Beyond the Script: The Extra Who Stole the Mangakyo

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Price of Power

I stood before the altar, heart pounding. The ruins around me were silent, save for the distant rustling of wind through broken stone pillars. This was it—the place where the forgotten Easter egg of Mana's Ascension lay hidden.

The Mangekyō Sharingan wasn't just something you could buy from a shop or loot from a dungeon. No, the developers had gone all out with this secret, making it a reward for a grim, obscure ritual—one that most players never bothered with because of its ridiculous cost.

You had to sacrifice something precious.

In the game, this usually meant losing an important ally. But since I had no friends to sacrifice (perks of being an extra), I had to improvise.

My name.

Ethan.

Not just as a title, but as an identity.

In this world, names carried weight. They tied people to their mana, their existence. A name wasn't just a word—it was proof that you belonged to this reality. By offering my original self as tribute, I would be cutting off the last fragment of "Ethan," the dying boy who once lay in a hospital bed, completely erasing any remnants of my past life from this world's records.

It was poetic, in a twisted way.

Taking a deep breath, I knelt before the stone pedestal.

"I abandon my past, my name, and my place in the annals of fate," I whispered, feeling the weight of the words as they left my lips. "Let the old self perish, and from the ashes, let the power I seek be born."

The moment the words left my mouth, the runes on the altar flared crimson. A searing heat shot through my veins, as if my very soul was being branded.

Pain. Blinding, mind-numbing pain.

I gritted my teeth, refusing to scream. My vision blurred as the world twisted around me. Shadows coiled like serpents, and for a split second, I saw something—a reflection of myself, standing in the darkness, eyes glowing crimson.

Then, everything went black.

---

When I came to, I was lying on the cold stone floor, gasping for breath. My body ached as if I had been torn apart and stitched back together.

But I could feel it.

The power lurking beneath my skin. @@novelbin@@

Slowly, I pushed myself up, stumbling toward a nearby puddle of water. I looked down.

And there they were.

Crimson eyes.

Black tomoe spun lazily in the reflection, a telltale sign that the Mangekyō Sharingan had awakened.

I clenched my fists. It worked.

I had gained one of the most broken abilities in this world.

Of course, there was a catch.

Activating the Mangekyō drained mana at an absurd rate. Using its signature technique, Kamui, would leave me dry in seconds. And the infamous copy ability wasn't as simple as stealing someone's skills—no, I needed to have the stats and mana pool to even comprehend high-level techniques. Otherwise, my body would tear itself apart trying to replicate them.

So yeah. It was powerful, but right now? It was more of a self-destruct button than a trump card.

I sighed, running a hand through my black hair. "One problem solved, ten more unlocked. Classic."

---

As I made my way back to the academy grounds, I kept my head low. I had to be careful.

In this world, demonic possession was a real threat. If anyone noticed my sudden change in demeanor, it wouldn't take long before someone accused me of being possessed. And possession victims? They were executed on sight.

I had to play my part. I had to be Alden Blackwood.

Unfortunately, that meant interacting with people.

And my first real challenge came in the form of Seraphina Valeheart—one of the heroines.

---

I turned the corner, lost in thought, only to slam directly into someone.

A flash of white. A soft "oof." And the next thing I knew, I was staring at a pair of blue eyes framed by long, snowy-white hair.

Seraphina everfrost.

The Prodigy of Frost.

One of the top-tier mages in the game, a future war goddess, and one of the protagonist's main love interests.

Oh, and also someone who absolutely despised Alden Blackwood.

"Watch where you're going," she snapped, brushing off her uniform. "Are you blind?"

I resisted the urge to say, "Well, technically, I see better than ever now."

Instead, I forced my face into the usual sneer that Alden was known for. "Perhaps you should watch where you're going, Lady Valeheart."

Her eyes narrowed. "Tch. Still the same arrogant waste of noble blood, I see."

Oh, right. Alden was known for trying to court her in the past, despite being vastly inferior to her in rank. And by court, I meant "pester her relentlessly and get repeatedly frozen in response."

I had to act in character. But not too much. I couldn't afford to make more enemies.

So I smirked, taking a step back and giving a half-hearted bow. "You wound me, my lady. Have I truly left such an impression?"

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "The only thing memorable about you is how persistent you are. You're wasting your time. Stay out of my way."

She turned to leave, but I caught something in her expression. A slight hesitation. A flicker of curiosity.

Alden was an annoying pest, but he was predictable.

I, on the other hand, was an unknown variable.

Good.

The less they suspected, the better.

I waited until she disappeared down the corridor before sighing in relief.

Acting like an arrogant idiot is harder than I thought.

But it was necessary. If anyone—even the protagonist—started questioning why I had suddenly become different, I was screwed.

For now, I needed to lay low. Train. And most importantly... survive.

I glanced at my reflection in a nearby window. The red glow of my Mangekyō Sharingan flickered for a brief second before fading back to black.

A slow smirk crept onto my lips.

This world had given me a death sentence.

Too bad for them—I didn't plan on dying anytime soon.