My Skills Have No Limits : Transmigirated In A Novel as An Extra Chapter 13: The Warren Paradox

"Warren..."

Oliver spoke as he approached Aziel, who leaned against the wall, sipping on a glass of red liquid.

"That’s what he tells his na is."

"What about his last na, did you ask about it?"

He interrogated, shaking his glass of minerals profusely as if doing so would help recover the taste. The liquid swirled violently inside.

"Yeah I tried, but as soon as I did he attempted to get into a fight with , I barely escaped."

Oliver blurted out, his fingers pointing backward from where he had erged.

His voice cracked slightly, a blend of frustration and disbelief, making it clear he hadn’t expected such hostility in a place filled with music and laughter.

Laughter erupted sowhere behind him, the cheer of a dice ga echoing briefly before fading back into the general hum of the hall.

Aziel nodded his head as if assessing the situation, his gaze following an old man in modern wear who appeared to stand oddly still amidst the flow of the crowd.

Wait.

O old man?

Aziel blinked, shook his head to confirm he hadn’t finally gone mad, but when he looked again, the figure was gone, replaced by a waiter weaving through the crowd with a tray of glasses.

The silver tray caught the light and blinded him for a second, making him question whether he’d actually seen anyone at all.

"That’s horrible for you, anyways what about the others? Tried talking with others?"

"Yes, of course I did but most of them refused to acknowledge my presence. I felt like a log of wood trying to strike up a conversation with a lone traveller, and the worst of all... So just kept their mouth etched with that irritating grin as if they were involved in so shady plan."

He practically scread, moving his hands around to better explain himself.

His movents drew a few curious stares, though most quickly looked away as if nothing unusual had happened.

"Woah, you sure have a knack for noticing cues, might as well make you my sidekick if you stick around for a decent ti."

Aziel comnted, but Oliver didn’t respond and simply stood beside him.

No one should have been hesitant to talk with him.

No one ever had been.

After all, he had built his personality specifically for that.

loud enough to be heard.

Friendly enough to be liked, quick enough to turn dull silence into banter.

But the first act of ignorance toward him wounded his pride more than he cared to admit, and though he wouldn’t say it aloud...

It simred inside him.

After what felt like a long stretch of silence, he pushed Aziel forward.

"Now it’s your turn to stir so friend alchemy in the party."

He grinned, his previous dour mood lasting only that long, as he caught the glass which had slipped from Aziel’s hand before it hit the ground.

Aziel awkwardly stepped into the area where the crowd was the most dense and randomly placed a hand on soone’s shoulder.

"Hey man, what’s up. I spotted you dancing like a pro over there. I’ve been trying to learn myself would be cool if you dropped your na."

The boy with slick blonde hair and hazel eyes smirked, wearing it like a badge of superiority, and spoke in a rigid tone.

"The na is Warren..."

The voice rang in Aziel’s ears, and a wave of familiarity washed over him, like hearing an echo from a mory he didn’t quite rember.

"Wait... by any chance, did you run into so dumb boy going around picking trouble asking everyone for their nas?"

He interrogated, his gaze locked onto Warren’s.

"No, I didn’t. Spit it out what’s the matter?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably in his freshly tailored suit, tugging slightly at his collar as if it suddenly felt too tight.

"Nothing. Just wanted to say there’s a guy wandering around picking fights. Be cautious."

Warren nodded slowly, but before Aziel could ask another question, the boy was pulled back into the crowd by another hand and disappeared.

His absence left a strange emptiness, as though he had been nothing more than a shadow that slipped away.

He sighed, then made his way back toward Oliver.

Oliver’s face held no particular expression.

Not a grin.

Not glad.

He must’ve expected to fail.

"Can you recall what that Warren guy you t looked like?" Aziel asked, raising both hands in a subtle gesture of defeat.

Oliver scratched the side of his neck with his hand, dragging it down slowly. Damn. He even thinks dramatically.

"I don’t rember his face accuratel"

"Terrible mory. You should just die."

Aziel cut him off, leaving Oliver’s face twisted in confusion, unable to comprehend why anyone would say that.

"He had orange eyes and hazel-colored hair, slicked back... that’s as far as I rember."

"Guess what? I also ran into soone nad Warren."

Oliver’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"Oh really...?" he exclaid, leaning closer.

Then, just as suddenly, his face went neutral again.

"That’s how I should react to your discovery, right?"

He grinned, clearly thinking he’d just pulled the joke of the century.

"I don’t know, maybe you should just follow the damn script," I countered, slamming my fist against his tal-solid head.

"The Warren I ran into had blonde hair... and hazel eyes."

Oliver blinked, caught off guard this ti. His grin faltered, replaced with a crease between his brows.

"Hold up... you’re saying your Warren had blonde hair and hazel eyes too?"

He scratched the back of his head, his tone shifting from playful to uneasy.

"Aziel... what’re the chances of both of us running into soone nad Warren, looking almost the sa, in this one damn party?"

The weight of his words lingered in the air, drowning out the nearby chatter and laughter for just a mont.

Aziel scoffed, swirling the red liquid in his glass.

"Oh, I don’t know, Oliver... maybe the universe ran out of nas and decided to recycle Warren for the night."

He glanced sideways, his smirk fading into sothing tighter.

"But..." his eyes narrowed, scanning the crowd, "if they look that alike... then maybe it’s not just a coincidence."

Before Oliver could respond, both of them froze.

Their nas Aziel and Oliver rang out from the stage, clear and crisp through the speakers.

The host’s booming voice carried across the hall.

"Would our two new cadets kindly step forward?"

Oliver’s jaw went slack. "Wait... did he just...? That was our nas, right? I’m not hallucinating?"

But what unsettled them more wasn’t the call itself.

It was the way the crowd reacted.

Every head turned toward the stage, eyes fixed solely on the host... as if the announcent had nothing to do with the two of them standing in the middle of the room.

Not a single gaze lingered their way.