Coin’s Edge: Reincarnated as a Extra

"Hahahaha!"

"You deserve that! Go to hell! Fucking doctor!"

A kid with a blank face shouted at Hector, laughing maniacally.

With hollow eyes, she smiled and hurled rapid, cruel curses at him, words filled with disgust over the mistake he had made.

At that moment, Hector could barely hear anything from the prisoner, who continued to torture him with brutal acts.

Strangely, what he couldn't hear most was the only thing echoing through his mind.

He would have rather been cursed by the prisoner than hear again the dying voice of the child he had killed.

Somehow, even though he was still alive, his mind kept sinking deeper.

And now, a long-forgotten feeling began to stir within him.

Was it rage? Or madness?

"Fuck! Why do I have to endure this?"

"My lucky coin? What the hell are you doing? I guess you want me to suffer this agony—even after saving my life—but this is way beyond my limit."

He had lost his vigilance—blinded by the confidence born from knowledge and foresight—but it had all meant nothing.

What a pathetic joke.

All the causes of his suffering...

Maybe he should have done everything with brute force instead of all that blurry, half-hearted effort.

In the end, he was just too weak... He only ever became strong because the world kept changing the way people survived, even when given a second chance.

Countless negative emotions tore into his mind, igniting something unfamiliar—something so powerful it even drowned out the pain in his body and the emotional numbness smothering his thoughts.

[Warning] – The corruption is consuming your emotions.

[Warning] – The corruption is consuming your emotions.

[Error] – An abominable mana is born from your mind.

[Error] – An abominable mana is born from your mind.

***

"Hahahahaha."

"Why aren't you saying anything more?"

The emaciated prisoner laughed inhumanely, violently kicking the side of Hector's head.

And again!

But a few seconds later, it seemed he got no response from Hector, and he began to worry.

Looking at Hector's state at that point, anyone could have assumed he was already a corpse.

There was no breath, no movement—only a steady stream of blood dripping from the gaping wound in his limb, inflicted by the prisoner's sword, soaking the floor that had long since been stained crimson for ages.

"Don't tell me he's dead! If so, I won't get the reward!"

A wave of anxiety swept over him as the realization dawned that things might not go according to plan.

"Hey, You! Hurry up! Give him your mana. If he dies, you're going with him too!"

Behind the fighting yard, Tom shouted loudly, his voice full of rage.

"This sucks! He's a new product—if he dies before I can get anything useful out of him, my master's going to bury me alive!"

"Shit! I should've paid more attention!"

Normally, he would never have let something like this happen. But this was Hector. He wanted him to suffer a little. After all, Hector had humiliated him.

Right now, Tom was panicking a bit, but not completely. Deep down, he knew about that abominable mana—the kind with an unbelievable healing ability.

"Don't die!"

"Die anytime, but not now—not by my hand!"

The emaciated prisoner mumbled, quickly healing Hector's wound with a desperate wish that he wouldn't die just yet.

"Fuck! That's not enough!"

He began to tense as all his efforts seemed to be going to hell.

"H-He's dead?"

The prisoner's twisted face showed unease. He trembled slightly, turning back to Tom, thoughts racing about the consequences he now had to face.

"Argh!"

Suddenly, a choking agony consumed his throat.

And then, he lost his sense of gravity, lifted into the air.

He clawed at the hand tightening around his neck with his bony fingers, staring in horror at the figure before him.

"I-Impossible!"

Yes, that was all he could think about—struggling to survive within the grasp of Hector's hand.

Overwhelmed, the prisoner had become a literal corpse.

Yet, Hector didn't stop. He kept going until the prisoner's neck was completely crushed, and then the prisoner's head slumped down, crimson blood streaming and soaking the ground.

Hector, at this moment, was no longer the same as before.

The blood from his wound hadn't dripped, and the prisoner's short sword, still embedded in his limb, was slowly being pushed out by the pressure of regenerating muscle. But there was something else.

It was the aura he was giving off.

It was violent.

It was suffocating.

It filled everyone nearby with a vague sense of dread and discomfort.

Someone standing close to him even began experiencing shortness of breath, a headache, and nausea.

"Awesome! Is that...?" Tom awkwardly curled the corner of his lips, stunned by an outcome he had never expected from Hector.

From his assessment, this was different from those trash products.

No—he needed a few more tests to confirm the true output of the capsule they had created.

So Tom shouted at the prisoners with a commanding voice:

"Hey! You stupid trash! Attack him! Anyone who can subdue him without killing him will get a year's worth of drugs!"

That was a relatively generous reward, but even then, that thing was hardly worth risking their lives for.

Because of that, a wave of hesitation spread through the crowd. Most of the prisoners could barely stand upright in the presence of Hector's aura, let alone fight him!

Still, a small group, relying on their sharpened senses, decided to take the gamble.

However, there was barely any time to evaluate anything—Hector had already vanished from his original spot.

"Oh shit! Protect me!"

Tom was gripped by panic as Hector charged at him with terrifying speed.

Crushed beneath Hector's aura, Tom began to feel weak and pale, his mind unraveling as his sense of control slipped away.

"I-I'll lock your neck! You asshole!"

Tom quickly pulled tools from his spatial system, ready to activate them before it was too late.

"Aaaah!"

His hand, holding the device that could immediately stop Hector's unstoppable rampage, was suddenly pinned by a coin from out of nowhere.

As the tools slipped from his grasp—the only things that could help him now—panic and fear began to overwhelm him.

Then, just like that, Tom collapsed under an unseen force.

He tried to lift his knees, but it was nearly impossible… until, a moment later, Hector lifted him effortlessly by the throat.

"N-Nooo!"

Tom screamed in hopeless, but then, his voice was strangled as Hector's grip tightened.

His eyes widened in horror, staring into Hector's face—only to see twisted eyes looking back.

Suddenly, a wave of liquid rose from his stomach.

He wanted to vomit, but couldn't—the entrance to his stomach was clenched tight, and everything else inside him was being tortured at once.

He was on the brink of losing both his sanity and his life, just staring into Hector's eyes, crushed beneath the pressure of his aura.

All the prisoners in the arena watched the scene between Tom and Hector with a kind of thrilled awe, as if they were witnessing something they had never seen before.

Of course, all they wished was that Tom's death would come right now.