The Extra's Unspeakable Circumstances (1)

Clearly, I'd just gone to sleep and woken up, but suddenly my line of sight had dropped.

"Huh...?"

On top of that, forget changing my voice, it was so childish it felt like I should burst into tears right then and there.

...And an unfamiliar ceiling to boot.

I didn't even need to look in a mirror to know. My sturdy early-thirties body had unmistakably turned into that of an ageless little kid.

"Ahh..."

I tried the classic cheek pinch, and it stung. So, not a dream, at least.

Now, what the hell was going on?

It wasn't regression or anything. Just looking at the unfamiliar woman who came in, announcing it was time for kindergarten drop-off, made that clear.

Her face was nothing like my mom's.

No matter how hard I tried to force the unfilial thought that maybe she'd aged badly over the years, the difference was too stark for that to hold water.

So, it was confirmed: I was no longer in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my original body, but someone else's.

"Be careful and have fun playing."

The unfamiliar woman loaded me into her car and dropped me off in front of a kindergarten with a small playground.

Judging by the scenery along the way to drop-off, the backdrop seemed mercifully modern, at least. No life-or-death battles or fantasy world without modern safety nets. That was a relief.

So, I'd just possessed the body of some kid I had zero connection to?

As I was racking my brain over it, he came running up.

"Juuun-wooo~!"

A boy dashing over from afar, waving his arms wildly.

Even as a kid, his features were sharp and striking. If he grew up without ugly-fying, he'd probably make plenty of girls cry.

Whatever the case, it looked like this kid and I were friends.

I glanced at the name tag on his clothes to call his name back—and froze.

"Kang... Min... jun?"

A strangely familiar name. No way I could forget it.

It was the name of the protagonist in the romcom world I'd been reading right before bed.

Ding-. A short alarm chimed from the direction of the oven timer.

At the same time, a sweet, nutty aroma began wafting through the air. The cookies were probably done baking.

I turned off my phone, where short-form videos had been playing, and hauled my heavy body out of bed.

The scorching heat hit me the moment I opened the oven door. The air that had just crisped the chocolate chips rushed out through the gap.

Golden chocolate chip cookies, baked to perfection at 180°C for about ten minutes.

Remembering how I'd burned my hand grabbing them carelessly last time, I slipped on the heatproof mitts hanging nearby and carefully pulled them out.

Neatly arranged on white foil paper. I'd paid attention to their shapes while making them, but a few duds were still visible.

I picked one up and took a big bite. It crunched just right.

And bursting through were the sweet chocolate chips.

Ugly shapes aside, the taste was spot-on.

'This should hit three stars.'

As I casually guessed, the notification window popped up without fail.

The translucent notification floating in mid-air confirmed the cookies were three stars, as expected.

Four would have been nicer, but this was plenty good enough.

Next, I counted how many had earned stars.

"This'll hold me for a week."

Out of the over ten I'd baked, about four had gotten stars. I packaged those separately, adding cushioning to prevent breakage.

"Ah. Time's up already."

It was already around 10 a.m. Second period started at 10:30, so if I didn't get ready and head out now, I'd definitely be late.

I hurriedly changed and stepped outside, hit by a chilly breeze.

The sun was blazing, but the temperature was surprisingly cool.

"Brr... cold."

I shivered briefly and zipped my windbreaker all the way up.

Maple leaves dotted the roadside. Not quite peak season yet, so they were sparse, here and there.

The sweltering summer, where I'd lived with the AC blasting every day, had passed, and autumn was creeping in.

Back in my original world, weird weather meant autumn felt like summer half the time. But here, the seasons changed honestly on schedule.

I personally loved spring and fall weather, so I appreciated the setup.

"Ugh... this is killer."

My dorm was near the university, but the path there was brutal.

On snowy days, it was steep enough for a sled. And unnecessarily long, turning every commute into hell.

Every time, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I wanted to move, but...

'Can't find a place like this again.'

Cheap rent for the size. Decent neighbors. And a landlord who fixed anything broken with a hearty laugh.

It more than made up for the steep uphill hike to school.

Lost in random thoughts as I walked, the traffic light at the top of the hill came into view. The endpoint of this hellish road.

"Huff... huff..."

By the time I reached the light, my heart was pounding like a drum. I'd walked faster than usual, and it was acting up extra.

"Hiii..."

"Yo, Min-jun. Hey."

A half-hearted, raspy familiar voice. It was Kang Min-jun, the original novel's protagonist.

Tall at around 180-something cm, handsome as hell. The promising features from childhood hadn't faded—they'd sharpened even more.

His dark circles dragged down low, but instead of looking hollow, they gave him a decadent vibe.

Proof: a group of girls passing by were sneaking glances, giggling and nudging each other. Probably debating who should ask for his number first.

"Ugh... I'm dying."

"Dude, back off a bit."

The unpleasant stench hit the second he opened his mouth. There was a hint of mint from brushing, but the thick booze reek dominated.

"That bad? Hangover must be brutal. You good?"

"Good my ass... I'm basically dead."

He waved it off, playing up the dying act. Then shot me a sly, glossy-eyed glance.

...His intent was obvious.

"Here, have one."

"Ooh, Jun-woo!"

The fatigue-recovery cookie worked like a game potion—not instant, but gradual. Still, fast enough that for Min-jun's level of hangover, an hour should get him back to normal.

"Whoa... hangover's fading already. I think this every time, but you didn't spike these with drugs, right?"

He wolfed it down, crumbs of chocolate smeared on his face from how fast he ate.

And yet, here he was accusing me of nonsense.

"Same crap again? No more next time."

"Sorry, Lord Jun-woo!"

To my half-joking threat, he bowed a full 90 degrees.

It kinda pissed me off, but the light changed, so I didn't bother saying more.

"Don't overdo it. Let's cross."

"Aw, you forgive me? Cookies next time too?"

"...Sigh. Yeah, forgiven. Hurry up."

"Nice. Heh."

Only then did he lift his head, grinning mischievously with his tongue out a bit.

Cookie crumbs on his face and that expression? As his childhood friend, it was nauseating. But to a stranger? Adorably cheeky.

Handsome guys make anything look good.

The notification timed perfectly. Proof that Min-jun was blissed out by my cookie.

The original story was a plain modern romcom. So this notification? Never mentioned, didn't exist. A perk I got from possession.

Whether it was a perk or curse with the terminal timer, who knew.

'At least there's a way to extend it...'

Remaining life now: just over 50 days. My mental red line was 50.

Started at 365, but testing without refills down to 30 nearly sent me to the afterlife. Now I kept it topped up steadily.

Since it trickled up bit by bit, 50 was a hard-won buffer.

To extend: Give impactful stuff to characters with decent roles in the original.

This damn system was super unhelpful, not explaining basics. Took a ton of trial-and-error to figure it out.

"Oh, Kim Seo-yeon. Hey."

"Hey."

We split from Min-jun midway. In the lecture hall for class, Kim Seo-yeon—who'd arrived first—greeted me.

Silver-dyed hair that stood out. Naturally, one of the main heroines.

I sat in the empty seat next to her and pulled a cookie from my bag.

"Here, gift."

"Thanks."

Like with Min-jun, I'd given her one weekly since first semester, so she took it casually.

She glanced at the clock up front, unwrapped it, and bit in. Her eyes went wide.

Even more than expected.

She'd been half-dead on her desk earlier, just like Min-jun—probably pounded drinks last night.

She ate with her mouth clamped shut, so no smell, but come Monday morning, what else could make her tired? She loved booze too much.

"Whoa, Jun-woo. Got any cookies left? Gimme one."

My classmate across the way suddenly piped up. Seo-yeon's blissful munching must've piqued his curiosity.

We exchanged greetings regularly, so I could've spared a plain one, but...

"Sorry, that was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the last."

I shook my head apologetically. Rushed out this morning, forgot the normals.

Two starred ones left, but no point giving to someone who wouldn't extend my life.

"Ah, oh well."

He smacked his lips watching her, but turned away when the prof entered.

Maybe 'cause of the cooking perk, but my cookies often drew eyes.

No count limit, and I'd open a shop. But escaping this damn timer came first—barely keeping up as is.

"Now, according to this epsilon-delta definition..."

The green board filled with curly equations. True to his rep for hardcore lectures, no breaks—just writing, erasing, repeat.

'Heard this before...'

Decades later, memory was fuzzy. Basically new.

Scribbling equations from the lecture PDF flew by. Soon, 11:45—end time.

"Time's up. I'll post the assignment. Enjoy lunch."

Prof checked his watch and wrapped it.

Ten minutes to the cafeteria. Even leaving now, seats would be gone.

'Better than dragging...'

Good enough. I packed up, then nudged Seo-yeon, who'd recovered some.

"Whatcha eating?"

"Dunno... gotta check with the others?"

"Others" meant Min-jun, basically.

She was lively, opinionated. But anything Min-jun-related? Instant yes.

So menu choice was mine. Min-jun always backed me—especially after today's cookie. Near 100%.

'Craving spicy today...'

Congee-like breakfast plus cookies made me want spicy stew like jjajangmyeon or mala tang.

"Jun-woo! Seo-yeon! Over here."

Unlike our prof, his class ended early. Min-jun waved near the building entrance.

Next to him: a girl with blue hair. Lee Soo-min, another main heroine.

"Soo-min. Hey."

"..."

She averted her eyes silently. Half a year in, still not close.

She'd eat cookies fine, though. I turned to Min-jun.

"Min-jun, got lunch plans?"

"Nah, not yet. You?"

"Yeah. Chinese?"

"Cool with me... you guys?"

"Fine by me."

"..."

Unlike the other two, Soo-min looked miffed. But said nothing.

Zing-. Instead, she glared daggers, full of resentment.

Speak up if you're unhappy...

Kim Seo-yeon Eating Cookies (Image)