Merchant of The Universe

Ethan Shaw had seen plenty of strange things in his life—city lights flickering in odd rhythms, cats staring at empty spaces, and the occasional déjà vu so strong it made him question reality. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for the door.

It was an ordinary night. The kind where exhaustion clung to his bones, and the dull ache of an empty stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since noon. He had spent the day stacking books in a tiny secondhand bookstore, arguing with customers who thought "rare" meant "cheap," and dodging calls from his landlord.

And yet, as he walked down the familiar alley toward his apartment, he stopped.

There, standing in the middle of the narrow passage, was a door that shouldn't exist.

It had no building to be attached to, no walls supporting it. Just a freestanding wooden frame, tall and ornate, carved from deep mahogany with swirling silver engravings that seemed to shift when he wasn't looking directly at them.

Ethan blinked. This wasn't here yesterday.

He glanced around. The alley was as empty as ever. No pranksters, no hidden cameras. Just the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp overhead and the distant hum of the city beyond.

Curiosity wrestled with common sense. Weird door in an alley? Obvious trap.

But there was something… magnetic about it. The way the wood gleamed under the light. The way the air around it seemed just a little too still. The way his fingers itched to touch the silver handle.

His instincts screamed at him to walk away.

He reached out anyway.

The moment his fingers brushed against the handle, a sharp click echoed through the alley. The door swung open—on its own.

And the world changed.

Ethan stumbled forward, his breath catching in his throat as the city vanished behind him. Instead of the grimy alley, he now stood in the middle of a vast, dimly lit hall. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, lost in swirling shadows. Walls lined with shelves towered on either side, filled with items that defied logic—a floating crystal pulsating with golden light, a dagger humming with unseen power, a glass bottle labeled "Bottled Moonlight – One Sip Only".

The air smelled of old parchment, rare spices, and something faintly electric.

At the center of the hall, behind a long wooden counter, sat a glowing, floating sign. Letters formed out of golden light, shifting like ink suspended in water.

[WELCOME, NEW PROPRIETOR.]

Ethan's pulse pounded in his ears. "What the hell…"

The sign shimmered.

[Confirming identity…]

A soft hum filled the air. Ethan stepped back. The shelves trembled slightly, as if the entire room had come alive.

Then, the sign changed.

[Owner recognized: Ethan Shaw.]

[The Multiversal Merchant System is now active.]

A sharp chime rang through the air. Ethan flinched. Something cold sank into his mind—not painful, but intrusive. A flood of information poured into his brain, as if invisible hands were sifting through his thoughts.

The shop. The system. The rules.

Ethan staggered, gripping the counter for support as the knowledge settled.

This wasn't just a shop. It was a pocket dimension, a traveling store that could appear in different worlds. The shelves were stocked with items from across realities, from enchanted relics to futuristic technology. And he—an exhausted, broke bookstore clerk—was now its owner.

"…This has to be a dream," Ethan muttered.

He looked toward the entrance. The door stood there, still open, showing the dark alley outside. A way back. A way to pretend this never happened.

But before he could move, something knocked.

A soft, deliberate sound.

Ethan turned. His breath hitched.

Beyond the threshold of the shop, standing just outside the doorway, was something that wasn't human.

And it was waiting to come in.