The Time I Got Reincarnated As An Extra

Chapter 227: Back To The Black Market [1]



***

The sound of a wooden cane was heard in the night air, its symphonic rhythm creating an almost soothing sensation to the air.

The midnight moon subtly shone through the dark cold clouds in the sky, basking the secluded streets below in its dim light.

But yet, a certain part of the city was completely shrouded from its embrace.

As if it was a separate part from the bustling city on the other side.

And this was where the sounds of the cane originated from.

A figure walked in the empty dark streets of that part of the city, either completely unaware of the dangers or indifferent of the threat they could pose to him.

However, from the unapproachable energy that exuded from his cloaked figure, one could suppose that it was the latter.

And surely enough, if one looked closely, they would see multiple pickpockets or thieves- that used the darkness to their advantage- change their ways as the figure walked near.

Even his cracked white mask, that had a sinister smile engraved on it, gave off a menacing vibe because of his aura.

But the man behind the white mask paid the onlookers no look or even a subtle glance, merely ignoring their existence as he walked past.

It was as if they didn't exist for him in the streets.

As his cane continuously tapped in the cold foggy streets, he finally stopped after taking a

turn.

Arriving before two, armed and sturdy men, the man finally faced a obstacle in his path.

They were formally dressed in their usual black suits, their gazes hidden behind the black glasses on their eyes.

Their expression was impassive, making it seem that they were unaffected by the presence of the man before them.

But a close observer would also notice a trickle of sweat on the side of their faces. Something unusual for this extremely cold time of the December month.

But the cold emotionless black eyes that bore into them through the white mask paid their interference no mind.

The man merely retrieved a black card from his cloak pocket, quickly handing it over to the extended hand of the guard on the right.

The guard on the left took it from the one on the right, checking its front and back thoroughly. Once done, he handed it back to the man, who took it and placed it back in his pocket.

At the same time, the guards parted, making way for the man, as the latter was now faced with a steel door.

The door automatically opened, unveiling a narrow dark corridor that led downward.

The guards gave the man a final nod, which the latter didn't respond to and just walked ahead. But the two dressed men didn't mind it a bit.

The silent exchange was well appreciated by both parties, feeling no need to communicate with each other.

This was how it was supposed to be in the Black Market.

Looking down into the corridor, a single thought ran through Amon's mind.

'It's been a long while.'

With that thought, Amon began his descent down into the corridor.

Into the Black Market.

***

In a neatly furnished room, a figure was hunched over at the table as sounds of scribbling were heard without any delay in the room.

The room was quite elegant and luxurious, giving off an air of noble regality.

Fine hand-knitted rugs with intricate patterns on them were placed all over the floor. Just a glance at them would tell even an amateur of how much blood and sweat had been poured into the art.

Even the softness and smoothness of the rugs were relaxing to the body.

Exquisitely crafted bookshelves made of the finest wood were placed along with the walls, files and books neatly arranged and placed into them, giving a sense of order to the room.

Sofas and chairs were also placed with care and precision, in a proper pattern.

It conveyed just how much thought and care had been put into the room.

Right in the middle of the room was a beautifully crafted wooden table.

A small-lamp like device was placed at its edge, dim light exuding from its top that basked the whole room.

Documents and files were neatly placed to the side, some empty while others written and signed.

Quills and pens along with ink pots rested at the edge just next to the luxurious chair, ready at the sitter's disposal.

But currently, a woman was already sitting on the table, the sounds of her scribbling on paper nonstop being heard in the room.

Her long winish-magenta hair were neatly tied into a ponytail that hung across her back.

Various ornaments were carefully placed in the hair to keep them in place.

Wearing a white thin overcoat-one more for fashion that protection from cold-over her intricately floral patterned black top and pants, her form seemed to be completely focused on the task at hand.

Her amber-golden eyes were focused on the documents in front of her as her gloved hands fluently dragged the pen across them nonstop.

But despite the continuous writing, her eyes seemed to be out of focus if one looked closely

now.

As if her thoughts were lost on another matter recently.

The same could be said for her expression as at certain times, she could be seen biting her lip subconsciously.

But then, suddenly, the flow of the pen came to an abrupt stop, halting instantly at the end of

the document.

ScribScribScribTap.

Her grip around the pen loosened and the pen rolled off the table, falling on the ground.

-Тар.

Its light tap against the rug on the floor was enough to jolt the figure on the table out of their thoughts.

Amelia's form came back to the present with a shudder, as her thoughts finally settled down

on reality.

Still disoriented and her focus out of place a little, her face slowly followed the sound as she

saw the pen on the ground.

It was then that she realized what happened.

'Oh.'

Her form bent to pick the pen up from the ground.

Capping it back, she carefully placed it on the side of the table.

Staring at the documents below her, a tired long exhale escaped from Amelia's lips as she leaned over at the table, placing her elbows on the top and plopping her forehead in her

hands.

She brushed the few strands of her hair back with a clean motion of her hands.

The wave of adrenaline that she had when working finally wore off and a wave of exhaustion

had hit her now.

She automatically found her eyes closing due to the lack of sleep but was forced awake again

with a jolt.

Amelia massaged the deep bags under her eyes with her fingers, releasing another sigh in the

process.

Turning to look out of the arched windows that provided a breathtaking view of the outside, Amelia saw a reflection of herself in the polished one-sided mirrors.

And what she saw shocked her to the core.