Chapter 2: How an Extra Plans to Survive
Once I accepted the reality of my situation, everything became strangely… clear.
My name was Nero Crimsonflare now.
Not Rick Jasson—seriously, I still wanted to slap the author across the face for that surname.
Crimsonflare sounded cooler, and in my heart, that was my name.
Anyway.
This body belonged to a boy whose fate was just as miserable as my previous life.
His mother had died from cancer when he was young.
His father?
Unknown.
Not dead.
Not alive.
Just… absent.
He lived alone in a small house on the outskirts of the city, surviving on minimal income and even less social interaction.
Depression clung to him like a shadow. In a way, this body suited me too well.
Maybe that's why reincarnation chose me.
The important part wasn't his past, though.
It was his future.
According to the novel, this guy—me—received a mysterious letter inviting him to attend the entrance exam for Valerian Academy, the greatest academy on the continent.
Old, prestigious, powerful.
And extremely dangerous.
The entrance exam was infamous.
An island battle royale.
Hundreds of candidates.
Monsters.
Traps.
Blaa.
Blaa.
And, of course, the main cast.
The hero, Leon Sundawn, would appear in the middle of the exam. A villain would attack. Chaos would erupt.
And I?
I would rush in to help Leon.
And I would die.
Early chapter.
Quick death.
Barely mentioned afterward.
"Haa…" I sighed, collapsing onto the bed.
"How pathetic."
Most reincarnation stories went like this: the extra decides to save the main character, change the plot, and becomes
overpowered.
Not me.
I had no interest in saving the hero.
If Leon died, the world would be destroyed by the Abyss. That much I knew. So I wouldn't harm the plot—but I wasn't going to sacrifice myself for it either.
My survival plan was simple.
Join the academy.
Don't interfere with the hero.
Live quietly.
Eat free food.
Drink free wine.
Yes.
Free wine.
Valerian Academy provided meals, accommodation, and even alcohol to its students. Whoever designed that system was a genius.
"Why would I skip that?" I muttered.
But first, I had to survive the entrance exam.
I had four months before it began.
Four months to prepare.
Four months to become strong enough to not die stupidly.
The good news?
I knew the plot.
I knew certain twists—hidden opportunities the hero would never touch because they weren't part of his fate.
Places where I could grow stronger without disrupting the story.
"If something big changes," I said to myself, "like the hero dying… this whole world collapses."
The Abyss wasn't a joke.
So my goal was clear.
Survive.
I would try to play the hero.
Grow stronger quietly.
Stay invisible.
I stood up and looked around the small house.
"This place isn't bad," I murmured. "At least I won't starve before the exam."
But before I left for training, I had one problem.
Someone needed to take care of my house.
Plants.
Mail.
Basic stuff.
Which meant—
"…Guess I need to talk to the neighbor."
I rubbed my face and sighed.
"This is where things get annoying."
That was the moment my fate quietly diverged from the original story.
Not with a sword.
Not with magic.
But with a decision.
I wasn't going to be a hero.
I was going to be a survivor.