Transmigrated as an Extra: Awakening of The Ex‐Class'-Chapter 85 : Preparations for the School Festival Part 10

Shortly after, the teacher arrived, his presence silencing the room where murmurs were rising. Everyone implicitly knew they had to behave. However, although his gaze was authoritative, what really weighed on me was Erwing’s intense stare. I felt his gaze piercing like a red-hot iron, straight into my back. It wasn’t something to laugh at; you could see a suppressed fire in it, a kind of silent duel that had begun without my permission. His eyes, burning, almost unbridled, seemed to be seeking some kind of competition, a war I had no intention of waging. I was already getting tired.

That’s why I was reluctant to pressure them from the start. It wasn’t out of leniency, but rather because I hated doing annoying things. But when I saw that the situation showed no signs of improving, it seemed inevitable. If they continued arguing like this, they wouldn’t get anywhere. And worst of all: the atmosphere was becoming unbearable. Tension floated in every corner, clinging to the walls and corrupting the minds of those involved.

Besides, they were going too far. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t notice they were following me. Maybe they thought they were cautious. But my senses, honed by the system and by their nature, didn’t allow me to ignore their footsteps. Even if I had been a thousand strides away, I would have heard them. Their walk, though careful, had a particular cadence, a rhythm I had already memorized.

I had no choice but to put a stop to it. This little game they’d been playing was beginning to feel more personal than a simple task. And I couldn’t allow them to take any more liberties.

So, without further ado, I issued the warning. There weren’t harsh words, nor shouts. I didn’t need them. Sometimes, all it took was to make your position clear; some would do it with a gesture, a look that held strength and conviction was enough to draw a line. I did it calmly, but firmly enough for them to understand that I wasn’t willing to tolerate any more.

Now, all that’s left is to wait... and see if my little warning really worked. Because if they don’t understand now, there won’t be room for second chances later. I couldn’t let them continue to hinder me like this. And as much as I want to avoid it, I also know when to intervene forcefully.

***

The sound of the clock signaled the end of class. I left the room with slow steps, leaving behind the sound of the teacher’s last words. The air in the hallways was lighter, as if the tension that had enveloped us during class had finally dissolved. I walked calmly, listening to the soft crunch of my shoes against the floor, and for the first time all day, I felt I could breathe easily.

"Haha..." I breathed a sigh of relief, allowing myself a very small smile.

But the peace didn’t last long.

"Grrrr..." frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

My stomach growl echoed with incredible intensity in the hallway. I frowned, embarrassed, and placed a hand on my stomach.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m coming..." I muttered to myself, laughing a little at the situation.

I headed straight for the NOVA cafeteria. The place, vast and with high windows that let in sunlight to relieve fatigue, was already starting to fill up. I grabbed a metal tray and made my way down the food line, helping myself to a generous piece of high-quality, still-steaming monstrou meat, accompanied by a portion of side dishes: glazed roots, something that looked like tofu, and a small, toasted, round bread that crunched to the touch. The aroma was intoxicating.

I looked around for a good spot, and soon found one of the many empty tables that caught my attention. It was tucked away in a corner, away from the hustle and bustle, which, though slight, was present. I headed over and sat down, grateful for the silence. But it wasn’t long before the others started arriving. The Class A students entered in groups, laughing and chatting, some with faces still tense from the recent class. I noticed, with some discomfort, that most avoided meeting my gaze. Some even looked away immediately upon seeing me.

"Was I too harsh...?" I asked myself, lowering my gaze for a second.

But then I shook my head. There was no time to second-guess my actions. It was necessary; they couldn’t continue invading my privacy like this. I continued eating in silence until a soft, somewhat hesitant voice pulled me from my thoughts:

"May I sit down?"

I looked up, somewhat surprised. Standing in front of me was a girl I’d seen not long ago. Her hair was pink, a dull shade like withered cherry blossom petals in autumn, along with those rounded cheeks and a somewhat shy air, but her eyes, dark as damp earth, displayed a warmth and tenderness. Without thinking about it, a smile formed on my lips.

"Come in," I replied, gesturing to the seat opposite me.

She nodded and sat down carefully, adjusting herself and then setting down her tray with an almost ceremonial gesture. I was still curious about this person, as far as I knew... I didn’t remember seeing her anywhere in the novel. And I knew that story almost as if I’d written it. Maybe she was a minor character. An extra. Or... had something changed? As soon as that strange thought crossed my mind, I immediately tensed up.

Ivvy was quite cheerful, even though she still didn’t quite fit in. There was something about her that clashed with the world as I knew it, and at the same time, she felt perfectly at home.

We ate in complete silence. Not out of awkwardness or anything like that, but rather a kind of shared tranquility. As if we were both grateful not to have to pretend,

Ivvy seemed focused on her food, carefully cutting each bite, and I simply watched her from the corner of my eye, occasionally.

But then... I felt it.

A sharp sensation on the back of my neck. The pressure of a fixed gaze, like an invisible needle piercing the veil of the moment. I stopped the movements of my fork and slowly raised my gaze, scanning the cafeteria. No one was obviously watching me. But I felt it. It wasn’t paranoia. My senses were too sharp to fail me on something like that.

"Is something wrong?" Ivvy asked quietly, almost a whisper, noticing my sudden change in attitude.

"Nothing..." I lied, lowering my gaze back to my plate. "Maybe it was my imagination."

She didn’t respond. She just looked at me silently for a few seconds before continuing to eat, as if she understood more than I was saying. But the chill didn’t go away. It wasn’t as simple as a glance; there was something more. It felt so eerie. I wasn’t entirely sure, but my intuition told me I should be careful.

And yet, in front of me, Ivvy continued eating completely normally, as if she didn’t notice or care about the situation. She was eating completely normally. She chewed slowly, her eyes lowered, her lips barely curved in an expression of tranquility.

The most disturbing thing was that I couldn’t identify where it was coming from. The cafeteria was a large place, with columns and tables everywhere, gently swaying in the wind. The long rows of tables stretched all the way to the back, and students kept coming in steadily, each with trays in hand and engaged in lively conversation. Smiling, carefree... as if the world weren’t about to tip into something darker.

My gaze scanned the room once more, this time more cautiously. Nothing. Not a single hint. Not a strange glow, not a shadow out of place. And yet, that feeling was still there, lurking. Like a beast hidden in the fog.

It wasn’t long before I felt a more tangible change. The faint creaking of the wood of the bench to my left made me turn my face, and there she was: Amelia. She sat with studied elegance, crossing one leg over the other as if she were in a noble salon rather than a mere café. Her immunorgere was immaculate and tight, without a single wrinkle, and her long red hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders. Her fiery eyes regarded me out of the corner of her eye with that air of superiority that seemed to be tattooed on her face.

"Wow, what’s the reason for this miracle? It’s strange to see you in such a secluded corner," I commented in a calm voice, but Amelia didn’t even flinch. She maintained that arrogant tone she never bothered to hide.

I couldn’t help but let out a small, nasal laugh. It was typical of her to start like this, but it didn’t bother me either. Last year, we’d talked a lot; we shared workouts, homework, even a little feline friend... But this year, everything had changed. Between my own affairs and the new tensions in the classroom, we hadn’t exchanged more than a couple of greetings in passing.