Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character

Once everything was done—after the blood had dried on my dagger, after Rudo's sobs had faded into the abyss—I felt the weight of it all crash down on me.

I vomited.

My knees hit the ground as my stomach violently emptied itself. The acidic, bitter taste burned my throat, but I barely noticed. I gasped for air, my chest tight, my head spinning.

This is normal, right? I thought, desperately trying to rationalize the chaos churning inside me.

I had just killed someone. No, not just one person—several. I had taken their lives, watched their blood spill, listened to their final breaths. My actions might have been planned, logical, even necessary. But in the end, I was still human.

A human who had crossed a line that could never be erased.

I slumped against a nearby tree, clutching at the bark as though it could ground me. My hands trembled, whether from exhaustion or shock, I couldn't tell. Their faces haunted me—especially Rudo's. His hateful eyes turning to terror, his cries of desperation fading into silence.

Why does this feel like this? I already knew this world was cruel. I knew I didn't have another choice. And yet, the nausea wouldn't stop, the cold prickle down my spine wouldn't leave, and a voice in the back of my mind kept whispering:

"Are you any different from them?"

I stared at my hand, still clutching the bloodstained dagger. The crimson streaks on the blade had dried, but the warmth I felt earlier lingered like a ghostly touch.

I took a shaky breath, trying to calm myself.

"This is normal… it's normal…" I muttered, my voice hollow, unfamiliar even to myself. I was trying to convince myself that this was simply a natural reaction to a first kill.

But deep down, I knew it wasn't just about my body. This was about my soul.

Old man Oldan's face surfaced in my mind, his faint smile, the glimmer of hope in his eyes during those final moments. His words, his unwavering belief that I could become something better.

"Old man… did I betray that faith?" I whispered. Only the eerie stillness of the forest answered me.

I glanced back at the dark woods, the place where it had all happened. Where I had become something I never thought I could be.

"But I have to survive…" I said, my voice quivering but firm. Slowly, I pushed myself back to my feet, my legs unsteady but strong enough to hold me. "I have no other choice."

The Gory Remains

After steadying myself, I made my way back to the cave where the bandits had set up camp. The faint smell of smoke hung in the air, mingling with the earthy dampness of the stone walls. My footsteps echoed softly as I ventured deeper, my breathing low and controlled.

Using a makeshift torch from my bag, I lit the dim pathway with a small flame. The flickering light revealed overturned crates, scattered coins, and the faint marks of the skirmish. I had to ensure there was nothing left behind that could pose a threat.

A large wooden chest caught my eye in one corner. The lock looked simple enough to break, and curiosity led me forward.

Prying it open revealed a glittering cache of gold coins.

The flickering light from my torch reflected off the mound of wealth, a shocking contrast to the filth of the bandits' lair. I knew these weren't theirs. This must've been taken from the countless traders, travelers, and villagers they had preyed upon.

I let out a heavy breath, picking up a handful of coins and slipping them into my pack. "At least… this can be used for something good," I murmured, though the guilt clung to me like a shadow.

As I continued searching the cave, a putrid stench began to grow stronger. My torchlight fell on a tattered cloth that hung loosely over a rusted iron fence. The smell came from behind it.

Clenching my teeth, I pulled the cloth aside with trembling hands.

A makeshift prison.

Inside, the horrifying remains of a person lay motionless—a woman, judging by what little was left. Her flesh had turned greenish and decayed, and maggots crawled over her discolored skin. Her empty eyes stared at the ceiling, locked in a silent scream of despair.

I stumbled backward, the sight alone forcing bile up my throat. My knees buckled as I retched again, my stomach clenching in violent waves of nausea. The acidic burn in my throat was nothing compared to the unbearable weight in my chest.

"Monsters… what have they done…" I rasped, my voice breaking into the suffocating silence.

The image burned itself into my mind, her lifeless body becoming a grim monument to the bandits' cruelty. The air reeked of rot and hopelessness, and for a brief moment, I wondered if this world could ever be salvaged.

I gripped the rusted bars until my knuckles turned white. Anguish turned to fury, and fury boiled into something sharper: resolve.

These bandits… deserved no mercy. I might've doubted myself before, but now, their deaths felt justified.

Reality Sinks In

After ensuring the woman had a proper burial outside the cave, I stood for a long time in silence, staring down at the crude mound of earth that marked her resting place.

This was no novel anymore. No romanticized medieval world where heroes solved problems with a single swing of a sword or a wave of their hand. This was a place of chaos, darkness, and raw survival.

The novel Warrior Destiny painted a world where strength reigned supreme, where the protagonist Rainer eventually rose from his failures to challenge fate itself.

But I was no Rainer. I wasn't destined to save kingdoms or destroy ancient evils.

I was an ordinary person—thrust into extraordinary circumstances—with only a single tool to rely on: this system that both guided and tormented me.

I stared at my hands, trembling and smeared with dried blood. "So… this is what it means to live in this world," I muttered, my voice hollow.

The realization hit hard. Today's bloodshed was only the beginning. If this world was truly the one from the novel, greater dangers waited ahead—monsters worse than bandits, rulers worse than tyrants.

I wiped my dagger clean, sliding it back into its sheath. Then, standing tall under the pale glow of the moonlight, I clenched my fists.

"If this is the world I've been thrown into…" I whispered to the wind, staring into the darkness. "Then I'll live in it my way. Whatever it takes… I'll survive."

With each step away from the cave, the air grew heavier. Yet there was no time to rest. Ahead lay the city—and perhaps, a new chance.