How to Survive as a Trash Extra Villain

Chapter 1

In a darkness where even light had perished, I faced a humanoid shadow. A mass of congealed vengeance, rage, hatred, and resentment. Yet, on one side, regret lingered.

Words were etched across the shadow’s body: extra, villain, trash, delinquent, violent circle, garbage.

Through this abstract phenomenon, I realized I was dreaming. The shadow warned me.

“Do you think someone like you can change my fate?”

But when I came to, the one speaking to me was…

[Woof!]

“…?”

A dog. A majestic black-and-tan German Shepherd, brimming with German lineage, looked down at me, grinning.

“…Are you mocking me too?”

No way. Let’s stop with the paranoia.

“Who are you, and where am I?”

I remembered collapsing from exhaustion last night. Judging by the fact that I was on a bed, I must’ve somehow crawled onto it… but this bed was quite different from the one I knew.

A luxurious yet simple bed adorned with green silk—there was no way this elegant thing was mine.

As I tried to sit up, I noticed shackles binding both my hands.

“….”

Had I been… kidnapped?

As a novelist with ten years of experience, my mind exploded with delusions like a bundle of fireworks.

Looking around, the room resembled that of a wealthy medieval noble. The black-and-tan Shepherd was happily licking my cheek. A flag with a green background and a dog’s head—likely the family crest—was visible.

“Could this be…?”

A strangely familiar sensation kept tapping at my mind.

No, let’s not jump to conclusions. The priority was the current situation.

Whatever was happening, the reality of lying shackled by both hands was inexplicable. Every glance made my mind go blank, and the high likelihood of being kidnapped was the only thought that surfaced…

This is bad. Is my life screwed?

No matter how unproductive and wretched my life had been, being kidnapped in my sleep as some kind of karmic retribution? Having lived a shitty life made it all the more unfair!

I’d devoted my entire life to a single novel. Even when my family turned their backs on me, even when my friends tried to dissuade me and left! Because I couldn’t succeed due to my damned lack of talent… I couldn’t die like this.

I… I couldn’t end like this. Kidnap me? I didn’t know who they were, but I’d escape this place even if I had to kill them! I would survive, no matter what…

“Ow, hold on! Stop licking me!”

My cheek felt not just wet but slimy. Even when I gently pushed away the Shepherd, who seemed to have gone mad with joy, it clung right back to me.

Nothing was going right.

What kind of dog is this clingy… huh?

The moment I saw the name tag ‘Sebastian’ on the dog’s collar, I was speechless.

…No way. It can’t be.

My reason said so, but my heightened senses impulsively pieced together the information, arriving at an instinctive answer.

The black-and-tan Shepherd’s name was Sebastian.

A family crest with a black dog’s head on a green background.

I knew it. With a dazed look, I muttered softly.

“Martin von Targon Ulvhadin.”

The Ulvhadin family was among the lower ranks of the 126 earldoms in the Imperium Empire, the most powerful nation in the world, beneath the four ducal families and the twenty marquessates.

Even prominent earldoms often appeared as mere background in the novel, overshadowed by the protagonist’s story.

But Martin von Targon Ulvhadin was a special kind of background.

A trash extra villain who defied the protagonist only to be brutally, pitifully, and humiliatingly disciplined—so pathetic it was almost embarrassing to describe. Not even worthy of being a proper background.

How did I know? Because I created him!

He was the only original element from Kim An-hyun in Recola’s scenario for The Fallen Crown Prince of the Cosmos Empire!

“That’s me?”

A hollow laugh escaped me aloud, as if I’d lost my mind.

No wonder this dog was licking me like a jar of honey. There was a reason.

Sebastian had been Martin’s partner since childhood.

Was it foolish or loyal? To crave love from Martin, an animal abuser, without ever tiring…

I was that Martin von Targon Ulvhadin…

…No way, right? I must be mistaken.

I was willing to laugh it off if an editor burst through the door with a cake, announcing a surprise event with fireworks.

Sadly, no such thing happened.

Instead, after a cautious knock, the door opened, and an unfamiliar maid entered.

A girl with brown hair tied in thick twin braids, wearing round glasses, giving off an intellectual but timid impression.

“Y-Young Master M-Martin… I-I brought your meal…”

“…Fine.”

I replied reluctantly.

Whether this was a surprise audition celebrating my drama debut or a ridiculous isekai possession story, I had to play along.

I responded coldly, fitting the established character of Martin von Targon Ulvhadin.

A level of indifference that might offend the listener.

The maid placed a wooden tray of food down and smiled.

“Y-You seem to be in a good mood today, hehe…”

“…Fine.”

I chuckled inwardly. So this was his reaction when in a good mood?

It might just be the maid’s flattery, but knowing how much of a scumbag Martin was, it was likely the plain truth.

Thinking it was all for survival, I looked at the tray.

…I see.

Hard bread, watery soup, and water. A meal for an earl’s son, whether breakfast or lunch.

Wondering if this was right, I glanced at the maid.

Her eyes trembled. Questioning her would only hurt my conscience.

Let’s eat. I need to eat to live.

As I reached out, the chains clinked, pulling taut. A cold resistance gripped my wrists.

“Oh, I-I’ll lift the tray for you!”

“Unlock me.”

“P-Pardon?! Oh… I-I can’t…”

The maid flinched, and a jingle of keys came from behind her waist.

“I-I can’t, Young Master Martin. The patriarch’s orders are absolute, and i-if you disobey this time, something really bad might happen…!”

With her eyes tightly shut, the maid drove the truth into my mind.

I’d said it expecting her to refuse. But it gave me confidence that this girl could be trusted. She was genuinely kind.

“B-But if you promise to eat quietly… and let me put the shackles back on afterward…”

Huh?

As if entranced, the maid took out the key and unlocked the shackles on both my hands.

It was completely unexpected.

“P-Please don’t shout… If the patriarch finds out, we’ll be in big trouble…”

“Fine.”

I took the tray and placed it on my lap.

Meanwhile, the maid went to Sebastian, who was wagging his tail, and set down another tray. It was piled with meat.

I started eating. I grabbed the bread with my bare hands, dipped it in the watery soup, and shoved it into my mouth. Honestly, it tasted awful. Was I dipping bread in soup or soaking a lump of flour in water?

Did my expression give it away? The maid panicked.

“I-I’m sorry, Young Master. The patriarch ordered it… I’ll sneak some fruit next time…”

As I kept saying, scolding this maid would only exhaust me. I silently chewed the hard bread.

“…Hm?”

The texture was odd. Spitting it out, I found something mixed in that wasn’t flour.

The maid rushed over in horror.

“I-I’m sorry! The kitchen staff must’ve made a mistake…!”

She reached for the soggy piece of paper covered in my saliva and bread crumbs, but I stopped her.

“Stop.”

I slowly picked up the foreign object and unfolded it. It was… a piece of paper with writing—a letter.

[Even coffee, beloved worldwide, was once called the devil’s drink. Change the fate of the irredeemable villain, Martin, Author. - Recola]

What kind of nonsense was this?

Before I could fully process the letter, an incident occurred.

Bang! The door burst open, and a middle-aged man with a long-barreled shotgun entered. His sharp gaze bordered on arrogance. Behind him was a Shepherd even larger than Sebastian.

“P-Patriarch!”

The maid bowed deeply, trembling all over.

The patriarch of the Ulvhadin earldom looked down at me.

“…Are you prepared to face your punishment?”

In the sudden situation, the maid intervened. She threw herself in front of me, prostrating on the floor, her forehead pressed to the ground.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I have no excuse even if you scold me a hundred or thousand times! It was me! Young Master Martin hasn’t done anything wrong! I acted out of pity for him! Please punish me instead!”

Her cries, bordering on wails, briefly drew the patriarch’s attention.

Why… why was this girl going so far for me? I never set Martin to have a loyal maid.

She stammered and trembled in front of me, but before the patriarch, who held the terrifying power of punishment, she sacrificed herself like a fierce lioness protecting her cub.

The patriarch looked at the maid with eyes resembling a raptor’s, then clicked his tongue.

“Tch. Drag the maid out. Shackle Martin again.”

“Yes!”

Guards from outside—soldiers resembling rangers with long shotguns—entered and restrained the maid on both sides.

“Young Master! Young Master! Oh, Patriarch, please forgive him!”

As the maid was dragged out, still pleading for me, a guard approached me. My hands would be shackled again.

“Young Master…”

Even while being dragged away, the maid turned and smiled at me. A smile saying she was fine, not to worry.

That achingly tender smile…

“Stop, guards.”

I halted the guards dragging the maid and shook off the one trying to shackle me.

Slowly, I rose from the bed and stood before the patriarch.

I bowed.

“Martin von Targon Ulvhadin greets the Patriarch.”

Hoping my gamble was right.

Standing tall, I looked the patriarch straight in the eyes.

“Release my maid.”

“You don’t even know your place!”

A dull blow twisted my head. The family head had swung the shotgun in his hand and struck my cheek. This time, he hit the other cheek.

My head spun, my body staggered, and one foot lifted off the ground. But then… I firmly braced my core, took a step forward, and thrust my face closer.

An emotion I couldn’t place surged through me like a wildfire.