Min Jae had dealt with a lot lately—glowing grapes, breakfast duels, cult-level chicken enthusiasts—but he wasn't prepared for a letter written in golden ink nailed to his trapdoor.
He blinked at it. The handwriting shimmered slightly.
> To: Min Jae of the Lower Realm
The Bureau of Magical Trade and Unauthorized Wizardry (BMTUW) requests your presence at the Crescent Guildhall. Non-compliance may result in confiscation of goods, reclassification as "Mythic Swindler," or transdimensional fines.
Sincerely,
Interim Judge of Magical Commerce – Dentrith Clorb
"Making Worlds Safer for Spreadsheets"
Min Jae stared at the signature.
"Clorb," he muttered. "That name sounds like a sneeze."
Goji bleated in agreement and immediately tried to eat the letter.
---
Korean Coffee and Existential Dread
Min Jae sat in his apartment kitchen, swirling instant coffee with his metal chopsticks and glaring at his spreadsheet. The numbers looked good.
Glow crystals: 42 units sold
Enchanted snacks: 28 packs
Weird seed-thing that made your voice deeper: sold to a YouTuber
He'd made over ₩9.8 million in two weeks.
But now there was a guild. A judge. A magical summons.
And a part of him? He loved it.
"This is either the beginning of a fantasy empire," he said aloud, "or a really dumb way to get arrested in two realities."
He opened his closet and began packing.
Butane stove? Check. Extra batteries? Check. Charcoal tablets? Check. A massive printed certificate that read "Totally Real Wizard License – Signed, Also Real People" in Comic Sans?
Absolutely check.
---
The Road to the Guildhall
After stepping through the trapdoor, Min Jae emerged into a full-on merchant caravan preparing for travel. The village was buzzing like a video game before a major quest.
Kaldo greeted him with his usual grin and a suspiciously luxurious cloak.
"Ah! Wizard Min! You've been summoned. Important stuff. Possibly fatal."
"I was hoping for that exact ratio," Min Jae said dryly.
They rode together in a mule-drawn cart that looked like a blend between a medieval Uber and a disaster waiting to happen. Yulena followed on horseback with Goji trotting beside her, headbutting anything that looked like paperwork.
"Guildhalls are annoying," she muttered.
"Is it true they make you sign things in your own blood?" Min Jae asked.
"Only if you're late."
Min Jae started writing an excuse in advance.
---
Arrival at Bureaucracy Central
The Crescent Guildhall wasn't a building—it was a stone fortress designed by someone who deeply loved stamps. Massive stone pillars. Flags bearing guild emblems. A central tower with a spinning quill sculpture at the top.
Inside, it smelled like burnt parchment and expensive perfume.
They were greeted by an elf in a crisp blazer who introduced himself as Junior Quillmaster Loam and escorted them to "the waiting chamber," which was a glorified closet with chairs.
Min Jae sat, bouncing his knee.
"What if they know I'm not really a wizard?"
"They do," Yulena said, picking at her nails.
"...And you're not worried?"
"You beat a licensed fire mage in a waffle duel. You'll be fine."
Goji snorted and kicked over a decorative potted plant.
Min Jae took that as a blessing.
---
The Judge and the Loophole
An hour later, Min Jae was led into the Grand Review Chamber, which looked like a courtroom designed by someone who thought chandeliers should also spin.
At the far end, Judge Dentrith Clorb sat on a velvet dais with scrolls stacked to the ceiling.
He peered at Min Jae through thick round lenses.
"You, sir," Clorb boomed, "are an anomaly. Unlicensed, untrained, and alarmingly profitable."
"Thank you," Min Jae said. "I moisturize."
Clorb ignored him.
"You cannot continue operating cross-dimensional trade without documentation. We are not in the business of encouraging chaos."
"Unless it's taxable chaos," Kaldo muttered beside him.
Min Jae cleared his throat. "So what are my options?"
Clorb unrolled a scroll.
"There is one route. You may qualify for Artisan Exception Protocol 17-C—if you prove your worth through a sanctioned magical demonstration."
Yulena leaned over. "Is this going to be another cooking contest?"
"No," Clorb said solemnly. "It will be... a Trial of Applied Wonders."
Min Jae raised an eyebrow. "That's vague."
Clorb smiled. "Exactly."
---
Trial of Applied Wonders
The next morning, Min Jae stood in a courtyard surrounded by guild officials, curious onlookers, and a few bored pigeons. His task? Use "nontraditional magic" to solve a community problem.
His problem? The local bakery's enchanted oven had exploded, and now the dough inside was spreading... and still rising.
Min Jae stared at the bubbling mass of yeasty chaos.
"Let me get this straight. You want me to fix that?"
"It grows 12 inches an hour," someone explained.
"It also hums," added another.
Min Jae set down his pack.
Time for a little modern magic.
---
The Solution
Step 1: He borrowed three villagers and gave them rubber gloves from his Korea stash.
Step 2: Using baking soda, vinegar, and water, he slowed the yeast's activity.
Step 3: He pulled out his waffle iron, the portable stove, and a mini fan.
Step 4: He made 34 loaves of "emergency bread," five waffle sandwiches, and a round dough creature he accidentally named "Muffinstein."
The crowd applauded. The officials wrote furiously.
Judge Clorb approached, chewing on a sourdough bun.
"You win this round, Basement Wizard."
Min Jae gave a dramatic bow.
---
Certified Wizard (Technically)
Later that evening, Min Jae received a scroll embossed with the Guild Seal. It read:
> This certifies that Min Jae, Practitioner of Unconventional Arts, is authorized to conduct limited magical commerce across regulated domains.
Terms: No summoning storms indoors. No edible glitter. Goats are not allowed in courtrooms.
He looked at Goji.
Goji kicked over another potted plant.
---
Back in Seoul
Min Jae returned home with a new scroll, a pocket full of enchanted peppermints, and a plan.
He sat down at his desk and launched a website:
> WizardBasement.kr Real Goods. Possibly Magical. Definitely Weird.
Within the hour, he got three orders, an email from a curious journalist, and a message from his cousin:
> "Bro are you selling wizard kimchi? I saw you on TikTok."
Min Jae grinned.
"Yeah," he said aloud, "this might actually work."
Goji bleated in agreement.