The Extra Who Shouldn’t Exist - Chapter 293

Chapter 293: Chapter 293 : The underworld and a lost kid, maybe
“Mr. God of Death, Hades… I’d like to have a word with you.”

Alex’s voice echoed through the hospital room, low but firm.

For a moment, nothing happened.

No divine voice. No system message. No tremor in the air.

One long minute passed in complete silence.

Azrael stood to the side, watching. ‘Yeah… he’s not sane,’ he thought. ‘Calling out to a god like that? Maybe that’s why he hasn’t killed me yet. He’s too broken to care.’

Then it happened.

A black aura erupted around Alex—dense, suffocating, and ancient. It surged outward like a living storm and swallowed him whole.

“Alex! What are you doing?!” Azrael shouted, instinctively rushing forward.

Before he could reach him, the dark sphere pulsed once and hurled Azrael away like a rag doll. He slammed into the wall, sliding down with a groan as the world spun around him.

—-

Meanwhile When Alex opened his eyes again, the hospital room was gone.

He felt something damp and cold under his palms. The sky above him was pitch-black, not like night, but like an endless void that swallowed all light. The overwhelming sensation of being watched seeped into his bones—as if countless unseen eyes observed his every breath from high above.

The ground was tar-like and sticky, clinging to his boots. A rancid stench hung in the air—decay, blood, and something older than either. The air itself felt solid and icy; every breath he took was like forcing jagged stones through his lungs.

‘Where… is this?’

He already knew the answer.

This was the Underworld.

Not heaven or hell—just a realm of endless torment, where the souls of the dead drifted in pain once their lifetimes ended.

“So, you are here.”

A young voice floated toward him, strangely clear amid the oppressive gloom.

“The blessed one.”

Alex turned toward the voice, expecting some towering skeleton king or robed god.

Instead, what he saw made him blink.

A child stood there. At most eight to ten years old. Her hair was bright blond, cascading down in soft, silky waves that contrasted sharply with the blackened wasteland, and her eyes glowed an ominous crimson—far too sharp and ancient for such a small face.

Her skin was pale, almost porcelain-like, and her petite frame made her look like a doll crafted with excessive care. Yet despite her cute, chibi-like proportions, an invisible pressure radiated from her—a cold, lethal aura that screamed danger.

She wore a small black coat with silver trim, sleeves slightly too long for her arms, and dark boots that didn’t quite match her innocent look. In that eerie landscape, she somehow looked both adorable and terrifying at the same time.

Alex stared at her. ‘A little kid… in a place like this?’

He approached slowly, forcing a casual expression. “A lost child here, huh…?”

He reached out and patted her head. “Alright, kid. What’s your father’s name? I’ll take you back to him.”

For a moment, she froze—then her eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed under the patting, almost enjoying it.

Then realization hit her.

Her small hand shot up and grabbed his wrist, and with surprising strength she hurled him several feet away.

“What do you think you’re doing, touching my hair, mortal?!” she shouted, cheeks flushed with indignation.

Alex hit the sticky ground, flipping onto his back with a grunt. He rubbed his lower back and glared. “What the hell ?! I was just trying to help!”

The girl folded her arms, nose lifted. “If you weren’t the Lord’s guest, I would’ve taken your head on the spot.”

Alex muttered under his breath, “What a violent kid… Alright, enough fooling around. Who are you?”

The little girl’s mood shifted instantly. She puffed out her chest proudly, a smug smile tugging at her lips. “Now you’re asking the proper question, mortal.”

She placed a hand on her hip. “My name is Roselia.”

Alex waited, unimpressed.

She grinned wider. “And I am one of the highest-ranked Grim Reapers in the entire Underworld.”

Alex’s mind short-circuited for a moment. ‘This girl… is a grim reaper?’

“You’re joking, right, Roselia,” Alex said, exasperation dripping from his words.

The smile vanished from her face. Her red eyes narrowed dangerously. “You dare question my authority, mortal?”

The air around her changed.

A tide of death energy exploded from her small body—pure, concentrated, overwhelming. It bore down on Alex like an ocean of graves, ancient and inexorable.

Alex reacted instantly. ‘Tch… so she’s serious.’

“System,” he thought, ‘death energy. Now.’

[ Using cosmic essence to create death energy. ]

His own death aura surged out to meet hers, the two forces colliding with a soundless shockwave that shook the dark plane.

Then Alex felt it.

For the first time, pure dread crawled up his spine.

Roselia’s power casually crushed his own. His death energy was torn apart like a child’s sandcastle under a tidal wave. Compared to her, his aura was fragile—immature.

Her power hit him like a hammer.

Pain exploded through him. His vision blurred. His knees buckled as his body crashed to the ground.

He felt something else then—a wrenching, splitting sensation as if someone grabbed his entire existence and tore it down the middle.

His body remained where it fell—but he found himself floating slightly above it.

He stared down at his own lifeless form. ‘My… body…?’

Roselia stood before his disembodied soul now, folding her arms again. “Now,” she said coldly, “you understand who you’re dealing with, mortal.”

Alex’s soul looked between her and his fallen body, swallowing hard. ‘She… separated my body and soul like it was nothing…’

Then Roselia’s expression shifted again. The deadly aura faded, replaced by a mischievous grin.

“Relax,” she said in a sing-song tone. “You’re a guest. I’m not allowed to kill you.”

She snapped her fingers lightly.

In an instant, soul and flesh snapped back together. Alex gasped, instinctively grabbing his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his breathing, his limbs—all real again.

He ran a hand over his arms, shoulders, face, unable to hide the shock. ‘She really tore my soul out… like pulling a thread from cloth…’

Roselia watched him with smug satisfaction. “Now that you’ve had a little demonstration,” she said, “maybe you’ll remember to show a little respect next time, blessed one.”

—–

Roselia watched Alex patting himself in disbelief, a smug little smile tugging at her lips.

“Looks like you’ve learned your lesson,” she said, folding her arms. “So treat me with respe—”

She stopped mid-word.

A cold, ancient voice echoed through the Underworld, vibrating in the black sky itself.

{ Roselia. Stop playing around… and do as our Lord has instructed. }

Color drained from Roselia’s face in an instant. Her eyes widened and she dropped to her knees so fast the sticky ground shook.

“I’m sorry, my Lord!” she yelled, bowing again and again. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear—please forgive me!”

Alex watched, stunned. ‘So she really was telling the truth…’ Whoever that voice belonged to shook even this terrifying child to the core.

Inside his mind, the system chimed in, sounding far too amused.

[ Host, I never imagined—even in my wildest calculations—that you’d get beaten up by a child. ]

Alex’s eye twitched. ‘I didn’t get beaten, okay.’

[ You did. ]

Alex muttered, “This useless thing won’t let it go…”

Roselia stood slowly, dusting off her coat, cheeks still tinged red with embarrassment. She cleared her throat, regaining her pride. “Mortal, you should be grateful beyond measure. Our Lord—the Lord of the Underworld himself—has chosen you as his avatar.”

Alex sighed. “To be honest, Rose—”

Her glare snapped to him instantly.

“—Miss Roselia,” he corrected quickly. “For you, it might be a big deal. But for me? Not really. I’ve gotten similar offers.” He crossed his arms. “Even the Goddess of Life, Elyndra, made the same offer. And plenty of others. So tell me… why should I pick your Lord over the rest?”

Roselia stared at him quietly, her expression slowly shifting. ‘Even Elyndra is interested in him?’ she thought. ‘Who the hell is this mortal…?’

She took a breath, straightened her back, and spoke with uncharacteristic seriousness. “I’ve been entrusted by my King to bring you under his grace. I won’t break that trust.”

She lifted her chin proudly. “So I’ll give you a deal. If you become his avatar, you’ll be granted access to the Underworld itself. And I will personally teach you how to truly wield death energy. Not that… pathetic imitation you used earlier. Consider it an honor.”

She smiled, looking very pleased with herself.

“Access to the Underworld, huh…” Alex scratched his chin. “Doesn’t sound like a bad offer.”

Then he sighed. “But it’s still not enough. What else?”

Roselia’s eye twitched. “You want more?”

“Of course,” Alex replied. “I don’t see much benefit for me yet. I bet the other gods are more generous.”

Roselia clicked her tongue, thinking hard, then snapped her fingers as an idea lit up in her eyes. “Fine! I’ll let you pat my head. Consider it the highest honor I can grant.”

Alex just stared at her. ‘Is she serious?’

The system’s dry voice came again.

[ I think she is, Host. ]

Alex rubbed his face. “Yeah… this isn’t going anywhere. I want to talk to your King directly. This is between him and me.”

Roselia frowned. “Do you think he has that much time to talk to just anyone? He’s busy. He entrusted *me* with this.” Then, after a moment of thought, she added, “But fine. If that’s not enough, tell me what you want. I’ll listen. If your demands are reasonable, I’ll agree.”

Alex watched her carefully. ‘She’s… actually gullible. This might work.’

He pretended to think deeply, folding his arms. “Alright. I’ll accept everything you already offered—Underworld access, training, blah blah.” His eyes sharpened. “But I want one extra thing. Just one small favor.”

Roselia nodded, puffing her chest again. “Say it. I may look small, but I am very generous.”

Alex didn’t hesitate. “I want the soul of someone who arrived here recently.”

The playful smirk vanished instantly from Roselia’s face. The air grew colder, the darkness around them thickening like a living shadow.

Her red eyes locked onto Alex, no longer playful—only deadly serious as if he said something he should never have.