A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga - Chapter 317 : Chapter 317

Translator: AkazaTL

Proofreader/Editor: JWyck

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Chapter 317

The next manga chapter updated quickly. I skimmed it—the focus was Jiang Tianming rescuing everyone from Black Flash’s custody.

Unsurprisingly, the newly enhanced Wu Mingbai had a spotlight moment. They were taken to a transfer station—a sizable island, clearly not just for transit.

It had a training base for future organization members. The manga revealed Mo Xiaotian spent his elementary and middle school years there.

Hard to judge. My expression was complex. A villain organization with a youth academy? In a way, quite forward-thinking.

Letting them train students was impossible. Wu Mingbai seized a chance to use [Earth Element] to dissolve the island—yes, dissolve it. The students were evacuated by Black Flash’s staff like disaster relief, letting Jiang Tianming’s group escape.

The manga vividly showed Wu Mingbai’s progress. Before, his [Earth Element] couldn’t manipulate an entire island, let alone precisely avoid Jiang Tianming’s group’s area to target Black Flash’s facilities.

Besides, the main plot involved Black Flash’s increasingly undeniable collaboration with Nightmare Beasts and the attitudes of Gong Yuzhi, Ye Lin, Cyril, and Li Xiang.

As Black Flash’s “Four Heavenly Kings,” even with the leader hiding his intentions, they sensed something. It’d be odd if outsiders noticed but they didn’t.

Cyril was firmly against it, always hating Nightmare Beasts and being a staunch humanist. The leader, aware of this, restricted and sidelined him. Cyril’s position in the organization was shaky.

Li Xiang fully supported the leader, like a weapon with no thoughts of his own, directed solely by the leader’s will.

Gong Yuzhi’s stance was intriguing. She seemed like Li Xiang, a loyal supporter, but she’d been dodging missions, especially those involving Nightmare Beasts, pushing the leader to reassign them.

What was this like? Like knowing the company’s about to collapse and slacking off. She still did other tasks well, like capturing Wu Mingbai, but avoided Nightmare Beast-related ones.

I understood her thinking. After an organization’s fall, strong Ability users often got redemption chances. Ability users were rare—cutting them all was a loss.

But collaborating with Nightmare Beasts was different. An Ability user’s primary, even sole, duty was eliminating them. Colluding meant abandoning that identity, with no leniency if caught.

Gong Yuzhi was securing her escape route.

Ye Lin thought similarly, quietly contacting Meng Huai. Connections were handy—she always had a backup plan. She stayed in Black Flash for her sister, and whether the organization succeeded or survived, she’d ensure her sister’s well-being. But now, she couldn’t stick with Black Flash to the end.

They only contacted once—Mo Xiaotian mentioned the organization’s tight scrutiny, so even she didn’t dare stir trouble now.

As for Mo Xiaotian, he was clueless, thinking everything was as before. He sensed a shift in the organization’s vibe but chalked it up to his grandfather’s bad mood, expecting it to pass.

Poor kid. I shook my head, sighing. Learning the truth would hit him hard.

But it was fine—he wasn’t like Cyril, driven to eliminate Nightmare Beasts. His grandmother was a Nightmare Beast now; the leader would be crazy to groom him that way.

Mo Xiaotian was the nepotism type, caring only for those close to him, not justice. In that, he was like Ye Lin.

But this would trouble him—destroying humans went against his beliefs. His loved ones were human! I was sure he wouldn’t follow his grandfather’s plan to join his Nightmare Beast grandmother.

Those were his problems, though—I wasn’t worried. I just wanted to enjoy my vacation and hoped the next half-month stayed event-free.

The day Jiang Tianming’s group returned, I received thanks from the Yafei king. He wasn’t as petty as I’d feared, perhaps because I was already back home. He sent generous rewards for saving him.

Besides heaps of gold, silver, and jewels, there were plenty of Ability user items—Mental Crystals, Ability items, you name it. Great stuff, but useless to me now.

Maybe the heavens heard my wish—the rest of the summer was indeed event-free, not just for me but for Jiang Tianming’s group too.

The vacation flew by, and we safely reached the new school year.

On the first day, I dragged myself to school. School was such a pain—hard to imagine anyone arriving full of energy.

At the school gate, seeing the youthful, enthusiastic faces of oblivious first-year students, I felt a rare pang of nostalgia. In a blink, we were second-years, someone’s seniors.

I couldn’t help recalling my first day as a first-year. Freshly awakened, my Ability was weak, landing me in Class F, but becoming an Ability user and exploring a new world was exciting.

Sadly, fate didn’t let me enjoy it long. That first day, I got tangled in that mess, forced to start saving the world.

Surviving a year in such a tight plot was pretty impressive, right? A slight smile crept onto my face.

“Su Bei… Senior!” A vaguely familiar female voice called from behind, but I couldn’t place it.

Turning, I widened my eyes in rare surprise: “Zhou Min?!”

Zhou Min, the second daughter of Longevity Town’s richest Zhou family, the only survivor besides Officer Zhou, and the incredibly lucky beneficiary of the ancestor’s array.

She was unrecognizable from when I last saw her—pale, in a black dress, looking near death. Now, her cheeks were rosy, her smile bright, clearly living well.

After a brief pause, realization flashed in my eyes. After leaving Longevity Village, I’d told the teacher handling the aftermath to check Zhou Min’s Ability. The manga later confirmed my guess—she did have one.

Her enrolling at Endless Ability Academy made perfect sense.

“You remember me!” Zhou Min’s eyes lit up, hurrying over. “Long time no see. Thank you for having the teacher test my Ability.”

She’d rehearsed this meeting many times, finally expressing her gratitude. After that incident, fearing complications, she’d planned to hide her Ability forever. Without the teacher, she might’ve missed this chance to attend the Academy and use her Ability openly.

If I knew her thoughts, I’d probably look puzzled. I didn’t suggest it out of kindness—just concern she’d use her Ability for trouble outside.

“No need to thank me,” I tilted my head, asking casually, “So, what’s your Ability?”

No intent to hide, Zhou Min answered happily: “It’s [Eavesdropping]. I’m in Class D. What about you, Senior Su Bei? Can I know your Ability?”

My Ability wasn’t a secret in the Ability world, so I replied directly: “[Destiny Gear].”

“Sounds powerful,” Zhou Min wasn’t surprised. I didn’t look ordinary.

Though meeting an old acquaintance, beyond initial surprise, I felt little else. About to say a goodbye, Jiang Tianming and two others approached.

“Su Bei!” Seeing a classmate from afar, Jiang Tianming called out cheerfully, then noticed the girl facing away, hesitating: “Who’s this?”

Her back didn’t look like anyone from our class. Since when did I have such a friend? Lan Subing’s eyes darted between Zhou Min and me, gossip practically spilling out.

Catching their drift, I shrugged: “You know her too.”

As I spoke, Zhou Min turned, hands behind her back, smiling: “Long time no see. Remember me?”

“You’re…” Jiang Tianming hesitated, memory slowly returning. “Zhou… Min?”

Having barely spoken to her, his impression was faint. If not for her uncanny luck and the bizarre end to the Longevity Village incident, he might not have recalled her.

Zhou Min nodded vigorously: “That’s me!”

“Who’s this?” Wu Mingbai asked curiously. Lan Subing looked at Jiang Tianming, equally curious.

Jiang Tianming briefly said Zhou Min was someone from a past mission, blinking hard to signal there was more to it, to be explained later.

Lan Subing and Wu Mingbai got the hint and didn’t press. After Zhou Min left, they eagerly listened to Jiang Tianming recount the experience.

Seeing them head toward our old classroom, I quickly stopped them: “We’re second-years now—new classroom.”

Meng Huai had mentioned in the group a few days ago that second-years moved to another building. Lan Subing sighed: “I just followed these people instinctively. So they’re all new first-years?”

“Looks like it,” Wu Mingbai echoed my earlier sentiment. “We’re seniors now.”

In elementary or middle school, being a senior wasn’t a big deal—just different material, with little interaction between grades.

But at the Ability Academy, it was different. Except for strong students like us who could take missions solo, most needed seniors to guide them.

Seniors had a real duty to protect juniors, making bonds tighter than in regular schools, with the shift in status feeling more pronounced.

Lan Subing said worriedly: “Wonder if we’ll have to mentor juniors…”

“No worries. Even if we do, it won’t be one-on-one,” Jiang Tianming reassured, knowing her concern.

Chatting, we reached the new classroom. It was similar to the old one, but the walls seemed different—ordinary plaster before, now…

I touched the wall, feeling it was much sturdier. I didn’t test it with a Gear—that’d earn a beating from Meng Huai.

Classmates trickled in, all but one—Li Shu.

As half the class arrived, I wondered if Li Shu was coming back. His manga behavior suggested a plot. Not showing up half the day, with my manga trope knowledge, I was sure he’d kick off the semester’s first event.

Sure enough, Meng Huai entered and announced two bombshells: “Li Shu dropped out. The class has fourteen students now. Per S-Class rules, we need ten by next month. There’ll be a 13-to-10 elimination match—prepare early.”

The news hit hard, leaving everyone unsure what to focus on. Li Shu’s sudden dropout or the unexpected elimination match left us reeling.

“Wait, Teacher, why’d Li Shu drop out?” Jiang Tianming recovered first, asking the more pressing question. Dropping a class was one thing—dropping out was far worse.

Though he sometimes found Li Shu’s clinginess annoying, he saw him as a friend, a close one even in S-Class, just with an odd dynamic.

Li Shu dropping out without warning felt wrong to Jiang Tianming.

A glint of meaning flashed in Meng Huai’s eyes as he shook his head: “It’s the student’s personal matter. The Academy only needs confirmation it’s his request and parental consent.”

Jiang Tianming didn’t press, but his expression showed he wasn’t letting this go easily.

Next, Zhou Renjie raised his hand. Li Shu’s dropout was minor to him—being eliminated from S-Class was the real issue: “Teacher, is the elimination for real?”

“Would I joke?” Meng Huai smirked. “You should’ve known this from the start.”

They did, but it’d been so long, and it wasn’t good news, so they assumed the Academy wouldn’t kick them out. Who knew this setting would hit in second year?

“…What’s the elimination match?” Mu Tieren asked, lips pursed, hitting the key question.

Meng Huai was generous with info: “Don’t know. The Academy hasn’t decided. You’ll know by month’s end.”

They thought he’d share something useful, but that? Already upset, Wu Mingbai sneered: “Not used to it yet? That’s Endless Ability Academy—free and democratic.”

Exams never revealed what was tested. Those unaware might think they were testing fortune-telling skills.

Meng Huai didn’t mind the jab, pausing before adding meaningfully: “One more thing—you can voluntarily drop out. If four do so before the exam, no test needed.”

He smirked, said no more, and left.

Once he was gone, thoughts raced. Normally, they’d discuss, but with competition involved, both strong and weak were cautious, unable to talk freely, only pondering inwardly.

Meng Huai’s meaning was clear: avoid the exam by having four drop out. But getting into S-Class was hard, and after a year, leaving meant struggling to fit into other classes. Who’d willingly drop out?

Even Zhao Xiaoyu, knowing she might not pass and already offered a school job, wasn’t willing to give up her S-Class spot. Passing the exam was one thing—giving up her rightful place was another.

“Does someone have to drop out?” Ai Baozhu complained. “If only ten can stay, why admit so many? Even if they did, the elimination should’ve started earlier. A year in S-Class, and now this? That’s too much!”

“Is there no wiggle room?” Zhao Xiaoyu asked Wu Jin seriously.

Wu Jin shook his head, not denying but unsure: “I don’t know. I’ll ask when I get home.”

Having a connected classmate was great—it provided reliable answers, at least. Everyone felt reassured, even if the answer might not be what they wanted—they’d at least tried with the Academy’s top brass.

But they didn’t know the real insider was in the class. Looking out the window, I recalled Lei Ze’en’s words. The exam and elimination were real, but unless you dropped out voluntarily, you wouldn’t leave S-Class.

When Meng Huai hinted at voluntary dropouts, I nearly rolled my eyes. Scheming, Teacher Meng—always setting traps for students.

Clearly, no one planned to drop out. I overheard Zhao Xiaoyu urging Wu Jin to dig into the exam’s content—she wasn’t giving up either.

“Should I block Li Shu?” Jiang Tianming’s shocked voice rang out.

Hearing him, others looked over, stunned after processing his words. Li Shu blocked Jiang Tianming? The sun rose in the west?

Realizing something, everyone pulled out their phones to message Li Shu, unsurprisingly finding themselves blocked too.

Jiang Tianming went silent, then said: “Anyone know where Li Shu lives? I want to visit his place this weekend.”

This was too abnormal. They’d been fine recently—why the sudden mass blocking and dropout? Even if he was dropping out, why block them? It felt like covering something up.

“Like a cry for help…” Jiang Tianming murmured gravely, standing abruptly to leave. “I’m asking Teacher Meng.”

If Li Shu hadn’t blocked them and offered a casual explanation, Jiang Tianming might’ve let it slide. But this blatant blocking was practically shouting a problem—a veiled plea for help.

He couldn’t coldly ignore a friend’s call for aid. That’d make him despise himself.

Watching his back, Qi Huang thought for a moment and raised her hand: “I’m going with you!”

Though they seemed incompatible, she and Li Shu got along well. They’d been in the same class without clashing. Sure, Li Shu was delicate, but not toward her.

Most importantly, when Li Shu got snarky, Qi Huang fired back without holding grudges. Li Shu might hold a grudge and snipe back, but it was a closed loop.