I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra-Chapter 204

I stood up reluctantly, feeling a wave of frustration wash over me. Why was I the only one being called? It felt so unfair.

I shot a glare at Adrian, but he avoided my gaze, turning his attention to the other side of the room. I widened my eyes at him, thinking, This bastard! He was the one who disturbed me, and yet I was the one being called out?

I turned my attention back to the professor. He was the type of guy who seemed to thrive on embarrassing his students, relishing the power it gave him. I could almost see the smirk on his face as he prepared to make an example out of me.

"It seems you’re so smart that you won’t even bother listening to my lectures?" the professor said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"That’s not why I didn’t bother—" I started to protest, but he cut me off.

"So you’re saying you won’t be bothered because you’re top in the class?" he pressed, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed heavily in annoyance, feeling my patience wear thin. He clearly wasn’t interested in hearing my side of the story, so why should I even bother answering his questions?

The professor seemed to interpret my sigh as a sign of defiance. He leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with a hint of challenge. "What was today’s lesson all about?" he asked, a sly smile playing on his lips.

"It’s about aura manipulation by attacking and defending," I said, trying to sound confident.

"Then try making a defense barrier," the professor, Viggo Besturd, instructed, his tone challenging.

I finally remembered his name. Viggo Besturd, one of the mages working at the magic tower. He also secretly harbored an inferiority complex, which explained why he often looked down on Cypher and bothered him in various ways.

But it seems that I was the one caught his sight and switched places with Cypher instead.

I took a deep breath, activating Spectral Seal and channeling my aura. I held out my hand, focusing my energy. A golden-colored barrier materialized in front of me, shimmering with a radiant glow.

The barrier was sturdy, pulsating softly with my aura. I knew it was perfect, yet I couldn’t help but notice the dissatisfied glint in Viggo’s eyes as he watched the golden barrier solidify in front of me. Before I could celebrate my success, he quickly forced a smile and said, "Good. Now, try to maintain it while I attack."

His tone was encouraging, but I could sense the underlying sarcasm. Then, he added with a sneer, "Let’s see if you can hold up under real pressure. Or are you just all aura and no substance?"

Before I could strengthen my barrier, Viggo moved swiftly, launching a series of energy blasts aimed directly at my barrier, catching me off guard. Each impact made the golden surface flicker, but it held firm.

"It... looks sturdy," Viggo said, a hint of annoyance and disappointment creeping into his voice. "Now, try to counterattack using aura manipulation. Remember, defense is just one part of the flow."

’You just dug your own grave, hehehe,’ I viciously thought, watching him create his own barrier.

I clenched my fist and summoned a fireball in my palm—twice the size of my fist, larger than the one Viggo had conjured. I noticed Viggo gulp as he assessed the size of my attack.

"Are you ready, professor?" I asked with a nonchalant tone.

"W-wait, I—" he started to protest, but I didn’t wait for his reply.

Just as I was about to hurl the fireball straight at him, the bell rang sharply, signaling the end of class.

’Oh come on! Can’t I just hit him once?’ I mentally whined, frustration bubbling up inside me.

Viggo secretly sighed in relief, then shot me an uncomfortable glare. "Since class is over, you can go back to your seat now," he said curtly.

"Thank you, professor," I replied with a grin, giving him a playful bow. As I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but chuckle internally.

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

Monfort’s Memorial Building

In the quiet darkness of the night, Adrian moved silently through the dimly lit halls, his eyes fixed on a single purpose. His footsteps echoed softly as he searched for the place where the person he loathed the most was kept.

His mind was a storm of rage and pain. Every fiber of his being was fueled by a desire for revenge—an unrelenting hunger that refused to fade. The hardships he endured, the abandonment, the relentless struggle to survive—all of it had carved deep scars into his soul. To him, revenge was the only justice left.

He thought of her—Erina Gassos—who had abandoned him, who had heartlessly shoved him into that orphanage, forcing him to fight for every breath. He refused to call her mother; she was nothing but a distant, cold figure who had robbed him of a childhood. His anger boiled at the memory of her absence, and his resolve hardened: he would make her feel what he had felt. He wanted her to experience the pain of loneliness, rejection, and despair that had haunted him since he was a child.

If only she had shown even a flicker of affection, if she had come to him, apologized for her neglect—then perhaps his life would have been different. But now? Now, all he could hear was her voice begging for mercy, her trembling words pleading for forgiveness. The thought of her remorse only fueled his fury.

But what use is revenge when that woman already left this world? How could he ever hear that woman’s voice begging for her life or uttering the words "I’m sorry" for abandoning him and killing his father?

His feet came to a halt before a simple cabinet bearing a plaque and an urn. The name—Erina Gassos—was engraved plainly, almost somberly. The plaque was unadorned, plain and lonely, mirroring the emptiness he felt.

He stared at it, his breath shallow, the weight of his hatred pressing down on him. In that moment, the line between grief and vengeance blurred, and Adrian’s resolve grew darker, colder—ready to confront the ghosts of his past.

He carefully opened the old yellowish envelope, its edges frayed with age. Inside, he found a fragile, faded letter, worn from time. At the back of the envelope, faintly inscribed, was a message: "To my sweet boy. I know you’ll soon find me."

A sneer twisted his lips as he opened the envelope, the faint scent of nostalgia wafting from the paper. He unfolded the letter and began to read.

My sweet boy,

I won’t write your name since I know they’re still looking for me and I know they will do everything just to find you but I just wanted you to know that I never once forgot your name, sweetie.

Adrian clenched his teeth when he read the word ’sweetie’. Memories came flashing back as his mother sweetly called out his name.

At the back of the envelope was written, "To my sweet boy. I know you’ll soon find me."

He sneered and opened the envelope and read the letter.

My sweet boy,

I won’t write your name since I know they’re still looking for me, and I know they will do everything just to find you. But I just wanted you to know that I never once forgot your name, sweetie.

Adrian clenched his teeth at the word "sweetie." Memories flooded back, unbidden and sharp, of his mother sweetly calling out his name.

It was already late when I found out that your father was originally a Rogue. I loved him with all my heart, but he only approached me for his experiment. He wanted to know what would happen if a Rogue and a hero like me bore a child. And then you came along; it was the happiest day of our lives. I thought your father was happy because you were born, but he was happy because he could finally take you away, leave me behind, and conduct experiments on you.

As Adrian read deeper into the letter, he found it harder to accept the twisted reality of his origins.

Rogue hunting back then was horrifc. Anyone found communicating with a Rogue was killed mercilessly. So, I did the right thing. I killed your father and left you in an orphanage. You were so young back then that I couldn’t explain to you why I did that. I left and traveled far away so they couldn’t know your location.

Adrian’s breath hitched as he processed her words. The revelation that his father was a Rogue twisted in his gut. All along, his father was the evil one and not his mother?

He took a deep breath, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. "You left me to rot," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the building. "You left me to fend for myself, and now you want to play the loving mother?"

I had a tough life taking care of everything, ensuring that no one would disturb us anymore. Once everything was stable, I quickly went to the orphanage to take you back, but the orphanage burned down, and there were no leads leading back to you. I swear on my life that I did everything to find you, but apparently, I overlooked a flaw in my plan. One of your father’s subordinates, whom I thought I had killed, came looking for me and incapacitated my legs. But don’t worry about me, since I already killed him.

A tear dropped onto the letter, smudging the ink slightly.

Adrian’s hand trembled as he roughly wiped his eyes, a mixture of confusion and anger swirling within him. "What the fuck? Why am I crying?" he muttered bitterly, his voice rough with emotion. He clenched his fists, frustration boiling over as he struggled to understand the flood of feelings washing over him—confusion, betrayal, sorrow—all tangled within his mind.

The letter concluded with a gentle, heartfelt note:

Since then, I’ve been living at Golden Horizon Retirement Center. Everyone was nice to me, especially this little girl named Remillia. She’s smart, kind, and loving. I can’t help but see her as you although deep down, I can sense that she’s also lonely, like me. I know you don’t want to hear about me being taken care of, but just so you know, I will always love you. I won’t ask for forgiveness because I believe you have every right to be angry at me.

Adrian’s knees buckled as he sank to the ground, clutching the crumpled letter to his chest. Tears poured from his eyes as he wailed. The pain of years of secrets, betrayal, and longing finally broke free, leaving him trembling in the silent darkness.