How to Survive as a Trash Extra Villain

Chapter 111

"…Ha."

Anger surged ahead of fear.

"…Insolent…!"

Regardless of my earlier power analysis calculations, my pathetic instincts flared with rage. I could be looked down upon by anyone else, but not by Gilbert.

As I stepped onto Arena 10, Gilbert stared straight at me. The atmosphere was so menacing, it was nothing like the gentle image he had in the original story.

But I glared back, pouring every ounce of displeasure I could muster into my gaze.

There was nothing more to say. We just stared silently, steeling our resolve.

"…"

"…"

Since the match was still being prepared, there was no referee, and the spectators’ attention was momentarily drawn to other arenas.

Even so, we locked eyes, refusing to give an inch.

"I’ve been waiting for this moment."

Gilbert spoke first.

I meant to ignore him, but my burning emotions forced words out of me against my will.

"Waiting? We’re quite different, then. I begrudge even a second spent on you, Gilbert."

"I wanted to talk to you."

"I don’t."

"Then just listen. That’s enough."

Truthfully, I could roughly guess what he’d say. Despite appearances, I’ve outlined dozens of novels.

Gilbert’s explosive growth must have a reason. The overcoming of trials befitting a protagonist, followed by an awakening.

If so, the sacrificial lamb in that process would be me, the villain.

"Cadet Martin von Targon Ulvhadin."

Gilbert drew his sword with a shing. Not a practice weapon, but a real blade.

"That day, it was you who defused the bomb in the grand plaza, wasn’t it?"

That incident was already over. What more did he want to say?

"I couldn’t save anyone, but you chose to save even a few. Maybe your judgment was right. I bet everything on a slim possibility and ultimately failed."

The Marquis Vistavern incident was the author’s setup to trigger the protagonist’s awakening. A so-called destined failure, no matter what.

"I couldn’t take responsibility for my actions. I was just a naive kid who wanted to. Like you said, I’ve never experienced that disaster, only heard about it through words, wearing a hollow crown. And yet, I’m just a fool chasing the dream of saving everyone."

Gilbert had never experienced the 6th-grade Time Chaos Dungeon that destroyed the Cosmos Empire. But his grandmother, who barely escaped the apocalypse, gave birth to a daughter, who grew up and bore Gilbert.

Her experiences were passed down through oral tradition, and Gilbert inherited that legacy.

His unyielding heroism, refusing to bow under any circumstance, was closer to a ‘habit’ formed from the stories his grandmother and mother told him since childhood.

However.

Countless failures turned that heroism from a habit… into his very nature.

"I couldn’t even save those who could’ve been saved in the bombing. That day’s despair undoubtedly seeped into my bones."

A palpable aura began to rise from Gilbert’s entire body.

"But I don’t regret it."

It was unmistakably different from what he’d shown against past opponents—his ultimate power.

Even when fighting Elisha, his seniors, or Prince Kazaks, he’d held back this final strength for this moment.

"I’ll keep choosing the path to save everyone. No matter how hard it is, my heart to save all will never waver."

I knew how Gilbert’s story ended. In an ending where 99.9% of humanity perished, only the protagonist and a few others survived.

Not everyone died, as per his minimal wish. The bonds he cherished survived, and enough people remained for humanity to thrive again on the earth.

Through his desperate efforts to achieve the ‘best’ outcome of saving everyone, he at least reached the ‘next best’ of protecting those close to him.

In the end, his efforts weren’t in vain. He deserved some praise.

But.

"Shut up."

Why was he shoving those emotions at me?

"You can’t even handle your own actions, yet you dare speak of saving everyone?"

During the Marquis Vistavern incident, Gilbert, who failed to save everyone, blamed me and even pointed his sword at me.

"You’re right, Cadet Martin. I agonized over it during the break. I writhed in self-loathing over my actions."

And that led to this. A monstrous growth surpassing the original story.

"I’m saying this to you as both a declaration of war and a vow to myself. I will save everyone. I’ll become strong enough to make that possible. With overwhelming power to overcome everything standing in my way!"

In the end, just like that day, the tip of Gilbert’s sword pointed at me.

"Cadet Martin. I’m sorry about that day. My immaturity caused you trouble. No matter what you say, I have no excuse."

He was shining brilliantly.

"But I won’t back down from the choice to save everyone! I won’t regret it! Even if I went back to that day, I’d head to the marquisate again!"

That’s what a hero who rises from despair does.

"There’ll never be a me who turns my back on everyone. I won’t give up! I’ll make the world give up before I do! And someday, I’ll make you understand! I’ll make you choose to save everyone with me!"

Ah… really.

He’s truly… a cool guy.

A guy who shines like the sun.

A person who doesn’t falter in any hardship, and even if he does, rises again, overcoming all trials with an indomitable spirit to ultimately seize victory.

A person destined to do so. The protagonist.

Ha, I, a mere author, couldn’t even become a proper villain, just a trash extra.

"You fool… every word you spew is like a child’s impossible fantasy."

That’s why I hate you.

"Save everyone? Get stronger? Convince me? Ha!"

I can’t bring myself to like you.

"How long will you stay lost in childish delusions? Even after all that, you’re pathetic for still thinking that way."

I envied Gilbert.

His tremendous growth, achieved alone without a system or mentor, rising from failure. His talent, his blinding brilliance—I envied it all.

Just like I envied Recola.

I’m an extra. I despise you protagonists to death.

"Cadet Martin, I…!"

"Shut your mouth!"

I drew my shotgun and loaded a round. Standard, piercing, scatter, various magic rounds, and the diamond bullet.

"I don’t care what happens to this false world. Whether some survive or all perish! But I really, truly hate guys like you…!"

My eyes were bloodshot, my teeth gritted.

"How can you just stand up like nothing after such a failure? How do you get so strong like it’s magic?! Is it because of your damned lineage? Or is this some fate’s design?!"

Click, the chamber opened, and a magic round was loaded.

"Just disappear from my sight…!"

Crushed by Recola’s immense talent, I died. Sucked dry by the succubus called a scenario he handed me, I was possessed by a bullet.

But Gilbert, younger than me… rises from failure. Succeeds spectacularly. Leads everyone.

His sun-like brilliance—I’m so, so, so, so… jealous.

"Get out of my sight, I beg you!"

Gilbert’s eyes widened. And as if realizing something, he looked at me.

"You’re hurt too."

The moment he said that, I was terrified. Afraid my inner fears, my pathetic nature, my weaknesses, my hidden immaturity had been exposed.

But more than that, the pity in his eyes—I hated it so much. I couldn’t bear it.

Before the referee’s signal.

Before the spectators’ gaze.

Cutting through the clashing of swords around us.

A gunshot rang out.

***

The Cadet Duel Assessment was an event of undeniable importance. Like a college entrance exam that overshadows even the worst grades.

As such, the academy’s faculty stepped up to supervise.

There could be no cheating in the Cadet Duel Assessment. The supervisors’ goal was to prevent injuries or deaths from overheated duels between cadets.

"Hm? Over there…"

Hailey looked at Arena 10, where Gilbert stood, with startled eyes. She noticed a cadet climbing up. It was Martin.

She was perceptive. How could she miss the murderous tension between the two?

"If only everyone’s hearts were like fields of flowers."

She wished no one would fight. That they’d communicate through words and look at each other with love and tolerance.

…An impossible story.

"If I could be a good teacher, if I could stop them."

But all she gained was the realization of her own inadequacy.

Look at the reality where she accomplished nothing.

The two were still in a cold war and finally met in the duel arena.

"Teacher, we need to stop them. Arena 10. Please halt the match between Gilbert and Martin."

Hailey turned to the side as she spoke. Beside her, Teacher Hectia stared silently at Arena 10.

"Teacher Hectia?"

"…That’s not possible."

"What?"

To Hectia, Gilbert and Martin were… enigmas. She couldn’t gauge their true strength, as they hid so much.

Even so, based on her estimation of their capabilities, Martin was no match for Gilbert.

"Unless he unleashes the power he showed against the demon count. Or at the very least, transforms into the princess’s black knight."

Having followed Princess Adela under the current emperor’s orders, Hectia knew Martin was the famed black knight of the princess.

She also knew Princess Adela had allied with the Elidore Marquisate to control the academy’s vice principal and faculty.

"Princess Adela… aren’t you going to stop this?"

Hectia turned to glare at the waiting room, invisible from the outside. The princess was likely there, under the ironclad protection of the Shadow Knights, watching Martin.

Lately… whenever Hectia met Princess Adela, she heard about Martin. Frequently. Relentlessly. No matter the topic, Adela’s conversations always circled back to Martin. So, Hectia assumed she’d intervene.

She turned back to focus on the arena. She had to stay alert, not missing a single moment, as anything could happen.

"Why, why can’t we stop it? You know, don’t you? Cadet Gilbert and Cadet Martin don’t get along. If something goes wrong…"

"It’s fine. If it comes to it, I’ll…"

It wasn’t empty bravado. As a platinum knight, her words carried more weight than gems of equal measure.

But it wasn’t possible. Hectia checked the emergency line. A message from the princess had arrived.

"This is…?"

Just before she could read it, her hope that nothing would happen was shattered by a negative turn of events. Gilbert drew his sword. The aura emanating from him started small but grew, taking shape, swelling until it felt like a soaring dragon. Hectia couldn’t believe her eyes.

"That level?! In terms of mana alone, he’s practically on par with a gold knight!"

It wasn’t a level a mere cadet, let alone a first-year, should possess!

The two seemed to exchange heated words.

Soon, Martin drew his gun. Unlike Gilbert’s tempestuous aura, the moment he loaded a round into the chamber, Hectia felt a stinging murderous intent.

Both were serious.

"Those two…!"

Still, she thought they’d stay within bounds. The match hadn’t officially started, and the referee hadn’t even intervened.

She was mistaken.

That expectation shattered with the sound of a gunshot.