Waiting Room of Doom
The Trade Council didn't do anything small.
Even their waiting room looked like the lobby of a palace that accidentally married a bank. Gold-trimmed furniture. Floating paperwork. A magical receptionist who looked like she hadn't blinked since the invention of ink.
Min Jae stood at the counter, gripping his binder full of receipts, testimonials, and hand-drawn goat exemption forms.
The receptionist, a tall woman with glowing pupils and a nameplate that read "MEERNA – MAY OR MAY NOT BITE", tapped her quill.
"Name?"
"Min Jae. Basement Wizard. Artisanal nonsense merchant."
She flipped through a crystal-clear clipboard that displayed living holograms of every person waiting. One of them sneezed. Another was a literal cloud.
"Take a seat," Meerna said. "Don't touch the magazines. They're cursed."
---
The Competition
The chairs in the waiting room were arranged in a circle, as if designed to encourage maximum awkwardness. Min Jae sat between two very distinct individuals:
To his left: A man wearing a crown made entirely of licorice sticks. His nametag read "Lord Biz-Zar, Emperor of Edible Economics."
To his right: A woman in full plate armor holding a briefcase labeled "Cursed Cutlery Co."
Min Jae smiled nervously. "So... what brings you here?"
Lord Biz-Zar sniffed. "Someone claimed my edible invoices were unethical."
The knight-woman growled. "A spoon stabbed someone. It was labeled."
Min Jae simply nodded. "Yeah. Same vibe."
---
Goji: Secret Weapon
Goji had been let in with special permission—as long as he wore a tie and didn't urinate on anything legally binding.
He was currently sitting on a floating footstool, chewing on an "Approved Vendor Handbook" and glaring at the receptionist.
Every few minutes, he bleated aggressively at the crystal clock. Min Jae could swear it ticked faster out of fear.
"Behave," Min Jae whispered. "You're my emotional support goat-slash-legal loophole mascot."
Goji sneezed glitter and stared blankly ahead.
---
Time-Fold Tantrums
Across the room, a portal malfunctioned and spit out a trader who seemed to be halfway stuck in tomorrow.
"I was supposed to be first!" the man shouted, flickering in and out of view. "Timefold error! Check the sequence log!"
Meerna blinked slowly. "Take a number."
"But I am number one!"
"You're now number thirty-four."
The man sobbed and was swallowed by the vending machine, which accepted emotional distress as currency.
Min Jae made a note: Do not approach vending machines in Council buildings.
---
The Accusation Scroll
A floating parchment zipped across the room and hovered in front of Min Jae's face.
He reached out and read the red-lettered title:
> "Summary of Charges Against: Min Jae"
1. Unauthorized magical commerce
2. Sale of enchanted snack items without license
3. Use of portable cooking devices for non-approved transdimensional alchemy
4. Weaponizing breakfast
5. Illegally inspiring consumer confidence
He blinked at the last one.
"Oh no," he muttered. "I inspired people."
Goji headbutted the scroll, sending it spinning into a candle.
---
The Announcement
After what felt like three years and one interdimensional origami contest (which Goji won by eating the competition), a bell rang.
The receptionist's voice boomed:
"MIN JAE. YOU MAY NOW ENTER."
Min Jae stood, binder clutched to his chest. His knees felt wobbly. His hoodie smelled like nervousness and waffle batter.
Lord Biz-Zar gave a mock salute.
"Break a spoon," said the spoon lady.
Goji trotted beside him, tie askew, eyes gleaming with mischief.
They walked into the chamber.
---
The Trade Council
The chamber was enormous.
Twelve robed figures sat in a semi-circle. Each wore a different emblem—scrolls, gold coins, cauldrons, books, a rubber duck, and one guy just had a floating monocle.
In the center stood Clorb.
He looked exactly like Min Jae remembered: puffed up with the kind of bureaucratic satisfaction only found in people who believed in triplicate forms and using "heretofore" in casual conversation.
"Min Jae," Clorb intoned, "you stand accused of reckless innovation, unauthorized dimensional dealings, and undermining guild protocol."
"Thanks for the recap," Min Jae said, placing his binder on the glowing evidence pedestal. "Here's my response."
Clorb raised a brow. "A... binder?"
"Full of receipts. Witness letters. Legal carve-outs. Clauses you forgot existed. Also, a printed apology from that one cursed toaster I sold—written in crayon."
Clorb looked at the Council. "This is absurd."
The Council President, a woman wearing a judge's robe and a flower crown, smiled. "We like absurd."
---
The Defense Begins
Min Jae flipped open his binder.
"Let's begin with clause 8-A of the Artisan Loophole Treaty."
He read the passage aloud, eyes locked with Clorb.
> "Any independent vendor conducting interdimensional exchange under artisanal status, so long as no lives are endangered and no eldritch beings summoned, may conduct limited commerce for non-weapons-based goods."
"Now," Min Jae continued, "you'll find all my products are thoroughly tested, clearly labeled, and only mildly explosive when exposed to opera music."
Councilmember #5 raised a hand. "That's a niche hazard."
"Exactly," Min Jae said. "Rare."
---
Goji Makes a Scene
Just as the Council started murmuring among themselves, Goji trotted up to the evidence pedestal and placed a glowing jar on top.
Inside was a single rice cracker, faintly pulsing.
Councilmember #3, who hadn't spoken until now, leaned forward. "Is that... the Emotional Crunch?"
Clorb looked confused. "What?"
The member turned to Clorb. "My niece tried this and finally stopped writing sad poetry."
Goji bleated once—short and proud.
---
Council Deliberation
The Council huddled.
Min Jae waited, heart racing. He was already planning his backup plan (probably involved a trench coat and an underground pretzel cart).
Finally, the flower-crowned President stood.
"Min Jae," she said, "we find your goods unusual, your methods unconventional, and your goat suspicious."
Goji burped.
"However," she continued, "you have abided by the artisan clause. You've inspired public goodwill. And you've demonstrated a commitment to semi-safe business practices."
Clorb looked like he'd swallowed a hornet.
"We hereby reinstate your trade permissions. Effective immediately."
A massive seal glowed over Min Jae's head. A new badge floated down into his hands.
> CERTIFIED ARTISAN MERCHANT
"May the snacks be ever in your favor."
---
The Exit
As Min Jae left the chamber, Goji dancing circles around his legs, Kaldo and Yulena were waiting outside with a cart of celebratory dumplings.
"What happened?" Kaldo asked.
Min Jae tossed him the badge. "We're back in business."
Yulena raised an eyebrow. "You look smug."
"I've weaponized paperwork."
They toasted with dumplings.
In the distance, Clorb kicked over a vending machine.