I Am A Wizard Who Can Travel Between Earth And The Other World

In the bustling world of craftsmanship, the creation of enchanted artifacts often favored weapons and armor. Their surfaces, tempered and enduring, provided a perfect canvas for the intricate magic runes known as sulsik.

However, for those daring enough, there was another path—jewelry.

Though far more difficult to inscribe, success with such pieces commanded exorbitant prices far beyond conventional armaments.

Within the renowned Runewright Workshop, weapons and armor imbued with magic regularly sold for sums between three hundred million and seven hundred million gel.

The average price was typically around five hundred million. Yet, recently, an extraordinary artifact had emerged from their forge, one so exquisite that its price soared to an unparalleled fifteen billion gel.

It was a marvel of craftsmanship and sorcery, drawing admiration and insatiable demand from across the region. Rumors of Runewright's masterwork, an unparalleled shield, echoed throughout the city.

With orders flooding in, the workshop found itself stretched to its limits. Even with their current resources, they struggled to keep up.

The city's government had taken notice, expressing interest in acquiring the shields for military use and the protection of high-ranking officials.

The shield before Abby gleamed under the dim light of the underground workshop.

He regarded it in silence, his gaze cold and calculating.

As the leader of a clandestine crafting facility specializing in illicit magical artifacts, he was not easily impressed.

"This thing costs 1.5 billion gel?" he finally asked, his voice low and skeptical.

Peter, the man responsible for acquiring the shield, straightened and responded swiftly. "Yes, sir. And even at that price, the demand far exceeds supply.

I had to pull every string I had to get this one.

It's not an exaggeration—this is a high-grade magical artifact, and the price is justified."

"Is that so?" Abby's eyes narrowed.

"What about the security measures? Have you scanned the enchantments?"

"We ran a spell scanner over it multiple times. Both our older model and the new one. Nothing came up. The security is flawless."

"Flawless?" Abby's expression darkened. "Which security company handled this?"

Peter hesitated for a moment. "Apparently, it's their own proprietary security system. Dumaire Workshop handles everything internally."

"Really? Since when has Runewright been capable of something like that?"

"They recently hired a new mage. Word is that this mage is on an entirely different level."

"Hmph." Abby leaned forward, raising a hand.

A surge of mana flowed from his fingertips as he inspected the shield with his own magic. However, it was as though he had struck an invisible wall—he could sense nothing beyond the shield's surface. His scowl deepened.

"What about performance? Have you tested it?"

"Yes. It's exceptional. Good enough that the city government has reportedly taken an interest. They may be planning to supply these to their military."

Abby's eyes gleamed with newfound intrigue. "It's compact enough to be carried with one hand. Efficient design," he muttered. His mind churned with possibilities. If the government saw value in this artifact, it could tip the balance of power.

Abby turned his gaze to Peter. "We need to crack the enchantment formula. Extract the spell patterns. Can you handle that?"

"We're already on it," Peter replied confidently.

"Everyone has a price, after all. It's only a matter of time before we find someone willing to cooperate."

"Good. You know what's at stake. The deadline is before the government makes any official moves. Understand?"

A crooked smile spread across Peter's lips. "Of course. The city government won't have a choice—they'll sign a contract with us. We'll control the distribution."

Abby gave a slow nod, satisfied. His gaze returned to the shield, his mind already strategizing. This was more than just a powerful artifact—it was leverage.

A tool that could expand his influence across both the legal and underground networks.

Meanwhile, at Runewright Workshop, Gin listened as Walter expressed his concerns about security.

"The enchantment patterns are so well-protected that even if someone manages to steal the full design, any shields they produce will have critical flaws," Gin explained calmly. "The security measures will eventually cause their mana stones to explode if tampered with."

Walter's eyes widened in horror. "Explode? That would be disastrous!"

"Exactly. So, don't skip the final assembly process I showed you.

That step is the key safeguard."

"I had no idea," Walteri muttered, shaking his head. He had followed Gin's instructions out of trust but had always wondered about the necessity of that final enchantment step. Now, the weight of its importance hit him like a blow.

"You must maintain the procedure without fail. If someone bypasses it, the entire shield will become unstable under pressure."

"I'll ensure it's done properly from now on," Walter vowed.

Satisfied, Gin glanced around the office. In one corner, a coffee machine gleamed under the light.

"Ah, I see you have a coffee machine," Ban remarked with a faint smile.

Walter's expression turned sheepish. "I bought it after being captivated by the coffee you made last time. I even got the same model… but it's little more than a decoration now."

Gin chuckled. "That coffee was made with a special recipe. It's not something just anyone can brew. I'll make you another cup when I have time."

Hope and excitement lit up Walter's face.

"I'll be looking forward to that day!"

For a moment, he considered asking Gin to stay and brew coffee regularly.

The cup he had tasted before had been so extraordinary that no other coffee since had come close.

But he knew better than to make such a frivolous request.

"That's all for today," Gin said, rising from his seat. "If any issues arise, gather the details and let me know. I'll come back to address them."

With that, Gin left the workshop, his thoughts briefly wandering to the idea of finding a permanent residence in the hidden world.

As he walked, he felt the weight of unseen eyes—forces moving behind the scenes, waiting for the right moment to strike. But Gin was not one to wait idly. He would be ready for whatever came next.

The storm stirred by the Runewright Workshop's shield was fierce and relentless.

Priced at an impressive 1.5 billion gel, the shield stood on the higher end of the market for workshop-crafted magical artifacts.

While legendary artifacts, often worth tens of billions, were beyond reach even for those with limitless wealth, workshop-made artifacts occupied a different niche altogether.

They were practical, attainable tools—functional but rarely monumental in their magical potency.

Most workshops didn't aim to create fully realized artifacts but instead specialized in crafting components—small, essential parts that powered magical mechanisms much like gears in a machine.

These components found their way into a wide range of magical technology: automobiles, electronic devices, mechanical constructs, and more.

Though each individual piece didn't command an exorbitant price, their importance and rarity made them far more valuable than ordinary mechanical parts.

However, to achieve sustained profit from component manufacturing, workshops relied on mass production—a strategy that most prioritized. In contrast, a workshop like Runewright, which focused on crafting full-fledged magical artifacts, was a rare anomaly.

Their recent success in creating a highly coveted and premium shield was an exception to the industry's norms.

Now, with demand surging and supply limited, Runewright found itself at the epicenter of an economic storm.