“Theo…”
Her long, white hair shimmered like the radiant moonlight, and her blue eyes reminded me of a clear and deep lake.
“Do you have time this weekend?”
Her warm and gentle smile felt like it could pull anyone in.
“It’s nothing special, really. There’s just somewhere I want to go.”
Her neat uniform, white skin, and the blush blooming like a full moon between them—enough to shake any man’s heart.
“Is it… not possible?”
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t swayed.
Why, you ask?
Because she was one of the most popular people at the academy.
But it couldn’t happen.
No, it shouldn’t happen.
I was an outsider who had been thrust into this place, and even among outsiders, I was nothing more than an insignificant extra.
There are many types of people in this world: office workers, students, homemakers, pro gamers, novelists, and so on.
Each one lives their life fulfilling their unique role.
Over time, goals change, and new roles are defined.
Sometimes, when we see others moving ahead, we feel as though we’re merely living the life of an extra.
“They’re different from me. I can’t reach them…”
Perhaps most of us—save for a lucky few—have felt this way at least once.
I can’t claim everyone would agree, though.
Some might brush it off as insignificant, while others, ever the optimists, might say:
[If we change our perspective, maybe we’re the protagonists of our own stories.]
How absurd.
For someone like me, who’s been cast as an extra from the very start, those words are nothing but infuriating.
Yeah, just like me.
‘Damn it, these lousy characters. Even when spoon-fed, they can’t do a single thing right.’
I’ve been transmigrated.
Into a romance fantasy—a so-called “rofan”—that’s nothing more than a toxic dumpster fire of a novel.
‘Why is the protagonist so dumb? Didn’t they get proper parenting?’
It’s been a year since I was thrown into this cursed place.
Through countless efforts, I managed to raise my presence enough to get a single line in the main story.
But that was it.
Even now, I’m still treated as “passerby extra #1.”
“Hey, what’s your name again?”
“Theonard, senior.”
“Right, Theonard. Clean properly, will you? What’s with all this dust?”
“Yes… I’ll make sure to clean thoroughly.”
The one who just spoke to me was Aldania Isabel, a senior by one year.
Her short, flowing bob cut and fiery red eyes were striking—a heroine of this world.
“Seriously, I clean every morning and evening, and she still doesn’t remember my name. What a blockhead.”
Despite her beauty, she was foul-mouthed and relished physical confrontations—the academy’s most notorious brawler, Aldania Isabel.
[Your presence has increased.]
[EXP +1]
“After two hours of backbreaking cleaning, just 1 point…?”
After being transmigrated into this novel, I became a first-year student at Arcane Academy, the empire’s most prestigious royal institution.
Initially, I was thrilled and curious about this fantasy world.
But that didn’t last long.
<Welcome to Thrilling Arcane Academy!>
[Your role is: Extra.]
[You can earn Extra Points (EXP) and access various features.]
[Note: If your presence fades too much, your self will be erased.
Please be cautious.]
That message crushed my spirit.
‘Couldn’t I just live a carefree life here?’
I had entered a fantasy world I once admired and dreamed of, hoping to live as I pleased.
But what was this nonsense?
Apparently, if I didn’t get involved in the main story alongside the protagonist and key characters, I would lose my sense of self entirely.
‘I’m working harder than I ever did before, just to maintain this lousy “presence.”’
Out of sheer curiosity, I once experimented with what would happen if I let my presence fade.
For a week, I holed up in my dorm and did nothing.
“…Wait, did I transfer elementary schools?”
Suddenly, fragments of my childhood were missing, like someone had ripped pages out of my memory.
The indescribable terror I felt back then… It drove me to desperation.
Ever since, I’ve done everything in my power to increase my presence.
The story’s timeline placed me a year before the main plot began.
The protagonist hadn’t even arrived at the academy yet.
‘I thought I was done for back then.’
Presence is incredibly subjective, and I had no idea how to maintain it.
I planned to become a weak but kind friend who stuck by the protagonist’s side, but they weren’t around yet.
So, the method I chose was simple:
“Theo, could you help me with this?”
“Sure, let me see.
I’ll write down the solution for you.”
I hovered around the heroines.
My strategy was to maintain a fleeting presence in the memories of the key characters.
Of course, this required effort.
I had to make myself useful to them.
“…Even with the solution, I don’t get it.”
“Look closely. It’s similar to the problem we solved before.”
“Is it? You’re so much smarter than me, Theo.”
I feigned intelligence to approach classmates who were heroines.
“We, the Imperial Mystery and Paranormal Research Society, have no members. Why is that…?”
I joined the club of another heroine, pretending to share her interests.
“Hmm, today’s cleaning is spotless.”
I showered insincere praise while meticulously cleaning the practice room another heroine frequently used.
“May the will of Elea be with you today as well, faithful believer…”
I even joined a religious organization I didn’t believe in, chanting prayers like a fanatic.
Living this exhausting life for a whole year led to a result.
[Total EXP: 100,000]
“Finally! I did it!”
Through sheer determination, I had accumulated 100,000 points.
It wasn’t much—just 1 or 2 points at a time—but I’d saved them up.
Extra Points (EXP) had their uses.
Consumables, weapons, equipment, and even artifacts of great value could be purchased.
“But what’s the point of all this…?”
If I were the protagonist, I could’ve bought everything, pieced it together, and become overpowered.
But.
“…What can a mere extra do?”
In this story, only the protagonist can defeat the final antagonist.
The world is just a stage for the protagonist’s grand tale.
The supporting cast exists solely to make them shine.
And me?
I’m nothing more than a passing background character.
Growing stronger wouldn’t change anything.
My goal was to ensure the smooth progression of the main story.
If the protagonist or heroines failed, who knew what kind of catastrophe might unfold?
As an extra, I could only hover around, helping them succeed.
That was the only way I’d have a chance to return to my reality.