Coin’s Edge: Reincarnated as a Extra

Hector clicked his tongue as he glanced around.

"What the fuck are they gonna do with me?" he muttered, eyes fixed on the broad yard in front of him and the other prisoners.

He guessed a fight might be coming… or maybe not.

His suspicion was understandable.

This yard reeked of death — the bold, heavy scent clung to the air like an omen.

It was obvious the place had been used for something terrible… something he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Standing on the floor of the yard was a figure that looked familiar — someone Hector had seen many times before.

Tom.

But this time was different.

He wore a suit of black, old armor instead of the Academy uniform Hector remembered.

He gazed at everyone in the yard with a mocking eye, then shouted loudly for all to hear.

"Fucking prisoners! All of you will fight to the death!"

"You! Come here!" Tom pointed at Hector, his gesture a clear command that couldn't be refused by anyone in this place.

Hector paused for a few seconds, trying to steady his senses, trying to hear whether the voice was real or just part of his imagination.

So… he stepped into the yard.

But what awaited him was a brutal kick to the abdomen.

A few seconds later, he simply watched Hector, who was wriggling and clenching his abdomen in agony, and smiled in satisfaction.

It seemed he truly enjoyed his cruel job.

"I'll remember this," Hector muttered, struggling to rise.

His eyes remained fixed on the ground as he took a deep, ragged breath, silently recording the grudge in his heart.

…

"Now! You'll kill him! If not, you die!"

Tom pointed toward a different direction — a corner of the yard crowded with prisoners.

Time passed.

From among the crowd, a prisoner slowly stepped into the bloodstained yard.

That was a muscular man with a rough frame, and an endless scar was carved into each of his muscles.

He gazed at Hector with a blank look… he seemingly had endured terrible things.

"Start!" Tom shouted loudly and quickly stepped out of the fighting yard.

However, a few seconds later, nothing happened—just silence.

…

Hector grimaced and carefully kept a certain distance from the man.

A few seconds passed.

Still nothing.

"Hey! Fucking fool, do something!" Tom yelled in anger at the prisoners' inaction.

And finally, something happened that surprised everyone.

Bam.

The prisoner's large frame collapsed, and the floor of the fighting yard was drenched in blood pouring from his neck.

"Damn! He cut his own neck!" Hector's brows rose in a wave of unbelievable shock.

…

Looking into the prisoner's now hollow eyes, Hector felt a strange emotion toward the unfortunate man.

Yet, that feeling was shattered as a sickening sound echoed.

The prisoner's head was suddenly smashed into pieces. Flesh and brain matter sprayed outward, making everyone feel nauseous.

Not only that, but Tom barely held back his disgust. He continued to kick the prisoner's torso and spat in boredom and rage.

"Fuck you!"

"You should die when I tell you to die… Not like this."

"Motherfucker! Die!"

…

Tom kept kicking the man—again and again—until his legs began to tire.

His breathing grew shallow and ragged.

"Sigh"

After a few seconds of catching his breath, he glanced around with a chilling voice.

"Anyone who kills him… will get a reward."

And this time, another prisoner had raised his arm up.

Yep, A reward was always a source of motivation for anyone

***

"I'm gonna chew your brain!" the prisoner laughed, staring at Hector as if he were a fancy feast prepared just for him.

This man was a bit different from the dead prisoner earlier.

He wasn't muscular or well-built — instead, he was short and emaciated.

He almost looked like an ugly goblin, the kind that always assaulted beautiful, virgin girls in the fantasy movies he watched.

"Asshole! Die!"

Without a moment of hesitation, the prisoner lunged at Hector with the short sword in hand.

"Yahhh!"

A savage slash aimed at Hector's head — a blow meant to crush his skull.

A fatal strike.

Of course, Hector wasn't going to let that happen. He still wanted to live.

Kreeeeng!

The sound of clashing steel echoed through the air.

"Hehe! Just fight! A delicious meal needs lots of seasoning!"

The prisoner laughed like a lunatic, his eyes gleaming with twisted delight as his sword scraped aggressively against Hector's.

Grimacing, Hector pushed forward with his sword, trying to force the prisoner back.

Again and again, until the prisoner realized brute strength alone wasn't enough to overpower Hector.

But that much was obvious — Hector wasn't like other prisoners.

And yet… the prisoner still smiled.

Honestly, with such a frail body, if he didn't have some kind of trick up his sleeve, he wouldn't have survived this long.

Hector realized that, too. He couldn't afford to drop his guard — doing so would be like digging his own grave.

And then…

His doubts were confirmed.

This fight was far from over.

"Damn it… that—!"

Hector frowned as the tide of the clash suddenly turned.

His sword was being forced back, even though he had poured all his strength and mana into it.

Was he… losing? A thin and emaciated guy like him.

Feeling a burning pain in his hand, the result of the effort against the prisoner's sword, Hector clenched his teeth and grimaced in powerlessness… until

The prisoner raised his lips as much as he could, and his face distorted in satisfaction and craziness as each layer of the mana appeared in his pale and thin skin.

"DIE"

The prisoner knocked Hector's sword away and kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying to a corner of the yard.

The prisoner didn't chase.

He just licked his broken lips and slowly walked forward.

Lying on the cold ground was a relatively distant away from the prisoner, Hector tried to catch his breath, pain blooming in his chest.

"T-That's mana… like Jet's..." he muttered in agony.

"But how?"

The aura surrounding the prisoner… Hector couldn't mistake it.

That filthy, blood-soaked mana — he'd never forget it.

"Yakhi coin? No… it's not quite the same."

"No… that doesn't matter now. I need to end this first — I can think later."

Slowly, Hector stood up and locked eyes with the approaching prisoner.

He had prepared himself for anything.

Although the prisoner was fast, he wasn't losing control of his strength.

But there was one big problem —

Hector hesitated to use his treasure… his special skills.

Those hidden cards he was saving for a true life-or-death moment.

"Well… I'll be fine," he muttered.

Weighing the potential between help and harm that his treasures might bring, he decided not to use them.

After all, that man was weak — he had sensed it from their very first clash