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

I didn't see Rainer this morning, as I had expected. Or perhaps, this was exactly how the story was meant to unfold.

In the novel Warrior Destiny, Marquis Arleon meets Rainer during the evening banquet. They discuss a terrifying plague devastating one of the villages in the Marquis' territory. The plague wasn't just fast-spreading—it was rumored to be tied to dark magic.

What made me uneasy, though, was the Marquis' true intention.

Why Rainer?

Rainer was identified as a mercenary, someone without political affiliations or ties to anyone. Marquis Arleon, known for his shrewd yet calculating nature, deliberately chose someone like Rainer for the task.

From the outside, it seemed like the Marquis simply needed the help of a mercenary. But I knew better. Marquis Arleon specifically selected Rainer because he saw him as bait.

The Marquis planned to send Rainer to the plagued village to investigate the source. However, the real goal wasn't merely uncovering the cause of the plague. It was to lure out the mastermind behind it—a dark sorcerer hiding beneath the village's caves.

Marquis Arleon wasn't foolish. He knew that sending an official army would be too conspicuous and might cause the sorcerer to flee. But a lone mercenary? That looked like a mere coincidence.

If Rainer succeeded, the Marquis would get all the information he needed without taking much risk himself. And if Rainer failed… well, it was a small price to pay.

I let out a long sigh as I stood in the manor's grand corridor, staring at the massive doors to the meeting hall. Would the Marquis try to pull something similar with me?

Though I'd been invited under the pretense of discussing business, I couldn't shake off the wariness creeping up my spine. The Marquis was a calculating man, and I doubted he would extend such an invitation without a specific purpose in mind.

"All right," I muttered, adjusting my collar. "I'll face this with a clear head. No use dwelling on worst-case scenarios now."

With steady steps, I pushed open the grand doors, ready to face Marquis Arleon and whatever plan he had in store.

The moment I stepped in, the room immediately commanded my attention. The ceiling soared high, adorned with intricate carvings. A grand chandelier cast a warm glow across the space, and the walls were decorated with opulent paintings. At the center, a sturdy dark wooden table dominated the room, its surface scattered with documents and steaming cups of tea.

I didn't have to wait long for him to arrive.

Marquis Arleon de Vryse entered the room with calm, deliberate steps. His attire was noble yet understated—a deep blue coat embroidered with gold. His features exuded the composure of a leader: neatly combed brown hair, and piercing green eyes that could dissect you with a glance.

The moment I saw him, I stood and performed the customary bow of this kingdom, placing one hand over my chest.

"Your Grace," I said respectfully.

The Marquis studied me briefly before giving a small nod, a calculated smile gracing his lips. "Mr. Arkan, I'm glad you could make it. My apologies for my absence yesterday."

"No trouble at all," I replied, keeping my voice calm and formal. "I understand that a noble's duties often call at unpredictable times."

He nodded once more before taking his seat at the head of the table. With a small gesture, he invited me to sit across from him.

"Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss."

I complied, sitting down with a posture that balanced politeness and ease.

The conversation began, as expected, with pleasantries. Marquis Arleon spoke with an air of cordiality, as if we were old acquaintances catching up after years apart.

"So, Mr. Arkan," he said while pouring tea into his cup, "I've heard that your products have become quite the talk in the nearby towns. High-quality soap, candles, even paper—simple items, yet highly innovative."

I offered a small smile, remaining composed under his sharp gaze. "Thank you for your kind words, Your Grace. I've only sought to meet the market's needs with greater efficiency."

The Marquis nodded, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. "Efficiency is a rare quality. But it alone is not enough for success. Intelligence, bravery, and… a touch of luck are also required. Wouldn't you agree?"

I met his gaze for a moment before answering. "Of course, Your Grace. However, I believe luck doesn't come by chance. It must be earned through hard work and sound decisions.

I knew this wasn't just idle talk. The Marquis' friendly demeanor was merely a veneer. Behind every question and comment, he was measuring me.

Am I smart enough?

Am I trustworthy?

Or perhaps… am I simply someone who can be used?

I wasn't about to fall into his game. After all, I was a businessman, and a businessman's ultimate goal is profit.

"Interesting," the Marquis finally said, sipping his tea with a deliberate grace. His sharp green eyes remained locked on me. "So, Mr. Arkan, tell me—can you guess why I invited you here?"

And there it was—he was finally cutting to the chase.

I took a slow sip of my tea before setting the cup down gently. A faint smile curved on my lips. I wasn't backing down now.

"Ah, Your Grace, that's an intriguing question," I replied, keeping my tone casual but not overly deferential. "But is this question a test? Or a subtle way of drawing out my thoughts?"

The Marquis narrowed his eyes slightly but smiled faintly, clearly amused by my response. "And what if I said it was both?"

I chuckled lightly and leaned back in my chair with practiced ease. If he wanted to play games, I didn't mind.

"Very well," I said, folding my hands on the table. "If I had to guess, I'd say this invitation isn't solely about routine business matters. Perhaps Your Grace is intrigued by what I have to offer. Or…" I paused for effect, meeting his gaze with a hint of sharpness. "Perhaps you're testing whether I might be useful to your plans."

The Marquis' smile widened, and his eyes gleamed with interest.

"Remarkable," he said, setting his cup down with deliberate care. "Not many would dare to answer so boldly in my presence. Is it because of your confidence, or simply a lack of concern for what might come next?"

I shrugged casually, keeping my faint smile. "Perhaps both, Your Grace. As a businessman, I've grown accustomed to navigating risks. If I must take a gamble for something greater, then it's just part of the game."

The Marquis studied me for a long moment before finally breaking into a thin, enigmatic smile. "I see… Well then, listen carefully."

He leaned back in his chair, clasping his fingers together casually before continuing. "Do you know what the most promising commodity of this era is?"

I raised an eyebrow slightly, though I had a hunch about the direction of this conversation.

"Alcohol," he said in a near-murmur, but loud enough for his words to register clearly, making my eyes widen just a fraction.

Liquor.

The Marquis gave a faint smile, clearly enjoying my reaction, before elaborating. "Liquor is one of the most sought-after goods, Mr. Arkan. Not just among nobles, but also the middle and lower classes. Everyone wants it—whether for celebration, escapism, or simple entertainment."

I nodded slowly, taking in this revelation. In fantasy worlds, beverages like ale, often served in taverns, fell squarely into the category of alcoholic drinks. But their quality frequently left much to be desired. Even with my modern knowledge, I knew that the taste of most ales here could best be described as horse urine.

The Marquis raised his teacup, contemplating the warm liquid for a moment before continuing. "The problem is that there isn't an efficient method for distilling alcohol in this region. Even after fermentation, the taste remains unrefined and unsuitable for noble palates like mine."

He gently placed the teacup back on the table. "That's why I called you here, Mr. Arkan. I've heard you have the skill to create something new, something revolutionary. I want to collaborate with you on this project—to create a liquor not only befitting my taste but capable of dominating the market."

I stared at him for a moment, working to piece together the larger scheme behind his plan. "This is certainly a bold challenge," I said finally. "But I must ask… Why choose me for such a project? Surely there are other merchants far more experienced in this field."

The Marquis smiled faintly, leaning back with an air of confidence. "Do you want to know why? It's simple."

His sharp green eyes locked onto mine, as though attempting to dissect my thoughts. "You're lucky."

I remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I evaluated many potential candidates," he explained, his tone calm but filled with authority. "But your name happened to stand out—a rising figure with a reputation for revolutionary business ideas. Your innovations have attracted a great deal of attention, including mine. Now, I want to see if your reputation lives up to reality."

I allowed a small smile, sensing that this was the heart of his game. The Marquis wasn't just testing the idea; he was testing me.

"Very well," I said at last, keeping my tone polite but confident. "If that's what you desire, I'm willing to take on this challenge. But I must caution you, a project like this will require time, resources, and, of course, close collaboration."

The Marquis nodded, the faint smile still on his lips. "That's precisely what I wanted to hear. If you succeed, the profits we'll reap will be immense, Mr. Arkan."

I returned the nod, fully aware that the real game had just begun.

Creating high-quality liquor in a world like this wasn't merely a technical challenge—it was a golden opportunity to reshape the business landscape in this region.

And I wasn't going to let it slip through my fingers.