Transmigrated as an Extra: Awakening of The Ex‐Class”

When I looked up, she was still watching me.

She was smiling.

A wide, deliciously uncomfortable smile, twisted at its edges as if the act itself were painful. But her eyes… her eyes knew no suffering. They glowed with such unnatural, merciless intensity, like the gaze of an animal toying with its prey before breaking its bones.

"Ah…" she murmured, strutting in front of me with the unholy grace of a dancer, gliding through the purple mist that coated the domain's floor. "You're amusing me more than I expected… I didn't think you'd last even a blow."

Her voice, laced with excitement, reverberated through the air like poison. Every word held a dangerous undertone that dug into my mind, probing my thoughts, trying to engender fear and… pleasure, but they were blocked by my features.

Even so, the hunger in his gaze, the predatory, impatient, almost sadistic lust he emanated, unsettled me.

But... I didn't back down.

I knew if I did, it would be the end. Not out of compassion for him, but because nothing of me would be left worth saving.

I clutched my sword with the pain in my body, feeling the mana roaring, squeezing through my torn veins. With all my strength, I coated the blade with that dark energy, while my body trembled under the exertion. Every breath was difficult to bear. Every muscle, a knot of pain about to break. But as long as I could raise the weapon... I would keep fighting.

"What will you do now, cutie?" he purred, tilting his head in a gesture that, were it not for the aura he gave off, would have seemed cute. Behind her, shadows swirled violently. The flow swirled: alive, expectant, hungry.

I swallowed, gathered what little energy remained within me... and took a step forward.

I advanced, throwing myself forward with a scream stifled in my throat, barely dodging the tentacles of darkness that erupted from the ground like living whips.

My sword slashed blindly, again and again, tracing frantic arcs that cleaved the air. Each movement tore shreds of strength from my body. Every blow I received made my consciousness waver, slipping like sand through my fingers. Fear was not an option, and despair even less so. My resolve was never to give up.

Then behind the witch, the dancing shadows swirling with emotion began to convulse.

A purple mist manifested from the dark maw, creeping in swirling spirals as if an invisible force were tearing at the very fabric. From that vortex, violent threads of darkness erupted, intertwining, flattening, and molding with a delicacy that would shame any craftsman into a gigantic silhouette.

The ground trembled briefly beneath my feet. The air thickened, with cold and violent tones as if reality were yielding to a crueler power.

The creature emerged like a monarch.

A colossal tiger, over four meters tall, rose before me. Its body was an abomination of shadows as black as the abyss, moving and flowing over themselves in perpetual darkness. Every muscle, every sinew, seemed to be formed by the corrupting energy of its domain.

And its eyes...

Three dilated eyes burned on its beastly face, violet-hued flames hissing around them, not only illuminating the mist but seeming to consume it.

Its gaze was a judgment, a death decree, a sentence that seemed unrevoked by anything in the world.

The tiger opened its jaws, revealing fangs like spears forged from condensed shadow, and roared.

The roar not only shook my body like a wave that pierced my soul, but also made my bones vibrate and my heart tremble in my chest. Every drop of mana within me stirred, trembling, at the overwhelming presence of this creature straight from the jaws of hell.

My breath hitched.

And in the midst of that chaos, that indomitable force, she—the witch—only smiled, as if she delighted in every throb of the violent, pessimistic impulses that hammered in my chest.

I tried with all my might to shuffle back in a desperate attempt to put some distance between that thing and me. Each thump in my temples felt like a war drum, each breath was like tearing my already exhausted lungs dry.

But it was then, when I thought there would be no more surprises, when I noticed.

The remnants I had cut earlier, those blackish strands floating torn in the air, began to twist upon making eye contact with the tiger-shaped beast, as if my attack hadn't destroyed them; they had simply regenerated, changing their shape.

One after another, they began to intertwine, tangle, and brutally devour each other. It was a disgusting sight, yet my consolation was that the tiger was equally paralyzed.

I saw how a trembling shadow lunged at another, tearing it to shreds before absorbing it.

Others responded in kind: biting each other with a mouth that emerged from nowhere, swallowing each other in a grotesque feast.

And so, with each tentacle that attacked and severed me, a new victim was born.

The once simple tentacles were now transformed into mossy, pitch-black serpents, their bodies covered in scales that gleamed dimly in the sickly light of the domain. They rose around me, hissing and clashing their gaping jaws, the shadow flesh still dripping from their illusory maw.

A shudder ran down my spine.

I took another step back, shakily raising my sword, my senses on high alert. But in an instant. The exact moment I slid my gaze toward the shadow tiger crouching beyond, I made the fatal error.

I let my guard down.

Like vultures chasing the scent of blood, the snakes took advantage of my distraction.

They pounced.

One struck my calf, skillfully wrapping itself around my leg with incredibly tenacious strength. Another coiled around my opposite thigh, squeezing, strangling, immobilizing me.

In a matter of seconds, I was trapped.

I could feel the cold emanating from their bodies as they pressed closer and closer, sinking their fangs into my clothing, seeking to tear, to penetrate the uniform that functioned like light armor.