Dark Warlock in the Apocalypse

As the surrounding scenery twisted, Justin rubbed his eyes, thinking he might be seeing things out of exhaustion.

However, what was happening around him wasn't an illusion or a hallucination.

'The entire space is actually distorting.'

The swirling space scraped away the asphalt and terrain around them, as if some powerful force were tearing it apart.

"What's happening this time?!"

"L-look at the sky! It's strange!"

"God, please help us!"

The scene wasn't visible only to Justin; screams were erupting from all directions. The survivors' mental endurance had reached its limit after everything they had been through in just one night.

When the entire area began to warp, the people fell into chaos. Fortunately, the screams and cries didn't last long.

"Coordinates fixed. Dimensional transfer complete."

"Welcome, all Earthlings, to a new continent, a new dimension."

"Rebuild human civilization here and thrive in this new world."

"We shall assist you until the day civilization is restored."

With the series of system messages, the warped space gradually returned to its original state, but only the distortion disappeared.

The landscape around them was completely different now.

"A… forest?"

One of the survivors muttered blankly, looking around.

Indeed, the place they had been transferred to was a forest in broad daylight.

The cement and skyscrapers that had surrounded them were nowhere to be found, replaced by trees, grass, and the sound of chirping birds.

The early survivors, who were the first to regain their composure, looked at one another.

"Goodness, has the entire village moved into the middle of a forest?"

"Before that, where are we? Is there even a place like this in the US?"

"This isn't the US. Such a forest couldn't exist due to the climate."

"Then, like the system said, are we in another dimension? Not on Earth?"

The muttering of one or two people quickly turned into a heated discussion. Though bewildered, the survivors tried to make sense of the situation.

Even after just one night, they realized deeply that those who didn't adapt quickly would only be left behind.

Unlike the early survivors, however, those who had been rescued struggled to maintain their composure.

"Dad, where are we? What happened to our house?"

"It'll be okay… Everything will be okay...!"

"Everyone, get a hold of yourselves! They say that even if you're being dragged by a tiger…"

"Quiet! Let us think for a moment!"

The rescued individuals were in chaos, speaking out of confusion. The most composed among them were merely those trying to suppress their shock.

However, the majority were either terrified, dazed, or lost in denial, unable to come to terms with the changed circumstances.

'Is this the difference between those who actively pursued quests and those who didn't?'

As Justin observed the contrasting reactions of the two groups, Ethan approached him after dispersing earlier following the quest.

"Justin, do you have any idea what just happened?"

"Not really."

To be honest, Justin was just as caught off guard and had no real answers. Who could have predicted that an entire village would be transported into the middle of a forest?

Even in World Rebuild, nothing like this had ever happened.

"I don't understand the situation either, but there's one thing I'm sure of."

"...?"

"The system always provides direction."

Even after just one night, Justin could say this with confidence. Throwing people into the open sea and expecting them to fend for themselves was not the system's way.

The system provided quests to guide users toward growth, and while some might find it suspicious, to Justin, it seemed like a measure to prevent aimless wandering.

"Right now, we don't know what we should be doing. The quests have disappeared, and we're in a foreign place. Our objective is gone."

"And if the objective is gone, the system will soon provide another direction…?"

"That's just my guess."

Justin shrugged lightly, as if it was nothing.

Just as their conversation reached a brief lull, a cheerful voice rang out in the middle of the village.

"Greetings, pioneers!"

Characters that were not players, but were created solely for the convenience of the players. In other words, they were deeply connected to the system.

"Exactly. However, I... truly despise the term NPC. If possible, call me by my name. You may even call me 'tradesman' or 'money grubber' if you wish!"

Hearing those words, Justin gave a wry smile.

How much must he hate being called an NPC?

While everyone remained silent, one man jumped out in front of Algrim.

"Alright then, tradesman! I've got a question!"

"What would you like to ask?"

Even being called a "tradesman" didn't change Algrim's expression. It seemed he really didn't care what he was called as long as it wasn't an NPC.

"What on earth is happening here? What's this status window about, and what's with the quests? And who's sending these messages?"

Questions everyone was dying to know the answers to.

However, Algrim scratched his cheek, looking troubled.

"I'm afraid I cannot answer those questions."

"What? Are you kidding me!?"

"Whoa, calm down. I assure you, I'm not trying to mock you. Nor am I deliberately hiding anything."

Algrim showed the agitated survivor his neck, fidgeting as though he were stroking an invisible collar.

"I am under certain restrictions. There are limits to what I can tell you. Any information beyond those limits is entirely off-limits for me to communicate."

"Is there a bomb inside your throat or something? Does it explode and take your head off if you say too much?"

"Not exactly. It's more like my tongue freezes when I attempt to say anything I'm not allowed to. Trying to convey it in another way doesn't work either."

Despite the sarcastic remark, Algrim shrugged with a smile, a gesture that seemed to say, "There's nothing I can do."

"My role is only that of a tradesman. I can help you buy, sell, and explain the uses of items, but I cannot answer any other questions."

The survivors processed Algrim's words in their heads. After a while, one man muttered as if summarizing it.

"So you can't explain the current situation, and you're only here to open up a shop window like in a game?"

"Precisely!"

"Damn it…!"

A survivor gritted his teeth in frustration, but that was all he could do.

In the safe zone, combat actions were completely prohibited. Even attempting to attack Algrim would be automatically blocked by the system.

Throwing a tantrum would only end in embarrassment, so all he could do was swallow his anger.

Just then, someone who had been silently listening stepped forward. It was one of the people Justin had rescued the previous night.

"You said you're a tradesman. So what exactly are you selling?"

"Good question! I am selling…!"

Algrim was excited as he began to speak, but he quickly froze. He then glanced at the person who asked and his expression contorted.

"What's this? You're not even a pioneer, just a bottom-tier layman, and you dare speak to me?"

"Huh? W-what?"

"What I sell is none of your business! I'm in the middle of explaining things to the pioneers, so don't bother me! Go away!" He spat on the ground in disgust.

The people around widened their eyes in shock. The once-friendly tradesman had vanished without a trace.

The drastic change in attitude caught everyone off guard, and before anyone could react, Justin stepped in.

"Algrim. I've got a question too."

"Yes, sir, Pioneer! What would you like to know?"

Algrim immediately turned to Justin, rubbing his hands together with a servile smile. The contempt that had filled his face was now replaced with a groveling grin.

'As I thought.'

This reaction alone allowed Justin to mostly understand the reason for the change in attitude. To confirm it further and make it clear to everyone, he asked the next question on purpose.

"You call some people pioneers and others laymen. What's the criteria for distinguishing between them?"

"There is a clear criterion!"

Algrim pounded his chest confidently as he exclaimed.

"Those who fight without reservation are pioneers. Those parasites who do nothing and merely seek protection are laymen. You can tell easily by looking at the levels."

"...!"

"And the Curse of Sloth? That's a curse reserved for the lowest of laymen—vermin among vermin! Who would respect such a person?"

Algrim shouted, as if ensuring everyone could hear. People froze at his words.