I'm an Extra, so What?
Chapter 105 - 105: Torture

Luka slumped back down onto the floor, resting his head against the stone wall as his thoughts drifted to his personal maid, Serene.

'She couldn't have gotten herself arrested, could she?' he pondered, his fingers tapping idly against the stone floor. No… I don't see her anywhere…'

He glanced around once more.

'Though, she could be in another location… or maybe she managed to slip away…'

Luka rubbed the bridge of his nose, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

'This whole situation is fucked.'

He didn't even get a proper explanation—just a lot of shouting, a bit of shoving, and then darkness.

Now, he was sitting in some underground Elven dungeon, with no clue where his personal maid was or even what happened to the elf girl.

'I swear, I save a royal and get thrown in a cell. Just my luck.'

Suddenly, the soft clack of footsteps broke the silence, echoing down the stone corridor.

Luka's eyes snapped open, his senses sharpening.

The footsteps were steady, measured, and accompanied by the faint sound of metal shifting—

'A guard, maybe more than one.'

Luka pushed himself up, leaning against the bars to catch a glimpse of his visitor.

Rounding the corner came the elf captain from earlier, his stern face even more severe in the dim light.

Two others followed behind him, their forms covered in sleek black armor, faces entirely concealed by dark, expressionless masks.

The elf captain stopped in front of the cell.

"You'll be coming with us, human."

"Really? No food first? Not even a glass of water?" Luka quipped, raising his eyebrows.

His smile was pure insolence.

The elf captain didn't respond; he simply reached forward and slid a key into the iron lock.

The heavy metal groaned in protest before it clicked open, and the cell swung wide.

The masked elves stepped forward—

Luka raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Easy there, I'm cooperating," he chuckled, stepping forward slowly.

One of the masked elves grabbed him by the arm, his grip like iron.

As they led him out, Luka glanced back at the empty space he'd been trapped in.

'Let's hope I don't see that place again,' he thought.

They marched him through narrow, winding corridors, the air growing colder and more oppressive the deeper they went.

Luka tried to keep track of the path, noting turns and distinct markings on the walls, but it became a labyrinth the further they moved.

He couldn't shake the feeling that wherever they were taking him, it was somewhere that most prisoners didn't come back from.

Finally, they stopped in front of a large iron door, its surface etched with ancient Elven script that glowed faintly with mana.

The elf captain stepped forward, placing his hand on the markings, and whispered something under his breath.

The symbols flared brighter, and the door creaked open with a low, rumbling groan.

"Move," one of the masked elves growled, shoving the human forward.

Luka stumbled slightly but caught his balance.

As he crossed the threshold, the stench hit him first—

Stale blood and decaying flesh, thick and unrelenting.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust, his eyes adjusting to the dim light that flickered off grimy stone walls.

The room was vast but suffocating, filled with torture equipment that looked like they hadn't seen proper maintenance in years.

Iron maidens with rusted hinges, racks with fraying ropes, spiked chairs glistening with old stains.

There were bodies, too—some fresh, chained and lifeless, their expressions twisted in agony.

Others had long since passed, their forms reduced to skeletons still shackled to the walls.

The bones were yellowed and brittle, fingers still curled as if clawing for freedom that never came.

"I'm not about to be tortured, am I?" Luka asked, forcing a laugh that sounded more awkward than he'd intended.

His eyes darted from the iron cuffs bolted to the walls to the spiked wheels leaning ominously against the far side.

"I mean, I didn't exactly pencil that into my schedule."

His joke was met with stony silence as the masked elves grabbed his arms, yanking him forward with practiced efficiency.

"…" Luka barely struggled—there wasn't much point.

They forced his arms above his head, binding his wrists to the wall with iron shackles.

The metal bit into his skin.

He tested the restraints with a slight pull; they didn't budge an inch.

'Well, this is just great,' Luka thought sarcastically, leaning his head back against the stone.

His expression was blank, masking the simmering annoyance that burned just beneath the surface.

He couldn't help but shoot a glare at the elf captain, who was busy conversing in hushed tones with the masked elves.

A few nods exchanged, and the masked figures left the room silently.

The elf captain took a step forward, his boots clicking against the stone.

His expression was impassive, almost bored, as he stopped just out of reach.

"Either confess to your crime, or be tortured until you admit it," the elf captain stated flatly, folding his arms behind his back.

"We just need a verbal or non-verbal confirmation. Once you confess, the torture ceases, and you will be brought before the council for rightful punishment."

Luka blinked at him, his mouth slightly open.

"How the hell is that fair?" he asked incredulously.

The absurdity of it almost made him laugh.

'So basically, confess or get beaten until you do. Yeah, that sounds real civil.'

The elf captain's lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though it held no warmth.

"It's fair because we caught you in the very act itself," he replied smugly.

"We merely seek your confession to ensure the process remains just. We are a civilized race, unlike you humans."

Luka scoffed loudly.

"Civilized? You call this civilized?"

He nodded toward the dried blood and rusted tools around him.

"Forgive me if I'm not impressed by your sense of justice. And for the record, you didn't catch me in the act of anything. I saved that girl, something your incompetent guards failed to do."

Luka let out a laugh.

"Let me guess... that's why I'm here, right? Because it would look real bad if the Elf King found out you lot couldn't protect her, and a human had to step in?"

The elf captain's face tightened, his eyes narrowing.

A flicker of annoyance broke through his otherwise calm demeanor.

Luka grinned, his eyes glinting with triumph.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. This whole thing's just you saving face, huh? Gotta make it look like you did your job."

The elf captain's gaze hardened.

He glanced back toward the entrance, where the two masked elves reappeared—one carrying a coiled whip, its leather cracked and stained, and the other holding a torch whose flames licked hungrily at the air.

Luka's grin didn't falter.

If anything, it grew wider.

"I'm guessing this is the part where you try and beat the truth out of me? Real civilized."

The elf captain stepped forward until he was mere inches from the human's face.

His breath was cold and smelled faintly of mint.

"You talk too much for someone in your position," the elf captain sneered.

"Humans always think they can outsmart their betters. But you will break... they always do."

Luka raised an eyebrow, unphased. "We'll see about that."

The elf captain stepped back and nodded to the masked elves.

The one with the whip cracked it in the air, the sound slicing through the room like a blade.

Luka's eyes remained locked on the elf captain's.

"Go ahead," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

"Let's see just how 'civilized' you really are."

The masked elf wasted no time, the whip snapping through the air like a viper, biting into the flesh with vicious precision.

Luka clenched his jaw, muscles tightening as the leather cracked against his skin, shredding fabric and leaving red welts that quickly bled.

He bit his lip, copper tang filling his mouth as he held back the grunt clawing its way up his throat.

The masked elf swung again, and again—

Each strike carving lines of pain across Luka's chest, his stomach, and his sides.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his head tilted back against the stone wall as droplets of crimson splattered against the floor.

Minutes crawled by, each second stretching longer than the last.

Luka's vision blurred at the edges, sweat mingling with blood as it dripped from his chin.

Finally, the elf captain raised his hand.

The masked elf halted immediately, stepping back with a bow of his head.

The elf captain approached.

He crouched slightly so his gaze was level with the human, his voice smooth and patient.

"Will you confess?"

Luka stared back, chest heaving, his eyes glassy but still sharp with defiance.

His lips curled into a grin, blood staining his teeth.

Without a word, he spat—

A wad of crimson-tinged saliva splattered across the elf captain's cheek.

The room went still.

Even the masked elves flinched slightly, their gloved hands tightening around their weapons.

The elf captain raised a hand to wipe the spit from his face.

His expression remained composed, but his eyes were stormy, thunderclouds darkening with every passing second.

He stepped back, his voice like frost. "Whip him harder."

The masked elf hesitated only for a breath before nodding once.

Luka's eyes followed the gloved hand as it tightened around the whip, pulling it taut before it was swung forward with renewed vigor.

This time, the lash tore through flesh with a ferocity that made Luka's back arch involuntarily, his head slamming against the stone behind him.

He clenched his teeth, a sharp hiss escaping before he forced it back down.

Blood splattered the floor in thicker streams, running down his torso and pooling at his feet.

The elf captain watched, his eyes never leaving the human's face.

He seemed to drink in the sight of this pain, waiting for the moment the person would break.

But Luka only laughed, the sound strained and rough, but unmistakably a laugh.

He raised his head.

"That's all you got? A human could swing harder than you."

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