A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga - Chapter 319 : Chapter 319

Translator: AkazaTL

Proofreader/Editor: JWyck

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Chapter 319

Clearly, he’d nailed my personality, “forcing” me to help. But Jiang Tianming didn’t know this was exactly what I wanted. I loved teammates who gave me reasons to act.

“No worries,” I said with a half-smile. “You’ll definitely make it to the island.”

Wu Mingbai started digging after Jiang Tianming’s decision but soon hit a snag: “Can’t do it. I can’t keep the lake calm while digging.”

Frowning, his eyes held frustration. Since gaining the guardian god’s power, he’d been ultra-confident. Yet, so soon, he faced a setback.

The lake was deep, and digging underneath wasn’t easy. He couldn’t dig too deep either—it risked hitting facilities, getting us caught.

Seeing faint ripples on the water, we realized the issue’s severity. The guards weren’t blind; even in the dark, they’d notice odd waves and suspect foul play.

“Now what? Switch methods?” Qi Huang raised an eyebrow, checking the time. “Half an hour till the next boat. Do we use it to plan boarding?”

Mu Tieren looked at me: “Didn’t Su Bei say that won’t work?”

“He meant our original boarding plan, right?” Qi Huang turned to me for confirmation.

Seeing their still-poor luck, I spread my hands: “Neither works. Find a new way.”

After a thought, I added: “If you can’t, stick with the old plan. It’ll fail, but luck turns after hitting rock bottom.”

With their current luck, anything would fail unless Jiang Tianming found a foolproof plan. Best to fail once, burn the bad luck, and let it normalize.

I could adjust their luck directly, but wasting Mental Energy pointlessly? Not my style.

Jiang Tianming looked thoughtful, deciding to go with it: “Split up. Mingbai, keep digging. The rest of us draw their attention.”

It was dark, making lake ripples less noticeable. If we drew all the attention, Wu Mingbai could work freely.

I raised my hand timely: “I’ll stay here. If there’s danger, I’ll warn.”

Meaning warn Wu Mingbai, who needed full focus to dig. I could mitigate risks. Jiang Tianming nodded, agreeing.

We split. My side was calm; Jiang Tianming’s was chaotic. Their efficiency was high—within ten minutes, the dock erupted.

Even from afar, I heard shouts of “Catch them!” The protagonist group’s knack for trouble finally served a purpose, perfectly drawing all enemy attention.

No idea how long Wu Mingbai’s tunnel would take, but it wouldn’t be quick. I pulled a stool and fishing rod from my Storage Space and started fishing by the lake.

Wu Mingbai, glancing up from digging: “?”

He stared incredulously between me and the rod: “Why do you carry a fishing rod on a mission?”

“There’s more,” I set the rod aside, pulling out a deck of cards, a chessboard, some manga…

Under Wu Mingbai’s stunned gaze, I grinned proudly at the pile of entertainment: “You know I hate being bored.”

This wasn’t about boredom—it was sheer idleness! Wu Mingbai looked speechless, skipping sarcasm for a direct jab: “If you’re bored, do more! Join them in causing chaos—won’t that keep you busy?”

I had my logic: “I like watching the show, not acting in it.”

Unswayed, Wu Mingbai refocused on digging. I kept fishing, monitoring his Destiny Compass for emergencies.

“Stop, now!” I quickly reeled in, warning Wu Mingbai. His compass pointer swung right—trouble was coming.

Logically, I’d slap an Invisibility Charm on him, but touching him now might startle him, collapsing the tunnel he’d worked hard to build.

Even with reliable teammates nearby, Wu Mingbai couldn’t fully immerse in his task. He reacted instantly, stopping his Ability: “What’s up?”

I shook my head, unsure, then slapped an Invisibility Charm on him. Seeing his pointer shift left, I said lazily: “Don’t say I didn’t help. This thing’s worth a fortune.”

Before Wu Mingbai could reply, two men teleported nearby. One said, puzzled: “I sensed someone here. Where are they?”

“Ran off!” the other snapped. “Let’s go—they’re long gone.”

He pulled his companion along, and they vanished.

Wu Mingbai and I exchanged a glance, staying still, counting stars. As the charm neared expiry, I slapped another on each of us.

Ten minutes later, the men reappeared at the same spot. The teleporter shook his head: “They’re really gone. Let’s not waste time.”

They nodded and walked to the dock.

We waited five more minutes, confirming they wouldn’t return, then dropped invisibility. Wu Mingbai hesitated: “They’ve got skills like that. Should we move?”

“No need. If they could keep checking, they wouldn’t have left,” I shook my head. “Whether it’s a cooldown or they can’t scan one spot for long, staying’s best.”

Sound reasoning. Wu Mingbai resumed building the tunnel. Maybe because luck stabilized, we faced no more interruptions. Once done, he pulled out a rooster-crest-shaped item and pressed it. A rooster crow sounded far away.

I blinked: “?”

This item was wild—used here, but the sound came from afar. Practical, though. If someone suspected the crow, they’d be led far off, not to us.

Soon, Jiang Tianming’s group shook off their pursuers and returned. Once gathered, Wu Mingbai tapped the tunnel entrance: “Here it is. Let’s go.”

He jumped in first, with the others following confidently. With an [Earth Element] user, even a collapse wouldn’t trap us.

“‘Let there be light,’” Lan Subing used [Word Spirit] to illuminate the dark, endless tunnel, accelerating our pace.

Nearing the end, Jiang Tianming asked: “Do you know where this exists?”

Silence. After a moment, Wu Mingbai coughed: “I didn’t open the other end, so we won’t be exposed. Just go up when no one’s around.”

He’d nearly forgotten but had been cautious enough not to dig through.

I scanned above with Mental Energy: “One person’s up there. Seems the tunnel leads to someone’s bedroom. They’re asleep.”

An asleep person wouldn’t leave soon, but we couldn’t linger. Avoiding skipping class was ideal; we still hoped for a quick resolution.

Mu Tieren suggested: “Can we dig further to another spot?”

“Not really,” Wu Mingbai sighed. “The island’s underground is mostly occupied. This was the only path. Surface spots might be safer; underground likely has defenses.”

Lan Subing had a fix: “Just one person? We sneak up, and I use [Word Spirit] to control them.”

“Keep them asleep,” Jiang Tianming nodded.

Wu Mingbai manipulated the soil above, silently dissolving it into a large hole. Lan Subing went first, using her Ability: “‘Sleep.’”

After confirming it was safe, we followed, seeing the setting. It was a bedroom with a man in his thirties asleep. Pink slicked-back hair—definitely a Li relative. Not old enough for a father, probably an uncle.

“How do we find Li Shu? Anyone know his exact room?” Qi Huang asked, arms crossed.

Jiang Tianming shook his head: “Didn’t find out. Split up. Me, A-Bing, and Mingbai in one group; you three in another. If you find Li Shu, message the group.”

No one questioned, but he explained: “If we’re spotted, A-Bing and I can control them temporarily, and Mingbai can take us underground to escape. For you three, Su Bei’s got Invisibility Charms, and Qi Huang can fly to escape. Charms are safer, so Class Monitor’s with you.”

Honestly, I had a slight issue with the grouping. The trio was the original protagonist group, skewing screen time heavily toward them.

Not that I cared about screen time—as long as it was impactful, I was fine.

But this split meant our group’s impactful moments would be few. Li Shu and key info were likely on their route. I figured our half of the trip would be a side-quest—pointless.

For non-main-plot events, missing impactful moments was fine. I cared about popularity now but wouldn’t force it. One or two missed events wouldn’t tank my appeal.

What irked me was that side-quests weren’t even easy. The presence of Qi Huang and Mu Tieren, enhanced in prior plots but yet to shine, likely meant our side would face fight-heavy scenes.

No impactful moments, no easy slacking—hitting all my pet peeves.

But I had no grounds to refuse. Lowering my gaze, I planned my next move. Since Qi Huang’s group wasn’t ideal and I couldn’t join Jiang Tianming’s, I’d form my own.

As it was not our first mission—we split up smoothly, pushing the door open. I preemptively gave Qi Huang and Mu Tieren each an Invisibility Charm: “Ten minutes of invisibility. Use it at critical moments.”

After they pocketed the charms like treasures, I theatrically wiped my eyes and rubbed my fingers, gesturing for payment: “I’m bleeding cash for this show. How about some reimbursement?”

Qi Huang promised boldly: “If you’re really selling, I’ll buy all you’ve got.”

My Invisibility Charms were famously effective. No one knew where I got so many powerful ones, but their undetectability spoke volumes.

Qi Huang wasn’t short on cash. If I sold, it’d be all gain for her. Her family would love her to stock up.

“Keep dreaming,” I refused flat-out. Though nearly cost-free profit, these were among my few trump cards—gotta keep the mystique.

Mu Tieren chuckled: “Weren’t you just asking for payment? Now you won’t sell?”

My logic was clear, unfazed by his bait: “I just want to cover losses, not give up more.”

“You’re right,” Mu Tieren admitted his slip, switching topics: “Where to next?”

Good question. I glanced at the complex villa layout: “They’re going down; we go up. Check this villa, then others.”

Wu Mingbai mentioned underground facilities—likely where the Li family’s secrets were. Upstairs probably held nothing, and the author wouldn’t let us find Li Shu right away.

As expected, we found nothing after a loop, were nearly spotted by someone getting water at night, then left the villa.

Seeing the island up close differed from outside. It wasn’t bustling—no shops, no greenery, barely any streetlights.

But there were patrol teams—five per squad, in uniform, tirelessly patrolling fixed routes.

After observing their paths, we slipped out from the villa’s shadows.

“So heavily guarded—are they hiding something?” Qi Huang mocked, unaware her quip hit the truth.

Mu Tieren shook his head: “On a big island like this, patrols are normal, especially after what we did outside…”

Not wanting to dwell, he pointed at a lavish villa: “That one’s the fanciest. If Li Shu’s high-status, he might live there.”

“Maybe. Let’s check…” Qi Huang’s eyes widened mid-sentence.

Following her gaze, we saw fifty to sixty pink-haired kids, led by a man, streaming out of a house. The oldest were thirteen or fourteen, the youngest four or five—clearly Li family.

Qi Huang murmured, shocked: “Crazy! So many?”

We knew the Li family was fertile, but over fifty peers was insane! All pink-haired, their genes were dominant.

Maybe non-pink-haired kids weren’t on the island, meaning even more kids—making Qi Huang even more stunned.

Mu Tieren was equally shocked but focused elsewhere: “How’d so many come from one house? Space Ability?”

“Underground room, probably,” I said thoughtfully, eyeing the kids.

Learning of their fertility, I’d sensed something off. In a manga event, such a setting had purpose. Either the kids or the breeders had issues.

Either way, one approach: “Shall we check that house?”

Qi Huang and Mu Tieren agreed, eager to explore why so many kids visited this room at night.

Though decided, we didn’t move immediately, watching the pink-haired kids return to their rooms.

They were sent to a two-story building, shoddy like factory worker dorms. Unlike factory dorms with single rooms, this was a massive communal bunk, with all rooms connected.

In other words, shoddier than factory dorms.

Fifty-plus kids in a two-story bunk? Roughly thirty per floor, maybe without dividers.

Insane!

Single rooms for kids weren’t ideal, but this? Kids should live with parents. Even for centralized training, conditions could be better. The Li family wasn’t broke. Three stories for fifty wouldn’t shock us—this was too much.

Qi Huang frowned—she’d never lived in a tenement, let alone this: “Even big families don’t value many kids, but these living conditions…”

“Because it’s excessive,” I looked at Mu Tieren. “Your uncle makes tons of sentient parts, so he doesn’t value them, right?”

Mu Tieren nodded but countered: “Blood-related kids and artificial sentient parts aren’t the same.”

“Kind of are,” Qi Huang surprisingly sided with me. “Both sentient, both created by them—kids and parts are similar. They probably don’t see these kids as flesh and blood but replaceable items.”

I gave a better analogy: “Like an ant colony.”

“Yes!” Mu Tieren and Qi Huang nodded vigorously, finding my analogy spot-on.

If the Li family bred like this, it was like a queen ant. Kids were like worker ants—neglected, left to fend for themselves.

But Mu Tieren spotted a flaw: “Ants have low rearing costs, but human kids don’t. Raising them takes effort and resources. This rough upbringing—cramped living spaces, poor food, clothes, no education…”

He looked worriedly at the building: “Can kids here grow up normally?”