A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga - Chapter 315 : Chapter 315

Translator: AkazaTL
Proofreader/Editor: JWyck
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Chapter 315
Though Yafei’s crisis ended when the guardian god lost its energy, fully resolving the incident took a long time.
Dealing with the sudden surge of Nightmare Beasts wasn’t a quick task, not to mention the time-consuming and laborious post-disaster rebuilding.
Rarely, the author didn’t update the manga right after the event. I guessed the rebuilding was part of the plot, and the manga wouldn’t update until Jiang Tianming and the others returned home.
During this time, I got Yafei updates from the class group, the official website, and the Destiny organization’s database.
The class group shared what Jiang Tianming and the others were up to. As Ability users, their primary job was eliminating Nightmare Beasts, leaving other tasks to ordinary people.
For the first few days, they focused on clearing Yafei’s sudden Nightmare Beast surge, working with Academy-sent Ability users to trace their origins.
Normally, Nightmare Beasts couldn’t hide en masse in the human world. Different Space entrances, wherever they appeared, were tightly guarded. Even stealth-capable Nightmare Beasts struggled to escape.
So far, the only known way for wild Nightmare Beasts to enter was through Different Space entrances. They suspected an undiscovered entrance was letting them pour in.
I thought the same—Black Flash likely controlled several such entrances. If they collaborated with Nightmare Beasts, letting them through, it’d be terrifying.
Notably, Meng Huai was among the reinforcements, confirming to me that Yafei’s plot wasn’t over. Without a plot, there was no need to send Teacher Meng. As the protagonist group’s teacher, he had that kind of clout.
As expected, after two days of clearing Nightmare Beasts, the protagonist group hit a snag. Jiang Tianming messaged the group, saying someone seemed to be targeting them. Lately, they kept encountering high-level Nightmare Beasts when clearing alone.
Though Yafei had many Nightmare Beasts this time, high-level ones were always rare. Encountering so many at once could only mean someone was targeting them.
But why? Ai Baozhu was puzzled. Though she thought highly of herself, she wasn’t vain enough to believe Nightmare Beasts would skip stronger Ability users to target a few minors.
Sure, minors were the nation’s flowers, and they were the brightest blooms, but compared to mature “fruits,” their utility was limited.
This targeting felt like using a butcher’s cleaver to kill a chicken. Who’d do that? Though, the cleaver hadn’t killed the chicken yet.
As a bystander, I saw it clearly—the Nightmare Beasts were targeting Wu Mingbai!
They came to Yafei for Gao Di An Zhuo, either to turn It fully into a Nightmare Beast or to gain Its vital Earth Attribute energy. Either way, they’d profit.
But the result was that they worked for nothing—Wu Mingbai, leveraging his bloodline, reaped all the benefits, while they got nothing and suffered heavy losses. These Nightmare Beasts from the Nightmare Beast world couldn’t return—Black Flash wouldn’t expose their Different Spaces to take them in.
Most importantly, killing the guardian god, even without gaining energy, would’ve benefited them. As a human-aligned, powerful entity, Its death would tip the balance between humans and Nightmare Beasts. The sacrifice would’ve been worth it.
But Wu Mingbai absorbing all Its energy changed everything. Even if he couldn’t fully use it for a while, it was a massive loss for the Nightmare Beasts.
If they didn’t target Wu Mingbai, the big winner, that’d be strange.
I knew they hadn’t considered this not because they couldn’t, but because they didn’t know the Nightmare Beasts were aware of it. Only S-Class members and the king’s guards were present then—no Nightmare Beasts could’ve infiltrated the castle.
Logically, no one should know. Not just Nightmare Beasts—unless they leaked it, no one would.
But this was a manga world. If no one knew Wu Mingbai absorbed the Earth Element, wouldn’t that cut out a lot of trouble? The author wouldn’t skip such drama, so I knew from the start it couldn’t stay hidden. The only question was whether Black Flash or the Nightmare Beasts found out first.
Wu Mingbai hadn’t fully absorbed the Earth Element energy yet—it was stored in his body, and fully integrating it would take time.
So, he’d been frantically fighting Nightmare Beasts, using his Ability and Mental Energy to speed up absorption. His chat frequency showed he was busier than the others, barely talking these days.
The official website shared disaster relief updates. No nation ever did good deeds anonymously—supporting countries hyped their efforts on their sites, and Yafei, as the recipient, helped amplify it.
Additionally, Yafei’s guardian god was officially history. Their website announced Its death but didn’t mention Wu Mingbai.
As a prince, even if Wu Mingbai wasn’t staying, the king wouldn’t reveal this to put him in danger.
I wondered how Wu Mingbai convinced the king to let him leave. I thought I’d see it in the manga, but it hadn’t updated.
The Destiny organization provided Black Flash-related intel. For others, Black Flash’s Yafei activities were secret, but despite their strict secrecy, leaks surfaced post-incident.
For example, Black Flash members were spotted near the castle, a leader’s Ability item was activated, two teams were sent for this Yafei operation, and some members went missing…
This intel all pointed to Black Flash’s deep ties to Yafei’s turmoil, though it wasn’t clear what they did.
Given Yafei’s events, their actions boiled down to two possibilities: researching the guardian god and doing something to It, or aiming to destroy It by collaborating with Nightmare Beasts.
If the former, it was typical—Black Flash often used “research” as a cover for misdeeds. Endangering civilians to study the guardian god was par for the course.
But some smart folks noticed Black Flash’s plans overlapped too much with Nightmare Beasts’ lately.
In the past, Black Flash targeted Ability users, with little public news of them targeting Nightmare Beasts. Except during campaigns when they openly helped humans, they were rarely linked to Nightmare Beasts.
But recently, Black Flash members kept appearing alongside Nightmare Beasts. Though each time had a reasonable explanation, it felt off.
I saw someone on the Ability Record Book offering points to ask if Black Flash was collaborating with Nightmare Beasts.
I really wanted to confirm it outright. Destiny’s secrecy was tight—even if the leader saw my answer, they couldn’t trace it to me.
But I couldn’t. First, such claims needed evidence. A single “yes” wouldn’t cut it—even Destiny couldn’t verify it, let alone the questioner.
Second, exposing Black Flash’s plot early might disrupt the author’s plans, causing unnecessary complications.
Since the author had absolute control over the manga, I preferred tweaking the plot during events, like saving the king. His survival cut some planned plot, but my rescue filled the gap, so it was fine.
Planting foreshadowing beforehand? I’d love to, but a manga character messing with the plot early on? That’s treating the author like a decoration. The earlier I stirred, the more time the author had to react, potentially screwing myself over.
I figured the next plot I’d join was far off—if I was lucky, maybe no events would occur this summer. I was relaxed. But summer wasn’t for chilling—every teacher said it was a chance to get ahead.
Not joining the plot to progress, I’d boost my knowledge instead. Studying in bed was more comfortable than fighting out there.
A week after returning home, I woke to find no messages in the group. These chatterboxes were usually active, especially on missions, staying up late and waking early, with 99+ messages daily.
The lack of messages was odd.
I raised an eyebrow, knowing a plot had likely kicked off. Sure enough, that evening, Manga Consciousness chimed: “King of Abilities has updated. Please check.”
Opening the manga, the last chapter ended at the post-banquet late-night snack, revealing info to set up the next arc.
At breakfast, Lan Subing was quietly grumbling about Ling You’s intel. Ling You listened silently, nodding occasionally, clearly finding it absurd too.
Next was the cheerful celebration. Though lacking exciting programs, for a shonen manga, peaceful daily life was joyful.
The brief daily life ended fast—my disappearance, the earthquake, disaster relief… it hit so suddenly, readers could barely react, stumbling forward with the plot.
Readers weren’t shocked by my vanishing anymore. I even saw a comment: “Su Bei actually gave a heads-up before running—how touching.” Hard to imagine what my image was now, but it suited my needs.
I nodded, satisfied, and kept reading.
The earlier plot didn’t involve me, and with Li Shu’s live updates, I knew most of it. I skipped the familiar parts, cherry-picking unknowns.
First was Mo Xiaotian’s movements. In the manga, he blended into the air alone, cautious but clumsy, entering the castle—knocking over a vase, nearly tripping on stairs, like a silent comedy.
But I couldn’t laugh.
Blending into the air like that? I knew Mo Xiaotian had improved a lot since disappearing, but this much was unexpected. Invisibility was a god-tier skill, especially his air-blending kind, nearly undetectable. I even saw him half-vaporize his body to avoid touching two maids on the stairs.
Maxed-out defense—though he couldn’t sustain it, it was huge in critical moments.
Readers were shocked too.
“Little Tian, are you secretly super-evolved?”
“Such a strong skill! I knew [Air] Ability was OP!”
“Everyone’s leveling up!”
“I want this skill—must-have in some cities, friends!”
“Invisibility achievement unlocked!”
“What’s he doing in the castle? Smells like a conspiracy.”
Besides this, another unknown scene happened before my appearance. Li Shu got a call, and the moment he saw the caller ID, his expression darkened.
Though Li Shu had a pink-haired, delicate image, aside from early interactions with Jiang Tianming, he was pretty normal later.
But this frame? I had no doubt he could turn into a world-destroying, delicate villain boss.
Whose call rattled him so much? I was curious.
The author didn’t tease long—the next page revealed the answer. The phone screen showed “Father.”
Ah, a toxic family member. Knowing manga tropes, I nodded knowingly.
Many manga characters have such relatives—malicious, domineering, manipulative, or controlling—causing psychological issues.
It’s an old trope but enduring. Li Shu was likely no exception.
In King of Abilities, the protagonist group’s plots often tied to family, each uniquely.
Jiang Tianming’s parents were dead, but his first two Abilities were deeply tied to them.
Wu Mingbai, just wrapping his arc, found his parents as a foreign prince.
Mu Tieren’s plot involved family too—a controlling uncle and a father helping him but mainly for research.
Zhou Renjie’s family brought negative effects, his issues stemming more from a scheming clan that bred no good people.
Feng Lan’s uncle collaborated with Black Flash, causing a tragedy—arguably worse than Zhou Renjie’s, as Zhou chose to be an undercover, while Feng Lan was a victim.
Wu Jin’s father was Endless Ability Academy’s principal—enough for a plotline.
Mo Xiaotian’s grandfather was Black Flash’s leader, tying with Wu Jin as King of Abilities’ biggest nepotism cases.
The rest—Zhao Xiaoyu’s family were ordinary, Lan Subing and Qi Huang had loving parents, Ling You lived with her mother, and Ai Baozhu and Si Zhaohua came from thriving clans—lacked plot triggers.
Li Shu never mentioned his parents, only that they visited once on Open Day. Thinking back, he seemed to have no presence that day.
This father likely had a unique style compared to the others—just not sure what plot it’d bring.
Honestly, I didn’t like these plots, especially knowing this was a manga world. I shied away from such innate settings.
I was fine as a pure cannon fodder—authors likely wouldn’t bother giving me a detailed family background, maybe just dead parents.
Dead parents were a prerequisite for my cannon fodder role—cause, not effect. My experiences were naturally formed, not author-driven. Their deaths weren’t plot-manipulated.
But the protagonist group’s family backgrounds, especially plot-relevant ones, were author-designed. Their choices reflected their character and values, but family was purely the author’s setup. Thinking about it felt stifling.
If I had such a background, or my parents died just to give me hardship, I’d find a way to cross into the third dimension and take out the author.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I continued reading. Li Shu stood grimly for a while before answering the call. The man on the other end spoke lightly: “Time to come back, Li Shu.”
Li Shu’s pink pupils trembled slightly, but he replied respectfully: “Yes, Father, I understand.”
From this, I roughly grasped what kind of figure this father was—absolutely dominant, uncompromising, perhaps a sanctimonious smiling tiger.
What plot could such a person bring?
Readers, equally curious, flooded the comments.
“This father doesn’t seem like a good guy.”
“What’s Li Shu’s family background?”
“His face is so dark!”
“Smells like a side arc!”
“This expression is true delicate villain—say he’ll destroy the world, and I’d believe it.”
“Is it time for Li Shu’s arc?”
“Feels like his family’s no good either (wait, why did I say ‘either’?)”
Skimming quickly, I reached Wu Mingbai’s infiltration plot. I’d seen it all clearly via tablet, except how he communicated with Gao Di An Zhuo.
The manga clarified that.
Under the stimulus of near-death, Wu Mingbai connected with Gao Di An Zhuo’s lingering sanity via the Earth Element in the air, achieving mental resonance. The manga depicted this as thrilling—reality was too.
Per Wu Mingbai’s instructions, Ai Baozhu activated her Ability just before the orb hit. A split-second slower, and he’d be a corpse.
Compared to reality’s brief two-second thrill, the manga’s depiction was far more vivid, deeply immersive.
[In the pitch-black environment, Gao Di An Zhuo briefly explained Its current state and origins, then asked Wu Mingbai: “If you were me, what would you choose now?”
It asked seriously, but with an ominous vibe, as if a wrong answer would lead to doom.
Wu Mingbai dropped his fake smile, thought carefully, and answered: “Without sanity, I’d rather die. But before that, I’d try to take down whoever did this to me.”
Uncertain if satisfied, Gao Di An Zhuo sighed faintly: “I can’t avenge myself. Will you find the culprit who altered the faith energy and avenge me?”
No doubt, it was a troublesome task, possibly taking ages or even impossible. But Wu Mingbai agreed: “I will.”
“Why?” Surprised he agreed, Gao Di An Zhuo paused, then, suspecting he was just placating, Its aura grew dangerous again.
Unfazed by the danger, Wu Mingbai flashed his usual naive smile: “Because you’re my ancestor.”
Gao Di An Zhuo fell silent, emerging from its near-uncontrolled rage to laugh: “In that case, let this old ancestor give you one last blessing.”]
That was how Wu Mingbai gained all of Gao Di An Zhuo’s energy—a seemingly simple conversation fraught with danger. The guardian god asked three questions, and the black mist-like corruption behind It showed that a single wrong answer would’ve left Wu Mingbai unable to leave unscathed, let alone gain massive benefits.
For a non-natural talent to navigate this high-pressure situation without triggering a trap and even snag a hidden Easter egg—justice truly prevailed.
As for how sincere Wu Mingbai’s answers were, I estimated 80-90% genuine. Whether driven by human gratitude or a love for stirring things up, he truly wanted to avenge It. The last answer was just a clever dodge.


