An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge - Chapter 265

Chapter 265: Arthur stepping in

Whether it was his past life or this one, Alex had never tolerated being mocked. Even as a shut-in NEET, humiliation had been the one thing he couldn’t accept. Now, as Alex Stale—a noble, the so-called hero, the protagonist of this world—it was even more intolerable.

Since transmigrating, everything had come easily. He had never been beaten down like this, never humiliated to this extent. A searing rage welled in his chest, stronger than anything he had felt before, pushing his battered body to move.

His wounds screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain. His breathing grew rapid, each deep inhale burning through his lungs but clearing his mind. The more his fury rose, the more he felt a torrent of magical energy flood his veins, fueling him like a reserve he hadn’t tapped before.

The man before him stood smug and arrogant, and in that blank haze, Alex recalled Luke’s words.

“Remember, boy. There is nothing more dangerous than a disciplined man. If he’s your enemy, throw away your morals. Cheat, scheme, do whatever it takes. Nothing beats the man who’s given up on being good.”

Alex’s gaze hardened.

The enemy shifted his eyes downward when he noticed movement. A hand, trembling and bloodied, crawled up from Alex’s side and clutched at his waist like that of a dying man.

“You… die… pathetically,” Alex muttered, his voice low and broken.

The man tilted his head, amused at the sight. This boy, half-dead, still trying to talk? His hands itched to hit him again. He leaned closer, curious.

Alex clutched at the man’s belt with one hand, the other pressing against his ribs as if just barely holding himself up. His lips trembled.

“Please… I beg you… spare me. I can help you—pass information inside the academy. Take me in. I’m nobility… I have money… your organization could use someone like me. I don’t want to die.” His voice cracked, eyes brimming with tears.

The man blinked, then burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.

“Pfft—hahaha! This is rich! I’ve had plenty beg for their lives, but this? Asking me to recruit you? Boy, are your brains in your knees, or did you just have some sudden revelation?”

His laughter echoed in the empty space—until, mid-sentence, every nerve in his body screamed danger. His spine went cold. His instincts roared at him to move, but by the time he reacted, it was already too late—

Swishhh!

The mana in Alex’s body surged violently, gushing out from where his palms pressed against the man’s body. A chilling light spread from his hands—then, in the next instant, two massive ice spikes erupted.

One drove deep into the man’s left waist.

The other shot straight through his crotch, tearing everything in its path, and burst out from his backside with a sickening crunch.

“GUHHHHHHHHHH!”

The man’s jaw stretched open, but no scream came out—only a strangled, broken gasp. His eyes bulged wide, bloodshot, shaking violently from the unbearable pain. His lips trembled, opening and closing without sound, while his muscles spasmed and twitched uncontrollably, like a dying animal.

His face drained pale. His breath stopped short, throat locked as if something heavy was choking him. The agony of losing what no man wanted to lose could not be put into words.

Blood gushed from the torn flesh between his legs, splattering across Alex’s face.

The man’s legs convulsed violently before collapsing outward in a grotesque V-shape. He toppled to the ground, writhing, his shrill cries echoing in broken fragments.

“AHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH!”

He clutched at himself, rolling on the floor, weeping for what had been destroyed. Agony and despair swallowed him whole—never in his worst nightmares had he imagined dying like this.

From above, Arthur, perched on a branch, flinched hard. His body tensed, his legs snapping shut instinctively as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Shit…” he muttered under his breath. “He’s more vicious than the assassins. Note to self—never piss him off.”

Alex stood over the man’s crumpled body, eyes cold.

“Even if you crawl away alive,” he said with a snort, “your future generations are done for. Consider that the price of crossing me.”

The masked man’s eyes fluttered, vision fading. He looked up at the boy in front of him—Alex’s face was blank, unreadable, like he hadn’t just torn him apart. No anger, no satisfaction, no pity. Just cold detachment.

That stare alone crushed him. For the first time, fear spread through his chest. He regretted it all. He had laughed, mocked, beaten this kid bloody. But the boy had endured it, biding his time, waiting for an opening. And when he struck back, the cruelty was beyond anything the man had ever faced.

Alex turned his gaze away. To him, this one was already a dead man.

Then a voice cut through the silence.

“Oi. What’s with all the screaming? Don’t tell me you still haven’t finished that brat.”

Alex forced his head around. Another masked man stood at the edge of the clearing—the one who had chased Alan earlier.

“What did you do to him?” Alex rasped.

The newcomer ignored the question. His eyes swept over the scene, lingering on Number Four clutching his ruined crotch. A smirk crept across his face.

“How many times have I told you, Number Four? Your little habit of toying with targets would get you in trouble. And look at you now… you’ve lost something precious, haven’t you?”

“Shut your damn mouth!” Number Four snarled, staggering, hand pressed to his crotch. His eyes burned with rage. “Give me a potion. Now! I’ll make this bastard regret being born.”

“Relax.” The man chuckled and tossed him a vial.

Alex tried to move, tried to stop him, but his body wouldn’t obey. His mana was gone, his strength spent. All he could do was watch, helpless, as the man gulped the potion.

Color rushed back to Number Four’s face. His breathing steadied. He straightened, eyes fixed on Alex like a predator spotting crippled prey. A dagger flashed in his grip as he stalked forward.

“Well?” he sneered. “Any other tricks up your sleeve, boy? Or are you done?”

Alex spat blood in his face.

The man wiped his cheek slowly, then laughed. “Pathetic. I thought you’d at least beg properly.” He pressed the blade against Alex’s throat. “Time to say goodbye.”

Alex closed his eyes. His chest tightened. ‘If there’s a next life… let me be born as a farmer’s son in the countryside. Quiet. Simple. Away from all this.’

But the pain never came.

Instead, a wet sound tore through the air.

He opened his eyes.

Alex’s chest heaved, eyes wide and bloodshot. Number Four was kneeling in front of him, struggling to stay upright after the potion, dagger still half-raised. The masked man who had taunted him lingered at the edge of the clearing, hands flexing as if waiting for a chance to strike.

Then a calm, sharp voice cut through the tension.

“You know… your theatrics are impressive. Really. Almost made me feel like I should clap,” Arthur said, stepping out from the shadows. He tilted his head, inspecting Alex with that casual, infuriating smirk. “Almost. But don’t worry, kid, you’re still pathetic.”

Alex blinked, caught off guard. “A-Arthur?”

Arthur’s gaze flicked to the remaining masked man. “And you… trying to slip away already? That’s cute.”

Before the man could react, Arthur’s hand shot out. A faint motion, barely visible, and the masked man’s dagger clattered to the ground. His knees buckled as if gravity itself had turned against him. He hit the dirt with a soft grunt, completely neutralized without Arthur even moving from his spot.

“Effortless,” Arthur muttered. He dusted off his cloak, eyes back on Alex. “You see, this is what happens when you wait too long to do anything smart. Kids like you get lucky once, then end up embarrassed.”

Alex swallowed hard, trying to hide the mix of relief and humiliation burning in him.

Arthur crouched slightly and pulled two vials from his belt. “Here. One for your injuries, one for your mana. Don’t make me regret giving them to you.”

Alex grabbed the healing potion first, gulping it down. Heat spread through his body, easing the fatigue and the bruising. Then the mana potion. A surge of energy shot through him, his senses sharpening instantly. His vision cleared, and his lungs filled without pain.

He exhaled shakily, blinking up at Arthur. “Th… thank you. I… I don’t know what to say…”

Arthur waved him off with a faint smirk. “Save it. Don’t get used to it. Just… try not to die in the meantime. If you’re lucky, you might keep up with me next time.”

Alex’s chest tightened, a mix of gratitude, frustration, and embarrassment swirling inside him. He wanted to argue, to claim he could handle things himself—but Arthur had already proven who was in charge. All he could do was nod and steel himself for whatever came next.

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