I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra-Chapter 30

Feeling a pang of worry, I quickly gathered my things and hurried after her.

"Are you going?" I asked, catching up.

She didn’t respond.

I asked her again. This time, I added more politeness into it. "May I ask if you’re going to the after-party?"

She finally gave a small nod.

’Damn royalty,’ I thought.

"What? I mean, why?" I blurted out, the question escaping my lips before I could fully consider it.

She wasn’t the type to participate in things like after-parties that doesn’t benefit her.

"What do you mean ’why’? Aren’t you curious about the Hendera Rentem’s weak spot?" she shot back, her voice laced with impatience.

"Right..." I said, the pieces clicking into place. The situation suddenly made sense.

I get it now.

Details about the Hendera Rentem were practically non-existent. Its strength was all over the place, and it lived in incredibly deep places. While its fangs and hide were worth a fortune, organizing a hunt was a nightmare when you had no idea how many people to bring.

Whitney, importantly, was the successor of a large guild.

So the reason why Sylvester acted like he knew the Hendera Rentem’s vital point was because of this. He threw a bait to lure out Whitney.

She had a guild lineage. Her clan had risen to power during Eclipse, thanks to the massive success of her family’s first generation head.

They were still one of the successful aristocratic families with hero blood running through their veins, but Whitney had this weird chip on her shoulder. Compared to the real old-money aristocrats, she felt like they were still second-tier. That’s why she only ever looked at Edge, who came from a long line of aristocratic heroes, with favor. And it’s also why she was so damn obsessed with appearances and being ’elegant’.

Was this a sign to make my investment? There was a significant amount to gain in fostering a friendly relationship with Whitney. With her undeniable expertise in handling businesses and her proven track record of earning profitability, she had earned the right to be called the youngest businesswoman in Aeonia

"Not really though, I already know about it," I said, taking a risk.

"What?" Whitney’s voice was sharp, and a single brow arched in disbelief. A flicker of annoyance, quickly masked by her usual composure, crossed her face. It was clear she was thinking, ’Are you serious right now?’

At that moment, I made my decision. Using this information, which would be announced to the public one day anyway, I would be the one to lure Whitney and make her my ally. Considering the popularity points and additional benefits I stood to gain, it was a clear win-win situation.

I glanced around, making sure we were alone, then gestured for her to come closer. Lowering my voice to a serious whisper, I relayed the information.

At first, she looked doubtful, but the lure of the secret pulled her in. She leaned closer as I whispered into her ear.

"Its weakness is its eyes... but I don’t know which one," I murmured.

"Stop spouting nonse—" Whitney began, a dismissive wave of her hand already starting.

I cut her off. "Look for the one shining brighter than the other. That’s where the weak spot is."

I was the one who’d crafted the setting for this monster, drawing inspiration from the Iranian mythology of Esfandiar. It was highly improbable this particular detail had been altered, as even the tiniest elements seemed to have been preserved.

"The body is tough," I explained, "but the eyes are the only vulnerable point. That’s the Hendera Rentem’s weakness. Be careful though, its senses are far sharper than most monsters."

Information like this should have commanded a price of at least a hundred million Glacium. But given my current, meager credibility, it likely wouldn’t be worth more than a hundred.

"Are you high right now?" Whitney just sneered at me like I was an idiot. Then she turned and started walking away. I followed after her.

"Oh, come on," I said, my voice edged with frustration. "We’re teammates in Monster Hunting Class, and we’re both in the Monster Theory Club. You have to believe me."

Whitney’s eyes narrowed. "Would you believe me if I were in your position right now?"

I fell silent. No, I wouldn’t either.

"It’s your choice whether to believe me or not," I finally said, deciding to extend the benefit of the doubt. It was up to her now; I had nothing to lose anyway.

"Hey!" Sylvester’s voice cut in abruptly, shoving me back slightly as he addressed Whitney. "Miss Owen is this girl bothering you?"

His height forced me to tilt my head back so I ignored him and turned to Whitney. "Am I bothering you?"

"Yes," she said flatly.

"Pfft!" Sylvester bit back a laugh.

"Umm... Miss Whitney, are you also coming to the after-party?" he asked, a sudden shift to politeness in his tone.

"No," she replied, her voice as cold as before.

I tried one last time. "Whitney, remember what I told you. I’m giving you a big favor. If you’re not going to use it then I should sell this information to others instead. Time’s running out."

Sylvester spun on me, his face contorted in anger. "Hey, miss. Don’t bother other people too m— Uhh... Miss Owen?"

Whitney was already walking away.

"Pfft!" Now’s my turn to stifle a laugh as he gave me frustrated glare. Sylvester, face twisted, scrambled after her. I simply watched them go. frёewebnoѵēl.com

’Right. Time to train again.’

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

The deep night air settled around Whitney as she sat at her desk, the rhythmic tap of her pen against the wood echoing the unrest in her mind.

Tomorrow, Royal Dominion’s elite guild force was set to hunt a Hendera Rentem.

They’d secretly acquired intel about a lone one residing in Kamagong Forest, and a scout had already confirmed its size. It was estimated to be an Apex rank grade 5, requiring at least a hundred Elite-ranked Heroes. Its fangs and fur were top-tier, promising an astronomical income for the guild if the hunt succeeded.

This was what worried her. She needed to contribute, to prove herself capable of eventually taking over the guild without issue.

Finally, with a sigh, Whitney activated her smartwatch and initiated a call. A holographic screen flickered to life as the receiver picked up.

"Uncle! You’re still awake?" she greeted, a hint of surprise in her voice.

The face of Gonzalo Harlo appeared – a veteran in his forties, her father’s most trusted right-hand man. Since childhood, she’d thought of him as her real uncle.

"Do you need anything, Lady Owen?" Gonzalo’s voice was steady, his expression calm.

"Is there something wrong?" he prompted when she hesitated.

Despite being the one who made the call, Whitney found herself unable to speak, a wave of embarrassment washing over her.

’What was that again? An eye shining brighter than the other? You can weaken it by attacking it?’ Whitney mentally replayed Remillia’s words, a wave of doubt washing over her. ’Just what was I doing, letting myself be fooled by that witch’s crazy nonsense?’

"Umm, I’m saying this just in case..." she began, the words feeling awkward on her tongue.

But the possibility, however small, wasn’t zero. And it didn’t seem like it would hurt to try. Even if it came from that "crazy witch," there had to be some reason for her strange confidence. Justifying her actions to herself, Whitney took a steadying breath.

"Yes, Young Lady?" Gonzalo’s voice was patient.

"Um, I know it sounds crazy, but..." Closing her eyes and clenching her fists, Whitney forced the words out. "If things go south, try looking for its eye, especially the brighter one."

Gonzalo’s brows furrowed slightly. "...Brighter eye?"

Whitney knew the unspoken question in his tone. But if she could somehow help, if this bizarre information held even a shred of truth... "Yes, its eye. Either on its left or right, there should be... well, I’m not sure if the information I collected is true, but..." Whitney continued, pushing past the risk of embarrassment. "Just aim for that spot. That’s where its weak spot is."

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

2 AM

Same as usual. I had just come back from training and collapsed onto my bed, Macaron already peacefully asleep beside me.

But instead of immediately dozing off, I couldn’t close my eyes this time.

’I want to go back to my world,’ The thought was a constant hum beneath everything else. ’How could I even survive in this world? What should I do?’ Should I become a supporting character, secretly pulling strings to help the main characters? Or should I just dedicate myself to training, becoming powerful enough to simply eliminate all the villains? Or... should I try to become the main character myself? ’Nah,’ I quickly shook off the chaotic thoughts swirling in my head.

There were more immediate, more pressing things to consider. I still needed to make money. But considering my current stats, I was still too weak to join any serious dungeon raids. Maybe I should start with monster hunting? They paid quite a hefty sum if you managed to bring down rare creatures.

My mind, however, was slowly drifting off. I was simply too tired to grapple with the weight of my uncertain future any longer.

I let my eyes close for a while, surrendering to exhaustion. When I opened them again, it was already Wednesday.

6:30 AM

When I turned to look at my bedside table, big, round eyes stared back at me.

"Aaaack!" I yelped, immediately scrambling into a sitting position. It was an unpleasant sight, no matter how many times I saw it.

"Macaron! Ugh! This is already the third time in a row you’ve done this!" I complained.

"Master, you do know that those three times are when you’re close to being late, right?" Macaron said, a hint of smugness in his voice. "I’m your personal alarm clock. I’m just making sure you wake up early!"

Right.

Another exhausting day had begun.

With a sigh and a mumbled "thanks" to Macaron, I tried to brush off the usual morning wave of negative emotions. After forcing myself into the bathroom and getting washed up, I pulled on my uniform and left the dorm. Ten minutes was more than enough for this routine.

Once outside, It was still early morning and I saw other students already getting ready for class. Some were busy laughing and chatting, others were having a friendly spar, and couples were being openly lovey-dovey with each other. Seeing them enjoying their academy life so freely, I began to understand why I felt so sluggish every morning.

I didn’t have any friends in this world. I didn’t even have someone to talk to casually. Being able to hang out with friends and having relationships was the only thing that had ever made school feel less like a chore in my old world, but I wasn’t there anymore.

’Should I also try looking for a boyfriend?’

No. I immediately shook my head at the thought. I was too old for that kind of drama, and besides, getting attached to a fictional character would only make me not want to leave this world.

Yes, I should just be satisfied being alone.

With that resolved, I quickened my pace and headed towards the classroom.

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

Guild Economics and Resource Management

"As you know, a guild’s base is somewhat tougher than it looks. Just because the style looks sophisticated and modern doesn’t mean it’s easy to destroy. Don’t underestimate it, since every wall and floor are made up of galactite which is kn..."

I was only half-heartedly listening to the professor’s lesson, my mind drifting to more practical matters – specifically, my weapon.

’I need to buy a new weapon,’ I thought. I could modify a weapon’s stats, but I could only do it if I physically owned the weapon.

My current dagger was great, although I wanted to own a few more kinds of daggers. I’d modify them so they could be infused with mana, especially now that I had magic.

"...only be allowed the higher your rank is. Now, let’s continue after a little break."

Before I knew it, break time had arrived. I immediately turned on my smartwatch to search for a webpage that sold weapons. I was about to hit enter when I received an unexpected message.

{Excuse me,} an unknown text appeared on my screen.

My brows furrowed. "Do I know you?" I texted back.

{It’s me Whitney Owen,} the text said.

{It’s me, Whitney Owen,} the reply came.

Wait. How did she even know my smartwatch ID?

Whitney was sitting in the front row, as usual. I gave her a quick glance, but she was still looking straight ahead, seemingly paying attention to the professor who was now gathering his notes. Still, I replied to her message.

"What do you need?" I texted back.

{What are you?} Whitney texted.

I furrowed my brows. What in the world was she talking about? I was supposed to be questioning how she got my smartwatch ID in the first place.

{I’m a human, of course,} I texted. Wait, don’t tell me she believes those rumors that I’m crazy?

{I’m serious!} Whitney texted.

"I’m also serious here! Just to be clear, I’m not crazy!" I texted, feeling a prickle of annoyance.

{I’m not interested in you being crazy! I know you’re already crazy in the first place!} Whitney texted back, her words practically dripping with exasperation even through text.

I scratched my head in genuine annoyance. "I don’t really know why you even texted me in the first place," I texted. "Can you not contact me if you have nothing to say?"

She didn’t reply for a while. I was still curious why she suddenly contacted me then I remembered what I told her last night.

"Is this about yesterday? I’m surprised that you believed in what I said. If you let it pass up one more day, then I would have sold the information to the highest bidder," I texted, aiming to annoy her even further by confirming I was right.

I looked up and saw her reading the message. Her back was still to me, but I could see her shoulders tense slightly. After that, she didn’t text me anymore.

I smirked. ’So, you’re not gonna text me anymore? Then I’ll be the one annoying you then.’

{So? What I said is right, isn’t it?} I typed, a mischievous glint in my eyes.