A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga
Chapter 145

Chapter 145

His thoughts aligned with Su Bei’s, but their approaches might differ. Su Bei said bluntly: “I’m ready to watch the show. Whatever you do, it’ll be interesting.”

Implying Wu Jin shouldn’t mind him—stay silent or warn, as he felt.

Understanding, Wu Jin fell silent, pondering his choice. Silence seemed unkind, but only Su Bei knew he knew, and Su Bei wouldn’t tell.

Su Bei was free that afternoon—his exam was done—so, lying in his dorm, he debated watching others’ tests.

Skipping would miss plot points—the manga’s next update would focus on the afternoon. But honestly, arena matches were individual highlights, and joining didn’t matter much.

The only notable moment was Zhou Renjie’s scheme, already foiled. If he tried again, it’d be during his exam, unwatchable and uninvolved.

So, he wouldn’t go. With a slacking excuse, Su Bei closed his eyes for a nap.

But reality defied plans. At 1:30, a knock came—none other than Jiang Tianming.

Let in, he cut to the chase: “Su Bei, didn’t you think Zhou Renjie was acting weird?”

Su Bei raised a brow, pouring him water, not answering.

Unfazed, Jiang Tianming continued: “You saw his oddity. Mingbai and I discussed—it’s likely the milk tea for Mo Xiaotian.”

Spot-on analysis. Su Bei nodded: “So, you’re here to confirm?”

“To verify my guess,” Jiang Tianming said. “You saw something, right?”

Su Bei didn’t confirm, ready to usher him out: “You’ve got exams. Prep.”

Sensing his intent, Jiang Tianming was surprised: “You’re not coming?”

“My test’s done—why go? I’m napping!” Su Bei stretched, pushing him out. “Go, don’t be late.”

“Wait, wait!” Jiang Tianming turned, raising a finger. “One more thing—the teacher announced something in class.”

“What?” Su Bei was shocked—leaving early, he’d missed news.

Jiang Tianming gloated: “Special track’s slots are set. You’re to go to his office before 2.”

Su Bei: “…”

“Haven’t they finished testing? How’re slots decided?” He was baffled.

Special track had many sign-ups. Even if quick like his, tests could take ten minutes. Many would, so it couldn’t end in a morning. Jiang Tianming, not in special track, didn’t know details but trusted Meng Huai: “If he said it, it’s fine. Get going—don’t be late.”

Su Bei: “…”

The boomerang stung. He coughed, following Jiang Tianming out.

On the way, Su Bei asked: “The other’s Li Shu, right? Why not call him?”

Jiang Tianming smirked: “Mingbai’s getting him.”

His expression said it all. Li Shu’s mild sarcasm to others turned obsessive with Jiang Tianming.

No wonder he avoided him.

At the teaching building, they parted. Su Bei reached Meng Huai’s office, finding him and the special track proctor.

The proctor, impressed by Su Bei, smiled: “Congrats, you’re a lock for the team.”

Expected, Su Bei nodded calmly, asking: “Haven’t they finished? Why results now?”

“Some F Class left to test—special track’s mostly F Class,” the proctor said, giving an unspoken look.

Su Bei got it—F Class had weak abilities, like his old [Gear] or Zhao Xiaoyu’s smile-inducing one.

Useful abilities went to other tracks, so F Class dominated special. After last semester’s sorting, no F Class dark horses emerged, making it hard to beat their scores. Results were set.

The proctor stood, telling Meng Huai: “I’ll resume proctoring. You tell them the rest.”

Li Shu arrived, learning he’d qualified. Unlike Su Bei, he wasn’t thrilled, lacking a drive to join, only competing to stay in S Class.

Meng Huai gestured them to chairs, reading from a script: “You’re here to confirm slots and sign a confidentiality agreement for the three-school competition’s success. It doesn’t restrict freedom—just…” He tossed the script: “Sign it. No leaking training or teammates’ abilities. All main and reserve players sign.”

He handed over two agreements. Su Bei skimmed—fine. But he didn’t sign, feigning curiosity: “Since we’re in, if we gave our slots to others, it’d still hold the slot, so no outsiders join S Class, right?”

Li Shu’s eyes lit up, learning fast. If Meng Huai agreed, it was a good plan.

But Meng Huai sneered: “Perfect. Newcomers won’t take others’ spots—you two pack and leave, make room.”

No choice. Su Bei pouted, signing. Li Shu, seeing staying in S Class meant competing, signed too.

Meng Huai mentioned another matter: “I’d tell the class, but since you’re here—school insists on balanced development, so the Student Council’s set a task representing the school for a partnership inspection, maybe a few days. Prep toiletries.”

Su Bei and Li Shu frowned. Li Shu, quick-witted, asked: “Teacher-led? Where? What partnership? Our role?”

“Details after the monthly exam in class,” Meng Huai brushed off, not wanting to repeat later.

Su Bei focused elsewhere: “Student Council task? Those not in it skip?”

“Dream on,” Meng Huai crushed his hope. “It’s a Student Council-S Class collaboration. Everyone goes.”

Su Bei didn’t plan to skip—it was a clear plot point. Missing it risked losing key moments.

After joking, he asked seriously: “All to one place?”

Meng Huai shook his head: “No, different partners, three locations. Groups are set, announced post-exam.”

Hearing set groups, Su Bei was fine, but Li Shu schemed: “Can we swap groups privately?”

Knowing his Jiang Tianming fixation, Meng Huai smirked, spitting two cold words: “No way.”

Done with these unserious kids, he waved them out.

Outside, Li Shu checked the time: “Wanna watch their exams? They’re starting.”

No escaping. Already in the building, it was close. Su Bei nodded helplessly, heading to the control track exam.

Upstairs, a crowd waited. Joining S Class, Jiang Tianming was surprised: “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming?”

Su Bei shrugged, citing a classic: “I’m here now.”

When he arrived, S Class' control track trio hadn’t started. Jiang Tianming and Mo Xiaotian looked relaxed, but Zhou Renjie, in a corner, bit his nails nervously, stealing glances at Mo Xiaotian.

His face was pale, movements stiff—Su Bei wasn’t sure if he imagined it. His head turned without shoulder movement.

Thinking, Su Bei called: “Zhou Renjie, your back’s got white wall dust.”

Zhou Renjie froze, about to pat his back, but stiffened, face changing. After a pause, he kept his pose: “…Can’t reach. Can you pat it?”

Confirmed. Su Bei raised a brow, patting heavily. Zhou Renjie held firm, unmoving.

Su Bei had a hunch—Zhou Renjie likely hid something in his stomach, explaining his caution.

In past fights, Zhou Renjie often couldn’t withstand stomach damage, forcing him to expel opponents.

Last semester, he trained to strengthen his stomach’s defenses, now near-impenetrable, allowing him to swallow dangerous items.

If he hid something, was it banned?

But Zhou Renjie, daring this, likely had a plan.

Jiang Tianming’s trio noticed too. Initially not obvious, Su Bei’s cue drew their eyes, spotting the oddity.

Like Su Bei, Jiang Tianming suspected something in Zhou Renjie’s stomach. He debated if it was banned—if so, he’d report it.

If not, reporting now would ruin Zhou Renjie’s plan, killing his winning odds.

Hesitating, Jiang Tianming stayed silent, planning to speak post-match. If Zhou Renjie cheated, his match wouldn’t count.

Wu Mingbai and Lan Subing, after discussing, stayed quiet, pretending ignorance. Issues would surface—no need to rush.

Since the control track’s key plot was Zhou Renjie versus Mo Xiaotian, Jiang Tianming went first. Su Bei felt this was truly a manga world—key plots always closed the show.

Soon, Jiang Tianming’s match came. Every opponent’s face was complex, Su Bei read “unfair!” in their expressions.

He grew curious about Jiang Tianming’s excuse.

Li Shu, long seeking why Jiang Tianming countered his [Illusion], was too. He sensed Jiang Tianming’s confidentiality secret might be the answer.

Realizing this, he relaxed. If correct, post-exam, with the team set, he’d learn Jiang Tianming’s secret.

The thought made him tremble with excitement.

Mo Xiaotian’s match was uneventful, using [Air] blocks to control positioning, aiding his team. He could isolate one opponent with an air wall, preventing participation.

This forced reduction shone, though limited to one for stability, still boosting his team’s odds.

But it paled against Zhou Renjie’s ability, which trapped opponents in his stomach, unable to affect the outside, only able to struggle within.

Mo Xiaotian’s air wall let isolated opponents use abilities externally, only countering close-range fighters.

Next was Zhou Renjie. His morning matches were normal, but afternoon ones weren’t—every opponent went to the infirmary, covered in scratches like rolling through blades.

The examiner and opponents, unaware of his ability, thought it normal. Su Bei’s group, knowing better, didn’t.

Zhou Renjie’s ability isolated one person. He’d developed a “stomach acid” function to harm those inside, but it caused skin corrosion, not scratches.

Though usually goofy, Mo Xiaotian was battle-sharp, noticing: “Whoa, new ability? How’d they get those wounds?”

“It’s a new ability I developed,” Zhou Renjie said unnaturally. “You’ll see when we fight. Don’t fish for intel.” Mo Xiaotian blinked, missing his guilt, eyes sparkling: “Got it! I’m pumped to fight you!”

Zhou Renjie: “…”

Speechless, he stayed silent.

Soon, Zhou Renjie versus Jiang Tianming’s match ended in two minutes.

Odd—even with multiple abilities, Jiang Tianming shouldn’t win a team battle that fast!

Zhou Renjie’s ability trapped him in the stomach, requiring effort to escape, and beating others should take over five minutes.

Wu Mingbai, puzzled, asked: “Why so fast?”

Jiang Tianming, confused too: “Zhou Renjie told me to show my stuff, then surrendered.”

Seeing their shock, Zhou Renjie, trailing, huffed: “He got a confidentiality agreement. That’s a lock for a slot. Why waste time on him?”

His angry face twisted, snarling: “You hid deep, huh? None of us knew you had that ability.”

He hadn’t expected Jiang Tianming’s multiple, almost distinct abilities!

With one ability, how could he face someone like Jiang Tianming?

“Not everyone was clueless,” Wu Mingbai said brightly. “We knew.”

Zhou Renjie rolled his eyes, glanced at Mo Xiaotian, and resumed nail-biting.

Surrendering to Jiang Tianming left one chance. Beating Mo Xiaotian meant a slot; losing meant none.

Time passed, reaching Jiang Tianming versus Mo Xiaotian. Jiang Tianming won—multiple abilities gave a huge edge when abilities weren’t overwhelmingly dominant, catching foes off-guard with combos.

Mo Xiaotian, unfazed by the loss, excitedly pestered Jiang Tianming like a fanboy.

Li Shu trailed, hoping for clues from Mo Xiaotian’s loose lips. But despite many questions, nothing was clear.

Li Shu’s eager pink eyes dulled after listening fruitlessly.

Soon, Si Zhaohua’s group arrived. Jiang Tianming was surprised: “All done?”

Si Zhaohua nodded: “Just one-on-one, so it’s faster.”

Solo fights were quicker than team battles, which is why most went to Si Zhaohua’s group first.

“Who won?” Lan Subing asked, eyes darting between Qi Huang and Mu Tieren.

Of the four attack-trackers, Si Zhaohua was guaranteed, Ling You didn’t compete, leaving Qi Huang or Mu Tieren.

Wu Mingbai recalled Zhao Xiaoyu’s news: “Not that Class B, right?”

“I won,” Qi Huang said, chin up proudly.

Mu Tieren, beside her, smiled wryly, admitting: “Qi Huang’s strong. Without closing in, I had no chance.”

Her flight made her a ranged attacker, dominant against close-combat specialists like Mu Tieren.