The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86: Chapter 86 : Getting scolded by someone hot

Alex slowly opened his eyes.

His blurry vision gradually focused on the sterile white ceiling above him. For a long second, he simply stared at it, blinking slowly, as if his brain was still buffering reality. The steady hum of fluorescent lights filled the silence, oddly calming.

Then the pain hit him.

A dull, throbbing ache bloomed at the base of his skull and radiated across his body like aftershocks from an explosion. He let out a groan, clutching his head.

"Aah—damn..."

His thoughts struggled to realign themselves. Where was he? Why did his body feel like it had gone twelve rounds with a mutant gorilla?

And then, the memories came crashing back.

"Oh right... I was in a duel with the Prez," he muttered to himself. "When nothing worked... I used the fifth form of my sword art."

He rubbed his eyes slowly, trying to sit up, only for a stabbing pain in his side to argue otherwise. With a grimace, he leaned back into the pillow.

"But... what the hell happened?" he muttered. "Did I win or lose?"

His eyes scanned the surroundings for answers—white walls, softly beeping monitors, faint antiseptic scent in the air. An IV was hooked into his arm, and his body felt like someone had parked a truck on top of it.

He sighed.

"Looks like I’m in the infirmary... and I got my ass kicked."

Despite himself, he gave a weak chuckle.

"Hah. All this trouble just for getting

hospitalized."

Then a thought crossed his mind.

A smirk crept onto his lips.

"Well, at least I landed a strike on her... she better keep her end of the deal."

The looking around as if he was looking for someone in the room.

"If I’m really in the infirmary, where is the hot-looking doctor who scolds you for getting hurt, just like in every anime and manga?" he said aloud, half-joking, half-hopeful. "Where’s my tsundere nurse with a clipboard and attitude?"

As if the universe decided to humor his suffering, the automatic doors to his left slid open with a soft hiss.

And in walked a woman.

She looked like she was in her mid-twenties, perhaps a little older. Her long, forest-green hair was pulled into a high ponytail, with loose strands framing a heart-shaped face that was strikingly symmetrical.

Her skin was pale and flawless, and her black eyes shimmered with a sharp, clinical glint that could probably dissect someone from across the room.

She wore a crisp white coat over a sleek navy uniform, tailored to fit her athletic frame—one that balanced grace and strength.

She had the kind of beauty that didn’t need makeup or accessories. A natural elegance, marred only by her aura of indifference.

Alex blinked. "Whoa... You’ve gotta be kidding me."

Without even sparing him a greeting, the woman strode toward his bed, holding a holo-clipboard. Her eyes flicked over his vitals before glancing down at him with clinical indifference.

"Well, congratulations," she said, voice sharp as polished steel. "You managed to break three ribs. Four cracked ribs. Torn deltoid and bicep on your right arm.

Hairline fracture in the left femur. Concussion. Severe mana overuse. Internal bleeding—now healed thanks to nanite infusion—and a shredded magical circulatory system that’s only barely reformed after external intervention."

She tapped her clipboard with a pen that appeared from nowhere, like a magic trick designed to intimidate patients.

"Also," she continued flatly, "your mana circuits were completely destabilized for approximately seven minutes, during which your nervous system partially shut down. Honestly, it’s a miracle you didn’t spontaneously combust. Or worse—explode like some overcooked mana chicken."

Alex stared at her, eyes wide.

Then, slowly, he brought his hands together.

And started to pray.

A soft, reverent smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. His fingers interlocked, his expression one of serene bliss—as if some cosmic wish had been granted.

The green-haired woman paused mid-sentence, momentarily thrown off. Her sharp gaze softened just a touch.

Was he... praying? Was he thanking the gods for surviving?

Her posture relaxed slightly. For someone who’d been through that much, it wasn’t surprising.

"...I suppose gratitude is natural after surviving something that ridiculous," she said, voice gentler now.

Unbeknownst to her, Alex was giving a very different kind of gratitude.

Yes. Thank you, Gods. I finally got the archetype—hot, scary medical lady with razor-sharp wit. I’m living the dream of an anime protagonist.

He fought the urge to grin like an idiot.

And failed.

Seeing his expression shift, she raised a brow, suspicious. But before she could comment, Alex blinked and quickly composed himself, giving her a sheepish grin. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"So uh... what’s your name, doc?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed.

She replied, raising her clipboard again like it was a shield.

"Melissa Wizz. Lead Medical Officer, Zenith Academy. In charge of keeping reckless idiots like you from dying."

Alex gave a wobbly thumbs-up. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Wizz. Thanks for patching me up."

She exhaled through her nose, but there was a faint hint of a smile.

"Try not to end up here again. We have a limit on how many morons we’re allowed to resurrect per semester."

"Noted."

She looked at him for a moment longer, then tapped her earpiece. The automatic door behind her gave another soft hiss.

Alex blinked. "Someone at the door?"

Melissa gave a knowing look.

"Looks like they came again to check on you."

Alex tilted his head. "They?"

She smirked. "Care to take a guess?"

Realization dawned.

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