A few days later, the collection of ingredients resumed.
However, there was one thing that was different, it was the junior disciples instead of the intermediate disciples who were assigned for the job.
The reason for that was the improvement in the efficiency of production, responsibility improvement, and training for junior disciples by expanding their duties.
But the junior disciples knew that it was nothing but an empty excuse.
They know that the burden of collecting ingredients was handed over to the junior disciples in order to save the lives of the relatively valuable intermediate disciples.
They felt like if they were going to replace the duties, they should have at least told the truth.
However, there was nothing the junior disciples could do just because they knew what was going on inside.
In the world of Warlock, if the superiors gave an order, it should be followed, not questioned.
They had to just bow down their heads to express their gratitude for the increase in missions, and for the chance to practice how to extract emotions.
But there was one exception, Oliver, who was glad that he could practice more black magic.
SHOOOWWUU
"It's over."
Oliver said while closing the test tube that contained the Life-force.
He handed over the test tube to Peter, who put the tubes into his bag, took a few round bundles of money from a sling bag, and gave them to a man with gold teeth and sunglasses.
The man who called himself a loan shark laughed with an eerie smile, then took out a couple of bundles of money as a commission, and then handed three or four bills to the person whose Life-force was drained.
"Let's go."
"Huh. Goodbye, I hope to see you again next time."
Peter felt uncomfortable at the attitude of the loan shark, so he took Oliver and hurriedly paced his steps.
After they left the shabby building and walked for some time, Peter sighed and looked through the list.
"Ha.... Oh no."
"What's wrong?"
"After eating in the morning, we've started doing the work, and we've been running around the clock all day, but still, I don't see a way to reduce the workload."
Oliver and Peter had a workload that was several times more than that of other junior disciples.
The reason for this was, except for Oliver, there were no junior disciples who were able to extract Life-force.
Oliver was okay because the work itself was fun, but it was never okay for his sidekick, Peter.
Not long ago, he saw two junior disciples drenched in blood after getting attacked by the raiders.
He felt very uneasy.
The range of movement was wide, so there was a high possibility of being attacked.
Above all… his stomach was growling.
Peter checked the time when he felt his stomach growling.
It was 1:20 p.m.
He missed lunchtime because he was working.
Peter took Oliver out of the back alley and into the main street.
The once crowded streets were noticeably less crowded, more than half of the buildings were empty, and the house with boards on the windows filled the street.
Still, there was one thing that didn't change, the hot dog booth in the square was still there.
"Wait a minute,"
Peter told Oliver and went to the hot dog booth.
After a while, he came back with a hot dog with mustard and pickles on it.
"Have one of these,"
Oliver ate as Peter said, while Peter filled his stomach with hot dogs.
While eating, there was no conversation between the two, but Peter looked at Oliver, who was silent, and thought that geniuses were supposed to be like this.
He came in as an informal disciple and became a formal disciple in less than 10 days, easily surpassing him who had been here for several years.
However, what bothered him the most was that he didn't know what was going on inside Oliver's head.
Appearing gloomy and sometimes even stupid, he usually seemed like any other informal disciple, but he was odd at times, which makes even a junior disciple like him shiver.
His ability can surpass intermediate disciples, and even Andrew's man Rasso was nervous around him.
Suddenly he remembered the astonished Rasso's face when Oliver pulled out the Life-force.
It was impressive because he always kept his poker face.
Peter felt that maybe it was a conspiracy that Oliver took this job, expecting him to meet the attackers and misfortunately die.
It was nothing big of a shock.
It was the law of the Warlock world – to cut off the buds that might threaten their place.
That's also the reason why Peter's been the Room Leader for a long time.
But despite his efforts, now getting involved with Oliver might put his life in danger.
If Oliver was really pushed into this job with the intention of getting him killed, then Peter might die as a bonus… yes, as a bonus.
He felt frustrated because until a few days back, his life was smooth but now it felt like a ship that is getting swept away by the waves.
"What is that?"
While Peter was in deep thought Oliver asked suddenly, pointing in one direction with a childlike innocent, stupid face, where workers were protesting in shabby clothes, dragging out their worn-out shoes.
"Moving factories is death!"
"It's death!"
"It's death!"
"Give us our job!"
"Our job!"
"Our job!"
"Our job!"
The protest by the 40-50-year-old workers seemed somewhat sad and difficult, but Peter frowned and shook his head.
"Do you remember what Senior Rasso said a few days ago?"
"Which one?"
"...The city factories are moving to Landa."
"Yes."
"They are protesting not to do that since they will lose their job."
Oliver nodded indifferently as if he really understood.
The appearance made Peter uncomfortable because he didn't know what Oliver was thinking.
"… Then, can't they just go to Landa? Looking for a job?"
Peter opened his mouth after an unusual silence.
"It's not that easy."
"Is it?"
"Yes, it is. First of all, it's not easy to leave your home for some people, and even if they did leave, going to Landa doesn't really make things better."
"…Can you explain it in detail?"
Peter thought for a moment, about whether to tell him or not, but it was not easy to refuse while looking at the curious expression on Oliver's face.
Eventually, he opened his mouth thinking he was crazy.
"Landa used to be a growing city, but now it's growing faster. It's like a monster, so the map changes every day. A monster that eats the surrounding cities, towns, and fishing villages. Do you think people who get eaten by such monsters will be happy?"
"No."
"That's right, 12 hours a day is a given, and sometimes they are made to work 18 hours a day. The kids are no different, but the money they give isn't good enough to fill even a rat's stomach, while most of the money is stolen in the name of rent. They will be squeezed from everywhere."
"How did you know?"
"I've lived there," said Peter, even though he didn't want to say it.
"I originally lived in a small fishing village above Landa, and eventually got kicked out when a fishing factory came in. Our whole family went to Landa to find a job, and that's when hell began."
Peter's eyes suddenly darkened when he recalled that time – the poverty and the suffering.
"Then did you follow the master and come here?"
Peter's eyebrows wriggled.
It wasn't because he felt bad about Oliver interrupting him, it was because he was amazed by the boy who did not feel any empathy even after listening to his story.
"Huh…? Yes. Master was looking for a talented child… He offered us money that we couldn't refuse, and eventually I got handed over to the master, but don't get me wrong, I'm glad that I'm here. Life is much better, and there is hope. If I learn black magic here, I will be able to run my own business someday."
What Peter said at the end was a lie.
He once dreamed of becoming independent as a black wizard, but now it's all in the past.
The reason is none other than internal competition.
Competition in the Warlock family was more intense and shady than he imagined, especially because of the faction that centered around Andrew, the family's second-in-command, and it was virtually impossible to get promoted.
Realizing this, Peter effectively gave up his dream.
Now he just wanted to spend his days in peace – like not getting food poisoned.
Peter suddenly became disgusted, maybe because of the dislike of this situation, or perhaps at him getting swayed around doing nothing.
"Let's get back to work now,"
Peter said, returning to work to dispel the depression.
Peter entered a multi-family house with Oliver and solved the rent issue of those who were behind in rent, by taking away their Life-force.
Next, he went to the underground office of a small private loan shark to solve the debts of the debtors by extracting the Life-force.
While working around constantly like that, Oliver talked to Peter once again.
"Sir, can I ask you about something I'm curious about?"
Once again Peter didn't want to answer, but he was still afraid of Oliver, so Peter asked Oliver what he was curious about.
But to Peter's surprise, a more shocking question came up than what he thought.
"Am I in danger?"
Peter's foot stopped in the dark back alley.
"What's that?"
"Someone told me that I'll be in danger if I show too much talent. Is that right?"
Peter couldn't open his mouth.
The reason was that he didn't know what to answer.
Peter thought to himself whether he should answer the question, or Should he say, he doesn't know, Or Should he lie saying he's safe.
When he thoughts of the usual Oliver, with his stupid appearance, he thought it would be okay if he lied, but he couldn't answer easily when he thought of a sharp Oliver who sometimes shows his face.
'What if he responds badly, and then takes out his anger on me?'
'I don't think I can win.'
As he was thinking Oliver suddenly approached as if he had lost all his patience.
Peter raised his hand in bewilderment to calm him down, but Oliver did not care and grabbed Peter by the shoulder.
Although there was not much strength in the grabbed hands, Peter could not resist because he had already lost his balance, and Peter, who was dragged backward like that, was stuck between a huge trash can and a protruding cement wall.
"Wait, hold on…"
Oliver opened the lid of the test tube without listening to Peter.
The word death flashed in Peter's head.
He couldn't believe that he was going to die without being able to do anything.
At that time, Oliver extracted his emotions and chanted.
[Double Black shield]
Two Black shields spread out on the front and back.
And soon Gunshots rang out.
BANG—! BANG————!
The sound from the gun felt familiar.
It was the sound of a shotgun, a sound that was often heard in the slums.
It's also a modified shotgun, which is mainly used in gang protests.
"Is this an attack?"
"…uh!"
Peter exclaimed embarrassingly.
As soon as he answered, Oliver condensed the black shield in the back and shot at the attacker.
[Hate Bullet]
A crashing sound was heard.
Peter poked out his face and saw the masked attacker.
Although he could not see his face, he could see that he was confused.
Peter shouted involuntarily.
"We have to catch him. Alive!"
The attacker began to flee hearing the words.
As he was about to go into the alley, Oliver blocked his way and shot Hate Bullet.
BANG!
QUACK!
"Oh, f*ck!"
A bewildered swearing could be heard from behind the mask.
"Should I catch him alive?"
"Yeah! Alive!"
"Alive…"
Oliver mumbled as he extracted the emotions from the test tube and began to fiddle.
However, the attacker did not stay still, he, who had no place to escape, pulled a scroll out of his arms.
Peter knew instinctively what that action meant.
The attacker is going to use the teleport scroll to get away
"Damn it…!"
"It's late. Goodby...Huh?"
Just as the attacker was about to use the scroll something came rushing toward him and disabled him from moving.
It was a Black magic from Oliver, a Black magic that Peter had never seen in his life.
From its appearance, it looked like a spider web.
It is a spider web that flies like a net and holds people tightly.
"Oh, this works?"
Oliver said as if it was nothing.
Peter looked up at Oliver with surprise and asked.
"What's that…?"
"It's called Cling Web."