A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga

Chapter 35

“Are you serious?”

Everyone looked baffled. Even Lan Subing, overcoming her social anxiety, spoke up: “How would she use it? To make the loser give a dignified concession speech?”

The queen of snark was back! (×)

Jiang Tianming glanced at the two on the arena, then at me, full of doubt: “Is this something your ability told you?”

“Just keep watching.” I didn’t elaborate. Truth be told, I hadn’t figured out how [Laughter] could help Zhao Xiaoyu win.

Manga Consciousness was equally stumped but more baffled by: “How dare you say that? Even I only know Zhao Xiaoyu will win. How can you be sure she’ll use her ability to win?”

“Just a reasonable guess.” Having bet big before, this small gamble didn’t faze me. I sounded nonchalant: “She wants to be a strong ability user, so she won’t give up using her ability in combat.”

Zhao Xiaoyu’s desire to become a strong ability user was undeniable. From how she hid her ability’s details during introductions, her focus in class, and her emphasis on the monthly exam, it was clear.

In this world, all strong ability users had to develop attack methods with their abilities. They constantly faced Nightmare Beast threats. Without sufficient attack methods, the stronger you were, the faster you’d die.

Even the [Detective] ability user from before could use their ability in combat to quickly find an enemy’s weakness.

So, as I’d said, since Zhao Xiaoyu aimed to be a strong ability user, she wouldn’t abandon making her ability work in combat.

This monthly exam was a perfect chance to show how far she’d developed her ability’s attack potential.

Understanding my point, Manga Consciousness immediately approved of my move. Zhao Xiaoyu was indeed likely to use her ability in the arena, even if we couldn’t figure out how.

Plus, this was a small bet with an easy fix. If Zhao Xiaoyu didn’t use her ability, I wouldn’t lose my persona, since I hadn’t claimed it was my ability’s judgment.

Afterward, I could act disappointed, share the reasoning I’d given Manga Consciousness, and say Zhao Xiaoyu wasn’t as smart as I’d thought.

A simple explanation would clear any misstep.

On the arena, the two were already tangled in a fight. Both were Class F—everyone knew each other. Even if they didn’t know their abilities, they knew combat relied on raw strength, not abilities. They went straight to close-quarters brawling.

Clearly, neither was trained. Despite Meng Huai’s drills, they’d only improved physical fitness, not combat skills.

So it was a total rookie slugfest.

At first, they held back, being classmates who’d still see each other after. They traded light blows while urging surrender. But gradually, tempers flared, and they started hitting hard, fists and kicks flying.

Li Qian was tall, giving him an edge in this brawl. Though Zhao Xiaoyu, at 1.6 meters, wasn’t short, she was steadily pushed back.

Her retreat wasn’t as frantic as Wu Jin’s, but anyone could see she was being forced toward the arena’s edge.

In this state, forget using her ability—she’d struggle to win at all. Jiang Tianming sneaked a glance at me but said nothing. After the Wu Jin lesson, he wouldn’t assume I was wrong until the referee called it.

I stayed calm. Wu Jin’s win meant Zhao Xiaoyu would definitely win, so I wasn’t worried.

After some grappling, Zhao Xiaoyu was finally cornered at the arena’s edge.

For some reason, Jiang Tianming felt this scene looked familiar. Then it hit him—hadn’t Wu Jin been cornered like this too?

Was a reversal coming?

He perked up, watching closely. The others realized it too, all focusing intently.

Sure enough, Zhao Xiaoyu suddenly spoke with conviction: “You’re definitely going to lose.”

Li Qian looked confused: “What are you saying… hahahahaha!”

Before he finished, he burst into uncontrollable laughter, his eyes showing a hint of bewilderment.

Everyone knew laughter drained physical strength. Zhao Xiaoyu seized the moment, pushing hard and flipping Li Qian off the arena.

She won!

“It’s [Laughter]!” Mo Xiaotian’s eyes widened. “The timing of that ability was perfect!”

The turn was so fast that even Mu Tieren was stunned for a moment before turning to me in surprise: “She really won with her ability.”

I curled my lips, saying nothing. If Zhao Xiaoyu hadn’t used her ability, I’d have shared my reasoning. But since she did, I’d keep my mystique.

Seeing my expression, everyone started speculating about my ability again.

“[Laughter] can make someone laugh like that. I wonder how long it lasts. If it’s long, it could do decent damage,” Mu Tieren mused, feeling Class F was full of hidden talents.

Wu Mingbai shook his head: “At least for now, it’s definitely short. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have waited until the end to use it.”

Only two hadn’t competed yet: Lan Subing and Jiang Tianming. Jiang Tianming looked at Lan Subing: “Can you use your ability later?”

Lan Subing’s ability, [Word Spirit], could make a newbie ability user “walk off the arena” with ease. Even a Class A couldn’t break her control, though it’d drain more of her mental energy.

But her severe social anxiety made it nearly impossible to speak to strangers, which was why she was in Class F. An unusable ability, no matter how strong, was useless.

“I don’t know,” Lan Subing said honestly, worried herself. “If I’m matched with a Class F classmate, it’s fine. But if it’s another class…”

She was deeply unwilling. Losing to superior skill was one thing—she could accept that, even if the opponent cheated. But failing because of her psychological issue, unable to use her ability, was something no one could accept.

Wu Mingbai sighed: “Honestly, you should develop a way to release your ability through phone recordings.”

Lan Subing gave a wry smile: “You think I haven’t tried? I don’t have that ability yet.”

Since learning the exam included individual battles, she’d been brainstorming. She’d hoped to speak by looking at Jiang Tianming and the others from the arena.

But after today’s matches, she knew you couldn’t see the audience from the arena, so cheating was out.

Her brain was fried.

“How about bringing our photos up? Looking at them might help you speak,” Jiang Tianming suggested, the most reasonable idea he could think of.

Lan Subing’s eyes lit up: “Worth a try!”

Weapons weren’t allowed on the arena, but a photo was fine. Jiang Tianming and Wu Mingbai ran back to the dorms, each grabbing a one-inch photo for her. They were her closest friends, making their photos ideal.

With the two photos, Lan Subing gratefully hugged them both, then nervously took the stage.

As soon as she stepped up, she pulled out the photos, trying to use [Word Spirit] to send her opponent off the arena.

But sadly, staring at the cold photos, her lips felt glued shut, unable to part. Her throat seemed blocked, unable to make a sound.

Her opponent, a Class D student, had a mostly useless ability. Seeing the blue-haired beauty pull out two photos, he jumped, thinking it was some ability.

When nothing happened after a while, he cautiously approached.

Noticing his movement, Lan Subing quickly retreated. Her combat skills were weak—she’d likely be tossed off easily if it came to blows. As Wu Mingbai said, she was a pure mage.

Seeing her retreat, her opponent’s heart leaped. He grinned, thinking: This Class F girl was just bluffing. I’ll toss her off… but first, I’ll get her contact info.

With that, he strode forward to act.

Thankfully, though Lan Subing couldn’t speak, her social anxiety didn’t hinder physical movement. Seeing him attack, she ran, not planning to resist.

Thanks to Meng Huai’s weeks of training, Class F students excelled at running, if nothing else. The boy chased for ages but couldn’t catch her, exhausting himself.

“How are you so fast?” He panted, standing still: “Stop running. You can’t beat me anyway. Just step off the arena.”

Lan Subing relaxed a bit. She realized he couldn’t catch her and seemed less fit than her. What was there to worry about? She’d just stall!

Hearing his words, she thought he was dreaming and couldn’t help retorting: “Why don’t you…”

Halfway through, she realized she could speak and seized the chance, switching to: “[Walk off the arena].”

“I’m not… huh? What’s happening?” The next second, the boy found his body moving on its own, his legs carrying him toward the arena’s stairs as if they had a mind of their own.

“Wait, what’s going on!” He shouted, helplessly forced off the arena.

Lan Subing stood alone on the stage, dazed.

Below, watching this series of events, everyone was stunned. No one expected Lan Subing to overcome her social anxiety and use her ability in this situation.

I murmured: “Is this the outburst of a snark queen?”

Lan Subing hadn’t recovered, walking down in a daze. Looking at Jiang Tianming and the others, she pointed at herself: “I won?”

“You won,” Jiang Tianming confirmed.

Seeing she was still processing, Wu Mingbai slung an arm around her shoulder, grinning: “Not bad, you! You managed to speak to a stranger!”

The vibe among the three felt like a wall, the bond of a protagonist group that’d been through a whole manga season. No one would intrude at this moment.

Except Mo Xiaotian, who didn’t read the room.

He rushed over, joining the protagonist group’s hug: “Little Blue, you’re amazing! [Word Spirit] is so strong! After this exam, you’ll probably move to Class A, right?”

Lan Subing couldn’t help but chuckle, her mind finally clearing. After calming down, she reflected and felt it wasn’t that simple.

Hearing Mo Xiaotian, she shook her head honestly: “Not necessarily. I haven’t fully overcome my social anxiety.”

Just saying that made her want to hide her face with her scarf. She typed the rest:

—“I think I could speak to a stranger because, first, my urge to snark was unstoppable—I really wanted to retort. But the second, more critical reason was that I felt I could beat him even without [Word Spirit]. Realizing that made me relaxed, so I could speak.”

A glint of admiration flashed in my eyes. As expected of a protagonist group known for high IQ, Lan Subing analyzed her situation so clearly in just two minutes from stepping off to typing. Truly sharp.

Though I hadn’t read the later manga plot, it was obvious her social anxiety wouldn’t be cured so easily.

As she said, her ability to use [Word Spirit] on a stranger was due to the relaxed confidence of certain victory letting her snark shine.

But against a slightly stronger opponent, her mindset wouldn’t be so relaxed, and her social anxiety wouldn’t ease.

Her self-analysis made everyone realize it wasn’t over so simply. Mu Tieren suddenly asked: “Subing, didn’t you say you saw a psychologist, but it didn’t help? Have you considered an ability-based psychologist?”

That was a good idea. Previously, as her family were all ordinary people, despite their wealth, Lan Subing’s parents couldn’t hire top-tier ability users due to lack of connections.

But now that Lan Subing was an ability user, she could ask the school’s teachers for recommendations.

Before she could respond, Jiang Tianming shook his head: “I doubt it’d help. Our teacher clearly wants to help you overcome your social anxiety. If he hasn’t mentioned an ability-based psychologist, it’s probably because they can’t cure you.”

That made sense. Mu Tieren recalled the first day when Meng Huai forced Lan Subing to introduce herself. He frowned: “How about I ask the teacher? My match is done today.”

“Thanks,” Lan Subing said gratefully. This wasn’t part of the Class Monitor’s duties—Mu Tieren was helping because they were friends.

At that moment, the boy Lan Subing defeated walked over, crestfallen: “What’s your ability? How’d you end up in Class F?”

He wasn’t dumb and knew an ability that could control someone wasn’t simple. Such an ability in Class F was a joke.

“It’s [Word Spirit]. I have severe social anxiety, so I can’t speak to use it, which is why I’m in Class F.” Seeing him approach, Lan Subing stepped back cautiously, quickly typing her response.

The boy scratched his head, suddenly brightening: “So, you speaking to me means…”—you’re interested in me?

Before he finished, Lan Subing’s phone blared the mechanical female voice again: “Because I could probably beat you easily without my ability, I was unexpectedly less anxious. Thanks!”

The boy: “…”

Watching him cover his face and run off crying, Lan Subing turned, puzzled: “Why’d he run off crying? Was he too upset from losing to me?”

Wu Mingbai flashed a sunny smile, giving her a firm thumbs-up: “Exactly!”

Now only Jiang Tianming hadn’t competed. I was eager for his match, curious if he’d use his ability.

The manga, up to now, had only shown him seemingly using it passively during the first day’s run. He hadn’t used it since. If he used that ability to summon the dead, would it raise suspicion?

His summoned dead seemed tied to him personally. I even boldly guessed they were people he’d killed himself.

Wu Mingbai, well-versed in human flaws, clearly thought using his ability might harm Jiang Tianming’s image. As his turn approached, he leaned in, whispering: “Be careful with that ability.”

Jiang Tianming nodded, showing he understood, then walked onto the arena.

His opponent was a Class C student with the ability [Hair Strand], allowing attacks with hair. This ability, functioning as a built-in weapon for both ranged and close combat, was potent in arena matches—one of the top abilities I’d marked to avoid in the first two days.

Jiang Tianming was indeed, as he’d said, the unluckiest living person this term, with me as a close second.

The Class C girl had clearly investigated Jiang Tianming beforehand. Though she couldn’t find out his ability, what good ability could a Class F student have?

So when I stepped up, she said bluntly: “Just forfeit. My ability is [Hair Strand]. Before you even get close, I can bind you and toss you off with my ability.”

The saying “the more you say, the more you err” applied everywhere. Hearing her warning, Jiang Tianming sharply caught a flaw: “If you can toss me off directly, why bother saying all this?”

Indeed, with only one match today, even burning all her mental energy, she’d recover by tomorrow. If she could easily use her hair to throw Jiang Tianming off, she wouldn’t waste words—she’d end it.

The Class C girl choked on his words, realizing her ploy was exposed. She coughed awkwardly, said no more, and strode toward Jiang Tianming.

She couldn’t directly toss opponents off with her hair—her mental energy wasn’t there yet. If she could, she’d be in Class B, not Class C.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t handle Jiang Tianming. In her eyes, dealing with a Class F student was easy. She’d only bluffed to save effort.

Since the bluff failed, she’d rely on raw strength.

Seeing her approach, Jiang Tianming retreated, planning to mimic Lan Subing’s strategy of running to exhaust her stamina. But after a few steps, he realized this wouldn’t work.

The Class C girl couldn’t toss him off with her hair, but extending it a meter was effortless. She could also control its hardness, shape, and movement.

That extra meter made it impossible for Jiang Tianming to keep distance and easy for her to grab him. The arena was small—you couldn’t just run endlessly like in the wild.

Seeing the hair strands glinting darkly, like long needles aiming for his neck, Jiang Tianming knew if they touched, the referee would declare his loss.

That wouldn’t do.

He gritted his teeth, crouching and turning to shake off the hair temporarily. But the Class C girl wasn’t to be underestimated—she swiftly adjusted the hair to follow his turn.

Arena matches indeed showcased students’ progress since the term began. This girl had clearly been diligently training her ability.

But Jiang Tianming knew if he used his ability, he could easily beat her. The problem, as Wu Mingbai warned, was that using it publicly might expose his secret if someone noticed something off.

He needed a subtler method.

Thinking this, his gaze landed on the arena’s edge, and his eyes lit up. Mustering his remaining strength, he sprinted toward the edge.

The Class C girl, nearly catching him, was pulled back by his burst. She frowned, growing anxious. How was this guy so fast? Though she grumbled inwardly, she quickly directed her hair to follow.

She knew he could only hold out a bit longer. Maintaining the status quo, she’d catch him eventually. With that thought, she relaxed.

Meanwhile, Jiang Tianming, nearing the edge, crouched just before stepping off. An unprepared pursuer might overshoot and fall due to this move.

But the Class C girl wasn’t unprepared. Too many had fallen to this trick today—she wouldn’t be fooled!

Seeing the space ahead clear, she immediately tried to stop. But before she could, her clothes seemed to be gently tugged forward.

That tug was the final straw, sending her tumbling over Jiang Tianming’s back under her unresolved momentum, straight off the arena.

Jiang Tianming won!

Like Lan Subing’s win, everyone was stunned. He won? Just like that?

From what we saw, Jiang Tianming ran to the edge, crouched, and the Class C girl, unable to stop her charge, fell off.

No ability used?

I glanced at Jiang Tianming, calm as if he’d expected this. Then at the Class C girl, still in her fallen pose, looking confused. I smiled meaningfully.

Probably not.

After Jiang Tianming stepped down and the referee announced the result, the Class C girl finally seemed to snap out of it. She stood, marching to Jiang Tianming: “Hey! What’s your ability? Did you use it to pull me just now?”

I raised an eyebrow. I knew Jiang Tianming had used his ability—just didn’t expect he’d hide it so well, unnoticed by anyone except the unlucky opponent.

“Didn’t you just overshoot?” Jiang Tianming looked innocent, his black eyes full of confusion, as if he genuinely knew nothing.

Only Wu Mingbai, who knew him well, snickered to Lan Subing: “Tianming’s faking it so well.”

Lan Subing could tell her friend was pretending but chose to indulge him: “No way, doesn’t it look real?”

The Class C girl, unfamiliar with Jiang Tianming, didn’t see through his act. She frowned, seeing his apparent cluelessness, and started to doubt herself.

In truth, she wasn’t sure someone had pulled her. She’d only vaguely felt it. But given the situation, even if she’d anticipated his trick, failing to stop her momentum was reasonable. And there was no one in front of her.

Had she really misjudged? Was it just a mistake that cost her the match?

Thinking this, she stomped in frustration, glaring at Jiang Tianming: “You got lucky this time. In team battles, you’d better pray you don’t face me!”

She stormed off angrily.

Jiang Tianming blinked, flashing us a smile: “Shall we go eat now?”

It was 5 p.m., and the arena matches weren’t done—likely running until 6 or 7. Though hungry, Wu Mingbai shook his head, nodding toward a direction: “Let’s watch his match first.”

We turned and saw Si Zhaohua in the central sports field, elegantly rolling up his sleeves as he stepped onto the arena.

Below his arena stood his teammates. It was clear that, except for Baozhu, genuinely worried for him, the others weren’t concerned at all.

I glanced at Si Zhaohua’s opponent and asked Mo Xiaotian: “Is that short guy facing Si Zhaohua also from Class A?”

Mo Xiaotian remembered his classmates and nodded: “Yeah, his ability’s something like [Laser]. He showed us his electric eyes in class.”

He lit up, mimicking with wide eyes: “That skill’s so cool, like in movies! Zzzt zzzt zzzt—”

“Do you know Si Zhaohua’s team’s abilities?” I meant the three Class A students.

“Fatty Zhou’s ability is defense-related. He said no one in class except Si Zhaohua can break it. I don’t know Baozhu or Si Zhaohua’s abilities—they’ve never used them. But Si Zhaohua’s is probably attack-based.” Mo Xiaotian shared all he knew.

I nodded, heading toward the central arena: “Then let’s see Si Zhaohua’s ability now. Without using it, he probably can’t handle that [Laser] guy.”

The others agreed, following me. Onstage, the short boy’s expression was grave, his hands and eyes glowing faintly: “Come on, Si Zhaohua. Show me what your ability is!”

With that, two laser beams shot from his left eye and right hand, attacking Si Zhaohua from above and below. Under such an assault, dodging was nearly impossible, especially since the hand laser could track.

But no one expected what happened next. Si Zhaohua’s school uniform tore at the back, and a pair of massive white wings extended, instantly wrapping around him tightly, blocking the laser attack. They looked holy and noble.

“Holy crap! Is this fair?” Even Wu Mingbai couldn’t hold back a curse at the sight.

Our entire team, including me, stood frozen, staring dumbfounded at the stunning scene.

After a moment, Lan Subing murmured: “Is it my imagination, or is this match’s art style completely different from ours?”

I glanced at her, saying to Manga Consciousness inwardly: “I think she’s got potential to break the dimensional wall too.”

After a quick quip, I refocused on the match. I had to admit Lan Subing was right. Compared to our small-time scuffles, this arena was a true ability user battle.

Honestly, could our ragtag bunch really beat Si Zhaohua’s team?

No matter how shocked we were, the match continued. Seeing he couldn’t breach Si Zhaohua’s defense, the short boy stopped wasting mental energy and retracted his laser.

Sensing the attack cease, Si Zhaohua unfurled his wings, half-folded behind him, revealing his unscathed body.

The short boy’s expression was complex, his face slightly pale from his earlier exertion: “So that’s your ability? [Angel]. Impressive. No wonder the teacher made you class leader.”

After catching his breath, he continued: “I’m unlucky facing you this round. But I heard [Angel] abilities come with a super attack skill, ‘Judgment.’ Can you show me?”

Si Zhaohua raised an eyebrow slightly: “I might not be able to use it.”

Misunderstanding him to mean his mental energy might not suffice, the short boy shrugged: “Give it a try. Maybe it’ll work?”

Seeing his insistence, Si Zhaohua didn’t argue, nodding politely. The next second, his wings fully spread, flapping twice, lifting him into the air.

His expression was cold, looking down on the masses. As he raised his hand, it seemed to block the sun’s light: “Then, ‘Holy Judgment’—”

As his voice rang out, a small patch of sky above the arena darkened. Nearby pebbles and leaves rose without wind, the entire arena space seeming on the verge of a storm.

Before his hand could descend, the referee rushed in: “Si Zhaohua wins! Stop the skill now!”

Only then did the short boy realize what Si Zhaohua meant. “Might not be able to use it” wasn’t about mental energy but because the attack was too strong, prompting referee intervention.

Understanding this, the boy gave a wry smile, said nothing, and stepped off the arena.

Seeing him leave, Si Zhaohua retracted his wings, bowing elegantly to the referee before descending. As he did, he glanced briefly at Jiang Tianming and us, then looked away without lingering, returning to his team.

Baozhu’s delicate face lit up with a proud smile: “So awesome, Young Master Si! As expected! But why’d you use ‘Judgment’? That’s…”

Before she finished, Fatty Zhou interrupted, equally awestruck, face flushed with excitement: “Young Master Si crushed Class A! You should be in Class S! The school’s blind.”

Si Zhaohua frowned, saying flatly: “Class S hasn’t started forming. Don’t talk nonsense.”

Hearing that, we pricked up our ears. So Class S hadn’t been formed yet—no wonder there was no news.

Jiang Tianming suddenly recalled my earlier words—“Why rush?”

Was that what I meant? Class S wasn’t formed, so no need to hurry.

Noticing our attention, Fatty Zhou didn’t want us getting extra info. He raised his voice, dripping with sarcasm: “My mistake. You’ll definitely get in. Some people, though, couldn’t catch up even on horseback.”

Si Zhaohua gave no reaction to his words, as if he hadn’t heard, and turned to leave. He didn’t glance at Jiang Tianming or us once.

This dismissal felt worse than a fight. Jiang Tianming pursed his lips: “Let’s go eat.”

This time, no one objected. We went to eat in silence, each lost in thought.

I didn’t know or care what the others were thinking. I was wondering if Si Zhaohua’s ability, so strong with both offense and defense plus a built-in skill, meant unknown Class S students might be even stronger.

Had I set my ability’s ceiling too low?

No, I needed to learn Class S abilities first to better define mine. A low ceiling would cause trouble later.

The silence lasted until dinner, when someone finally broke it. But it wasn’t any of us—it was Mu Tieren, just back from Meng Huai.

“What’s with you guys?” He sat down with his food, puzzled, then suddenly looked worriedly at Jiang Tianming: “Your match…”

“I won,” Jiang Tianming replied, signaling our silence wasn’t due to his loss.

Mu Tieren set down his tray, scratching his head: “Isn’t that good? We all passed the first round! We should celebrate. Why the long faces?”

Jiang Tianming answered again: “We saw Si Zhaohua’s match. Very, very strong.”

Out of rigor, he used two “very”s to describe the shock at that moment.

Though the skill called “Judgment” wasn’t unleashed, the mere prelude had already made everyone present feel an overwhelming sense of oppression.

That aura of darkened skies and shifting winds was something not just rookie ability users like us, but even most veteran ability users, might not be able to achieve.

Could we really defeat someone as strong as Si Zhaohua?