The Extra Who Inherited Ragnarok
Chapter 1: Three Days Until Death

Chapter 1: Three Days Until Death

Pain.

That was the first thing Noah felt.

A sharp ache pulsed through his skull as consciousness returned, as though someone had driven a nail straight into his brain.

He groaned and slowly sat up.

The room around him was unfamiliar.

A cramped dormitory illuminated by pale morning light. Wooden walls. A narrow bed. A desk covered with books.

Noah frowned.

His apartment wasn’t supposed to look like this.

The last thing he remembered was crossing a street while reading on his phone.

Then—

A blinding light.

Screeching tires.

Impact.

Silence.

"What the fuck..."

His voice sounded wrong.

Lower.

Rougher.

Noah froze.

Slowly, he turned toward the cracked mirror hanging on the wall.

The reflection staring back wasn’t his.

Black hair.

Pale skin.

Sharp gray eyes.

A face he had never seen before.

For several seconds, his mind refused to process what he was seeing.

Then memories exploded inside his head.

Countless foreign memories flooded his consciousness.

Names.

Places.

Events.

People.

The academy.

The Empire.

The dungeons.

The gods.

The novel.

The realization hit him like a hammer.

"No way..."

His face drained of color.

"No fucking way."

He stumbled backward and crashed into the chair.

Because he recognized this face.

Noah Blackwood.

A character from the fantasy webnovel he had been reading before his death.

Not the protagonist.

Not the villain.

Not even a supporting character.

An extra.

A nobody.

A background character so insignificant that most readers probably forgot his existence entirely.

Including Noah himself.

At least until he remembered how the character died.

His breathing stopped.

The memory surfaced instantly.

Academy Entrance Examination.

Monster Outbreak.

Casualties.

Noah Blackwood.

Dead.

The scene appeared vividly in his mind.

Blood.

Screams.

Panic.

The original Noah had been torn apart by a monster during the examination.

No heroic sacrifice.

No final stand.

No emotional farewell.

Just another corpse.

A meaningless death.

The story never mentioned him again.

The protagonist continued his journey.

The heroines continued theirs.

The world moved on.

Noah Blackwood simply disappeared.

As though he had never existed.

"Fuck..."

The word escaped his lips.

He suddenly stood up and rushed toward the desk.

The calendar.

His eyes locked onto the date.

His heart nearly stopped.

The date matched perfectly.

Three days before the academy examination.

Three days before the monster outbreak.

Three days before his death.

"No."

His voice shook.

"No, no, no..."

This wasn’t happening.

It couldn’t be happening.

Yet every piece of evidence screamed otherwise.

The room.

The memories.

The date.

Everything matched.

His hands trembled.

Three days.

Three fucking days.

That was all he had.

Three days before he was ripped apart by a monster.

Three days before he died a meaningless death.

His chest tightened.

Fear clawed at his throat.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Noah understood the reality of his situation.

This wasn’t a novel anymore.

This was real.

If he died here—

He died.

There would be no second chance.

No miracle.

No restart.

Just death.

A sudden chill swept across the room.

Noah froze.

The air felt different.

Heavy.

Oppressive.

Almost unnatural.

Then it appeared.

A crimson screen materialized before his eyes.

His pupils contracted.

"What the hell...?"

The glowing letters slowly formed.

Blood-red.

Ancient.

Terrifying.

Noah stared.

The message contained only a few words.

Yet those words nearly stopped his heart.

[Death Countdown Activated]

For a moment, silence filled the room.

Then numbers appeared beneath the message.

[72:00:00]

The timer immediately began decreasing.

[71:59:59]

[71:59:58]

[71:59:57]

Noah’s face went white.

The countdown continued.

Merciless.

Unstoppable.

Like fate itself.

Waiting for the moment he died.

And somewhere beyond the academy...

Something was already coming.

Something that should not have awakened for another three days.

Something that hungered.

Something that knew his name.