Extra Nobody

Yoo Yeonha. She was beautiful, resourceful, and a social butterfly with connections that spread across the world like a web of silk. That was the ‘Yoo Yeonha’ I knew from the novel—a figure destined for greatness, someone who would one day be known as the ‘Queen of Seoul.’

But right now, as the Djinn’s massive hands encircled her torso, she felt frail and weak. She had combat skills, sure, but they seemed so trivial compared to the raw, monstrous strength of the creature before us. I was no great fighter either; I was just a beginner, flailing in a world that was far more dangerous than I had anticipated.

My heart raced as I stumbled forward, every instinct in me screaming to save her. I couldn’t let this happen. I refused to let the Djinn have his way. Yet, as I moved, dread settled deep within my gut, a heavy weight that threatened to crush me. The Djinn's malevolent eyes bore into me, filled with condescension, and I felt utterly powerless.

“YOENHA!!” I screamed, my voice cracking with disbelief and fear. The sound echoed around us, but it felt so small against the chaos of the moment. I could see the panic in her eyes, a mix of fear and disbelief that mirrored my own. Time slowed as I watched the Djinn lift her effortlessly, a grotesque smile spreading across its face.

“Such a pretty little thing,” it taunted, its voice dripping with malice. “You should be honored to be my prize.”

Despair clawed at my throat. I was failing her. I was failing the story. I could feel it in my bones.

What was I even doing? I was just a cadet, a wannabe hero caught in a nightmare far beyond my capabilities. The Djinn's grip tightened, and I imagined the sickening crunch of bone as it prepared to make a gruesome display of power.

***

Yeonha could feel the Djinn’s grip tighten around her waist, and a sharp wince of pain shot through her body. She knew that with the creature’s immense strength, it could easily tear her in half, yet it held back, relishing in the moment, savoring the reactions of its toys.

While her hands were free, she was helpless to do anything… but harmlessly flail and swing her bow at the offending hands that wrapped around her waist. “Hey, big guy…” she called out, trying to distract him, and, much to her surprise, the creature turned its monstrous face toward her.

In that fleeting moment of focus, she dropped her bow, letting it fall to the ground. With determination coursing through her veins, she summoned her magic, manipulating it with granular precision as if using telekinesis. The fallen arrow, just below her, came into her grasp effortlessly. It was easier than removing liquid from soaked cloth, and she seized the opportunity.

In one swift motion, she drove the arrowhead toward the Djinn’s remaining eye.

“RAAAraaagh!” The creature howled in agony, and for a moment, she felt a surge of triumph as the pain echoed through the air.

But the victory was short-lived. The Djinn’s grip did not loosen; instead, it intensified, and Yeonha could only stifle a groan of pain as it tightened around her waist. “Uck…” she gasped as she felt a few of her bones creak, wishing for just a moment of relief. It was wishful thinking to believe that a single attack could break its hold. “Ah~ shit…”

The Djinn’s face twisted into a mask of fury, its remaining eye glaring hatefully at her. “I will rip your pretty face from your spine for even thinking you can defy me,” it snarled, raising its other palm to place on her head. She felt the overwhelming weight of its hand, a crushing reminder of how powerless she truly was in this moment.

Despair washed over her like a cold wave.

***

I imagined a watermelon getting squashed.

Seeing Yeonha fight back was a surprise, but it only aggravated the Djinn further. Losing one eye was a significant blow to the creature, and I knew I had to capitalize on that weakness.

I ran with everything I had, generating momentum as I leaped into the air, aiming for the back of the Djinn’s calf. I tucked myself in, turning my body into a human cannonball, focusing all my weight and force at the point of impact.

I landed just on the back of the Djinn’s knee.

The Djinn stumbled, caught off guard, and began to fall backward. In that split second, Yeonha seized the opportunity, prying herself free from the monster’s grip. Relief flooded through me, knowing she was no longer in immediate danger.

“YOU PESKY LITTLE THING!” the Djinn roared, fury evident in its voice as it lunged to grab her again. I wouldn’t let that happen. I hurled a javelin I’d snatched from a nearby display case into the Djinn’s path. The glass had bit into my hand as I punched it, but the adrenaline coursing through me dulled the pain, sharpening my focus.

The Djinn swatted the javelin out of the air, but its attention turned back toward me. Yeonha had slipped from its clutches. I could see the realization dawning on the Djinn’s face that it was now alone. I deduced perhaps harming the civilians must be one of its secondary objectives… It helped this Djinn wasn’t particularly smart.

It became clear then that the museum visitors, the civilians, had escaped. I wasn’t the only Cube Cadet here; others must have found the fire exit and climbed to the rooftop.

“Oh no,” I said, my voice colder than I intended, the dull apathy on my face betraying my own feelings. “It looks like it is just you and me, you ignorant Djinn.”

“Grrr…” the Djinn growled, the sound echoing through the empty space, primal and threatening.

Hope ignited within me, flickering but persistent. I wasn’t fighting for my life alone anymore— I was fighting for a story I loved. “It’s a dance-off, you fucking giant pimple!” I grinned like a lunatic.

I maintained eye contact with the Djinn, and with not an ounce of emotion, I declared, “Yeonha, this is the new strategy. You will hide and shoot him and attack him just like we always do. But this time, I will use my Gift to decrease the presence of your arrows and maybe the other projectiles you can throw at him.” I revealed the new strategy out loud while completely ignoring the growling monster right in front of me.

In retrospect, what I said could easily be interpreted as a bluff.

Despite his beast-like features and less-than-stellar intelligence, the Djinn was no mindless brute; he had enough intelligence to recognize anxiety, fear, and tension. My psychological tactics might just work on him. I could almost feel the unease radiating from the Djinn, like a bad odor wafting from a rotten fish.

“Hey,” I lowered my knees, assuming the most dramatic stance I could muster. “Come on, let’s play…”

My body was screaming at me in pain, but the adrenaline kept me going. Making things from a distance decrease their presence was a challenge, but who cared about technicalities when I was about to die? I strained my senses, anticipating Yeonha's arrows, preparing myself for the next move.

I crouched in my spot, provoking the Djinn to attack. From now on, I planned to evade and let the Djinn bleed out like a balloon losing air. The gushing dark red from his throat told me he was losing blood, but he was still full of energy—like an overcaffeinated toddler refusing to nap.

I had to outlast him.

The weight of the dagger rested in my palm, light and perfect for inflicting fatal blows in close-quarters combat. Its most notable feature was how it didn’t exhaust me as much as other weapons. But despite its appealing qualities, I finally let go of it. No matter how light it felt, I realized I could only commit to evasion for now. The Djinn's skin was already tough, and with his demonic powers, he was practically invulnerable to my attacks. If only I had some light attribute equipment, but alas, I was just a guy with a very cool dagger.

I plastered a smile on my face, brainwashing myself with optimism. “Hey, I’m now unarmed… Don’t tell me you’re still… scared?” I taunted the Djinn once more, trying to maintain an air of confidence while my insides were doing backflips.

The Djinn's eye narrowed, and I could see the rage simmering beneath the surface. I felt like I was playing a game of psychological chicken, but I wasn’t about to blink first.

The Djinn lunged forward, a mass of muscle and fury. I sidestepped, barely avoiding his swinging arm. The rush of wind from his missed strike ruffled my hair. I felt a surge of hope; if I could keep this up, maybe—just maybe—I’d find a way to win this ridiculous showdown.

As the Djinn stumbled forward, I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Is that all you’ve got? Come on, I’m just getting warmed up!”

***

Yoo Yeonha’s life was most important to her. She had many things to accomplish, a Guild to lead someday, and the weight of that future loomed large. After deliberating for what felt like an eternity, she decided that escape was the only option. Using the displays around her as cover, she began her search for the fire exit.

But as she approached the door, she found it difficult to proceed. Hearing Hyon Hyung’s new strategy was incredibly annoying. Her hand felt inexplicably glued to the doorknob. Kneeling low and away from the Djinn’s angry gaze, she battled internally over her next move.

“The best option right now is for me to immediately secure my escape.”

That was the logical thing to do.

As the future Guild Leader, she would have to make hard decisions that often straddled the gray areas of morality—sometimes even darker dealings that would challenge her principles.

“Fuck.” The word slipped from her lips, raw and unfiltered. It was a first for someone who prided herself on being cultured and elegant. “Fuck,” she repeated, clearly irritated by the dilemma before her.

Best options? They felt laughable. What she needed right now was to make the right choice.

Against her instincts, she decided to return to the battlefield. Steeling her resolve, she lurked through the museum, using debris and larger displays as cover. This was what she had aimed for in their plan to counterattack the Djinn, but inexperience and the heat of the moment had led to her initial strategy falling apart.

But now it was different. She had gained experience—though only recently—and believed she could finally adapt. She was an archer, and it was time to embrace that role.

Yet, the thought of being an archer was marred by the memory of Nayun, reminding her of her own fears of inferiority, especially when it came to Shin Jonghak. The desire to prove herself as better than Nayun clashed with the paralyzing fear of failure.

During her first day at the Agent Military Academy, she had learned how to wield a weapon. Before that, her interests had been purely feminine—fashion, the stock market, business, management—everything that would prepare her to lead her Guild one day. As a young girl, she had harbored sincere dreams for her future.

From her hidden vantage point, she watched as Hyon Hyung executed evasive maneuvers, kicking the bow aside in a direction the Djinn couldn’t see. Realizing his intentions, Yeonha hurriedly retrieved the bow and set about searching for the scattered arrows around the museum.

When she finished, her gaze fell on Hyon Hyung’s torn left sleeve, revealing the purple bruising on his arm. A pang of guilt hit her, and she promised herself to do better.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly.

Yoo Yeonha, Cube Cadet, was now battle-ready. Adjusting herself to her new role and eager to provide cover fire for Hyon Hyung, she nocked her first true arrow, determination coursing through her veins. She would prove herself—not just better than Nayun, but better than everyone. She would prove this by living through this encounter.

As she released her arrow, she darted off to another location. Accuracy was crucial for a long-range fighter, but so was movement. Yeonha’s footwork showed she was more than capable.

Sadly, her aim still needed work. She intended to hit the Djinn’s other eye, but external factors led the arrow to land somewhere else entirely.

Yet, the Djinn was so focused on Hyon Hyung that it didn’t even detect the incoming arrow. It embedded itself in its shoulder with a satisfying thunk. The arrow, belonging to the museum, had a history of its own and was of better-than-average quality. Added to that was Yeonha’s magic power, which amplified its effectiveness.

Never before had Yeonha experienced such exhilaration in combat. Usually, she was cold and calculating, optimizing her strategies with a leader’s ruthless efficiency. But this time, there was a twisted thrill in her actions. “It’s fun,” she realized.

With renewed focus, she nocked another arrow on her bow, this time taking her time.

“Release.” Under her breath, she let go of stray thoughts along with the arrow, focusing only on what lay ahead—the enemy.

The arrow whistled through the air, tracing a beautiful arc before landing with a crunch.

“OUCH! FUCK YOU, YEONHA! It pierced my bone!” Hyon Hyung’s voice echoed through the museum.

Yeonha’s eyes widened in shock. “!?”

Her heart sank as confusion washed over her. She silently cried, ‘I’m sorry…’