I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra Chapter 327

Her eyes sharpened. "...That symbol..."

— Yeah, noticed it?

Matthew’s voice returned.

— That’s the key. Every single one of those incidents has that mark sowhere in the scene. That ans... the Nightjars are active again.

Whitney leaned back slowly, crossing her arms. "If they’re active again..." she murmured, "then that ans—"

— They have a new leader.

Matthew finished her sentence.

The room fell quiet for a mont.

Whitney crossed her arms, her brows furrowed in thought. "Then who is it?" she asked.

Matthew let out a breath.

— I don’t know.

"But—!" he added quickly, grinning slightly. "This is where your so-called friend cos in."

Whitney’s eyes narrowed instantly. "So-called? We’re actually friends."

— Yeah, yeah, sure.

He waved it off dismissively.

— Anyway, rember what I told you? About how she ended up in that orphanage?

Her expression turned serious again.

— The person who dropped her off at that orphanage... was a young boy, right?

"...Yeah."

—I’m almost one hundred percent sure that boy is connected to the Nightjars.

Whitney’s gaze darkened. "...Connected how?"

Matthew didn’t hesitate.

— A mber.

"...You’re saying—"

— Sooner or later, your friend will soon co looking for the Nightjars.

She exhaled slowly, then looked back up at the screen. "If things are as you say..." she muttered, her voice softening. "...then it’s really complicated."

— It is. Remillia is just a small rabbit compared to these experienced hunters.

Whitney’s brows furrowed slightly.

"Hunters?" she repeated. "You an the Nightjars?"

Matthew didn’t answer imdiately and smirked.

The kind of smirk that Whitney hated.

The kind that ant he was about to say sothing far more unsettling than helpful.

— My dear niece... think about it.

He leaned forward, resting his chin against his hand, eyes gleaming with amusent.

— The family Jozef tried so hard to wipe out... had one survivor left.

Whitney’s gaze sharpened.

— And that survivor managed to live this long.

He chuckled under his breath.

— Don’t you find that interesting?

Whitney’s expression didn’t change.

"Cut the chase, uncle," she said flatly, a hint of irritation slipping into her tone.

Matthew sighed dramatically.

— You’re no fun.

Then, just as quickly, his expression shifted.

— Revenge.

Whitney didn’t react outwardly but her fingers curled slightly.

— Sweet, satisfying revenge.

Matthew smiled faintly.

— Remillia will have hers.

Whitney’s eyes flickered.

— And when that happens...

He leaned back again, folding his arms.

— With her on our side... taking down Jozef will be easy.

Whitney stared at the screen, but her thoughts were no longer there.

Co to think of it...

He wasn’t wrong.

If Remillia stood with them then everything would change.

They wouldn’t have to crawl anymore.

Wouldn’t have to obey.

And wouldn’t have to live like hunting dogs only following orders, scared if they’re no longer deed useful and discarded like trash.

— Oh, but wait.

Matthew suddenly snapped his fingers like he had just rembered sothing trivial.

— I missed one tiny detail.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

— You’re also friends with Jozef’s granddaughter, right?

Whitney stilled. "...That’s right," she answered.

Matthew humd then tilted his head slightly, studying her.

— So...

His voice dropped.

— If the day cos...

Whitney’s chest tightened—just barely.

— ...when you have to bare your fangs at our dear master...

The room felt colder.

— Who will you choose?

A pause.

— Angela?

Another beat.

— Or Remillia?

Whitney couldn’t answer.

Matthew burst out laughing like a patient that escaped from a ntal asylum.

— HAHAHAHA!

Whitney flinched slightly, her expression darkening.

— This is just like one of those telenovelas I’ve been watching!

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling.

— Drama! Betrayal! Impossible choices!

Whitney clenched her fists. "Stop treating this like a joke."

But he didn’t.

He never did.

— Careful with your choice, dear niece...

His voice softened, but the amusent never left.

— Because when that day cos...

His gaze locked onto hers through the screen.

— You won’t be able to choose both.

The call didn’t end but the conversation did.

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

Nightjars’ Hideout, Ga Room

The room was lit by the glow of multiple screens suspended in midair. Data streams, intercepted calls, fragnts of conversations—everything flickered briefly before one by one, they shut down.

Click.

Gula leaned back in her chair, eyes lingering on the largest screen in front of her. The reflection staring back at her looked unusually... thoughtful.

"...What an interesting story," she murmured.

A ripple distorted the air beside her.

Then—

Hakaba appeared, stretching his round body lazily as if he had just woken up from a long nap rather than finishing a mission that could’ve easily gotten him killed.

Without hesitation, he flopped down and rested his body on her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"My mission’s done," he said, voice muffled. "And I’m not going back to that place ever again."

Gula barely reacted, her fingers absentmindedly brushing through his fur, her mind running elsewhere.

"...What do you think, Hakaba?" she asked quietly. "Should I tell this information to the others?"

Hakaba cracked one eye open, glancing up at her.

He didn’t need to answer because he already knew what kind of information she was talking about.

Remillia.

In the past, Kairos and Thorne had tried everything—information guilds, spies, backdoor deals—just to uncover her past.

And every single attempt?

Failure.

Like her history had been wiped... or buried so deep that no one could reach it.

That’s why Gula had taken matters into her own hands. She sent Hakaba quietly without anyone else knowing.

And sohow, instead of scraps...

He ca back with a treasure chest.

Hakaba huffed lightly. "You’re asking like you don’t already have an answer."

Gula smiled faintly then, after a long pause, she shook her head. "No."

Hakaba’s brow lifted slightly. "You sure?"

"Everything they said..." Gula glanced at the dark screen again, recalling every word she had just heard. "...they’re all just speculations."

Her voice remained calm.

"Telling Boss or big sis about it will only cause problems."

That was the truth.

Or at least—

The version of the truth she chose to believe.

Hakaba shifted slightly on her lap, now fully awake as he studied her expression. "You don’t want them to fight," he stated simply.

Her fingers stilled for a mont before she resud lightly brushing his fur again.

"Big Sis..." she whispered softly, a faint smile forming as her gaze softened. "She was the first one to give sothing I truly liked."

Her eyes drifted around the room. The gaming setup, the screens, the entire space.

"This whole gaming room... she made it just for ," her fingers brushed lightly against the controller in her hand. "...She didn’t have to. But she did."

Her hand paused again. "And Boss..." she continued, softer now, almost like she was speaking to herself,

"...He was the only one who took in." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Even after my own parents threw away like I was nothing."

Hakaba closed his eyes again, letting out a quiet sigh. "Suit yourself," he muttered. "Less trouble for ."

Within seconds, he drifted back to sleep, leaving Gula alone with her thoughts.

"But if everything is true..."

Her gaze slowly returned to the dark screen, as if she could still see the fragnts of information playing over and over again.

Matthew’s voice and Whitney’s reactions.

That one important detail she couldn’t ignore.

The young boy who dropped a baby off at an orphanage.

Her fingers curled slightly. A slow, uneasy feeling crept into her chest. "...If that boy really was Boss..."

Her throat tightened.

"And big sis was the baby..."

Her breathing slowed, almost like she didn’t want to continue but she did because she couldn’t just ignore it.

"...Then..."

Her hand clenched slightly against Hakaba’s body.

"...does that an..."

Her voice trembled.

"...Boss was the one who killed big sis’ parents?"

Silence.

Just the quiet hum of machines and the soft, steady breathing of the monster resting on her lap.

Gula stared ahead, unmoving.

Because for the first ti, she didn’t want the truth.

Not if it ant breaking the only two people who gave her a place to belong.