“Class of 2024, Rank 3 Cadet, Shin Jonghak,” came the announcement.

Composure was what he aimed for—or at least what he pretended to be. Shin Jonghak, Kim Suho’s self-declared rival, strutted onto the stage like he owned the place. I expected the usual: a dramatic stare-off between him and Suho, maybe some sort of silent declaration of war through narrowed eyes and clenched jaws. You know, the usual testosterone-fueled nonsense. But nope, Jonghak took a sharp left turn from the script and headed straight for Chae Nayun.

And this man… oh boy. He didn’t just talk to her, no. He turned into a full-on chatterbox, practically glued to her side. If simping had a national league, Jonghak would’ve been MVP. The dude was annoyingly talkative, like he had never heard of the concept of “too much.” I swear, I could see Chae Nayun’s patience thinning by the second, but Jonghak? He was blissfully unaware. This, apparently, was Shin Jonghak in his "normal" state.

As the program came to an end, I did my best to ignore the sideshow and kept my focus on Kim Hajin’s location. The auditorium was packed, and it was going to take a while before everyone could squeeze out. Parents, relatives, staff, graduates—it felt like everyone brought their entire family tree to witness this moment. The scene reminded me of my own high school graduation, except there were more swords and probably fewer embarrassing speeches.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted some of my classmates doing what classmates did best—chaos. One of them sprinted past, proudly waving a random wig in the air like it was some sort of victory flag. Who the wig belonged to? I had no idea, and frankly, I didn’t want to know. Graduation traditions, I guessed.

My eyes subtly glanced at Kim Hajin as he moved along with the flow of the crowd, slowly making his way out of the packed auditorium. His shadowy silhouette blended into the sea of graduates and guests, but to me, he stood out, a reminder of the tangled web of conspiracy theories from The Novel’s Extra. They always whispered how Kim Hajin wasn’t as 'free' as he thought he was, how fate and unseen forces might still be pulling his strings. And then there was Chae Nayun—something about her felt off too. Different from what I knew.

But there was no use in dwelling on things that hadn’t happened yet. Overthinking would get me nowhere. I needed to focus on the present, on what was right in front of me. Chae Nayun’s differences, her peculiarities—I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. I had bigger priorities.

I fiddled with my smartwatch, pretending to be absorbed in something important. A façade, nothing more. In truth, I was keeping my focus on Kim Hajin, shadowing him through the crowd. There was something I desperately needed from him. No, not something—someone. I needed Kim Hajin.

To achieve my selfish goals, I needed to befriend him.

I hate being a hypocrite, so I’ll be honest with myself. I want to live. I want to survive. These thoughts echoed louder and louder in my mind as I confronted the reality of the crisis I’d found myself in. At first, I entertained the idea of preparing a bunker, hiding away while the chaos of this world passed over. It seemed like the safe option—let the monsters, dungeons, and devils have their fun while I sat it out underground.

But I knew that was too unrealistic.

I remembered the novel’s story. Even after the ‘end,’ the world didn’t suddenly become safe. There were always threats—dungeons, monsters, djinns, devils. The end of the plot didn’t mean the end of danger. I needed power, real power, if I wanted to survive. But I wasn’t some overpowered protagonist who could level up on a whim. I didn’t have cheats or hacks. As much as the thought of a slow life in a bunker appealed to me, I had to be practical.

The only way out that I could see was through Kim Hajin.

“Chundong! Kim Chundong!” I called out, using the name this world had bestowed on him, the name that tied him to this place.

The crowd moved at a snail’s pace, everyone inching toward the exits. I stuck to Kim Hajin like glue, not giving him the chance to disappear into the masses. “Chundong, what rank are you?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, and I could sense the hesitation, the uncertainty in his voice.

Right now, he didn’t have his magical laptop, the critical plot device from the novel. That thing was his cheat code, the key that connected Kim Chundong’s identity with the real Kim Hajin. Without it, he was stuck in this limbo, still figuring out who he was, how to reconcile the two parts of himself.

Not that I could steal the laptop even if I wanted to. But with it, Hajin would have the means to help me. And I needed him to help me.

“Yo, man, really? You don’t know your rank?” I feigned surprise, laughing it off like it was no big deal. Not that I knew my rank either, but that was beside the point. He didn’t need to know that.

I kept the conversation light, engaging him like we were old friends. “It’s been a while, huh? How’re you doing? Last time we talked was when you were volunteering at those hospitals, right?”

I knew both Hajin’s and Chundong’s stories well enough to play my part. Chundong was the type who volunteered at a lot of places, always helping out. If Hajin decided to check into that part of Chundong’s past, my little lie would hold up. And even if it didn’t? It would force him to confront me, to ask questions, and that would create a connection between us—whether he liked it or not. Hostile or not, a connection was a connection.

“I’m fine,” Hajin replied curtly, keeping things short and guarded.

Of course, he was defensive. Who wouldn’t be? Being yanked from one world to another, thrown into a life you didn’t choose—it wasn’t something anyone could adjust to easily. I could see it in his face, the weight of it all. He wasn’t ready to trust anyone. Not yet.

But that was fine. I could wait.

For now, I needed to stay close. Closer.

The weird one was definitely me. Here I was, overly eager to make connections in a world I barely understood, already scheming to befriend Kim Hajin like we were long-lost pals. It wasn’t normal, was it? But survival made you do strange things.

At the start of the novel, the co-author—or more accurately, the ‘entity’ responsible for bringing Hajin into this world—had pulled a little trick. The ‘entity’ didn’t just swap Kim Chundong’s and Kim Hajin’s souls. No, it wasn’t that simple. If it were just a soul swap, I wouldn’t be seeing that shadowy mirage around Hajin. No, it was more than that. Through the ‘entity,’ Hajin had completely usurped Kim Chundong’s existence.

That meant that Kim Chundong and Kim Hajin were two separate beings, each with their own lives. And once Hajin received his magical laptop, and with it, the powers that came along, the world would rewrite itself. Chundong’s identity would be overwritten by Hajin’s, and reality itself would bend to accommodate the change. Information-state facts would shift. It was... mind-bogglingly complex.

I couldn’t help but think: why didn’t Hajin just become Kim Chundong and live as him? Why did he have to carry his name from his previous life, from his role as the ‘author’ of this world? Was it some kind of philosophical point about identity and existence?

Ugh. My head hurt from overthinking.

“Hey, Chundong. Let’s exchange contact info,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, casual.

Hajin nodded, though he seemed distracted. From the corner of my eye, I could see him glancing at me, then back at his smartwatch. It made me uneasy. Was he using his gift, ‘Observation and Reading’? That ability let him see the truth behind things within the novel’s framework, so maybe… did he already know something was off about me?

“Who are you?” he asked suddenly.

A chill ran down my spine. How should I answer that? He couldn’t know my name—he was new here, after all.

“I’m your buddy! We are like… best friends! Ouch, man, it hurts that you don’t remember me!” I pulled my best sad-boy act, hoping my playful tone would throw him off.

“Umm…” Hajin hesitated, clearly trying to figure out how to respond. “I’m sorry, but it’s been a long time. I… don’t really remember.”

I panicked internally. This was exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Should I bail? The crowd was thick, and with a little maneuvering, I could disappear into it without too much trouble. But no… that would be a waste of an opportunity.

“Come on, man…” I sighed, pretending to be disappointed. “It’s cool if you don’t remember. I’m a pretty forgettable guy, like an extra.” I flashed him a smile, playing up the self-deprecation.

“Sorry, I feel bad,” Hajin said awkwardly, scratching his cheek before going back to his smartwatch. He was still looking for his contact info, but I could tell the gears in his head were turning. He wasn’t fully buying what I was selling.

I fiddled with my own smartwatch, trying to figure it out. It should’ve been easier to use than a smartphone, but I wasn’t used to it yet. Neither was Hajin, apparently. The dead air between us made the atmosphere awkward, and to make matters worse, the packed crowd was pushing us uncomfortably close together.

Skin-to-skin close. Too close.

"Uh… sorry,” Hajin muttered, still fumbling with his watch.

“Oho~ Chundong, my friend… You are forgiven,” I said with an exaggerated tone, hoping to break the tension.

Finally, my smartwatch displayed my contact info. “Just to remind you… my name’s Hyon Hyung. Rank 1111,” I said, showing him my screen with a hint of pride. Sure, rank 1111 wasn’t exactly impressive, but it was still a rank. I hoped to attend the main cast’s class someday.

But who was Hyon Hyung? I wasn’t sure. My situation felt eerily similar to Hajin’s. Was the same ‘entity’ that messed with him responsible for my presence here too? It seemed likely. But “Hyung,” huh? That meant ‘brother’ in Korean, didn’t it? Heh, maybe that meant something good.

“I will never call you hyung,” Hajin said abruptly, his tone flat.

I burst out laughing. “Fair enough. But you will someday. Just wait.”

I teased Hajin, throwing in jabs and exaggerated compliments, making him smile awkwardly while I stuck to him like glue. We went back and forth, light banter filling the gap as I finally got what I wanted—his contact info. Victory.

"See? Now we're officially friends," I said, grinning like a fool. "You can’t escape me now."

Hajin just sighed. “Yeah… sure,” he muttered, clearly overwhelmed by my persistence, but not enough to push me away. I had wormed my way into his circle, and that was all that mattered. Stick to him like glue, I told myself over and over again, almost like a mantra. I needed him. Kim Hajin was my key, my solution. If I played my cards right, my future was secured.

I had a game plan in mind. Step one: gather information. The Cube Entrance Ceremony was in two weeks, and I had to make the most of this time. Power was important in this world, but in my mind, solid relationships were crucial—especially early on. If I could align myself with the right people, I could survive. But superpowers? Not something I could just grab overnight. No matter how much I wanted to tinker with magic, I had to be patient.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Kim Chundong was an enigma. Stalking him online wasn’t as easy as I thought. For someone who was supposed to have some semblance of a presence, he was surprisingly low-key. Barely any digital footprint. I found some info about the orphanage he grew up in, a few snippets from the Agent Military Academy yearbook, and some vague details that aligned with what I already knew from the novel. It was all frustratingly basic.

I needed more. There was something about Chundong that didn’t add up. And there was something about Hajin being here that raised even more questions.

In the novel, The Novel’s Extra, Kim Suho was initially the protagonist before things changed, and Hajin became the ‘extra’ in his own story. But here, things felt different. The balance of power, the flow of events… Was Hajin still the main character? Or had someone else taken that role? Maybe it was Chae Nayun. Or maybe there wasn’t a main character anymore. Perhaps this world didn’t even have a main character.

I couldn’t shake the thought. Hajin might have been the author in the past, but in this world, he was a pawn, just like me. His presence didn’t guarantee anything.

In the end, all I could do was be suspicious of everything. The novel had set me up with a general outline of what should happen, but that wasn’t enough. I wasn’t omniscient just because I’d read the story. I couldn’t predict every twist, every change.

That was why I had to be smart. And more than that, I had to be patient.

Information was power. And I would gather every scrap I could find—on Hajin, on Chundong, and, most importantly, on myself. The answers were out there. I just had to find them before it was too late.

As the day of the Cube Entrance Ceremony approached, my thoughts kept returning to Kim Chundong’s impending erasure. In just one day, that identity would vanish, replaced by Kim Hajin in full. No longer would Chundong exist, at least in the way the world recognized him now. The mystery was gnawing at me—would I still remember Kim Chundong when this monumental change occurred, or would my memories of him be erased as well? It felt like I was sitting on the edge of an existential cliff, waiting to see what lay beyond the fall.

For now, all I could do was distract myself. I dedicated a good chunk of my time to writing out the plot of The Novel’s Extra in my tiny notebook. It was my safety net, a way to make sense of the chaos around me. The more I wrote, the more I felt in control—at least a little. The rest of the time was filled with mundane tasks: eating, sleeping, and endless research on the heroes, dungeons, and the world around me.

And then, D-Day arrived.

[Cube Entrance Ceremony.]

This was it. The event wasn’t huge in the novel’s plot, but missing it would mean an instant expulsion from Cube. No way was I going to let that happen. I had worked way too hard, survived too many panic attacks, to screw it up now. I put on my uniform, making sure everything was neat and in place, because God forbid I show up looking like a mess on the most important day of my life. My latest nightmare was still fresh in my mind—one where I somehow forgot to wear any clothes at all to the ceremony. Stupid brain. My nerves were clearly getting the better of me.

“Oh, damn… Hyon, you must be anxious, huh?” I muttered to myself in the mirror, but even hearing my voice didn’t do much to calm me down.

Why was I nervous? Let me count the whys. First, it was Cube, the most prestigious hero academy in the world. Second, I might meet the main cast—the characters I had followed so religiously in the novel. Kim Suho, Chae Nayun, Shin Jonghak. They were legends in the story, and now I’d be walking among them. It was enough to make anyone's heart race.

I distracted myself by playing with my smartwatch as I left my apartment, scrolling through some last-minute news updates. The smoothness of it was satisfying—like how I used to scroll my smartphone back in my previous life. Some habits never die, I guess. For the past two weeks, I’d been using my time wisely, or at least as wisely as someone who was about to enter a fictional world could.

My research mostly focused on survival. Kim Chundong’s backstory, current world affairs, and some of the more immediate dangers—like dungeons, monsters, and, of course, the Heroes themselves. Every bit of information was valuable. Korea, unsurprisingly, was a superpower in this world. They produced the most heroes, which came with a heavy dose of national pride. My head ached from reading about the overwhelming amount of patriotic chest-thumping on social media.

The internet was full of comments from Korean netizens, proudly declaring their nation as the heart of the hero world. And with that pride, naturally, came a healthy amount of prejudice and discrimination. It wasn’t much different from my old world—just amped up with superhumans thrown into the mix.

As I arrived at Cube’s campus, my heart rate spiked again. The towering buildings and the sheer scale of everything was intimidating. It felt surreal walking through the same grounds that I had read about countless times before. The entrance ceremony was just ahead, and I could already see students, staff, and even some parents filtering into the large auditorium.

Today, Kim Chundong’s identity would vanish. The countdown had started.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was standing on the edge of something massive—something that would change everything. But I swallowed my nerves, adjusted my collar, and stepped forward into the unknown.

Sigh... I’ve been sighing so much these days that I’m starting to wonder if it’s my new personality trait. But really, could I blame myself? “Discrimination isn't even a thing they bothered to introduce in the novel. I can only assume this world inherited every problem from my old one,” I muttered dramatically to no one in particular.

As I skimmed through articles on my smartwatch, my feet carried me toward my destination: Cube, the fancy training ground where Korea churns out its next batch of heroes. For the next three years, I would be stuck there, attending classes, learning to be... heroic, I guess.

However, that noble endeavor wasn’t getting any easier with the number of times I tripped over my own feet. I’d lost count by now, but it was getting dangerously close to double digits. Finally, I gave up on my multitasking ambitions. I put the smartwatch away because, let’s face it, I’ve got the coordination of a baby giraffe on roller skates. Walking and looking at things simultaneously? Not in my skill set. At least I know my limits, right?

Kim Hajin came to mind. Ah, The Novel’s Extra. I remembered that guy would eventually drop out after his first year. The idea was tempting, honestly. But as a complete nobody, I couldn’t afford such luxuries. I was in this for the long haul, stuck at Cube until I squeezed every ounce of hero training from it. I mean, it’s an educational institution—I should probably learn something.

Still, I’d much rather skip it all, find a nice farm somewhere, and just wait for the endgame. But, alas, Chae Nayun’s existence as Rank 2 made me nervous. Plus, the novel’s ending? Definitely not the “happily ever after” variety.

As I grabbed my train ticket and flashed it to the machine, I collided with someone. Of course. Because why not?

“Whoa!” I blurted out, trying to steady myself as my gaze landed on a familiar face. “Kim Suho, right? The Savior, right? Oh, man, I am saved!” I immediately took advantage of the moment, throwing in some playful wordplay. Suho means "savior" or "protector," so technically, I wasn’t wrong.

Kim Suho gave me a nervous smile, clearly uncomfortable with my enthusiasm. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

“No worries, Savior-nim! I’m a Cube cadet too. Name’s Hyon Hyung, Rank 1111!” I introduced myself with a burst of energy, trying my best not to seem too unhinged. “By the way, I’m a fan,” I added for good measure.

And it was true. I’ve always had a soft spot for those old-fashioned heroes of justice. Even if they were losing their shine in the modern world, I still held out hope they’d make a comeback. Heroes were badass, damn it!

“Hmmm…” Kim Suho hummed in that awkward, polite way. I decided to follow him, because hey, why not? The two of us quietly found seats next to each other on the train, and yeah, the atmosphere was... tense. But it was a start. I was sure Kim Suho would remember me—if only for calling him Savior-nim like a total weirdo.

Making an impression was key to building connections, right? Step one: Be remembered. Step two: Actually do something good so you don’t stay “that weird guy from the train.”

Yep, totally not a manipulative mastermind here. Just kidding... Maybe.

We arrived at Cube, thankfully on time. The sight of the massive gates was a reminder that the next few years of my life were going to be... interesting, to say the least.

“I’ll be going now. I have to meet with my friends. Do you want to come?” Kim Suho asked, glancing at me with that polite, slightly awkward smile.

I shook my head, already knowing who his “friends” were. “Nah, I’m all good, man,” I said, trying to sound casual but fully aware of the potential social nightmare that awaited me if I said yes. “I’m also waiting for a friend,” I added, as if that made my rejection sound any better. Honestly, hanging out with Kim Suho’s group would’ve been like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

We parted ways after that. Kim Suho disappeared into the distance, and I stayed by the gates, watching students come and go like a hawk on high alert. My eyes darted around, scanning for the one person I needed to find—Kim Hajin. If there’s a will, there’s a way, right?

Then, out of nowhere, I struck gold. “Kim Hosup!” I called out, grinning like I just won the lottery.

The guy looked confused, naturally. “My man, it’s Hyon Hyung! Do you not remember? Ugh… Kim Chundong doesn’t remember me either. How hurtful…” I sighed dramatically, shaking my head.

Kim Hosup and Kim Chundong were already acquainted by this point, so it was like hitting two birds with one stone. Plus, befriending Kim Hosup had long-term benefits—his talent for gathering information was no joke. I could already imagine the future scenarios where he’d be a valuable asset, not just to Yoo Yeonha, but to me as well.

Without thinking, I slung my arm around his neck in a “friendly” gesture, pulling him into an overly enthusiastic half-hug. Kim Hosup, shorter than me, was easy to drag along, and I figured this would be a good bonding moment.

“My man, did you see Chundong? Where is he?” I asked, tightening my grip a bit.

Hosup’s face twitched slightly as he tried to wriggle free, but I was too focused on my “brilliant” plan to notice. That is, until I started hearing the murmurs around me.

“What is that guy doing?”

“Is he bullying him?”

“Well, the dude is a fatso, so it’s fine, I guess?”

Ah, crap. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I immediately let go, pulling my arm back like I had just touched something hot. Wrapping your arm around someone’s neck in Korea apparently had this whole bullying implication that I had somehow completely forgotten about. In my mind, it was just a friendly gesture, but to everyone else? Yeah, not so much. I had read enough manhwas to know this trope, but somehow, it slipped my mind.

“I’m sorry, Hosup… I was just so excited to see you,” I apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of my neck. Hosup blinked at me, probably unsure whether to run away or laugh it off.

Great. First impression: nailed it.

Despite his pig-like appearance and obviously superior weight, Kim Hosup was surprisingly shy. I knew I was stereotyping, but with that bulk, I couldn’t help but think he had the potential to be the classic "Bully A" in any school life story. Yet, there he was, scratching the back of his head and avoiding eye contact like he was about to apologize for even existing. I was being blatantly discriminatory, wasn’t I?

“Uuumm… It’s fine,” Kim Hosup mumbled, still refusing to meet my gaze.

This was bad. Really bad. I didn’t just need to make peace with him—I needed him to stay in my orbit.

“Man, sorry, that was totally my bad. I’ll make it up to you. Let’s go find Chundong, and I’ll treat you both to something nice after the ceremony.” Desperation tinged my voice. Food was the universal friendship fixer, right?

But then reality smacked me in the face—I had absolutely no idea how Won worked here. Of all the things I could’ve forgotten to research, I blanked on money. I had no clue what things cost, and here I was, throwing promises around like I was made of cash. This was a risk, but it was a necessary one. I couldn’t afford to lose Kim Hosup. He might not have been a major character, but in this world, he was just as important. Information was power, and this guy had the potential to be an info-gathering powerhouse.

As we walked, I casually pulled out my phone and pushed for an exchange of contact info. I might’ve strong-armed him into it a little, but there was no way I was letting him slip through my fingers. Not today.

I couldn’t help but feel a little opportunistic, but hey, this was survival. In Cube, being a weak nobody like me meant I had to grab every advantage I could. Connections were everything, and people like Kim Hosup were gold mines. I saved his number with a small, victorious smile.

Sure, it felt a bit slimy, but life was all about being strategic. If treating Hosup and Chundong to a meal helped cement my spot in their circle, then it was a price I was willing to pay—even if I went broke in the process.

“Let’s go, Hosup! Let’s find Chundong!” I said, full of energy as I dragged the poor guy through the crowds, scanning the auditorium where the Cube Entrance Ceremony was about to begin. According to Hosup, Chundong was already inside. Perfect.

I started messaging Kim Hajin—also known as Chundong now—but he was either ignoring me or simply more focused on Hosup, with whom he was already acquainted. Ouch. I felt a sting of rejection. Was I not important enough for him?

“CHUNDONG!” I yelled dramatically the moment I spotted him, as if we were long-lost brothers finally reuniting. “I MISSED YOU, MAN!” Without thinking, I launched myself at him, tackling him into an overly enthusiastic hug. Sure, to others, it might’ve seemed a little too much, but I wasn’t doing this for any weird reason. It was purely investigational.

As I hugged him, I subtly felt for his muscles. And damn, they were more solid than I expected, trained like someone who’d seen a lot of action. Definitely more mass than me. Not that I was checking for that reason—this was purely an objective observation! After all, Kim Hajin had completely overtaken Kim Chundong’s existence, and his stats would eventually reset. I had to check if there were any lingering traces of the original Kim Chundong, right? For research purposes, of course.

My actions, while maybe questionable to an outside observer, were all part of my grander scheme. In the novel, after Hajin swapped places with Chundong, their physical attributes seemed to change, too. Hajin hadn’t yet fully synchronized with Chundong’s body, so his physical attributes remained at their Agent Military Academy levels. The muscles I was feeling told me that Kim Chundong had been training hard before Hajin took over. That meant Chundong was real—like, really real. Not just some forgotten extra.

It made me think—if the real Kim Chundong had trained so diligently in the Agent Military Academy, then their methods were worth investigating. Maybe I could learn something to improve myself, too. This was more than just casual curiosity; it was potential self-improvement!

“Chundong, my man! Did you miss me?” I asked with a grin, still holding on to him.

“…,” he remained silent. The speechless expression on his face told me that inside, Hajin was probably wondering if he should smack me right there and then.

I could sense a subtle hostility radiating from him. Okay, maybe I had overstepped. I quickly stopped my weird groping—I mean, investigative hug—and instead patted him on the shoulder in a totally normal, friendly manner.

“Tell me, you’re a hugger, right?” I asked, trying to salvage the situation with a grin.

“I am not…” he answered, deadpan.

Ah, well, that was… unfortunate.