I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra

Chapter 314

I didn’t even know how long I’d been asleep, minutes or hours but the system window kept aggressively nudging itself into my vision like an overeager notification that refused to be ignored.

[Messenger Request Alert!]

The words pulsed insistently.

[Player Trickster has invited you to join the group chat]

[Would you like to accept or decline?]

With one eye still stubbornly shut and my brain operating at about ten percent capacity, I lazily flicked my finger toward accept.

Bad decisions were kind of my brand.

[Player UnluckyExtra has joined the group chat]

Almost immediately, messages began popping up one after another, floating neatly in front of me like a very familiar chat interface.

Trickster: Hey rookie! Can you see this? It’s just the same like the UsChat app!

I squinted harder, my vision slowly focusing. "...Wow," I muttered. "They really just reskinned a messaging app and called it interdimensional tech."

Another message appeared, significantly less readable.

Ironclad Fists: Hoe eberybpdy?

I stared at it in silence.

Trickster: LOLOL what are you typing?

Ironclad Fists: Dis dam screen s 2 smol. Weyt ur nxt 2 me so y do I even nid 2 chat?

Trickster: LOLOLOL is that how your generation types?

I snorted despite myself, rubbing at my eyes as I finally pushed myself up into a sitting position. The blanket slid down to my waist as the room’s dim light adjusted automatically—apparently even the lighting system knew I was not a morning person.

Before I could fully process the chaos, another notification slid in smoothly.

[Player Boss has joined the group chat]

Trickster: Oi Boss glad for you to join us!

Boss: (like emoji)

I exhaled slowly, then waved my hand. A translucent, holographic keyboard immediately materialized in front of me, keys glowing faintly blue.

"...Hey system—" I paused, then frowned. "Actually, wait. I’ll just change your name to Admin from now on."

[Much better.]

"Good. So, Admin," I said lazily, stretching my arms over my head, "don’t you have, like... voice chat? Or auto-typing? Or literally anything that doesn’t involve me pecking at floating air like an idiot?"

[Type it yourself.]

I stared at the text, unimpressed. "Wow. What kind of admin runs a multi-world death game and doesn’t even include voice input?"

[Do you want me to remove the keyboard?]

My spine straightened instantly.

I smiled. Brightly. Politely. With my entire soul."Nope. Not at all. I take it back. You have the most advanced technology I’ve ever seen."

[...]

The keyboard remained.

"Good talk," I muttered.

I finally focused back on the chat, fingers hovering over the glowing keys. After a brief pause, I typed.

UnluckyExtra: What’s everyone doing?

The chat window blinked almost immediately after my message sent, lines stacking faster than my half-awake brain could comfortably process.

Trickster: Oh! Sleeping beauty’s finally awake.

Ironclad Fists: Bout damn time. U die or sumthin?

Boss: (coffee emoji) (eye emoji)

I rubbed my face with one hand, blinking hard as if that would somehow sharpen my thoughts.

UnluckyExtra: I was resting. Unlike some people who apparently learned how to type by headbutting the keyboard.

Ironclad Fists: Hey! Dis took skill. Respect it.

Trickster: Respectfully, no.

Boss: (laughing emoji)

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Meanwhile, the Open World Chat was nothing short of a battlefield.

Messages flooded in so fast they overlapped, names flashing, notifications chiming nonstop like a marketplace at peak hours.

KFChampion: Is there anyone willing to trade my Fire Axe for a Thunder Sword?

~ MemeLordX: Check the Auction House. Just search my name.

~ KFChampion: Eyyy you know they charge insane fees.

HILFMunter: Looking for a partner to clear the next platform. Preferably someone who can tank.

Lagzilla: Looking for duo. Any role. Just don’t abandon me mid-run.

NoobMaster3000: Will the next stage be difficult? Anyone know the mechanics yet???

PewPewPro: @everyone heads up—there’s a player who earned 50,500 GP previous stage.

For half a second, the chat froze.

Then it exploded.

~ EpicFailer: Da fuck??? You trolling?

~ MrClean: Stop lying. That stage was hell. You get robbed just walking down the street.

~ GlocoGoLoco: No way. I barely scraped 10,000 GP and I almost lost my mind.

~ Phoenix: 50k? That’s not grinding—that’s exploiting.

~ Lagzilla: Screenshot or fake.

~ PewPewPro: It’s confirmed. Anyone who cleared the stage can see the ranking.

~ KFChampion: Who the hell was it then???

~ PewPewPro: Player name’s UnluckyExtra.

The name rippled through the chat like a dropped stone in water.

~ TheGuardian: UnluckyExtra?

~ MemeLordX: Never heard of them.

~ MrClean: Sounds like a burner account.

~ PewPewPro: People are guessing they’re either Infinite Horizon or a member of the GHA.

~ EpicFailer: Those freaks again...

~ HILFMunter: If they’re the Alliance, that explains it. They always move in groups.

~ Lagzilla: Or they scammed half the town

~ NoobMaster3000: Wait... can you even make that much without killing people?

~ Phoenix: You can. But you’d have to be insane.

The speculation spiraled wildly after that.

[SystemMod_03: Reminder: false accusations and harassment will result in penalties.]

That only made the curiosity worse.

~ FrostBender: Whoever that is, they’re definitely not normal.

~ SteelReaper: 50,500 GP means they controlled the flow of the stage itself.

~ Nightshade: Or bent it.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Player KielZie’s Room

Ezekiel was staring at the Open World Chat, dumbfounded. Reading the chats of other Players.

He leaned back, letting out a low whistle. "That’s... ridiculous."

He replayed the third stage in his head—the thieves lurking at every corner, the scams, the inflated prices, the constant paranoia of losing everything with one wrong step. He had optimized routes, avoided obvious traps, even skipped fights that weren’t worth the risk. And still, he had barely crawled past the safe line.

And then there was this player.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Player SacredBlade’s Room

Cypher stood near the window, arms loosely crossed as the Open World Chat floated in front of him, lines of text scrolling faster than he could read.

"UnluckyExtra..." he murmured, eyes lingering on the name as it appeared again and again. Praise, disbelief, envy—sometimes all three packed into a single sentence. "Who could you be?"

"What?"

Cypher flinched slightly and turned around.

Rex and Christian were inside his room—his room—acting as if they owned the place. Christian was pacing back and forth, peeking into Cypher’s storage drawer with zero shame, while Rex had already made himself comfortable on the bed, legs stretched out, chewing loudly on something that Cypher was fairly sure he had been saving for later.

"Who are you talking about?" Christian asked, half-distracted as he inspected the corner of the room.

"UnluckyExtra," Cypher replied calmly.

"Oh, that player?" Christian said, finally stopping. "Is the chat still going crazy about the fifty-thousand GP thing?"

"I heard she’s a woman," Rex added through a mouthful of food. "Like, actually confirmed."

Christian blinked. "Really? Did you even meet her?"

"Not me," Rex said, shrugging. "But some players said they’ve encountered her before. There’s that feature, remember? The one that shows players you’ve crossed paths with."

"Oh?" Christian’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Let me check mine. Rex?"

"No chance," Rex said immediately, waving him off. "I don’t stalk system logs."

Christian scoffed. "Liar."

Then both of them turned toward Cypher.

"How about you?" Christian asked. "Did you meet UnluckyExtra?"

Cypher didn’t answer.

His gaze was fixed on the system window in front of him as he scrolled through the list of encountered players. Most names passed by without reaction. Some were familiar, others forgettable.

Then—

He stopped.

There it was.

UnluckyExtra

The room seemed quieter all of a sudden.

"What?" Rex sat up straight. "No way. You met her?"

"When?" Christian leaned in, squinting at the system window as if that would give him answers.

Cypher stared at the name. "I don’t know," he finally said, voice low.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The group chat stayed open, hovering stubbornly in the corner of my vision while I browsed the Vision Shop like a newly rich menace to society.

First purchase: a proper bed. Not the stiff, suspiciously lumpy plank I had suffered on during the three stages. I bought the comfiest-looking one available—thick mattress and oversized pillows. I immediately tossed the old bed into disposal without even a moment of silence.

Second: a soft carpet, because my feet deserved happiness.

Third: a table and chair, because eating on the floor like a raccoon had been a dark Chapter of my life.

Fourth: a bathroom. An actual bathroom. I stared at it for a good five seconds after installation, hands on my hips, deeply satisfied.

I briefly hovered over the kitchen set, then immediately backed away.

No.

Absolutely not.

Why would I buy a kitchen when I couldn’t even boil water without it turning into a crime scene? I wasn’t about to burn my entire room down and get fined by the system for arson.

I looked at the group chat again. Thorne kept complaining and he was the only one filling our group chat.

As I admired my newly upgraded living space, I glanced back at the group chat.

Unsurprisingly, it was still being single-handedly powered by Thorne.

Trickster: How long do we have to go the next platform?

Trickster: Damn it. Dagur keeps making a mess in my room

I could practically hear him whining.

Ironclad Fists: Then y invite me n da 1st place?

I snorted.

I decided to contribute something useful for once.

UnluckyExtra: Why not decorate your room There’s items in the Vision Shop

There was a long pause.

Then—

Trickster: Hell no! They’re too expensive!

I rolled onto my new bed, sinking into it like I was being swallowed by a cloud.

Before Thorne could continue his monologue, Kairos stepped in with perfect timing.

Boss: Then let the group chat rest

Instantly:

Trickster: Yes boss

I stared at the chat window, stunned.

"...Wow," I muttered. "So that’s what authority looks like."

The group chat finally fell silent, peace restored to the digital world.

I relaxed—only for another notification to pop up almost immediately.

Private Chat Request

From: Boss

My spine straightened.

Boss: You haven’t eaten yet right?

My ears practically twitched. ’Don’t tell me... Please don’t give me hope.’

Boss: I’ll send you an invite to my room

I stared at the message.

Then stared some more.

Then my vision blurred just a little.

"...I knew the world hadn’t abandoned me," I whispered dramatically.

I typed back as fast as my fingers would allow.

UnluckyExtra: Wait what about the two?

There was a brief pause before the reply came.

Boss: Don’t worry about them. Thorne can just cook for Dagur

I nodded to myself.

Fair point. Thorne was a good cook.

But still—

If given the choice between Thorne’s cooking and Kairos’s?

There was no contest.

I accepted the invite with a smile that could brighten up the whole room.