A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga
Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Her words stunned everyone. An item that could awaken Abilities in ordinary people was unprecedented. If, in the future, all ordinary people could awaken Abilities, the world would change drastically.

I finally understood why this auction invited so many ordinary people. For other events, inviting them made sense, but why so many at an Ability users’ auction?

Ability items were more effective in Ability users’ hands, and many required Mental Energy to activate. Ordinary people had little room to shine here. Plus, without an Ability license, using Ability items was a hassle for them.

But if the finale item could turn ordinary people into Ability users, it was undeniably attractive. Whether for themselves or their children, it held immense value.

Knowing this, I relaxed a bit. With such an item, the enemy was likely after the auction items, not the guests. As someone escorting VIPs, I should be safe.

After all, even Black Flash wouldn’t be so bold as to target both the items and the guests. Greed leads to failure—trying for everything could backfire.

I’d been too involved in past plot points. This time, I wanted to slack off.

“By the way, Xiaotian, nothing unusual happened during your patrol, right?” Lan Subing asked quietly. “If something goes wrong at an auction like this… I can’t even imagine.”

Though hosted by three Academies, a mishap wouldn’t solely blame one, but it’d shame the entire Ability world. No one could stay uninvolved.

Mo Xiaotian shook his head cluelessly. Before he could speak, Mu Tieren, also on patrol, frowned: “Something’s probably wrong. Most of the teachers patrolling with us are gone now.”

“Huh? Really?” Mo Xiaotian looked surprised, then recalled, even more shocked: “You’re right!”

Lan Subing was speechless, regretting asking Mo Xiaotian. Her brain must’ve been broken.

Wu Mingbai, with a sunny fake smile, said: “Mo Xiaotian, hush. Class Monitor, did you ask where the teachers went?”

The former Class F students were used to calling Mu Tieren Class Monitor. Since Class S hadn’t elected a new one, it was fine.

Mu Tieren shook his head: “I asked the last teacher who left. He just told us to patrol well, not go alone, and not stray too far. He had something to handle.”

Everyone understood instantly. Qi Huang muttered: “Looks like tonight won’t be peaceful…”

At that, Jiang Tianming, Wu Mingbai, and Mu Tieren turned to me in unison. They clearly remembered I’d said something similar while touring the school.

I knew why they were staring. Shrugging helplessly, I said: “With these items, it’d be a miracle if tonight was peaceful.”

It wasn’t wrong. If I were a villain, I’d covet this auction too. Stealing one item would be a fortune. It wasn’t just Black Flash—other minor villain groups were probably fishing in troubled waters.

The break was short, and the second half soon began. Heavier items were readied backstage for display.

If trouble was coming, it’d be now.

Sure enough, despite the three Academies’ tight security, something went wrong backstage. Someone screamed: “It’s gone!”

The guests in the front erupted in chaos.

What else could “gone” mean from backstage? The auction items were missing!

This was a major incident. They’d traveled far for those items. A backstage breach also meant the venue wasn’t safe, so no one could stay calm.

But chaos breeds errors. In the tense moment, with a “snap,” the auction’s lights went out.

Power outage.

At the same time, I heard Manga Consciousness in my ear: “King of Abilities has updated. Please check.”

An update now? Readers would riot! I was stunned, barely starting to complain internally when Manga Consciousness continued.

“Over 80% of readers now believe you’re backed by an intelligence organization. You can choose to go back and form it yourself or let me arrange it, with you handling key steps.”

I was overjoyed. I’d thought it’d take longer to cement this impression, but it was ready now?

It must’ve been forum microscope readers revisiting the manga due to my post, spotting my foreshadowing, and spreading it, convincing others.

“Let’s talk later,” I said, thrilled but aware the situation wasn’t right for this. I refocused on the scene.

To prevent outside spying, the windows were covered with thick curtains. With the lights out, the hall was pitch-black, impossible to see.

I expected a frantic stampede, but no—hardly anyone stood. Uncle Liu’s voice, weak, said: “So sleepy… Why am I so sleepy?”

Then he slumped onto the small table attached to his chair.

Others echoed similar words, falling asleep.

It was the water!

Realizing this, I pretended to be drowsy, slumping comfortably and pulling my black hoodie’s hood up to hide my golden hair.

Running was out of the question. If they’d plunged the hall into total darkness, they likely had night vision. With all guests unconscious, standing to run would make me a target.

As I lay there, I assessed my situation. With everyone out, someone was targeting the politicians.

The backstage scream… a diversion? Or was Black Flash bold enough to grab both politicians and items?

As an Academy student, I figured they’d ignore me when taking the unconscious politicians. But they might kill a future threat like me, an enemy in their eyes.

The former was fine, but the latter was trouble. Luckily, the latter was unlikely. Invading a three-Academy auction suggested clear goals and strict discipline—they wouldn’t act recklessly.

I wondered how Jiang Tianming and the others would get involved, but I likely wouldn’t participate. Fine by me. Missing a chance to change things was offset by staying fresh. Participation had pros and cons; I could accept either.

As I thought, my Mental Energy sensed someone appear at the leftmost front-row seat, slowly approaching. Each time they touched someone, that person vanished.

The front, middle, and back rows, including mine, held ordinary politicians. This person was behind the mass fainting, now abducting them.

I grew wary, checking my Destiny Gear’s pointers. Good news: both large and small pointers were in the right direction. The small one was centered, but I felt reassured.

The man moved fast, soon reaching my row. His fluid actions paused before me, hesitating, then he raised a hand.

My heart raced. Before I could react, the world spun.

That feeling was familiar—Lei Ze’en’s teleportation arrays felt the same. They were taking me.

But why? Taking politicians was one thing, but a random student?

In my last second of consciousness, it hit me—they must’ve mistaken me for a guest!

When I opened my eyes, I was jolted awake. I seemed to be in a shoddy vehicle on a muddy road, bouncing along.

Discreetly probing with Mental Energy, I confirmed I was in a truck’s cargo hold. Besides me, about a dozen others were crammed in.

All but me were unconscious, which made sense. Ability users had better constitutions, and I hadn’t been drugged, so I woke faster.

Sensing Uncle Liu beside me, I figured the others were likely abducted politicians.

I kept my eyes shut. Who knew if someone was watching? Being the first to wake, and a kid, would scream “Ability user.”

I’d wait for others to wake. They probably wouldn’t sleep until the destination, but if they did, I definitely shouldn’t open my eyes now.

Soon, others stirred. Once over half were awake, I opened my eyes to look around.

As expected, I recognized some faces. It was almost funny—high-and-mighty politicians now caged like prisoners in this tiny hold, destination unknown.

Noticing movement, a few awake ones glanced my way. Seeing a boy, they lost interest.

But a kind woman in a business suit asked with concern: “Whose kid are you? Damn it! They even took a child!”

I rubbed my eyes, quickly activating the Transformation Mask (Fake) from the Academy’s store, changing my appearance to a plain, youthful look and shrinking my height.

In the dim hold, with little light, no one should’ve noticed my original look. I also turned my hair under the hood to an unremarkable brown, making me a generic 10-year-old boy.

I made myself much younger because a younger kid lowered others’ guards. Fifteen was too old, and my situation offered little advantage.

After, I lowered my hands, feigning confusion: “I came with my dad. I felt super sleepy and passed out… Did someone kidnap us?”

My story was solid. The woman sighed: “These Ability Academies aren’t reliable. Is your dad here?”

I shook my head, adding: “He went to the bathroom and didn’t come back.”

With the auction’s long duration and short break, many hadn’t returned from the restroom. I’d noticed this, so I dared say it.

As expected, she didn’t suspect: “Then he probably wasn’t taken. That’s good. Trust he’ll come save you.”

Before I could respond, a man in a suit scoffed: “He looks almost ten, not four or five. No need to treat him like an idiot. He can tell he’s been kidnapped.”

Noticing my gaze, he said irritably: “What? We’re obviously taken by Ability users. Your dad’s an ordinary guy—how could he…”

He paused, eyes glinting: “Kid, tell uncle, is your dad ordinary or an Ability user?”

Others looked over. If I had an Ability user relative, it’d be useful—not as bait, but valuable info.

Sadly, I looked dejected: “Ordinary. But he said after the auction, he might become an Ability user!”

That hit hard. They lost interest. He was likely here for the finale item, so ordinary.

Me lying to make them think my dad was ordinary? Come on, a ten-year-old scheming that much? Could he even think that far?

The man who’d asked kicked the wall in frustration: “They’re Ability users, yet we got taken so easily. When I get back, I’ll report this to show how incompetent they are!”

The woman sighed: “The ones who took us are Ability users too. I just hope the Academy’s stronger. We ordinary folks have no way to protect ourselves.”

As she spoke, I lowered my head, eyeing her pant pocket. The fabric bulged in a coin-sized circle.

From experience, it was likely a handgun.

As an Academy worker, I knew they hadn’t banned guests from carrying weapons. Ordinary people were at a disadvantage against Ability users, and weapons eased their minds.

But with the country’s gun ban, few could get one. I was surprised this kind woman had a gun.

As we spoke, Uncle Liu woke. Rubbing his temples, he looked around: “Where are we?”

A grown man and a politician qualified for this auction, he wasn’t dumb. He quickly realized: “Who kidnapped us?”

Seeing me, he exclaimed: “They even took a kid?”

That struck a chord with the woman. She clapped: “Exactly! Taking us is one thing, but a kid? What’s the point?”

As they chatted, others ignored them, discussing escape or what leverage could free them.

I glanced at everyone’s Destiny Gears. Some large pointers were good, some bad—slightly right but upward. Others were downward, likely fatal if unchanged.

I sighed inwardly. I wasn’t kind enough to waste Mental Energy turning large pointers upward. Small ones were easy, but a large one could drain half my Mental Energy.

Probing outside, it was a desolate road with overgrown weeds. The truck’s destination was unclear.

Finding no clues outside, I directed my Mental Energy to the driver’s cab. Three people were there—one woman, two men, none looking strong.

But Ability user strength didn’t depend on physique. If three dared escort over a dozen of us, they were confident in their control.

Wait, was I really separated from the others? Was I the only one taken?

I didn’t mind plot-driven trouble—it got me manga exposure. But if this wasn’t a plot point, I had zero interest.

No doubt, if only I was taken, the author wouldn’t draw this.

It shouldn’t be. I relaxed slightly. The truck held about a dozen, but as a greeter, I knew 34 ordinary people were invited. Even with some in the restroom, it wouldn’t be just this few.

Likely, others were on another vehicle, and we’d end up together.

With that, I closed my eyes, deciding not to cause trouble en route. I had unfinished business: “‘Manga Consciousness,’ you there? Tell me about the intelligence organization.”

Manga Consciousness was there: “Since you’ve convinced readers you’re backed by an intelligence organization, I can create one within reasonable limits per your request. You could form it yourself, but I don’t recommend it. Going back, you’d revert to your past self.”

Forget whether I had the means to build an intelligence organization from scratch—at five, six, or eight, no one would take me seriously.

I had no intention of making it hard on myself. I didn’t think I, with no experience, could craft an organization. Why not let someone else handle it?

I’d thought about the organization for a long time, so I stated my plan without hesitation: “I want it established five years ago, after February 23.”

That was when my father died.

“It’s for trading intelligence. Members post tasks with points. Points can be exchanged for money or others’ intelligence. Members don’t know each other and use the stationery set I bought today to pass info.”

I’d considered finding an Ability user for intelligence transfer, but today’s items gave me a new idea.

With the items ready, Manga Consciousness had no objections: “Fine. I can replicate those items. You…”

“Wait!” I interrupted. “Can you have someone send one notebook to the seller’s pen pal, and have others sell the pen and eraser to the seller?”

If possible, the items’ ownership would form a closed loop. The seller sold them to me, and I’d sell them back in the past.

It seemed pointless, but it made the items truly mine, reducing risks.

“Sure, no problem,” Manga Consciousness agreed. “I’ll recruit the items’ creator or imitator into the organization.”

Satisfied, I pushed further: “I need members everywhere—several Ability Academies, Black Flash and other notable organizations, the Ability Government, and human government. Ideally, some big shots I met today are in it.”

It was a bit much, but negotiations start high to raise the floor.

As expected, Manga Consciousness rejected it: “Why not say the president’s one of yours? Be realistic. For them to trade intelligence, what can you offer?”