As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra

Several hours had passed since the interrogations began.

Room after room of testimony, Imperial heirs providing their accounts first, then Noble team leaders, then the surviving commoners who’d lived through hell and somehow made it back.

The final interrogation room door opened and six figures emerged into the hallway, their faces showing the exhaustion of people who’d been processing information for hours without rest.

Ashley Blackheart led the group, her black hair remained pulled into that severe bun and her black eyes showing the kind of clinical focus that came from years of SFD work.

Beside her walked Deputy Commissioner Warren James, also S rank, his grey hair and lined face showing someone who’d seen too much over too many years. His police uniform was immaculate despite the late hour, his bearing military-precise.

Behind them came four others – two SFD officers and two police officers, all A rank, all wearing expressions that suggested they’d heard things that didn’t quite make sense.

All of them took deep breaths as they moved down the hallway, the weight of what they’d learned pressing down like physical force.

“Mindless creatures,” one of the SFD officers muttered, his voice carrying disbelief. “Completely mindless… No consciousness at all according to Verratoux’s testimony.”

The other SFD officer nodded, his expression grim.

“And not documented anywhere in Federation records. Nothing matching those physical characteristics or behavioral patterns. It’s like they don’t exist in our database at all.”

“The military should know something,” a police officer suggested, though his voice lacked conviction. “They have access to classified portal expedition data we don’t. Maybe these things have been encountered before but kept off the public record for some reason.”

“Maybe,” the second police officer agreed. “But if they have been encountered before, why keep it secret? What possible reason would there be to hide information about a new Monster type from Academy curricula?”

Warren James remained silent as the others debated, his mind processing implications rather than participating in speculation.

Ashley said nothing as well, her sharp eyes tracking their progress through the building, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Two hundred fifty students entered,” one of the SFD officers continued, his voice becoming quieter. “Only forty made it out alive. Eighty-four percent casualty rate in less than two days inside.”

Silence fell at the numbers, the weight of that loss making conversation feel inappropriate.

Then the police officer spoke again, his tone thoughtful.

“Honestly, that any of them survived at all is unexpected in this situation. From what the testimonies described, they were completely surrounded, massively outnumbered and facing enemies they’d never trained for.”

The other SFD officer’s voice emerged carefully.

“According to multiple testimonies from different sources… they only survived because of Damian Valcor.”

More silence as that reality settled.

“Every Imperial heir confirmed it,” the first police officer added. “Cassius Eckhart, Raymond Kingsley, Jonathan Thorne… all of them said the same thing. Without Valcor’s interventions, everyone would have died in the first wave.”

They turned a corner, moving deeper into the interrogation wing toward the final room they needed to check.

Room 7.

Where Damian Valcor had been placed hours ago.

****

As they approached the door, Ashley’s sharp eyes spotted something through the small observation window.

She stopped walking, and the others halted behind her.

“He’s sleeping,” she whispered, almost to herself.

A small smile that wasn’t quite amusement crossed her features, something like recognition mixed with frustration.

“He hasn’t changed one bit. The first time I came across this kid, he was sleeping as well. Right in the interrogation chair after committing acts that should have left any kid traumatized.”

Warren James turned to face her, his grey eyes showing knowing assessment.

“I presume you understand him quite well, Miss Blackheart?”

Ashley’s smile faded, her expression becoming colder and more professional.

“I’ve been suspicious of this kid since the Norrington incident. After I interrogated him that first time, I sent one of my best officers to investigate him further, someone I trusted completely to find evidence of whatever criminal connections Valcor was hiding.”

She paused, genuine frustration bleeding through her controlled demeanor.

“To dig into his background, find the truth about his training and discover who taught him to kill like that at fifteen years old.”

Warren raised an eyebrow.

“And then?”

Ashley’s face became stone.

“Then I lost my capable subordinate, who turned around and became this kid’s subordinate instead. Years of loyal service, gone because Damian Valcor said a few words and made Brian Oleaf question everything he’d ever believed.”

She looked at the assembled officers, making sure they understood.

“You’ve all heard what Raymond Kingsley and the other Imperial heirs had to say about him in their testimonies. How he manipulated everyone, how he controlled their emotions and how dangerous he truly is.”

Her voice became harder.

“This kid is manipulative in ways that would make career politicians envious. Don’t fall for his words and don’t let him get inside your heads the way he did with Brian.”

One of the SFD officers spoke up carefully.

“Ma’am, what do you plan to do with him? The situation is quite complex. The Director warned us previously to not investigate this kid too deeply.”

Ashley’s eyes flashed with something approaching satisfaction.

“The situation is quite different now.”

She gestured toward the door.

“This is the Capitol, not Stormhold Academy. His master can’t just appear here to save him from consequences. He killed Noble students inside that portal and he’ll have to face accountability for those actions.”

Her voice became clinical.

“The director gave Headmaster Kaiser some face previously because the boy hadn’t done anything provable. But that doesn’t mean his disciples can commit murder and walk away clean. And it wasn’t ordinary people he killed this time.”

She looked at Warren specifically.

“If it was ordinary people he killed, it wouldn’t matter much to the higher-ups. Commoners die all the time and nobody with power cares. But there are some Imperial Families involved now… Families who see him as an obstacle to their heirs’ advancement.”

Ashley’s smile became sharp.

“Headmaster Kaiser will face tremendous pressure from multiple directions. Only him alone won’t be able to shield Valcor anymore… Not from this.”

Warren James said nothing, his expression unreadable, but his eyes showed he understood the political calculations being made.

Ashley pushed open the door to Room 7.

****

The scene inside was exactly what Ashley had seen through the window.

Damian Valcor lay curled on the floor in the corner, his blood-stained combat uniform dried and stiff, his crimson hair matted with mud and substances nobody wanted to identify. His breathing was steady but shallow, his face showing exhaustion even in unconsciousness.

He looked nothing like the dangerous manipulator Ashley had just described.

He looked like a traumatized sixteen-year-old who’d survived hell and broken somewhere along the way.

Ashley moved to the table and picked up a thick notebook that had been left there by a previous officer. She held it for a moment, her eyes fixed on Damian’s sleeping form.

Then she raised it and brought it down hard on the metal table.

BAM

The sound exploded through the small room like a gunshot.

****

Damian’s eyes snapped open, but they were empty.

Completely and utterly empty, like looking into a void where a person used to be.

His crimson irises tracked nothing and focused on nothing, seeing things that existed only in his fractured mind.

For several seconds he didn’t move at all, his body remaining curled on the floor as consciousness slowly dragged him back from whatever dark place he’d been lost in.

The breakdown had exhausted him completely, burning through what little mental energy remained after the portal. The forced unconsciousness had given his mind some small measure of recovery, just enough to be aware of his surroundings without truly processing them.

But the clarity hadn’t returned completely and the hallucination hadn’t faded.

Nera still stood there in his vision, exactly where she’d been when he’d passed out. Still wearing that elegant coat, still showing that same expression of disappointment and hatred and still existing more vividly than the real world around him.

Her voice echoed in his head, continuing the accusations that had broken him hours ago.

“Worthless… you let me die… all your fault…”

The words were quieter now, almost background noise, but they never stopped. An endless loop of blame and guilt that his shattered mind couldn’t escape.

’I just want some silence…’

The thought drifted through his consciousness as he recognized where he was.

White room, metal table and the people standing around.

Ashley Blackheart sitting in the chair across from where he was supposed to be.

Five others behind her in a semicircle.

All of them staring at him with expressions ranging from professional neutrality to barely concealed hostility.

“You were too slow, Alessio… too weak… I’m dead because of you…”

Nera’s voice whispered accusations that only he could hear.

Damian pushed himself up slowly from the floor, every movement mechanical and disconnected. His enhanced stats made the physical motion easy, but there was no awareness behind it, just his body going through motions while his mind remained somewhere else.

He reached the chair and sat down heavily with his posture completely slack.

His hands rested on the table, completely still.

His crimson eyes stared at the wall behind Ashley’s head, seeing through her rather than at her, tracking something invisible to everyone else.

“…”

Nobody said anything for several long moments.

Ashley and the officers watched him carefully, noting his condition, seeing the absolute emptiness in his expression.

This wasn’t the sharp and bold teenager she’d interrogated after Norrington.

This was someone who’d broken somewhere along the way and hadn’t managed to put the pieces back together.

“I saved you from nothing… gave you everything… and you let me die alone…”

The hallucination’s voice continued its relentless assault, but Damian’s face showed nothing. No reaction, no emotion and no acknowledgment that he even heard it anymore.

“Long time no see, Mr. Valcor,” Ashley finally said, her voice carrying false pleasantness. “You look like shit.”