Transmigrated as an Extra: Awakening of The Ex‐Class'-Chapter 87 : Preparations for the School Festival Part 12

"Host café," she corrected. "It’s like a maid café, but with boys. You know... the students dress like butlers and serve the girls who come as customers. Elegant style, formal suits, a charming smile, and a gentlemanly treatment."

I was silent for a second, processing that image.

"So it’s definitely the haunted house," I finally said, crossing my arms confidently. "I don’t see any guy willingly dressing up like that."

"I don’t think so," Cynthia commented, turning to me. "You do know our class has more girls than boys, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

Seeing my confusion, she put a hand to her forehead, as if my lack of understanding hurt her.

"God... look at this idiot," she said, shaking her head with mock theatricality. "Do you know how many people want to see you in a butler outfit?" No, wait... forget it. You’ll find out for yourself when you see the voting list. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

I didn’t know whether to feel flattered or alarmed, so I just let out an awkward laugh and placed my hand on the back of my neck.

Up ahead, Ivvy let out a small laugh, quiet, almost inaudible, but genuine. Seeing her smile for the first time since the others arrived, I felt a kind of relief. Maybe, little by little, she was feeling more comfortable.

Erwing, however, seemed just as confused as I was.

"Do you have a fan club?" he whispered to me with a mischievous smile.

"Don’t start," I replied through gritted teeth, while Cynthia let out a mocking laugh.

After we finished eating, we said our goodbyes and everyone went their separate ways. The cafeteria was still filled with the typical bustle and chatter of students at lunchtime, but my mind was already elsewhere.

I headed straight to the training grounds. I needed to move my body a little, release the tension. The air in the hallway was fresher than in the dining hall, and the echo of my footsteps accompanied me as I made my way through the students dispersed through the corridors. When I arrived, the grounds were almost empty; there were just a couple of unfamiliar faces practicing with wooden swords and others with bows working on their aim.

I bound my hands with tape, put on my gloves, and began my routine. Strike after strike, I focused on keeping the rhythm, perfecting my form. Sweat began to trickle down my forehead, but I didn’t stop. There was something about the repetition, the physical effort, that helped clear my mind.

Erwing, for his part, I don’t know where the hell he had gone. Since he was chosen as the class leader for the festival, his activities became more limited. We’d barely finished eating when he received a message on his bracelet. Almost immediately, he hurried off, muttering a few illegible words.

I didn’t blame him. Being the representative meant carrying the pressure of an entire group, especially in an institution as prestigious as NOVA.

After a couple of hours, I considered my training complete. My muscles were sore, but I felt good. I changed in silence and left the training grounds. The golden light of the afternoon was beginning to adorn the halls, and the air now carried a faint scent of dried leaves and residual manna.

I returned to my room without much haste, crossing the gardens of the west wing. The silence of that hour, interrupted only by the birds and the rustling of branches, made me think. It had been a while since I’d received missions from the system. Everything had been quiet lately... too quiet.

Of course, we were just beginning the main plot of the novel. The story hadn’t yet progressed as strongly as it had while I was reading it, perhaps due to the time difference between reality and the pages of the story.

Even so, I had to stay alert because if I recall correctly, something important was about to happen during the school festival. It was on that final night, when the stage lights shone brightly and the music filled the air, that everything changed. The blood-colored moon brought with it the invasion of a demon, hidden among the crowd, who kidnapped Erwing.

What happened that night wasn’t clearly described in the pages of the novel, and the school merely treated it as a "minor incident."

The demon didn’t attack head-on. It wasn’t that stupid. It slipped through the shadows of the campus as if it knew every corner of it, as if every passage beneath the foundations of the main building were in the palm of its hand. I don’t know how it found that room. It was a secret room, sealed with demonic energy and illusion magic, lost deep within the east wing, beneath an old, shuttered library. Even the professors went there...

It was there that Amelia and Aziel found Erwing.

The trail of demonic energy was faint, like a thread of black smoke that wound through the corridors, barely perceptible to them, who are sensitive to mana. But Amelia, with her affinity for detecting energy, and Aziel, with his swordsmanship capable of penetrating barriers and seals, followed it without hesitation.

When they opened the door, darkness enveloped them in a thick fog, allowing silence to fill the room, interrupted only by a drop of water falling rhythmically somewhere on the ceiling.

And then they saw him.

Erwing lay unconscious in the center of the room. His arms were bound by two ropes imbued with dark, corrupted energy. His body showed marks: some shallow cuts, others more savage. There was blood, but not much. Enough to make it clear that this hadn’t been a simple restraint.

Amelia gasped, and Aziel could barely suppress a scream. They rushed to release him, fearing any delay could worsen his condition. His skin was cold, but his chest rose and fell with effort: he was still alive, if barely.

After that, they fought the demon, and although they didn’t manage to defeat it, they did force it back. When they finally emerged, Erwing was still unconscious. Lighter, perhaps, with a subtle expression of sadness on his face. He didn’t speak about what they had done to him. Not that night, nor afterward. But since then, he never smiled with the same intensity...

The novel suggested that that night was a nightmare that tormented him, although he later managed to overcome it. It was never mentioned again in subsequent volumes.