I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra

Chapter 320

"As I was saying," I continued, ignoring the absurdity, "you don’t need fifty people to get the elevator going. Even a single person can leave with it."

Kairos’s eyes sharpened slightly.

Akali, who had just dashed back from the Cerberlion with blood streaking her cheek, frowned. "Then that’s better, isn’t it? We just need to find the portal as quickly as possible."

"Ah fuck! You’re so disgusting!" Dagur barked as Akali casually wiped the blood from her face onto his arm while passing him.

She didn’t even apologize.

"It’s not better," I said calmly.

They looked at me.

"Fifty is just the maximum capacity. Not a requirement."

"Considering human greed," I continued, stepping forward toward the Titancoil Kong, "how many people do you think will willingly wait for a full group before activating the portal?"

No one answered immediately.

"They’ll leave the moment they find it, even if they’re alone. In other words," I finished, "it’s unlikely fifty people will coordinate properly. We’ll probably see ten. twenty at best. Per day."

Dagur scratched his chin. "So?"

"So," I said, summoning my daggers lazily to orbit around me, "that means it’s fine if we’re a little late to arrive to the next platform."

"What do we need to do then, brat?!" Dagur barked, already itching for violence.

"The usual."

And I ran straight at the Titancoil Kong.

If the unlimited respawn window was still active, then this was the perfect time.

No lasting death and just pain. A lot of pain.

The Kong roared as I approached, its serpent-fists snapping and hissing. Venom sprayed across the ground, sizzling where it landed.

The first death came fast.

I misjudged the reach of one of the snake arms. It coiled around my torso and crushed me before slamming me headfirst into the dirt.

Black.

Respawn.

Second attempt.

I aimed for the shoulder joint this time—got too greedy. One serpent detached mid-swing and bit straight through my throat.

Black.

Respawn.

Third attempt.

Fourth.

Fifth.

At some point I stopped counting emotionally and started counting analytically.

Each death was different, I catalogued each mistake and even adjusted my movements.

By the fifteenth death, I had memorized the delay between the serpent coil and the bite.

By the eighteenth, I had mapped the muscle contraction pattern before it charged.

On the twenty-first, I finally got it right.

I baited the double snake strike, slid under its torso, severed the right serpent-fist at the base, then drove three daggers into the exposed rib gap while channeling everything I had left into one final upward thrust.

The blade pierced through the underside of its jaw and into its brain.

The Titancoil Kong froze, trembled, then collapsed with a thunderous crash that shook the clearing.

I dropped beside the corpse, chest heaving, limbs shaking from accumulated phantom pain. Even if respawn erased physical damage, the memory of it lingered.

Let’s have a recap of what I just experienced:

— My head and limbs were severed eight times.

— I was poisoned five times.

— I was smashed into the ground three times.

— I was thrown hard enough to crater trees four times.

In total I died twenty times.

"Hey, Ghost," I muttered tiredly, staring at the canopy. "Is this enough for our meal?"

In an instant, he was standing over me. "I’m impressed you managed to kill it after dying twenty times."

"Thanks—"

"I thought you were going to need fifty more tries," he continued flatly, "but by then the unlimited respawn time would’ve ended and you’d be permanently dead."

"..."

"..."

[Oof burn!]

[Hahahaha! Even with the skills you have, you can’t even beat one monster?!]

I blinked.

What the hell... Even these two are mocking me?!

’Quiet down! I can’t think properly!’ I snapped internally.

"Then what about Dagur?" I shot back at Ghost. "How many tries before he could kill this thing?"

"To be honest," Ghost said bluntly, already crouching to inspect the corpse, "he could kill this monster without wasting his life."

I stared at him.

"If his magic power and Gift weren’t restricted," he added calmly.

[Weak-ass.]

[Only relying on her ability.]

’Hey! My magic power and Gifts were also restricted!’

[What’s there to restrict with you?]

[Hahaha!]

My eye twitched.

I don’t even know who I’m arguing with anymore.

’Can you at least change your brackets so I know who’s talking?’

[Hey, you change yours.]

[Why me? I’m the admin here, so you change.]

[No, I’m not changing. This bracket was mine first.]

[Well you’re useless here. You’re not even one of the Vision’s admins.]

They started bickering like children in my head.

I closed my eyes.

I officially give up.

Meanwhile, Ghost had already begun skinning the Titancoil Kong with efficient, precise cuts.

"Coordination," he said suddenly.

I opened one eye. "Huh?"

"Practice your coordination," he repeated without looking up. "You have speed. Reaction time. Good instincts. But your synchronization between movement, blade control, and situational awareness still lags under pressure."

I frowned slightly.

He continued working, peeling the thick hide away cleanly. "You fight like you’re solving one problem at a time," he said. "Against weaker enemies, that’s fine. Against something stronger, you need to solve multiple problems simultaneously."

I sat up slowly. "You mean I tunnel vision?"

"Yes."

Blunt as always.

"You focus on the attack window and forget positioning. You calculate damage but not recovery time. You anticipate one variable but not the chain reaction."

I replayed the twenty deaths in my mind.

He wasn’t wrong.

"Coordination," he repeated. "Body, blades, mind. All moving as one system."

Behind us, Dagur cracked his neck loudly.

"Oi! You two done flirting over that corpse?" he yelled. "There’s still that three-headed cat running around!"

Akali snorted somewhere nearby.

I stood up slowly, brushing the dirt from my clothes.

Only then did something click.

I stared at Ghost’s back.

"Wait... you can talk?"

He paused mid-motion, blade buried halfway through the Titancoil Kong’s thick hide.

For a second, I thought he might pretend he hadn’t heard me.

Instead, he resumed chopping as if nothing was unusual.

"I only talk," he said evenly, "when there’s someone like you."

I frowned. ’Someone like me? What does that even mean?’

Behind my eyes—

[Translation: I only talk when there’s IDIOTS like you.]

My jaw tightened.

And then—

{Damn! You didn’t even understand what he meant? You sure are an idiot.}

I inhaled slowly. Exhaled slowly.

’Okay,’ I said internally. ’First of all. Who’s this [] and who’s this {}?’

[Of course I’m the system.]

{And I’m the admin.}

I blinked.

Meanwhile, Ghost stood up, wiping his blade clean as if nothing strange had happened.

"You’re thinking too loudly," he said calmly.

"...Excuse me?"

He didn’t look at me. "Your face gives it away."

Dagur tossed the severed serpent-arm over his shoulder. "You look like you just got scolded by a ghost."

"Something like that," I muttered.

Inside my head—

[You were.]

{Definitely were.}

I resisted the urge to scream.

Coordination.

Right.

Body. Blades. Mind.

And apparently now—

Sanity.

I moved without another word and joined Akali against the Cerberlion.

The beast’s three heads turned toward me instantly.

The ember-maned head snarled first, flames licking along its golden fur.

The shadow-headed one lowered itself, darkness pooling beneath its paws.

The pale, skeletal head simply stared, perhaps I simply fit the profile of something worth killing.

"Round one," I muttered.

The first attempt ended in less than ten seconds.

The ember head feinted while the shadow head attacked my blind spot. The pale one lunged straight for my throat.

Black.

Respawn.

Second try.

I focused too much on dodging the fire breath and forgot the shadow head could extend unnaturally far.

Black.

Respawn.

Third.

Fourth.

Fifth.

This monster wasn’t about brute strength like the Titancoil Kong. It was about rhythm.

The three heads never attacked randomly.

The ember head attacks aggressively, the shadow head controls space, while the pale head waits to kill.

By the tenth death, I could feel the tempo.

By the fourteenth, I stopped reacting and started predicting.

By the seventeenth, I managed to injure one head—but the other two went berserk and tore me apart.

Eighteenth attempt—

I waited and didn’t rush.

The ember head roared and exhaled flame but I didn’t dodge immediately. Instead, I stepped into the edge of the heat, forcing the shadow head to commit early.

It lunged as I pivoted.

The pale head snapped at me causing me to throw a dagger not at it but at the base of its neck joint.

All three heads recoiled for half a second and that time was enough.

I split my daggers, sending three to anchor the shadow head to the ground, two to blind the ember head, and the last straight through the exposed spine where the heads converged.

The entire body collapsed including me.

I was kneeling, breathing heavily, blood streaking my arms, lungs burning from residual heat.

Eighteen tries.

When I finally pushed myself upright, my gaze drifted—unconsciously—to Ghost.

He had been leaning against a tree the entire time.

When he met my eyes, he slowly shook his head. "Coordination," he repeated.

I exhaled through my nose but didn’t say anything.

He pushed off the tree and walked past the Cerberlion’s corpse, inspecting the severed necks.

"You’re improving," he said quietly. "But you still separate thinking and moving."

I frowned slightly. "Explain."

"You analyze," he said. "Then you act."

"That’s normal."

"For ordinary fighters," he replied. "For you, analysis should happen during action. Not before it."

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Tunnel Vison: when you can only see what is directly in front of you, like looking through a tunnel. Everything to the sides or behind you becomes blurry or disappears. It’s like your eyes focus on one point and ignore everything else around it.