Isekai Murim In The Apocalypse

The old man peered down at the lone copper coin in his palm before shifting his gaze back up to Aziel. His eyes, sharp despite his frail appearance, held an air of quiet amusement.

"What would you like to know, boy?" he asked, his voice gravelly with age.

Aziel crossed his arms. "Where am I? And are there any gates here that can send people back to where they came from?"

The old man continued to study him, stroking his wiry beard as if contemplating something far beyond the question itself. "Did you hit your head playing with other kids, boy?"

Aziel's brow twitched. "Just answer the question, old man. I don't have time for this."

The elder hummed thoughtfully. "You're in Twilight City, the capital. As for your other question… I wouldn't know how to answer that."

Twilight City? Aziel frowned.

'I've never heard of a place called that. If this is the capital, then where the hell am I? That gate… did it transport me somewhere outside of London?'

His jaw clenched as a cold realization slithered down his spine. "Alright then, how far is this place from the Central London Ruins? And which direction do I need to go to get there?"

The old man's fingers idly combed through his beard once more. "Central London Ruins?" he echoed. "Never heard of it."

Aziel's stomach tightened. 'He doesn't know London? Have I been sent to another country? No… something's not right.'

He exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. "Fine. Then tell me—what country and continent is this?"

"The country of Twixian, in the Divine Continent," the old man answered without hesitation.

Aziel's breath hitched. 'Twixian? Divine Continent? That's… impossible. There are only seven continents, and none of them have those names.'

A creeping unease took hold, wrapping itself around him like an iron grip. The more questions he asked, the less the answers made sense.

The old man watched him intently, the curiosity in his eyes unmistakable. "You're an odd one, boy. You look as if you grew up here, yet you don't know something so basic?"

"I didn't pay you to ask me questions, old man—"

"And where, might I ask, did you acquire this pouch?"

Aziel's eyes snapped downward. His hands were empty.

'When did he—?!'

His head jerked back up, and sure enough, the old man was now holding the small pouch Aziel had stolen earlier, dangling it between two fingers. Before Aziel could react, the pouch vanished into the man's tattered robe.

"Oi, old man. Give that back," Aziel growled.

"Why should I?" The elder's lips curled into a grin. "It was never yours to begin with, was it? If you want it back, why don't you take it from me?"

Aziel's fists clenched. The old man was just skin and bones—frail, seemingly weak. Even as a scrawny kid himself, Aziel could easily snatch it back.

Or so he thought.

His instincts screamed at him. Something was wrong.

The old man's grin never wavered, yet an invisible pressure filled the air between them. Was he hiding a weapon? Or was it something far worse?

Aziel took a step back, clicking his tongue. "Tsk. Fine, keep it. I'll just find another one."

He turned to leave, but the old man's voice halted him. "Wait."

Aziel exhaled through his nose, irritated, and glanced over his shoulder. "What? I already let you keep it. I'm in a hurry."

"You." The old man leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes locking onto Aziel's. "What do you think about becoming my student?"

Aziel blinked. "Huh?"

"You have no proper training in martial arts, yet you intrigue me," the elder mused. "I'm offering to teach you."

Aziel stared at him as if he had lost his mind. Train under a ragged old man who looked like he couldn't even afford a meal? The idea was absurd.

It reminded him too much of his last encounter with a certain shady merchant. Every part of him screamed that this was a terrible idea. More importantly, he had to find his way back to his sister. There was only one answer he could give.

"Hell n—"

[You have unlocked a quest: 'The Homeless Man's Trial...']

[Would you like to accept? (Y/N)]

Aziel froze.

A glowing blue rectangle hovered in front of him, its text standing out against the air itself. His pulse spiked.

"The hell?! What is this?!" His hand shot up instinctively to touch it, but his fingers passed right through.

The old man remained unbothered, stroking his beard once more. "So, what is your answer? Will you become my disciple?"

Aziel whipped his head toward him. "Oi, old man. You don't see this? The glowing blue screen?"

The elder followed the direction of Aziel's pointing finger, then shook his head. "I see nothing."

Aziel's stomach churned. His expression was too calm—too genuine. If he wasn't lying, that meant Aziel was the only one who could see it.

'A system message…? No, it's in English. And it's calling this a quest…'

The old man straightened. "I will take your silence as agreement. Very well." His eyes gleamed. "To prove your worth, I will give you a trial. Collect ten pouches from ten different individuals before the midnight bell tolls, using the same method you used before. Succeed, and I shall take you as my disciple."

Aziel's face twisted in disbelief. "Who the hell would say 'yes' to that?!"

[Quest 'The Homeless Man's Trial' has been accepted.]

Aziel's breath hitched. "Wait, what?"

Another notification appeared before his eyes, confirming the quest.

[Quest: The Homeless Man's Trial]

[Quest Objective: Acquire ten pouches from ten different individuals before the midnight bell tolls.]

[Progress: 0/10 pouches obtained]

Aziel's eye twitched. His fists clenched at his sides, frustration boiling over as realization dawned.

"You've got to be kidding me…"