I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra Chapter 14

I was stretching my sore body when I heard a noise next door, in the room adjacent to where I trained.

Swoosh!

At the sound of another swoosh, I couldn't resist the temptation. I quietly walked to the transparent glass door that divided the training rooms and snuck a peek inside.

"Cypher. It has to be him," I thought to myself. He was the only one with a reputation for being utterly obsessed with training, always pushing himself to new heights.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

Through the transparent glass door, I caught a glimpse of Cypher in action. His movents were fluid and precise, each swing of his sword cutting through the air with a fierce intensity. The shock waves rippled in the space around him. He pivoted effortlessly, transitioning from one stance to another, as if dancing with the shadows.

I leaned closer, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene. Cypher was dressed in a fitted training outfit, dark fabric clinging to his athletic fra. Sweat glistened on his brow, glimring in the ambient light. I could see the focus etched in his features, a deep concentration that suggested he was lost in his own world.

As he pivoted, transitioning seamlessly from one stance to another, the air crackled with intensity, and I couldn't help but admire him. He was everything I had written him to be: strong, focused, and undeniably cool.

Suddenly, he paused, sensing sothing in the air. I froze, my heart racing as I hoped he wouldn't look this way. After a mont, he resud his movents. With a sigh of relief, I took a step back, deciding I had intruded long enough.

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Remillia's Dorm

As soon as I unlocked my room, an unexpected chaos erupted. A crying owl suddenly smashed into my face, its tiny talons gripping my head with surprising strength. I stumbled slightly but caught my balance just in ti.

"Master! Huhuhu! Where were you? I'm scared of being alone here! Did you know that I was also hungry? Where's my food, master?" The frantic owl's voice echoed in my mind, a lodious mix of desperation and determination.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. 'This crazy owl,' I thought. 'I shouldn't have nad him Macaron if he was this dramatic.'

My hand reached up instinctively to pry the feathery ball off my head, but Macaron clung on tighter, refusing to let go.

"Mmmph! Gyet ougf off gh!" (Get off of !) I grumbled, attempting to shake him loose with no success. I can't say the words clearly since his body is covering my mouth.

His bright yellow eyes stared back at , wide with worry, as he flapped his little wings in a futile effort to maintain his grip. "I missed you! You can't just leave here all alone!" he wailed, the anxiety in his tone barely masked by a desperate need for affection.

I almost lost my patience and felt the urge to throw him across the room. The little guy was adorable, but right now, he was just too much.

Finally, I managed to dislodge him from my face and shot him a glare that could send chills down the bravest of hearts.

"Hiik! Master, why do you look like that? Why do you look like you were chased by monsters?" he whimpered, blinking up at innocently.

"It's your fault, you crazy owl!" I exclaid, though my irritation began to fade when I saw how he fluffed up in response.

With a sigh of exasperation, I placed him down and dashed into the bathroom.

As I stood in front of the mirror, I was t with a nightmarish sight. My hair was a tangled ss, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, and my face was covered in feathers from the little chaos-maker. I looked like a deranged woman straight out of a horror movie.

I hurriedly splashed water on my face, scrubbing away the remnants of sleep and confusion. After a few minutes, I felt a bit more human again. I took a deep breath, ready to face whatever the day threw at .

As I opened the bathroom door, I was greeted by Macaron waiting eagerly, his little wings fluttering like a puppy excited for its owner to return.

"Macaron, not now. I'm tired and I've only had three hours of sleep," I groaned, rubbing my temples in frustration.

"Wait, master! There's a notification for you," he chirped, suddenly animated, which caught my attention.

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, curious despite my fatigue.

I focused on the flickering system window that appeared in my vision, feeling a flicker of excitent.

[Frequent training increased your Gift's ability by 5%]

[You've been affected by Luck! Perception and Speed increased by 3!]

I looked at Macaron, who was still cuddling beside , his eyes wider than the moon as he watched closely.

"Can you make food first? I'm hungry," he chirped, his little beak opening wide with eagerness.

"Oh, yeah. What do owls eat anyway?" I asked, half-joking, still slightly groggy from barely any sleep.

"I'm okay with human food! I'm a pet created by the system, so I'm okay with anything!" he proclaid, puffing out his chest with pride.

I raised an eyebrow, uncertain. "If you say so..." I said, shaking my head with a chuckle.

I trudged into the kitchen, where the refrigerator was bursting with a variety of ingredients from ats to vegetables.

Nice.'

I grabbed a pack of ham, bacon, cheese, tomato, and lettuce. I opened a cabinet and pulled out a few loaves of bread. Macaron perched on the kitchen counter, staring at in amazent, his little head tilting as I rummaged around.

After a mont of scouring the kitchen, I found a pan and placed it on the stove, cranking the heat. First, I cooked the ham and bacon, their savory scents wafting through the air. I set them aside, letting them sizzle tantalizingly on a plate.

Next, I toasted three slices of bread to a perfect golden brown. I spread a thin layer of cheddar on both sides of each slice because, hey, everything is better with cheese, right?

I spread mayonnaise on one side of the first slice of bread, then topped it with crisp lettuce and fresh tomato slices. A light sprinkle of salt and pepper. I layered on the crispy bacon, feeling like a master chef.

For the second slice, I spread mayo on both sides before placing it down atop the bacon. I topped it with cheddar and then the savory ham. Finally, I spread mayo on one side of the last slice and placed it on top, mayo side down, creating the ultimate clubhouse sandwich.

I secured it with toothpicks and cut it into four neat triangles. Proud of my culinary creation, I placed it on a plate and set it in front of Macaron.

"Wow, master!" he exclaid, flapping his wings with delight as he took a big bite of the sandwich.

I couldn't help but smile, watching him enjoy the al I had prepared. He truly was a delight despite his craziness.

With Macaron occupied, I turned to the kitchen and started the mundane task of cleaning up and washing the dishes, my mind wandering as I worked. The rhythm of the water and the clinking of dishes sohow soothed , easing the remnants of stress from earlier.

A glance at the clock told it was already 4:58 A.M. "Hey Macaron, wake up at 8 A.M.," I called out, wiping down the last plate.

"Okay!" he responded between mouthfuls, clearly still focused on the rest of the sandwich.

I made my way to the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I could barely keep my eyes open. I felt myself being pulled into the depths of sleep within monts, surrendering to the warmth of the blankets.

But before I completely drifted away, I could hear the soft sound of Macaron's cheery clapping as he finished the last bite, punctuated by the soft cooing sounds of a happy little owl competing with the onset of dreams.

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"...Master, wake up! It's already 8 A.M. You're gonna be late for school!" Macaron squawked, his voice echoing in the stillness of the morning.

"...Master!" he insisted again with a frantic tone that cut through my dreams.

With my eyes still shut and groggy, my hand reached out to the bedside table, blindly groping for the source of the noise. Finally, I smacked the annoying alarm clock.

Pak!

A mont of blissful silence filled the air, and I smiled, sinking back into the comfort of the blankets.

But Macaron was not having any of it. As I lay there, he seethed with indignation, eyes narrowing as he gazed at his master. "Hmph! You want to play rough, huh? I'll give you rough!"

Before I could comprehend what was happening, he swiftly positioned himself on my chest, and with a swift flap of his wings, he began to slap them against my face with fervor, shouting, "MASTER, THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! I'M SORRY!"

Inside, he was practically cackling like a villain in a cartoon, relishing the chaos he was causing. "That's what you get for smacking ," he thought triumphantly.

Finally, I shot up, pushing Macaron away from , but instead of landing on the ground, he just flew back up, his little wings flapping triumphantly.

"Argh! What was that for?" I shouted, still reeling from the unexpected wake-up call.

"You started it first! You said to wake you up, then you smack in the face?!" Macaron retorted, flapping his wings indignantly and hovering just out of reach.

"Okay, I'm sorry! What ti is it, anyway?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

"8:10..." Macaron replied, his tone both annoyed and victorious.

I scrambled out of bed and dashed toward the bathroom, urgency propelling forward. After a quick shower, I threw on my school uniform and hurriedly grabbed my bag.

As I approached the door, sothing hit . "Wait!" I exclaid and dashed to the kitchen.

I quickly buttered two slices of bread with peanut butter, making one for myself and the other for Macaron.

"Hey Macaron! If you ever get hungry, I've put a peanut butter loaf on the table. I've put a lid cover on it—just pull it up," I called out, already grabbing my own piece of bread.

"Yayy! Thanks, master!" he squeaked, excitent written all over his adorable little face.

With the taste of peanut butter lingering in my mouth and a sense of urgency kicking in, I ran out the door as fast as I could, my backpack bouncing with each step.