The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World

Ever since the battle with his clone began, Ruvian had been unable to discern what it was that he lacked.

Every possibility he considered failed to strike the truth, and the more he observed, the more it seemed that his opponent was deliberately concealing the answer from him.

At first, he suspected that his deficiency lay in the size of his reservoir, yet that theory quickly collapsed when he saw that the clone never attempted to overwhelm him with greater mana output.

He then wondered if the flaw was a lack of creativity, since the duplicate fought with a constant stream of surprises and unpredictable maneuvers.

Yet, even that explanation rang hollow, because those same tactics were well within Ruvian’s own capability.

He already thought of that option.

However, if he understood them and could replicate them, then why had he not been the one to act first? Why had the initiative always belonged to the other?

As the exchange continued and he studied each motion more carefully, a quieter realization began to surface.

The answer was not physical, nor magical, nor technical. It was something far less tangible yet far more decisive.

What he lacked was related to his mentality aspect.

Aggressiveness.

Ruvian slightly chuckled.

By nature and by habit, Ruvian had always been cautious, reserved, and reactive. He favored patience because it felt safe and granted him more time to judge the best possible course of action.

In truth, he had never once regarded this disposition as a flaw. In fact, he had taken pride in it, since it had protected him countless times and spared him from reckless mistakes.

Yet if this trial existed to reveal a truth about himself, then he could no longer dismiss it. Something in this confrontation was trying to teach him, and so he shouldn’t ignore the lesson.

Because of that, he began to feel that perhaps the moment had come for him to abandon his usual restraint and allow himself, if only for this once, to act with a measure of aggression in his approach.

Wrapping his body with [Body Enhancement], Ruvian lurched his body forward at his clone.

Almost at once, the clone answered in kind, rushing to meet him as though drawn by the same impulse.

A sly smile curved across the copy’s lips as their distance closed.

"Well, now. A shift in temperament. Are you trying out a different style? Or the original is finally copying his clone?"

Ruvian’s gaze remained steady, the hesitation that once lingered there replaced by something firmer, something intent.

"Nothing so complicated. I am simply giving you the taste of your medicine. This is what it felt like to be copied."

"Now try to catch these."

Their hands collided again, but this time the rhythm was different.

Ruvian did not settle into his usual guarded cadence. The instant contact was made, his fist snapped forward in a clean arc.

The clone raised an arm to deflect, yet before the block had fully formed, Ruvian’s other hand was already there, slipping past the guard and driving toward the ribs.

The blows came in measured succession.

For a few breaths, the exchange remained even.

Two identical fighters trading force for force.

The clone’s smile lingered, confident, certain that the pattern would return to the familiar tempo of reaction and counter.

But something had certainly changed.

Ruvian kept on pressing.

His next strike arrived sooner than expected.

Then another.

There was no pause between them.

His fists no longer waited for mistakes. They created them. A pivoting hook forced the duplicate to step back. A sharp thrust to the sternum landed before the clone could fully regain balance.

The shift was subtle at first, almost invisible, yet the momentum had begun to tilt.

The clone’s brows knit together as he realized that the timing he relied upon was slipping out of his grasp.

For the first time since the battle began, he was the one reacting.

Finally, a punch landed squarely against the clone’s face with a sharp, resounding crack.

Pow!

The impact snapped the duplicate’s head back and tore him off his footing, his body flung through the air before crashing across the ground several paces away.

Silence followed for a breath before the clone broke it with his low and grim laughter.

"Yes. That is it. That is what you should have shown from the very beginning!"

Slowly, the duplicate pushed himself upright.

Blood trailed from his nose, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, studying the red smear with faint satisfaction before lifting his gaze again.

"This is who you truly are, Ruvian...."

"No, that name is not the right one."

A devious smile spread across his face.

"Yuzuki Nozomi suits you better."

"And who are you to decide that for me, you fraud?" Ruvian asked, his expression dimming as a shadow passed over his features.

"Who else could I be?" the double replied with a soft, knowing laugh.

"I am your most loyal and faithful imitation, the one who understands you more deeply than you dare understand yourself. I know your secrets, your past, and every fragile thing you treasure. There is nothing about you that lies beyond my sight."

Ruvian’s eyes narrowed, though his voice remained steady.

"Whatever you say, but in the end, you are still nothing more than an imitation, just another stray voice echoing inside my head."

The clone’s laughter rose, rich with derision and delight.

"Oh, that’s a good one."

"I might use that someday. But speaking of imitation... Are you not the same kind of counterfeit?"

The clone took a step forward.

"You yourself are no different."

"You are a fraud who stole the life of Ruvian Castelor, then soothed your own conscience by pretending that such theft was acceptable."

"You shy away from his family’s affection because you know it, deep down, it was never meant for you. That you are undeserved for such love! However, your inner-self craves it more fiercely than anything you ever desired."

’...’

The clone continued.

"After all, is it not wonderful to have a mother who loves and cherishes you so completely, unlike a certain someone who never felt such warmth!"

Gritting his teeth, Ruvian held the fury in place, even as it throbbed hot and violent beneath his skin.

"You surely crossed the line, buddy."

After allowing the smile to remain for an instant more, the clone dismissed it, spat the last fleck of blood aside, and studied Ruvian in silence.

"Opps sorry, yeah, that hurt me too. Shouldn’t have said that."

"Anyway, let us speak plainly for once. You should be grateful that I am not like any other clones. Just like that naive protagonist, his clone had a consciousness of its own. And so do I."

"So, there’s something that you truly need to know."

Ruvian quietly studied him.

"Say it."

The clone smiled.

"First, stop restraining yourself and abandon this habit of passivity, will you not? If you wish to survive in this world that is already leaning toward ruin, then you must act with greater force, and certainly, with greater will."

"You keep pretending to be an extra, convincing yourself that supporting others will somehow ensure your own survival. You invest your effort in strengthening side characters, yet what has that brought you so far?"

"Tell me. Has a single one of them truly risen because of you? They have not. That is the result of your hesitation. You are naive enough to believe you will endure beyond the third volume, when in truth you stand closer to death than any of them. And when you fall, the rest will follow."

"More than that, have you even noticed that good-for-nothing protagonist you want to rely on is no longer here?"

"Of course, I do, what sort of foolish question is that?"

"Ha. Good. Cause here I thought that I have to remind you about it..."

The clone paused.

Finally, he spoke, extending his hand to him.

"Become the protagonist yourself, Yuzuki."

"And let go of this obsession of staying as a side character."

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[Chapter 63: Trials of Confrontation (6)]