Dark Warlock in the Apocalypse

In the inventory, two new items had appeared. Justin carefully examined them. One was an ebony staff, carved into a blunt diamond shape, while the other was a robe dyed entirely in a dark color.

As he focused on each item, their descriptions floated before his eyes:

"Apprentice's Staff"

Category: Warlock Exclusive Equipment

Grade: Common

Details: A staff for an apprentice who has just stepped onto the path of dark magic. When equipped, it replaces 5 uses of projectile-type dark magic. It automatically recharges at a rate of one use per hour.

"Apprentice's Robe"

Category: Warlock Exclusive Equipment

Grade: Common

Details: A robe for an apprentice on the path of dark magic. When equipped, it doubles the absorption speed of Energy Drain.

Justin's lips curved into a smile. "Perfect."

The gear itself wasn't anything spectacular; they were clearly beginner-level items. But to Justin, what mattered was that they compensated for his weaknesses perfectly.

'The biggest problem for a beginner mage is the number of spell uses and recharge speed.'

The staff provided five extra uses for spells—a precious buffer that could make a life-or-death difference in critical situations. Meanwhile, the robe solved another major problem: it doubled the absorption speed of Energy Drain. Faster absorption during combat could be the difference between victory and defeat.

It was clear that these items were, as their names suggested, made specifically to support beginners like himself.

"Not bad at all," he thought aloud.

Beside him, Ethan Cooper was also grinning as he looked through his inventory, clearly satisfied with what he found.

"Got something good?" Justin asked, curious.

Ethan nodded excitedly. "Yeah! I got a sword and a shield. The sword doubles my low-tier healing effect!"

"Oh, that's quite useful," Justin replied.

Low-tier healing might not sound impressive, but in a world like this, where medical supplies and doctors were scarce, it could be the difference between life and death. Even a slight boost in healing could prevent infections and save someone's life.

"And what about the shield?" Justin continued.

"Well, it doesn't have any special abilities. But still, having a shield is better than nothing!" Ethan laughed.

Justin nodded in agreement. Shields, after all, had intrinsic value. They offered a significant defensive advantage—enough to make or break a fight. In close combat, the one holding a shield almost always had the upper hand.

"Honestly, this is way better than I expected," Ethan added. "I didn't think beginner gear would be this good."

"Me neither," Justin said, still examining his new equipment. "This quest reward is really going to widen the gap between survivors who completed it and those who didn't."

"And we're going to be on the winning side," Ethan said, and they exchanged a smile.

They were just about to equip their new gear when a sudden voice echoed through the group of rescued survivors.

"What's the meaning of this!?"

"Are you telling us we have to live in these conditions?!"

Justin frowned and moved toward the source of the commotion, wanting to understand the situation better.

"What's going on here?" he asked, his voice carrying authority.

Seeing Justin in his black robe, the crowd flinched slightly. His aura had shifted from when they first met; perhaps it was the new equipment, or perhaps it was the confidence he exuded now. Still, someone managed to explain the situation.

"Perfect timing. The thing is…"

...

"So, what you're saying is... you don't like the houses assigned to you?" Justin repeated, incredulous.

"Exactly!" one of the survivors declared.

Justin couldn't help but let out a laugh. He understood why they were complaining—nobody wanted to live in a collapsing medieval shack. These people had been used to living in proper houses until just recently. He wouldn't want to stay in those shacks either. But given the current situation…

'It's absurd to complain about housing under these circumstances,' Justin thought. Monsters were appearing, people were being killed, and all communication with the outside world had been severed. They had no guarantee they'd be alive tomorrow, yet here they were, complaining about accommodations.

'Maybe they're spoiled, or maybe they're just too naive to understand.'

Justin took a deep breath, and before he could say anything, one of the survivors tried to negotiate further.

"At least give us those better houses. These are too harsh to live in," the man said, pointing towards the Roman-style houses that the earlier survivors, including Justin, had chosen.

Justin clicked his tongue lightly before responding. "Those are off-limits. They already have owners."

"Owners?" the man asked, confused.

"Yes, survivors who arrived earlier. Including myself," Justin said firmly.

"Can't you make an exception? You're just one person, after all," the man argued.

Justin almost laughed at the absurdity. "What does me being alone have anything to do with it? And why should I give up my place for you?"

Before he could lose his temper, someone else spoke up—this time, the high-school-aged boy who had first called for help.

"Dad, just pick a place and move in. Stop arguing," the boy said, exasperated.

"You stay out of this. We don't know how long we'll be stuck here, and I won't settle for something like that," the father retorted.

"The quest clearly stated to choose a house among these. We can't take one that already belongs to someone," the boy insisted.

"That quest again! Are you just going to follow whatever it says forever?" the father snapped.

The fact that the quickest to understand the situation was the high-schooler and not the adults almost made Justin laugh out loud. It seemed that of all these people, the kid had the best grasp of their current predicament.

And if these people had received the quest but still desired someone else's house, they clearly hadn't learned anything from their previous mistakes.

Justin's expression turned cold, and he spoke up so everyone could hear.

"I've heard your complaints, everyone," he said, raising his voice.

"So, are you willing to help us?" someone asked, hopeful.

"No. I can't give you those houses, nor do I know how to take them away from their rightful owners. However, I do understand that forcing you to stay in such conditions would be irresponsible."

"Exactly! That's what we're saying!" another voice chimed in, thinking they had swayed Justin.

"Which is why I've thought of an alternative solution," Justin continued, his tone sharper.

The crowd waited in anticipation.

"I'll take you back!" Justin shouted.

"...What?"

"Just as I said. I'll personally escort you back!"

The people were stunned, unable to react. They had hoped for an alternative solution, but what they received was the cold, hard reality of their situation.

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