Chapter 0: Mr. Extra A
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 0: Mr. Extra A
Have you ever seen something like that?
When you’re watching TV, you’ll often see these things called Tokusatsu shows. They’re stories where people in skin-tight spandex suits come out to represent Earth and fight against villains.
The hero and the villain trade blows every time, but the villain’s foot soldiers are usually blown away by a single hit from the protagonist.
“At that point, wouldn't it be better if they weren't even there?”
That was the first thing I said while watching TV in my tiny studio apartment.
One punch. One kick. One flashy skill.
Regardless of the method, the foot soldiers—the extras—standing nearby are usually sent flying. It’s only natural. If you look online, nobody pays any attention to those extras.
Not that I can complain. Of course, I have no intention of complaining, either.
A person who looks at a common weed on the side of the road and leaves a sentimental review couldn't possibly be a normal, ordinary human being.
I’d laugh my head off while watching TV like that, and then, when a notification popped up on my phone, I’d head to work. In that regard, it’s a pretty great workplace. Once the superiors cook up a plan, I just wait for the call and head out.
I don’t need to provide ideas, and I don’t have to take responsibility for any tasks. Of course, it’s not like my ideas would be accepted even if I did offer them.
Most importantly, I don’t have to talk to my superiors much. Is it because I lack social skills? To be honest, I do have my doubts about my social abilities. After all, I’ve never really had any significant social interactions here.
However, seeing as I’m treated without any bullying or discrimination compared to the other employees at work, it doesn't seem like there’s a major problem. Then again, I can’t exactly say everything is fine, since we don’t talk much even amongst ourselves...
Anyway, I’ve rambled on too long. To get back to the point: have you ever looked closely at those extras I mentioned? If you haven't, I want to tell you that you are perfectly normal. Because...
“Take this!”
“Aaaargh!”
The being that gets sent flying by a single kick from an opponent in a red suit. The one whose job is to clock out the moment he clocks in—that inconspicuous extra is me.
If there’s one difference, it’s that while what you see on TV follows a script, my life is 100% unscripted reality.
Today, I was floored by a single punch again, while the Executive fights the enemies in front of me, firing off flashy beams of light.
This is my daily routine, and this is my reality.
This is the story of me, A—Extra A of the Evil Organization.