The Background Character Loop: One Last Chance to Break the Cycle
Chapter 27: Extra vs Protagonist
CHAPTER 27: EXTRA VS PROTAGONIST
I stepped out of Neil Arkes’ room, leaving behind that suffocating pressure—an air filled with quiet power and silent threats.
That girl... she was one of the Reiker family’s subordinates. Should I have saved her? Maybe I could’ve earned their trust.
No. Focus. I don’t have time to chase shadows. Right now, my priority is helping the main characters. First. I need to get back to Theo.
I moved quickly down the crowded hallway, ignoring the odd looks from people I passed. Let them stare—I didn’t have time to waste.
Theo’s break room was still dimly lit. He was already sitting up straight, gripping that thick wad of cash in his hands. I stepped in and stopped at the doorway.
"Our match... it’s about to start," I said flatly, my voice barely registering above the noise outside.
Theo looked up at me, his bruised black eyes locking onto mine. A tired but defiant smirk pulled at his lips.
"Alright," he replied, his voice raspy. "I’ve been curious about your fighting skills, C. You always seemed way too confident going up against me. I wanna know why."
I didn’t answer. I just tilted my head slightly. "You’ll see," I said. "Get ready, Theo. I’m not holding back."
"Good," he chuckled, even though the pain was written all over his face. "Because I’m not either. Let’s see if you’re really as good as you think."
We walked toward the ring together, the sound of drums growing louder, joined by the roar of the crowd.
As we stepped into the arena, the cheering exploded.
The commentator’s voice thundered through the speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen! Brace yourselves! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! Can anyone stop the rise of The Unbroken? Facing him tonight is a complete mystery! A new challenger who came out of nowhere! Can he defeat THEO, THE UNBROKEN?!"
The crowd erupted again. Chants of "THEO! THEO! THEO!" echoed from every direction, filling the air with raw, burning energy.
Boos and mocking whistles rained down on me. Of course they didn’t know who I was. They had no idea what I’d been through.
In the far VIP seats, beside the grinning club owner, Neil Arkes sat like a devil in a throne. Calm. Composed. Watching from his velvet fortress as if the arena was his stage.
His eyes, half-lidded, felt like they were still staring directly at me. That eerie smile on his lips never left as he slowly sipped wine from a crystal glass.
He was the most dangerous spectator in the room.
Theo glanced at me, his expression now serious. "Focus, C," he said in a low voice. "This place doesn’t play around."
I gave him a small nod, tuning out everything except him.
He was right. I had to focus. This was Theo—the protagonist.
This fight... would be different. I took a deep breath, relaxed my body, and prepared myself for the very first real battle between me and Theo, in any loop.
The referee stepped forward, standing between us. Tension filled the air, thick and suffocating. I could feel every pair of eyes locked on us.
"One!" the referee called, voice slicing through the crowd’s noise.
"Two!" A pause. Anticipation rising.
"Three!"
As that final word left the ref’s mouth, Theo exploded forward like a bullet.
No hesitation. He was The Unbroken, after all. And he struck with the power that earned him that name.
His right fist shot forward, fast and lethal—aimed directly at my face. A punch strong enough to end this fight in one hit. Dozens of others had fallen to it.
But I’d already seen this punch—not with my eyes, but through a thousand failed timelines burned into memory. I’d lived through this moment, in other loops, in countless ways.
With a movement so small it was almost invisible, I tilted my head just enough to let the air from his punch brush past my hair.
The fist missed me by inches.
I stepped to the side—not far, just enough to get to Theo’s flank.
Theo was fast. Ridiculously fast. But I had one edge—understanding. The kind that only came from dying over and over.
He didn’t waste time. His missed punch flowed into a devastating left hook aimed at my ribs.
I ducked low, stepped in closer, and unleashed a flurry of punches to his midsection—his stomach, his ribs, his waist.
My hits didn’t carry the raw power his did, but I made every strike count. I hit the places that disrupted his balance, messed with his breathing.
Theo grunted, surprised. "Not bad," he muttered through clenched teeth.
He followed with a spinning kick. Fast.
I jumped back, putting distance between us, eyes locked on him, analyzing. Watching the way his muscles moved, the shift in his breathing, even the smallest twitch of his fingers.
Theo was strong. Brutally strong. Every move of his was deadly and sharp.
But I had something he didn’t: knowledge.
Knowledge built from endless loops. Enough to recognize every move before it happened.
Still... knowing what would happen didn’t mean I could stop it. That’s the cruel truth of foresight.
I could see what he was going to do. But that didn’t mean I could always stop it.
Theo came at me again. A brutal combination of jabs and heavy blows.
I dodged, blocked, parried—but every hit I absorbed sent shockwaves through my arms. Each impact rattled my bones, screaming for me to stop.
His speed was insane. Every attack was precise, fast, and powerful.
This wasn’t just a match—it was a rebellion against fate itself.
In terms of raw strength, I didn’t stand a chance. All I had was the experience of endless time.
It gave me clarity. Gave me foresight.
But clarity and foresight still had limits.
He kept coming, hammering me with attack after attack.
I defended, dodged, countered—but every time, I lost ground. Step by step, I was being pushed back. My boots scraped against the edge of the ring.
My shirt clung to my skin, drenched in sweat and effort.
Dammit. I haven’t even landed a solid blow on his face yet...
Do I have to use my ability now?