Eric let out a deep sigh as he sat comfortably in his spacious living room.
His damp blond hair clung to his forehead, and he lazily rubbed it dry with a towel.
The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of his massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.
Maybe the size was overdoing it but Eric loved overdoing things.
His living room was far bigger than any single man realistically needed.
Five couches, a coffee table he rarely used, expensive rugs, and décor chosen more for appearances than utility — it all felt a bit excessive, even to him.
But he'd worked hard for this life.
At thirty years old, he was in his prime, financially secure, and living alone in a house that screamed independence.
Well… independence or loneliness.
He didn't care which.
At his age, he was supposed to be married already — or at least dating seriously.
His mother reminded him constantly during their rare calls, nagging him about "settling down" and "finding a nice woman."
He always brushed it off with the same excuse:
"There aren't any good women out there anymore, Mom."
And in his mind, it was true. At least, none he'd met were worth the effort.
The dating scene in 2030 was nothing but headaches and horror stories, He wondered if good women even existed?
He'd long since stopped caring.
Besides, Eric had everything he needed.
Money? Plenty.
Comfort? Absolutely.
And most importantly:
"To Be The Extra."
It wasn't just a book.
To Eric, it was the book.
A piece of fiction so perfect he'd been following it for six years straight.
It had started on a small-time novel site, just another random webnovel among thousands.
But it hooked him instantly — it was also the very first light novel he had ever read, and it was the first to ever make him pay for locked chapters and shower the author with gifts.
Even after dropping a ridiculous amount of money, he was nowhere near the top supporters — some fans spent literal millions — but he didn't care.
That wasn't the point.
The point was that it was worth every penny.
The novel had run for three thousand chapters, a rollercoaster from start to finish.
When it ended, Eric felt empty, like he'd just said goodbye to a lifelong friend.
But fate wasn't cruel — because almost immediately, the author announced a manhwa adaptation.
And not just any adaptation — it was taken up by the biggest studio in the world.
If anyone out there was hoping for it to flop, their prayers went unanswered.
The manhwa was a masterpiece.
The art was flawless, the pacing tight, and it captured everything that made the novel special.
Rumor had it each chapter earned between $300,000 to $500,000 in revenue, and with 2,666 chapters released over time, it became one of the highest-grossing series of all time.
And then came the next stage.
After the manhwa ended, the world exploded with hype all over again late last year — an anime adaptation.
Not just any anime either, but one made by Orion Studios, arguably the greatest animation studio on the planet.
When that announcement dropped, Eric had to sit down.
He remembered staring at his phone screen, heart pounding, thinking: This is it. This is peak fiction.
And he wasn't lying.
Now, after months of waiting, the day had finally come.
Tonight was the premiere of Episode 1.
Eric couldn't help but grin like a kid as he logged into his Crunchyroll account.
There it was, front and center:
[To Be The Extra]
[Studio: Orion Studios]
[Episode 1: Starting Again]
The cover image for Episode 1 displayed none other than Lily, one of the female leads.
Silver hair cascading down her back, violet eyes staring dangerously at the viewer, striking a confident pose.
Eric smirked.
"Ah… Lily." He muttered fondly.
His favorite heroine by far.
She had everything: beauty, intelligence, and just enough of that sharp-edged yandere energy to keep things interesting.
Her tragic backstory only made her more appealing.
He hovered over the "Begin" button, practically trembling with excitement.
Six years of investment — novel, manhwa, forums, fan theories all leading up to this moment.
But then it happened.
A sharp, stabbing pain exploded in his chest.
Eric froze.
His breath hitched, and his fingers went numb.
"Ugh—" He clutched his chest instinctively, teeth gritted.
This wasn't new.
He knew this feeling all too well.
Eric had a rare heart condition.
There was no cure, only medication to keep it at bay.
Normally, he'd feel it coming before the actual ache started but this?
This was sudden and brutal.
And just before he started Episode 1? It seemed like the world was fucking with him.
His heart throbbed violently, each beat like a hammer against his ribs.
"Dammit… medicine…" He rasped, fumbling instinctively at his pockets.
Nothing.
Shorts.
He was wearing shorts.
No pockets.
No pill case.
His eyes darted toward the staircase. His medicine was upstairs, in his bedroom.
Cursing under his breath, he forced himself off the couch, nearly stumbling from the dizziness that struck him immediately.
His vision blurred as he staggered toward the stairs.
Every step made his head spin harder, his heart pounding louder in his ears.
"Almost… there…"
He grabbed the railing, hauling himself upward, but his strength was fading fast.
His legs trembled, his knees buckled, and halfway up —
— he slipped.
His foot missed the step.
His body lurched backward.
Time slowed.
He felt his body tilt, weightless for a single, terrifying moment, and then —
BAM.
He tumbled down the stairs, slamming into the hardwood floor below.
Pain flared in his head, and everything began to fade.
"…Seriously?" He croaked weakly, staring up at the ceiling.
His vision tunneled, the edges blackening. "Is this… really how I go out? Right before episode one?"
No one answered.
On that day, Eric Lane died alone in his mansion.
…
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was a sterile white ceiling.
"…A hospital?" His voice cracked, hoarse but functional.
He blinked, dazed.
He could move.
He didn't feel pain anymore. No dizziness, no chest tightness.
For a moment, hope flared in him.
"Someone found me? Took me in? Hah… guess I lucked out." He chuckled softly.
But something didn't feel right.
Sitting up, he noticed it instantly. His body felt… different.
It was smaller than how he had been minutes ago, but he felt free… Ever since he got that sickness, there was always a pain around his heart.
But now it was gone, along with all his money.
His hair was heavier, longer — far longer than it should've been. He could feel it reaching his waist.
He ran his fingers through it and froze.
"…What the hell?"
Across the room was a mirror.
He swung his legs over the bed and approached it slowly, each step more surreal than the last.
The man staring back at him wasn't Eric Lane.
He had waist-length black hair that shimmered faintly in the light.
Piercing violet eyes like polished amethyst.
His face was sharp, perfectly symmetrical, his jawline chiseled like a statue's.
His skin was flawless as if unmarred by the hardships of the world, it was truly beautiful.
"Holy…" Eric blinked, touching his cheek. "Holy shit."
The stubby beard he'd worn for years? Gone.
His slightly sunken eyes from too many late-night reading sessions? Gone.
He looked like someone ripped straight out of a fantasy manhwa.
"Motherfucker," he muttered, a grin tugging at his lips despite himself.
He rubbed his chin.
It was perfectly smooth.
"I look fine as hell."