Transmigrated into the Extra Chapter as an Extra

Chapter 15 : Whispers of Trouble

"What?"

Arzen was too stunned to form a longer sentence. Seriously, what is wrong with this guy?

"Are you having lunch somewhere else again today?"

Carsel's voice carried a light, questioning tone, as if they were just casually chatting about the weather.

"Huh?"

"I haven't seen you in the cafeteria these days."

The smile on Carsel's face didn't falter, but a chill ran down Arzen's spine. His mind raced through a million horrifying scenarios. Was Carsel... monitoring him? Worse, could Carsel somehow know he'd been meeting Raizel for lunch?

The idea alone made Arzen's stomach churn. He kept his eyes glued to his desk, refusing to look up at Carsel. Even more importantly, he avoided looking at Raizel, who sat directly in front of him. There was some solace in the assumption that Raizel wouldn't join this conversation, though. That small relief was all Arzen had to cling to.

"So, I figured you might be having lunch somewhere else,can I join you?"

"I—"

Arzen's voice cracked slightly as he floundered for a response. Words wouldn't come. His mind screamed at him to find an excuse, any excuse, but nothing coherent formed.

Carsel suddenly leaned closer, his lips brushing dangerously close to Arzen's ear. The move was so unexpected that Arzen almost jolted out of his chair. Carsel's voice dropped into a whisper, carrying an oddly conspiratorial tone.

"I think Raizel is kinda mad at me. He's been avoiding me at lunchtime, and I don't know what to do."

Arzen's entire body went rigid. Every fiber of his being screamed, Don't react. Don't give anything away.

Carsel's words echoed in his mind, intertwining with his own damning realization: Well... that guy's been having lunch with me.

But there was no way Arzen could admit to that. Not to Carsel. Not to anyone. And it seemed like Raizel was intent on keeping their arrangement under wraps, too.

"I'm sorry, but I—"

Arzen's voice faltered again as he struggled to find the right words. It wasn't that he preferred to be with Raizel more than with Carsel. That would be ridiculous. But something about Carsel's presence felt... suffocating. Unease prickled at Arzen's skin whenever Carsel got too close. It wasn't dislike, exactly—just discomfort. And if he had to choose between the awkward tension with Raizel and Carsel's overwhelming energy, well...

Raizel was the lesser of two evils.

Thankfully, Carsel didn't press further. His cheery voice cut through the awkward pause.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to force you. Never mind, then."

Before Arzen could even exhale in relief, Carsel was already back at his seat, as if the conversation had never happened.

Two months. Two whole months of the same repetitive, suffocating cycle. If someone told Arzen his life had been put on some sort of cosmic loop where the gods rolled dice to decide which main character would bother him today, he would've believed them.

Every lunch, Raizel appeared with his perfectly packed, annoyingly perfect lunch boxes. Every single time, Raizel acted like it was Arzen's duty to eat the food he brought, as if not eating it would insult some ancient honor code. Meanwhile, Carsel was like a puppy with boundless energy—constantly hovering, chattering, and asking for attention.

And Cain? Cain still acted like Arzen didn't exist. Honestly, that was the one thing Arzen appreciated about him. It was like Cain had read the manual on how to properly ignore people, and for that, Arzen was grateful.