I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra Chapter 292

Abyss’ 45th ranked private organization "Hell Hounds"

Hell Hounds executive, Gloo, kept wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, his hand trembling no matter how many tis he tried to steady it. His suit clung uncomfortably to his back, damp and heavy, as if the Abyss itself was pressing down on him. He had completely lost track of where he was.

The only thing anchoring his sanity was the small figure walking several steps ahead of him.

A little girl.

He focused entirely on following her footsteps, terrified of straying even a single step off the path she carved through the darkness.

"You know," the girl said casually, swinging her arms as she walked, "Hakaba would’ve ripped you to shreds already if Big Sis didn’t still need you."

Her tone was light. Cheerful, even.

Gloo gulped, his throat dry. His Adam’s apple bobbed painfully as fear crawled up his spine.

"I—I’m honored," he stamred, not even sure who Hakaba was but instinctively knowing it wasn’t a na ant to be spoken lightly.

Ever since this little monster had "t" him—if being seized by the collar and dragged into a spatial distortion could be called eting—all she’d talked about were different ways he could die. So quick. So... horrifyingly creative.

She had even ranked them.

After what felt like an eternity, the girl suddenly stopped.

Gloo nearly crashed into her back.

She turned around and pointed down a long, desolate hallway, her smile bright and innocent, as if she were guiding him to a playground instead of what felt like his execution chamber.

"Here’s our stop, mister!" she chirped.

Gloo swallowed hard and nodded, forcing his stiff legs to move. Each step echoed too loudly, the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence of the corridor. The walls here were bare, cracked stone etched with old runes that pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his presence.

Halfway down the hallway, a chill ran through him.

He turned around.

The girl was gone.

"W–Wait..." His voice cracked.

At the far end of the hallway, there it was—a portal, far more majestic and elegant than any he had ever seen.

Gloo swallowed hard. ’They’re beyond this.’ The ones who had shaken the entire Abyss.

His stomach churned violently, bile creeping up his throat. For the first ti since accepting this task, regret clawed at his chest. Every instinct scread at him to turn back, to run, to abandon everything and disappear into the lower layers.

But it was too late for that.

Gloo clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms until pain grounded him, and stepped forward.

The mont he crossed the threshold, the world collapsed into darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in an unknown space.

There were no walls. No ceiling. No discernible floor—just an endless void drenched in darkness, illuminated only by a dim, ambient glow with no clear source.

"You’re here?"

The voice ca from directly ahead.

Gloo stiffened and looked up.

A man sat casually on a chair that seed to exist independently of the void, its legs resting on nothing. He was leaning back, one elbow propped lazily against the armrest, posture loose—bored, even. He was wearing a mask that covered his whole face, even his eyes are covered.

Despite the relaxed pose, his presence was overwhelming.

Gloo’s lungs seized. "Y–Yes," he said quickly, bowing deeply. "It’s an honor to et you. My na is Gloo."

He had rehearsed this exact mont countless tis. Even so, sweat poured down his temples, soaking his collar. His breathing grew uneven as if the very air rejected him.

’This aura...’

It wasn’t aggressive.

That was what terrified him.

"Where’s the item?" the man asked flatly.

"I-It’s here," Gloo managed to say.

His vision blurred at the edges. The pressure made him dizzy, like his consciousness was being peeled away layer by layer. If he collapsed now, he doubted he’d ever wake up again.

Still, he rembered his training.

With deliberate slowness, Gloo reached into his pocket and retrieved the scroll. The golden surface glead softly as he held it out with both hands. Even as fear gnawed at him, he made sure not to kneel.

The man glanced at the scroll.

Then looked away.

"I won’t be taking it," he said boredly.

Gloo froze.

"...Pardon?" Gloo froze, his mind scrambling to catch up.

"There’s soone else who wants it," the man continued, tone unchanged.

For a split second, panic flared—but Gloo crushed it imdiately. Years in the Abyss had taught him one thing above all else: adapt or die.

"Yes. Understood," he said imdiately, stepping back and lowering his gaze. He remained silent, waiting.

Silence stretched.

Then—

"She’s here," the man said.

Footsteps echoed.

Each step was soft yet every sound sent a spike of dread through Gloo’s spine.

He turned toward the source.

At first, he thought a shadow was moving.

A silhouette detached itself from the darkness, gliding forward. As it drew closer, the shape sharpened into the figure of a woman dressed entirely in black. Her clothes were simple, almost austere, yet they fit her perfectly, as though the darkness itself had tailored them.

Her presence was overwhelming.

"I heard you guys call her Lilium," the masked man said casually. "A fitting na for her, right?"

Gloo didn’t respond.

He couldn’t.

Lilium.

The woman who singlehandedly wiped out entire organizations and hideouts. The woman who had personally assassinated an executive of Poison Fang, the sixth-ranked private organization in Abyss—an act that sent shockwaves through the underworld and caused countless factions to retreat into hiding overnight.

That sa woman was now standing barely a foot away from him.

Gloo felt an icy chill crawl from the soles of his feet straight up to his spine. His instincts scread at him to kneel yet his body was frozen stiff, as if even the act of breathing required her permission.

He knew he had to introduce himself properly.

But his mouth refused to open.

Although her face was obscured by a black mask and a deep hood, her eyes were exposed—and they were terrifying. They weren’t sharp or cruel nor mocking or disdainful.

They were simply empty.

As if she were looking through him, deciding whether he was worth rembering.

"What’s wrong?" the masked man seated on the chair said impatiently. His tone carried mild annoyance, like soone waiting for a late servant. "She’s waiting."

"Y-Yes—!" Gloo jolted as if struck by lightning.

His survival instincts finally overpowered his paralysis. With trembling hands, he stepped forward and extended the scroll, holding it out as respectfully as possible.

"H-Here... here you go," he stamred, his voice cracking despite his efforts to remain composed.

Lilium’s gaze dropped to the scroll.

The golden surface reflected faint light, casting soft glimrs across her gloves. For several long seconds, she did nothing—simply stared.

Those seconds felt like hours.

Gloo’s heart hamred violently in his chest. His ears rang. Sweat dripped from his chin and splashed onto the invisible floor below.

Then she reached out.

Her fingers closed around the scroll.

The mont her hand brushed against his, Gloo felt sothing indescribable. He swallowed hard and instinctively stepped back, lowering his head as he waited for what would co next.

Suddenly, Lilium raised her hand.

Gloo’s thoughts spiraled. ’Did I offend her? Was my posture wrong? Did I breathe too loudly?’

His legs trembled, threatening to give out. He couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. If he was going to die, he would face it—no matter how futile that resolve was.

The raised hand descended.

But instead of pain—

Her palm landed on his shoulder.

It was light. Almost gentle.

She patted him twice.

Tap. Tap.

The motion was casual, almost absentminded—like a superior acknowledging a job well done, or a hunter reassuring a trembling animal that it would be spared.

Gloo’s mind went completely blank.

For a brief, surreal mont, he forgot who he was. Forgot where he stood. Forgot Abyss, the portal, the man, the terror.

All that remained was the unbearable pressure of her presence and the strange, hollow relief that he was still alive.

Then his knees buckled.

His consciousness finally gave way, and his body collapsed limply onto the ground, unconscious before he even realized he was falling.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Ah! Hey—why did he suddenly faint?"

I stared down at the unconscious man sprawled on the floor, then looked back at Kairos with genuine confusion. I had only patted him lightly. Barely any force at all. If anything, I had been trying to be... polite.

Kairos, already rising from the throne, didn’t even spare Gloo a glance. "Never mind him," he said flatly. "Let’s go."

"Huh?" I straightened, still peering at the executive. "Isn’t he... dead?"

"If he were dead, you’d know," Kairos replied as he adjusted his coat. "That one just ran out of courage."

I tilted my head, unconvinced. "That fragile?"

Kairos snorted. "Did you forget how you look to people when you’re in disguise?"

I paused at that.

Before I could respond, Kairos lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. The darkness ahead of them rippled, space folding in on itself like water disturbed by a stone. A familiar portal blood open—jagged shadows lining its edges, the faint hum of compressed mana echoing softly.

I glanced back one last ti at the unconscious Gloo. "...He’ll live, right?"

"He’ll wake up with a lifelong trauma and a renewed respect for life," Kairos said dryly. "That’s rcy by Abyss standards."

I let out a small, awkward laugh. "Right..."

We stepped into the portal together.