Guild Clerk, Goblin Teeth, and “That’s Not a Sword”

Minjae slouched in his chair, one leg lazily draped over the other while sipping on instant coffee he'd just made in his real-world kitchen. Around him, his small apartment buzzed faintly from his laptop fan and the occasional honk outside. He held a small bag—filled with actual goblin teeth—that he'd casually plucked from a dungeon run an hour ago.

"I swear, they stink worse than fermented skate," he muttered.

He tossed the bag onto the coffee table. As it hit the wooden surface with a dull thud, the portal shimmered slightly behind him—a faint blue circle etched into the tile like some accidental coffee spill with glowing runes. Unimpressed, he leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Just yesterday, he sold off a bunch of low-level monster parts to the fantasy world's local adventurers' guild. Now, he had gold coins in his sock drawer, dried wyvern scales in his closet, and a pickaxe leaning next to his umbrella stand.

He was beginning to feel like an illegal exporter. The good kind.

But there was one thing bothering him: he still didn't have a license. Apparently, the guild didn't care where you came from so long as you paid the fee and didn't look like a serial killer. But after three visits, the same receptionist—a young woman with sharp red eyes and a bun so tight it looked painful—was starting to get suspicious.

"Min...Jay, was it?" she had said last time, blinking slowly as if scanning him for lies. "You come from a far-off city, yes?"

"Yup. Very far. Extremely far. No idea how maps work, sorry."

"And your address?"

"...Floating mountain."

She paused. "Ah."

Surprisingly, she believed him. Or just gave up. Either way, he got a basic guild card. Now, he needed something bigger: merchant access.

His ultimate plan was starting to take shape. If he could become a registered trader, then funneling goods between worlds would be a lot easier. He could buy cheap cooking oil here, sell it over there for five times the price, and maybe retire before turning 25.

First, he had to deal with the goblin teeth.

---

Stepping back through the portal into the other world, Minjae landed on hard-packed dirt inside his personal dungeon base. Well—dungeon was generous. It was more like a glorified cave that he'd accidentally cleaned too well. The rocks had polish, and there was a decorative tapestry he'd stolen from a bandit camp.

He sighed and grabbed the bag.

Time to go to town.

---

The guild building in Rindel Town looked the same as ever: intimidating, way too big for the size of the town, and always smelling like wet fur and beer.

Minjae pushed open the heavy doors, earning a few glances from armored adventurers and one sketchy guy who looked like he'd eaten goblins for breakfast.

The receptionist, Merea—she finally told him her name last time—sat behind the counter flipping through a thick ledger. Her eyes flicked up, then narrowed.

"You again."

"Surprised? I thought I was your favorite customer."

"You're not."

"Well, that's just cold."

She sighed but stood up. "You're here to register the teeth?"

"Among other things," Minjae replied, placing the bag on the counter like it was a prize turkey. "Freshly collected. Still juicy."

The adventurer beside him gagged and shuffled away.

Merea pinched the bridge of her nose. "Do you know how many regulations you're skirting by selling monster parts without affiliation?"

"I do have a card."

"Barely a card. It's like an entry ticket to a fair. One wrong step and you're banned from every guild branch in the kingdom."

He leaned in. "That's why I'm here. I want to level up. Merchant license. Official trader. Black card. Platinum perks."

She looked up with a skeptical brow. "You're serious?"

Minjae grinned. "As a goblin's bad breath."

Merea stared at him, then down at the goblin teeth. She poked the bag with her quill, then sighed. "I'll see what I can do. Don't move."

While she disappeared into the back room, Minjae wandered to a side table where adventurers gathered. A few were arm-wrestling. One girl with a giant axe was chugging something that smelled like gasoline.

He sat down and watched, amused.

"Hey," someone said.

He turned to see a boy who looked barely sixteen, with huge glasses, a trembling satchel, and what could only be described as a metal ladle strapped to his back.

"You're the one who killed five goblins alone, right?"

Minjae blinked. "Where'd you hear that?"

"It's all over town!" the boy said, excited. "And then you beat up a bear with a frying pan!"

"Okay, that one's exaggerated. It was a wok."

"Still! You're amazing! Are you a royal?"

Minjae laughed. "Nope. Just a traveler."

The boy lowered his voice. "Are you… from the Hero's Continent?"

"Oh for the love of—there's a Hero's Continent?"

Before Minjae could reply, Merea called out, "Minjae! Come."

He patted the kid's shoulder. "Stay in school."

The kid looked confused.

---

In the back office, Merea handed him a scroll.

"This is a probationary merchant pass," she explained. "You're allowed to trade non-dangerous goods. That means no poison sacs, venom glands, or cursed bones."

"What about cursed vegetables?"

She glared.

"Okay, okay. Just checking."

"You'll be monitored by the merchant guild's branch. If you pass three evaluations, you'll get full privileges."

Minjae took the scroll reverently. "I feel like I'm holding my future."

"You're holding bureaucracy."

"Same thing, really."

She sat back down. "There's more. A man came looking for you."

Minjae froze.

"Tall. Cloaked. Said he heard of a strange traveler selling modern items. Asked if I knew anyone with a... 'door to elsewhere.'"

That made Minjae sweat a little. "And what did you say?"

"That you were selling goblin teeth and had zero social skills."

He smiled. "You really do like me."

"I genuinely don't."

---

Back in his base, Minjae examined his new merchant pass. He placed it carefully in a metal box under his bedroll and made a mental note to start pricing everything better. Maybe he could even open a shop.

As he mulled over the idea, a thud echoed near the portal. He turned, expecting a rock to have fallen—but instead saw a familiar satchel lying on the ground.

The boy with the ladle?

Minjae rushed forward and pulled him in through the glowing portal. He was out cold, bruised and dirt-streaked.

"What the hell?! How did he follow—no, wait. He didn't come through my side..."

There was no time to question. He dragged the boy to his bedroll, rummaged through a healing potion (which he had accidentally labeled "Pickle Juice"), and poured some into the kid's mouth.

The boy coughed, then blinked up at him. "I... I just wanted to see how the portal worked..."

Minjae groaned. "You idiot."

"Wait—this is your house? There's a whole world on the other side?! You live in a different dimension?!"

Minjae pressed a hand to his face.

So much for keeping this under wraps.