The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 182: More Than Just a Meal

The streets of Valon were calm, painted in the golden light of early afternoon. Shops were alive with the sounds of casual conversation, and the scent of grilled meat drifted through the warm summer air.

Noel and Selene walked side by side, keeping a steady pace. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—just natural. Still, it was Selene who spoke first.

"...You walk slower than I expected." ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Noel glanced at her, slightly surprised she initiated conversation at all. "Maybe I’m just enjoying the sun."

Selene looked ahead. "It’s too hot."

Noel smirked. "Didn’t think someone who manipulates gravity and ice would mind the heat."

"...I don’t. It’s just annoying."

’Makes sense coming where she is from.’

They turned down a quieter street near the western market, and Selene stopped in front of a modest building with a polished wooden sign: The Ember Griddle. Through the clean crystal windows, the warm interior could be seen—oak tables, leather chairs, and small magical lanterns hovering gently above each table.

Selene opened the door and stepped in without hesitation. Noel followed.

Inside, the air was cooler, the sound of sizzling meat and soft conversation mixing in the background. The place was clean, well-lit, and clearly catered to those with decent coin.

Selene paused for a moment before picking a corner table near the window. Noel took a seat across from her.

"You’ve been here before?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Selene shook her head once. "No. Never had the money to."

Her tone was simple.

"But now I do," she added as she picked up the menu. "So I want something good."

Noel leaned back, watching her flip through the pages with intent focus.

’She really doesn’t hide her priorities. Refreshing, honestly.’

"You sure you want to spend it all on food?" he asked casually.

Selene didn’t look up. "Yes."

The waitress arrived—a young woman with auburn hair tied into a bun, wearing a dark brown apron. She gave them a polite smile, her eyes shifting briefly between Selene and Noel.

"Ready to order?"

Selene didn’t hesitate.

"Grilled ribs. Double portion. Spiced steak strips. Roasted chicken thighs. A bowl of seasoned rice. Grilled vegetables. And... a side of buttered bread."

The waitress blinked, startled. "...All of that for you?"

Selene met her gaze without blinking. "Yes. I’ll finish it."

"...Of course." The waitress scribbled quickly, then turned to Noel.

He glanced at the menu once more, then handed it over. "Just a pork sandwich. And a coffee with juice."

The waitress looked up. "Together?"

"Yeah," Noel replied, nodding casually.

As she walked away, he leaned back in his chair and muttered to himself,

’Second time already... is it really that weird? Lereus really had an effect on me’

Selene remained quiet for a while, her eyes fixed on the window. Then, without turning to him, she spoke softly.

"...You never asked about that day."

Noel looked at her calmly. "Didn’t think I needed to."

Another brief silence. Her fingers tapped the edge of the table lightly.

"...Thanks," she said.

"For what?"

"For not saying anything. About what you saw. Most people would’ve said something."

Noel gave a slight shake of his head. "You didn’t look like you wanted to talk about it. That was enough for me."

Selene finally looked at him—just for a moment. Her face was neutral, but her voice was quieter than usual.

"Still... thanks."

Noel leaned back and looked toward the window.

"No problem."

The food didn’t take long to arrive. A team of two servers came out with trays, one of them clearly struggling under the weight of the massive order Selene had placed.

Plate after plate was placed on the table in front of her. Grilled ribs with a golden glaze. Juicy steak strips, still sizzling. Perfectly roasted chicken thighs. A generous bowl of seasoned rice. Buttered vegetables steaming on a separate platter. And finally, a basket of warm bread.

Selene picked up her fork without hesitation.

Noel watched as she took a bite of the ribs, silent but clearly enjoying it. She wasn’t a loud eater—just methodical, focused.

"...You really weren’t joking," he muttered, glancing at the growing pile of empty plates from past experiences.

Selene swallowed, then spoke while reaching for another piece.

"It’s one of the few things I can fully enjoy without thinking."

Noel sipped from his cup.

"Good food’s a decent reason to relax."

Another bite. Then:

"I spoke with her."

He looked up. "Your mother?"

Selene nodded, still chewing.

Noel waited. He didn’t push. Eventually, she continued.

"After you told me I should... I did. It was hard. But I listened."

Her eyes didn’t leave the plate, but her voice grew quieter.

"She didn’t ask for forgiveness. Just... said she wants to try again. Slowly."

Noel leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "And what do you want?"

Selene paused.

"I don’t know yet."

She placed her utensils down for a moment and sat back.

"She hurt me. For years. But hearing her admit it, seeing her trying—it makes it harder to hate her like I used to."

Her tone didn’t change, but the weight behind her words did.

"I don’t trust her. Not fully. But maybe one day."

Noel nodded slowly.

"Sounds like a good first step."

Selene looked at him again, a little longer this time. Then picked up another rib.

"...Maybe."

Selene continued eating, now onto the roasted chicken thighs. Despite the amount of food, her pace never slowed—precise and efficient, like everything she did. Noel simply watched in silence, sipping the last of his drink.

Eventually, she spoke again, her tone lower.

"When I was younger... meals were limited."

Noel looked at her, saying nothing.

"My mother controlled everything. Portions. Schedules. Calories. She called it discipline. Said it would help shape me into someone ’worthy’ of our name."

Her cyan eyes drifted toward the window. The afternoon sun lit the edge of her short blue hair, now slightly messy from the walk.

"It never felt like discipline. It felt like punishment."

Noel leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. "And now?"

Selene looked down at her plate.

"Now I eat what I want. It’s not about hunger. It’s about choosing something for myself."

There was no emotion in her voice, as usual. But this time, it didn’t sound hollow—it sounded steady.

"I don’t fight for revenge. Or family pride. I fight because I want to be stronger. So that no one gets to control my life again."

Noel’s eyes narrowed slightly, not out of judgment—but because he understood.

"...You’re doing a good job of that already."

Selene didn’t respond right away. Then:

"...I still don’t know what I want. Not really. But every time I eat like this... I remember that I survived her."

Noel nodded.

"That’s enough of a reason."

Selene finished the last bite of bread and placed her fork down with precision. The table was covered in emptied plates—stacked neatly, wiped clean. Noel had long since finished his meal and sat watching in silence, arms crossed.

She leaned back slightly, her cyan gaze unfazed.

"...That was good."

Noel gave a half-smile. "You didn’t leave much to rate."

Selene glanced toward the window. "Not supposed to."

The waitress returned, collecting the dishes and setting the receipt down. Selene picked it up immediately, sliding a few folded bills across the table.

"You sure?" Noel asked, more out of courtesy than anything.

"I invited you."

Fair enough. Noel raised his hands in surrender.

As they stepped outside, the soft breeze of early evening brushed past them. Selene adjusted her uniform lightly but kept walking at a steady pace.

"...Thanks," she said, voice low.

Noel looked at her briefly, a bit surprised. "For what?"

"For not being annoying."

He blinked. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

She didn’t respond. Just kept walking beside him with her usual composed silence.

’Even she...’ Noel thought, glancing sideways, ’changes a bit when you give her space.’

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