?

“Cody, stop!” Simone yelled, pulling back on her horse's reins.

“Dude,” Cody said, pushing his draft horse further down the snowy trade route toward the bustling gates of Sunnydale. “Trust me. My last idea worked, right?”

“Your last idea was to buy a massive delivery fleet with money we barely had,” Simone audibly sighed, her frustration mounting. “That’s a far sight from casually stopping to pick up Hot Wangs on the way home when we are supposed to be securing our borders.”

“I’ll just be in and out,” he shrugged, ignoring her completely and heading for the city gates. “Why don’t you come see Thiccolus?”

Simone gasped, thoroughly annoyed. “First of all, not my type. Second of all, no. I’m putting my foot down. We have to get back.”

Cody shrugged again, completely unbothered. “Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Simone sat on her horse in shock as Cody happily trotted into the city without her. What was going on? Why was she just being stepped on? They had a mission. They were supposed to be equal partners on this run. This wasn’t a Friday night game session where you just fucked around and only got serious when the DM forced you to.

They never listened to her. Not back on Earth, and apparently, not now.

What did this new body change if nothing else did? Everyone still treated her exactly the same. Wasn’t that the point of coming here? A fresh start? Then why did it feel so incredibly wrong? The body matched her soul perfectly now. Why was her heart so heavy?

She needed something to do for a few minutes while he wasted time. Maybe it was time to introduce herself to Jeffrey McNichol and get a free hat to kick off Sara's anti-Hal crusade. Hal certainly wasn’t going to like his tiny competitor getting a boost, but they needed the money.

The streets of Sunnydale were busier today. It was Palentine’s Day. Mark had let Sara create a minor holiday in the lore, and her idea was to spread the concept of cross-gender platonic friendships. Instead of private, candle-lit romantic dinners, friend groups of all races and distributions gathered in the public squares to huck handfuls of literal shit at a cheap, five-point wooden crown. The meals were street foods from all over the world, served bite-sized and dirt cheap so you could try a bit of everything. Orc men chatted happily with Dwarven women. Drow males playfully smudged dollops of feces on laughing Dragonkin women’s snouts.

As much as she wished she could let her guard down and join in, she had work to do. Maybe next year.

There it was, at the end of the corridor. LIHDZ.

There were two people standing in a neat line outside the door. Wow. They were already going to make money. As Simone passed through an abnormally large group of male friends gathered outside a Benefits: They Can Be Yours seminar, she noticed that it was only a line because the store wasn’t open. The door and windows were tightly shuttered.

She paused, pulling her horse up. Something was wrong.

“She’s probably out with a friend.”

Cody’s voice shocked her. He pulled up beside her, holding two massive, Panera-catering-sized bags grease-stained with Hot Wangs. “Didn’t think I was going to miss this side adventure too, did you?”

After she resolved her shock, her anger flared back up. “Yeah. That’s gotta be it.”

“I told you I was only going to be a few minutes, dude,” Cody said, misreading her tone entirely. “You could have waited.”

“I’m…” Her gears spun, the frustration finally boiling over. “No. Dude. You dragged me all the way out here, completely ignoring what I wanted to do, just to get that fucking food. It’s not even that good.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Cody said defensively. “I don’t just come for the food. I have friends here. Thiccolus just broke up with his boyfriend. Said he’s never dating a Troll again. Too toxic.”

“That’s not the point!” Simone yelled, her voice shaking with sudden, hot anger. “Why are you just acting like this is life as normal? Why are you just acting like I’m still… Simon? You completely ignored me!”

“Whoa.” Cody dropped his goofy Jester demeanor instantly. His feline eyes locked onto hers, dead serious. “I’m treating you like you’re my friend, Simone. The only thing your physical appearance matters to me is that it finally makes you happy. You want me to treat you differently because you’re a girl now? No. I don’t treat Sara differently, and I won’t treat you differently. You're my party.”

“Well, maybe you should!” Simone raged, tears of frustration pricking her eyes. “You’ve never listened to a thing I’ve said!”

“Your birthday is November 5th,” Cody stated, his voice calm and steady. “Your favorite color is seafoam. You say you like mushrooms, but you never actually eat the pizza slices with them on it. You always like to use the exact same elf ranger mini on the tabletop, no matter what class you actually play.”

Simone’s jaw dropped. The fight left her instantly. “How…”

“I’ve known you’ve had a crush on Mark since last Halloween,” Cody continued, shaking his furry head. “I see things, Simone. I pay attention. I just don’t care about the superficial stuff. You make my life better, and I want to hang out with you. You're my friend. Now, can we please go home?”

She hung her head, the heavy weight in her chest suddenly vanishing. Was she just imagining the slights? Did he really just see her for her? “How many times have you actually been to Wangs?”

“Nine,” Cody stated, his expression relaxing back into his usual grin.

“What?” Simone blinked. “How? We’ve been here like three days.”

“Yep!” he said proudly. “Let’s go home.”

“No,” Simone said, her confidence fully restored. She looked back at the shuttered kiosk. “I want to make sure Jeffrey McNichol is okay.”

Cody shrugged. “Why not? It would kind of be nice to have a hat, anyway.”

“I can’t imagine you in a hat,” Simone muttered as she approached the two people standing stoically outside the shop. Both were Tortles. “Hi! How long have you been waiting?”

The Tortles slowly turned their reptilian heads to Simone. The one in the back answered. “Since six. They said they would be right back.”

Simone narrowed her eyes. “Six this morning?”

“Nope,” the other Tortle said plainly. “Six last night.”

“Where in the world could she be?” Simone turned to Cody, who was staring dumbfoundedly at the two NPCs.

“Why the fuck did you stay here all night?” Cody asked, looking at them like he didn’t understand the fundamental principles of existence itself.

Simone waited. It took her a moment to remember how basic game pathing worked before the lead Tortle answered perfectly.

“She asked us to wait here until she got back.”

Cody's brain broke. “But… just… if… buhhhhhhh.”

“Do you know which way they went?” Simone asked, taking over the heavy lifting while Cody rebooted.

“To the docks,” the rear Tortle said confidently.

“The city is landlocked,” Simone sighed.

The lead Tortle smiled a blank, polite smile. “But we still have a Docks section of town.”

Cody cocked his head, recovering. “Where? I gotta see this.”

“Northeast quadrant,” the Tortle responded.

It made sense. They hadn’t patrolled that sector yet.

“Thank you so much for your time,” Simone said as they turned to walk away.

“Don’t fall in!” the other Tortle shouted unhelpfully as they left earshot.

“Maybe I should take my Wangs back to the horses first,” Cody shrugged, still lugging the giant, delicious-smelling catering bags. “Could give me a leg up in combat.”

“Keep your leg down in combat, please,” Simone shuddered, remembering his grooming habits. “And during briefings, too.”

It only took them another few minutes to reach the Docks, and Simone was instantly baffled. The "Docks" section of town was exactly that: literal commercial loading docks. The kind you would find in the concrete shipping alley behind a modern Walmart. Sturdy, square warehouses dotted the sector. Wooden boxes and crates were being loaded into massive freight wagons backed tightly into the raised loading bays. Heavily armored Owlbears walked around with shaved heads and tactical Oakleys, aggressively pushing the laborers around.

“What the fuck?” Cody stared at the absurd anachronism.

“This must be Craig’s main distribution hub,” Simone whispered, pressing her back flat against a brick wall and peeking around the corner. “We need to get in there and look for Jeffrey McNichol.”

“And let’s disrupt this asshole’s supply flow while we're at it,” Cody said, gently stashing his Wangs bags in a small, hidden corner nook. “Let’s go.”

Simone grabbed his furry arm. “We can’t just charge in there. Look at those Owlbears. That one over there looks like Thor Bjornsson with a monk cut.”

Cody shook his head, sizing them up. “Yeah, but that one over there looks like Rick Harrison. We can take ‘em. I’ve always wanted to punch Rick Harrison.”

Simone was done arguing with his chaotic logic. “No! I am not letting you do this again. We go over there, through that second-story window. We both have high Dex, so the climb should be nothing.”

Cody shrugged. “Lead on.”

They dashed through the deep shadows between the buildings until they reached their target: the biggest, most active of the three warehouses. A stack of discarded crates along the side of the brick made the climb to the second-floor roof and through the open window incredibly easy.

Simone crouched on a high wooden crossbeam, looking down into the cavernous warehouse. Workers stacked and loaded pallets of vape juice. Owlbears cracked whips and hooted angrily. It looked like a stealth mission from any video game she’d ever played. And, true to the genre's fashion, there was a single, reinforced door in the back corner guarded by a lone Owlbear that raged at any worker who got too close.

“That’s our target.” Simone pointed to the room and danced lightly out onto the narrow crossbeams high above the floor. “Come on.”

Cody followed silently as they precariously balanced over the heads of the laborers below. The light up in the rafters was low, so the chance of being spotted was minimal. They came to a stop just above the guarded door.

“I’ll go down and distract him. You get in there,” Cody whispered.

Simone shook her head. “No, it's too—”

He was already dropping toward the floor. Fucking feline agility. Cody landed gracefully in a crouch behind a stack of crates, popped up, and whistled loudly. “Hey! Was your mom the owl or the bear?”

The Owlbear guard’s beady eyes went wide with rage. He lunged at Cody, who easily dipped to the side, unsheathing his shortsword.

“Did your dad split her in half with his big bear dick?” Cody taunted, dodging another wild, raging swing that shattered a crate. “Seriously, though. Who thought this through logistically? He couldn’t have been the owl, because then you came from a really tiny, disappointing owl cock!”

The Owlbear roared furiously and charged. Cody laughed, leading the enraged beast away from the door and into the labyrinth of stacked warehouse pallets.

Simone dropped silently from the rafters, landing softly in front of the unguarded door, and slipped inside with ease.

Tied tightly to a wooden chair in the middle of the small, dusty office was Jeffrey McNichol. They were unharmed, but looked incredibly confused.

“Who are you?” the Tortle asked.

Simone ducked behind the chair and started quickly sawing at the thick ropes with her dagger. “I’m Simone. Sara’s friend. We came for the hats.”

Jeffrey McNichol stood up, rubbing their scaly wrists, and gawked at Simone. “Wait! You lived there, too? Earth in the 1990s and 2000s?”

Simone peeked out the door crack to make sure the coast was still clear. “I was. Why did you get captured?”

“I get my leather and thread from this warehouse,” Jeffrey McNichol said, absolutely giddy. “Quick question: Star Trek or Star Wars?”

Simone raised an elegant Elven eyebrow. “Star Trek, unequivocally. Now, finish that thought.”

Jeffrey McNichol cocked their head in surprise. “Really? Star Trek over Star Wars? Fascinating. And yeah, these guys just showed up at the kiosk and threw me in here.”

“Picard’s cool confidence over Disney’s endless drive for merchandising money, any day,” Simone said, cutting the conversation off. “Stop. I will answer all the pop-culture questions you want later, but we need to get out of here right now.”

“Okay,” Jeffrey McNichol whispered. “I can show you a back way out.”

Jeffrey McNichol took the lead, slipping out the door and turning left—the same way Cody had been chased. They crept to a junction between the pallets and peered into the open warehouse floor. It was absolute chaos. Cody was jumping effortlessly from box to box, a giant cat-smile on his face, occasionally lifting his leg to disrespectfully spray a pallet of goods while the Owlbear trashed the inventory trying to catch him.

“Oh, who is that?” Jeffrey McNichol stared in absolute awe.

“That’s Cody,” Simone hissed. “He’s my bro.”

“Oh, okay!” Jeffrey McNichol smiled widely. Before Simone could even move to stop them, the Tortle cupped their hands over their mouth and yelled across the warehouse. “Hey, Cody! We’re ready to go!”

Cody stopped mid-jump. He looked over at them, grinning and giving a thumbs up.

It was just a second too long.

Two massive Owlbears tackled him out of mid-air, slamming him brutally into the concrete floor. Cody yelled out, his sword clattering away as four more Owlbears swarmed the pile, burying him under a mountain of muscle and feathers.

“Shit,” Simone breathed, knowing instantly that the fight was lost. There were too many. “Run.”

Jeffrey McNichol turned and dashed down a side access hallway, throwing their heavy shell against an emergency exit door. It popped open into the freezing night air, and Simone bounded through right behind them. The enraged hoots of the Owlbears echoed down the hall behind them.

They ran blindly into the chaotic, maze-like streets of Poverty Town—a district Mark had named aptly in jest at all the DMs who tried to cover their generic, impoverished slums with offensively coded fantasy names.

Finally, Jeffrey McNichol stopped, ducking into a tiny, trash-filled alley. They scrambled up a rickety wooden ladder onto the flat roof of the interconnected buildings. Simone followed, her lungs burning.

From the roof, Simone could look back over the district toward the loading docks. Through the glow of the magical streetlamps, she saw it. Cody, bound tightly in heavy chains, was being forcefully loaded into the back of an armored transport wagon along with a handful of other bruised workers.

“Where are they going?” Simone’s heart skipped a heavy beat. She couldn’t let Cody get taken away. He was her party.

Jeffrey McNichol huffed heavily, catching their breath against the cold brick. “The King’s country estate.”

[SYSTEM ALERT: Encounter failed.]

[XP Awarded: 0]

[Level Up Available! Unspent Attribute Points: 4]

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