As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra

The figure remained silent, that void-like darkness offering no answer.

Then it spoke.

"I’m curious..." The doubled voice carried genuine interest. "Why do you think I’m... you?"

Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Why ask me this? Can’t you just read my thoughts like you did before? Back when we were talking about my choice?"

The words came out sharper than intended, frustration bleeding through.

The figure tilted its translucent head slightly.

"Humor me."

Those two words hung in the cold air between them.

Damian took a deep breath, his exhausted mind trying to organize thoughts that kept slipping away.

"You claim to have been in a similar situation where no one ever gave you a choice."

His voice came out steady, more controlled now.

"But how could there possibly be another situation of this exact scale? Another person reincarnated with memories intact, used as a piece by cosmic forces, facing the apocalypse?"

He paused, watching the translucent form for any reaction.

"And even if there was such an impossible coincidence, even if somehow the universe repeated this exact scenario with someone else..."

His hands clenched at his sides.

"You claim to have seen millions of timelines. You told me that even in the futures where I managed to save the world, Luna dies in every single one of them."

Damian’s crimson eyes locked onto where the figure’s face should be.

"But why would YOU care whether she lives or dies?"

The question hung in the air between them.

"Why would a random mysterious being with power beyond comprehension give a damn about one girl’s fate? Why would that matter enough to offer me a choice that could undo everything?"

Snow fell around them as Damian continued.

"So if everything you spoke was the truth and not just another layer of manipulation, then it only means one thing..."

He took another breath.

"You’re the version of myself from a timeline where I managed to master the laws of Time and Space, someone who’s trying to change her fate because you’ve already lived through losing her."

Silence fell between them, heavy and absolute.

The figure stood there in its translucent state, wavering slightly as if struggling to maintain form.

Then it spoke.

"And what if all my words were carefully chosen to lead you to exactly this conclusion?"

The question came out quiet but sharp.

"What if this really is just another form of manipulation?"

Damian’s expression didn’t change, his eyes still locked on the figure.

"Then we finally meet again..."

His voice came out calm and certain.

"Old Beggar."

Silence crashed down around them.

Damian’s mind raced despite his exhaustion.

’It’s the only explanation that makes sense.’

The Beggar had orchestrated his reincarnation, read him the novel, set everything in motion.

Who else would know about the timelines, about Luna’s fate and about what awaited him?

Who else would care enough about his choices to fight Fate itself?

But then another thought emerged, filled with doubts.

’Why would the Beggar do all of this? And why would he make sure I doubt him by saying that phrase deliberately?’

The questions spiraled through his tired mind, finding no easy answers.

"Just tell me the truth without any manipulation..."

The words came out exhausted, almost pleading.

"Please."

The figure’s translucent form flickered slightly, becoming less solid for a moment.

"Truth is a strange thing, isn’t it?"

The voice was quiet now.

"Those who know it are forced to carry its burden for the rest of their lives, cursed with knowledge they can never forget, wishing desperately they could return to ignorance."

The figure’s form flickered again.

"And those who don’t know spend their entire existence chasing after it, convinced that understanding will bring them peace, wishing they could just see what’s been hidden from them."

Snow continued falling around them.

"But the truth is rarely what either side expects it to be."

Silence fell between them again, heavier this time.

Damian stood there, wanting to push harder, to demand real answers instead of philosophy.

But something in the figure’s weakening state stopped him.

The form flickered again, more noticeably this time, like a candle flame struggling against wind.

"Whether I’m the Beggar or your future self or something else entirely..."

The voice was quieter now, fading.

"When the time is right, you will have all the answers you’re looking for. Until then, all you have to do is survive."

The figure’s hand gestured weakly.

"And even though Fate can’t interfere directly anymore, the pieces it placed on the board before today will become major obstacles in your game."

Another flicker, the form barely holding together.

"Don’t trust the knowledge from the novel. The nightmares and the doom that awaits you might have become even more terrifying than what was written."

The warning hung in the cold air.

"I don’t have much time left."

The voice was strained now, each word taking visible effort.

"Name the weapon yourself. Even if it hasn’t acknowledged you as its master yet, naming it will allow you to form a bond with it."

Damian remained silent for a long moment, just looking at the flickering form.

So many questions burned in his mind, so many things he wanted to say, to ask, to demand answers for.

But the figure was fading, and he could feel time running out.

His eyes dropped to the black axe lying in the snow beside him.

The weapon that could judge worthiness, that triggered tribulations just by existing, that was meant to help him fight against nightmares he couldn’t even imagine yet.

A weapon for the path he’d chosen.

The path of becoming the True God, of devouring all Aura and Laws, of ending the cycle of power that had caused so much suffering.

His voice came out quiet but carrying absolute conviction.

"God Slayer."

The moment the name left his mouth, text flashed across his peripheral vision.

[Bonded Weapon: God Slayer - ??? (Unacknowledged)]

[Current Status: Sealed]

And the axe started vibrating in the snow, the black material humming with sudden energy.

Then it lifted off the ground, floating upward as if pulled by invisible strings.

The axe rotated slowly in the air, blade catching the moonlight.

And suddenly it shot forward, slamming into Damian’s chest.

But instead of cutting or crushing, it simply vanished, disappearing into his body like Kuro did every time.

Damian’s hand moved to his chest, feeling for any change, any indication of where the weapon had gone.

But there was nothing, just the faint awareness that the axe existed somewhere inside him now, waiting.

The figure stood in silence, its form barely visible now.

"And so..."

The voice emerged as barely a whisper.

"It begins."

Then it turned slightly, as if preparing to leave.

"I still have to make sure Fate truly can’t make a move, but before I go away..." The voice paused. "There are some things I want to say, and please... consider them carefully."

’Please?’

Damian’s eyes widened slightly at the word.

The figure continued, its form barely visible now.

"The most difficult thing to do for the ones you love isn’t to sacrifice your life for them."

The words came out slow, deliberate.

"It’s to live for them. To keep going when everything tells you to give up, to carry the weight day after day, to choose survival over the peace that death might bring."

Another flicker, the form nearly transparent.

"And if one day you truly have the power to devour all the Aura in existence, to consume every Law and become what you’ve declared..."

A pause that felt loaded with terrible significance.

"Remember one thing. There is no such thing as true peace."

The figure turned around completely, as if preparing to vanish.

Damian’s voice emerged before he could stop it.

"Aside from Luna..."

The question came out quiet.

"Was there truly no one else who never betrayed me?"

The figure paused mid-turn, its flickering form going still.

Silence stretched between them for several heartbeats.

Then it spoke.

"There were some who didn’t betray you."

The words hung in the air.

"But you were the one who betrayed them."

And then the figure vanished completely, dissolving into nothing as if it had never existed at all.

Damian stood there alone in the snow outside the Northern Military Training Center, staring at the empty space where the figure had been.

His mind was trying to process everything that had just happened, all the revelations and warnings and cryptic statements.

’I... betrayed them?’

The thought echoed through his exhausted consciousness.

’Who did I betray? When? How?’

But no answers came, just more questions piling on top of questions.

’Will I meet him again? Was he truly... my future self? And the things... he said...’

His legs felt weak suddenly, the adrenaline that had been keeping him upright finally draining away.

’I’m... so...’

The thought didn’t finish.

His knees gave out and he fell backward into the snow, his body hitting the cold ground without any attempt to catch himself.

His eyes closed before he even realized they were closing.

And Damian fell into unconsciousness, exhaustion finally catching up to him completely.

The snow continued falling on his motionless form, covering him slowly as the night wore on.

Alone in the darkness, carrying a weapon named God Slayer inside him, bound to a path that would make him the enemy of the entire universe.

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