"A bloody extra."
The appearance in the pond was the same as he had back before Max had transmigrated. The only difference was he mysteriously looked, according to Max's words, "just a little more handsome."
He was an extra.
Not a background character, but a true extra.
Someone who hadn't existed in the original novel at all.
After all, the clothing he wore at this moment was not something that should be present in this world. Though since this traditional fantasy world was like an isekai, there existed clothing and many other things that could be considered 'questionable' for the times.
Hold on.
Max pressed his palm against his temple, focusing inward. He wasn't searching through his memories of Earth now, but feeling for information about this world and memories that hadn't been his until moments ago.
"…Dull."
The word escaped as a disappointed sigh as he made his way towards the academy.
Max Draeven of this world was painfully ordinary.
He was a commoner with zero remarkable qualities. He had no family, surviving by hopping between odd jobs. Some random baron had apparently taken pity on him and arranged his admission to the academy.
That was it.
His entire backstory.
As for his parents? They'd died from starvation, failing to put the food on the table.
He could barely remember it…
I guess I do have a small setting? There isn't going to be a secret twist to this, right? Too many authors give the so-called 'extras' some hidden importance which honestly invalidates the idea of what an extra should be.
At least as things stood, he seemed to be a genuinely unremarkable extra. Just as he should be.
He tested his powers, reaching inside himself for whatever energy this world might have granted him. A faint pulse stirred within, suggesting some minimal magical or aura potential.
The sensation felt bizarrely familiar yet foreign, like finding a new muscle you never knew you had.
Well, at least the author was kind enough not to make me the typical biggest loser.
Comparing his situation with what he knew of the novel, he knew that he was basically more or less trash.
On a more positive note, he recalled that only a third of the main cast had died in the original story, along with various named characters who weren't lucky enough to have plot armor.
Relatively speaking, this was much better than other novels.
Doesn't sound that bad… Except I'm a bloody extra.
Caught between two world-annihilating forces—one being the Demon King and another soon to be equally strong force known as the Undead Sovereign—Max was naturally heading towards joining the body count of nobodies.
The only reason the casualty rate among important characters wasn't higher was likely to appease readers, combined with the fact that the main cast had actual skills, and most importantly, the protagonist, Cyrus, was overpowered and always showed up in time to save the day.
Correction, most of the time.
Max clicked his tongue.
Although he had read the entire novel, it wasn't a game setting, so there were no convenient item drops, OP items, and not really any cheat abilities to discover. Especially because the protagonist, Cyrus, was someone who followed the template of the main character hiding his strength.
He was so naturally gifted that he didn't need external help.
If this was indeed the beginning of the story, Cyrus was already as powerful as a professor despite pretending to be an ordinary student. The only advantage Max had was his knowledge of the plot—secrets, villains, future events.
But knowledge was dangerous in one's hand if one couldn't protect it properly.
He knew the future.
The capital and academy would be at least half-destroyed, caught in all-out wars between various powers. And in a world of magic, someone might extract those valuable future memories right from his head before eliminating him.
…Yeah I'm fucked.
The logical option was, to his distaste, to bootlick the main cast. It's wasn't like he disliked the main cast; rather, it was the quite the opposite.
The problem was…
It felt fucking beta.
If he wanted to survive, hugging the thigh of the main cast, particularly the protagonist, was his best bet. But the thought of spending his second life as someone's sidekick made him want to puke. He wasn't the supporting type.
"Remake…"
If I were to follow the conventional plot, then there would no way I would be able to get as strong as I want to be.
But what if I did something so drastically different?
The reflection in the water transformed, a wicked grin spreading across his face, eyes gleaming with dangerous calculation.
What If I joined the dark side? With my knowledge of the story and all the secrets I know, I can be sure to give the author a great remake he so dearly wishes me to help him make. Fighting against the main cast?
No problem.
Because what mattered wasn't ultimately them.
The one that the world revolves around, the one who ends up with a woman you can only dream of, the one who ends up triumphing atop mountains of corpses and reigns supreme mastering the pinnacle of both paths—magic and aura.
I only needed him.
Cyrus Shadowrone: the protagonist.
Max understood Cyrus's backstory because that man was someone who's mission was to...
—gain everyone's trust, becoming the academy's beloved hero, only to betray them all when the moment was right.
And in the novel… the protagonist DID betray everyone.
Suddenly, Max stopped his racing thoughts, his feet halted to a stop.
Hold it right there Max. Aren't your thoughts bordering to that of a lunatic? That mindset is clearly a villain's mindset.
He was getting ahead of himself. According to the plot, he had plenty of time before making such a drastic decision. Besides, joining the dark side meant facing the entire world. With magic that could extract memories, his knowledge could be ripped from his mind before he was eliminated.
Most importantly, he didn't want to become a demon or undead. Much like many other stories, paying the price for power to evil beings was setting yourself up to a bad end.
Turning to his right, he saw the Academy gates before him. The place was bustling with people. Once he finally got through and was about to enter the gates, a well-dressed noble stood in his way.
"You must be Draeven, Baron Doweson's charity case," he said loudly enough for others to hear.
"…And you are?"
The nobleman's lips curled into a smile; a friendly smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Lord Carrington, Academy Administrator."
He gestured to the administration building behind him.
"I'm afraid there's been a... complication with your enrollment."
Max frowned, his guarding raising up. He hadn't read about any Lord Carrington in the novel.
Is he some kind of minor administrator of the academy?
"Complication? I believe my papers are in order, sir."
Max kept his tone respectful yet firm. In his memories of his extra counterpart, a particular trait he was good at was maintaining proper etiquette. But putting up proper good mannerisms was not really Max's style, so his words came with an odd blend.
Carrington's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Indeed, your paperwork appears legitimate. However," he continued, voice dropping to a whisper, "there seems to have been an administrative error that has resulted in, shall we say, an overflow of accepted students."
As if this conversation was coordinated, nine other students seemingly dropped into Max's vision. Eight were dressed in simple, humble clothing that marked them clearly as commoners.
The ninth was another story.
He stood in front of the eight and wore an expertly tailored uniform with decorative embellishments that weren't standard issue. His posture radiated entitlement. With his chin held high, he was staring at Max as if he was piece of trash mudding the road in front of him.
When Max compared this guy with the Carrington in front of him, he was able to pick out the familiarity between them.
This stuck-up noble student was Carrington Junior.
Ah yes yes, I happened to have 'stolen' his son's spot, didn't I? That must be the plotline.
Max suppressed a groan.
"What I'm saying young man is that we have ten students competing for nine remaining spots."
"…With all due respect, Administrator Carrington," Max fired back, trying to not let the blood rush to his head, "the welcoming ceremony begins in a little less than three hours. Isn't this rather sudden?"
Carrington's smile held a hint of a smirk.
"Indeed, most unfortunate timing. Had the error been discovered earlier, arrangements could have been made. Alas, we find ourselves with limited options."
A tall, handsome figure stepped forward from behind Carrington. It was a professor Max hadn't noticed before. He wore the deep blue robes of an academy instructor, but something about him sent a chill down Max's spine.
Hahahah it's that bastard isn't it? Professor Redgrave. In the original story, this guy was not only a mid-boss but one of the direct subordinates under the Demon Lords that served the Demon King. Honestly, for the me right now, that hardly matters. The worst part about him now was…
The professor raised a finger.
"I've proposed a simple solution. A qualifier of sorts."
Carrington nodded, producing a red, palm-sized crystal from his pocket.
"This is an academy mana crystal."
He suddenly pressed it into Max's hand before he could object.
"It may not appear any different from a normal mana crystal in your eyes, but I assure you this one is attuned specifically for the academy's needs."
Max tried to push the crystal back, but his arms ended up pushing empty air.
Carrington had already stepped back.
Professor Redgrave energetically explained:
"The rules are simple. Whoever holds this crystal at the beginning of the welcoming ceremony speech secures the final enrollment spot."
Redgrave continued, his tone suggesting he was reciting rules, but Max knew better.
"The test must follow academy protocols, of course. There will be no permanent injuries, no lethal force... but accidents do happen during these qualifiers. The academy cannot be held responsible for unforeseen circumstances."
"He's a fucking monster in human-skin."
Max had to hold his reins from swinging the crystal back into one of their faces.
"To be fair…"
Professor Redgrave clapped his hands together.
"Because your eligibility's on the line, I will be generous and give you a head start. The test begins now—you have one minute before the others may pursue."
Max did not waste a second.
He pocketed the crystal and sprinted toward the academy grounds.
Turning his head over his shoulder, he caught the cruel amusement of the two adult men, the arrogant smirk on the noble son, and the gleeful expressions of the commoner students laughing amongst each other.
The test was rigged from the beginning.
"Fuck you, author!"
Max growled through gritted teeth as he ran.
"And fuck you too, Carrington and demon worshipper! I'm not just going to win your little game—I'm making damn sure you all regret ever thinking you could set me up!"
Ding!
[Welcome to the Remake.]
[Congratulations on being selected as the lucky winner to improve the story.]
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A system? The author had a conscience?
A wild, slightly unhinged grin spread across Max's face.
Behind him, he could hear the barks of pursuit beginning.
The minute head start was over.
The remake's preliminary first arc had begun.