Min Jae's day had already hit its peak excitement level with a microwaved kimchi fried rice and a YouTube binge that spiraled from "how to fix your faucet" to "cat sneezes compilation."
And then the thump happened.
It came from the basement. Which was weird, because the only things down there were old laundry, some broken appliances, and the slowly spreading smell of regret.
Min Jae froze mid-bite. "...Please let that be a rat. Or a very polite burglar."
Against better judgment, he grabbed a slipper and crept down the creaky stairs like a guy halfway between Bruce Lee and a pizza delivery guy with bad knees.
And that's when he saw it.
In the middle of his cluttered basement, surrounded by dusty boxes labeled "unopened stuff from college", was a large, old-looking trapdoor.
Min Jae blinked.
It definitely hadn't been there yesterday. Or ever.
---
"Absolutely not."
That's what he said. Out loud. To the trapdoor.
Then he stood there for a full minute, holding the slipper like a holy relic, and considered calling literally anyone. Except… who do you call when a magical piece of the floor shows up in your basement?
The police?
"Hello, officer, I have an interdimensional carpentry issue."
Nope.
So, he did the only reasonable thing.
He opened it.
And instead of rotting floorboards or some vintage mold, there was a tunnel. Stone walls, faint torchlight, and a breeze that smelled like fresh bread and pine needles. He heard… voices?
"Quick! Someone tell the elder the portal is open!"
Min Jae blinked.
"…Portal?"
---
Welcome to Definitely-Not-Korea
Stepping through was like falling into a Ghibli movie after drinking expired banana milk. On the other side, there was a village. Like, a real village—mud huts, wooden carts, suspicious chickens. The people were wearing tunics and cloaks and staring at him like he'd walked out of the sky.
"Is that… the Great Wizard?" one whispered.
Min Jae looked down. He was still wearing house slippers, a saggy white T-shirt, and sweatpants with an old ramen stain. A true image of glory.
"I told you the prophecy was real!" cried a kid, pointing at his shirt. "Look! He bears the mark of the NAI-KI!"
Min Jae glanced at the faded Nike logo on his chest and nearly choked.
Before he could run back, a group of villagers approached—bowing, offering something that looked like slightly wet bread, and saying things like:
> "Bless us, oh Sage of the Hidden Cellar!"
"We offer three goats and one very confused chicken!"
"...I should've stayed upstairs," Min Jae muttered.
---
Wizarding, Apparently
He was carried—literally carried—on a wooden board to a place they called "The Hall of Prophecy," which looked suspiciously like someone's living room with a curtain and dramatic candles.
The elder (who had a beard so long it needed a belt) looked him in the eye and said, "You must be the one the portal has chosen. Tell us—how shall we defeat the Bandits of Grodmark?"
Min Jae, exhausted, confused, and very much done, said the only thing his tired, caffeine-deprived brain could think of:
"…Do you have duct tape?"
The elder gasped like he had just revealed divine knowledge.
---
Final Thoughts of the Day
Back in his room, Min Jae collapsed onto his bed with a sack of weirdly glowing berries, a scroll titled "Rain Summon (Beginner)", and a hand-drawn picture of himself riding a chicken.
He stared at the ceiling.
"Okay. Cool. This is fine. My basement leads to another world. They think I'm a wizard. I was gifted a goat."
His microwave dinged.
Back to Earth.
Tomorrow, he'd figure out if fantasy bread could be sold on Coupang.