A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga - Chapter 83



With a torch in hand, Su Bei cleared the Nightmares while making his way to the island’s edge. When he reached the cliff and looked down, the source of the insects was completely shrouded in mist, making it impossible to discern where they came from.

Seeing the insects appeared easy to handle, Zhou Renjie yawned widely and slowly sat back down, “I’ll sleep first; whoever is on watch can deal with these bugs.”

Si Zhao Hua lifted the two-hundred-pound man effortlessly, “Wake up! Is this an environment where you can sleep?”

“Why not?” Zhou Renjie was genuinely exhausted, rubbing his eyes and mumbling, “We don’t need so many people to deal with these bugs; one person should be enough.”

“Take another look,” Si Zhao Hua replied coolly, releasing her grip and letting Zhou Renjie stumble and fall to the ground.

The fall jolted Zhou Renjie awake, and he glanced toward the island’s edge. After observing for a moment, he rubbed his eyes again, uncertainly saying, “These Nightmares seem to have grown larger?”

The outermost ring of insects was indeed somewhat larger than those deeper within, though the difference was subtle and not easily noticeable without close inspection.

“They have grown,” Mu Tieren nodded, his tone steady. “Let’s wait and see.”

If they had only grown once, it wouldn’t be a problem, but if they kept growing, trouble was bound to follow.

After about five minutes, the newly arrived insects had indeed grown larger, and compared to the previous Nightmares, they sported an extra pair of small wings. They no longer crawled along the ground but began to lazily fly into the air, heading toward the direction of living beings.

“This is… evolution?” Zhou Renjie’s voice was filled with astonishment.

Líng Yōu furrowed her brow, rarely speaking: “Something’s not right.”

The current situation was indeed very wrong. If these little nightmare insects were merely growing larger, it wouldn’t be so concerning. But they were not only growing; they were also changing form, which was decidedly peculiar.

“Perhaps the adult form of these nightmare insects has wings,” Sī Zhàohuá said uncertainly, but one thing he was sure of: “We can’t stay here any longer.”

This small island was crawling with these creatures, some flying in the sky, others scuttling on the ground, and their numbers were clearly increasing. Without a doubt, the castle was the only place that could be considered remotely safe.

Though everyone knew there was something amiss with that castle, they had no choice but to go there. If they allowed these little insects to evolve a few more times, they might not even be able to reach the castle at all.

As they approached the door, the group came to an unspoken halt. They truly did not want to enter; what was the difference between knowing there was a tiger in the mountain and walking toward it?

Oh, there was a difference. The former was voluntary; the latter was forced.

“Let’s stall for a bit,” Sū Běi suddenly spoke up. “Let’s break a glass dome.”

Breaking the glass dome would not only create a protective shield but, more importantly, it would send a signal to the teachers.

Though the teachers might not be able to find this small island immediately, and likely wouldn’t arrive in time if they encountered danger, at least it was a layer of assurance.

Upon hearing his words, the others found it feasible. They too had thought of the signal for help that could be sent by shattering the glass dome.

Their earlier reluctance stemmed from not believing there was any danger behind that door. But now, faced with this unmistakable trap, the hot-blooded youths finally decided to exercise caution.

“Then I’ll do it.” Without waiting for others to respond, Mù Tiěrén smashed his own glass dome.

With the glass dome shattered, a shield emerged, providing an additional layer of protection. Mù Tiěrén’s act of breaking his own dome was, in essence, a sacrifice for the benefit of all.

A pale blue circular light shield rose instantly, enveloping him. The internal space of this light was not particularly large; if they were all slender, it might barely fit four people.

But Mù Tiěrén and Zhōu Rénjié clearly did not fit that description. With the two of them present, it could protect at most three people, and they would have to contort themselves into awkward positions.

Sī Zhàohuá had no desire to squeeze in with the others. He decisively said, “I’ll go out. With wings, I can hold on for a while.”

“Don’t,” Sū Běi interjected suddenly. “Don’t forget your ability.”

He had learned of Sī Zhàohuá’s secret during their group battle; his ability could attract nightmare beasts. If he activated his power here, those insects would likely swarm toward him. How long could those wings hold up then?

Upon the utterance of those words, Si Zhaohua paused for a moment, finally grasping his meaning. Indeed, he had forgotten this flaw of his ability; in a place teeming with nightmare beasts, if he wished to avoid death, he truly had no way to activate his powers.

But the question remained: how did Su Bei know this secret?

In this school, aside from his childhood friends Zhou Renjie and Ai Baozhu, perhaps only a handful of teachers were privy to this knowledge. Yet, none of these individuals would casually divulge it to others. So how did Su Bei come to know?

Si Zhaohua scrutinized him, half-jokingly, half-seriously saying, “With you acting this way, I’d think you knew all our secrets.”

Unfazed by his probing gaze, Su Bei replied with a smile that was neither here nor there, “Perhaps I truly do know?”

At this, the others fell silent, their eyes flickering. Who among them didn’t harbor a secret? If Su Bei really knew theirs, it would be utterly terrifying.

Suddenly, Ling You, rarely one to show joy, spoke up, “I found it!”

“What did you find?” The group turned their attention to her, curiosity piqued.

At that moment, Ling You reverted to her usual impassive demeanor, though a hint of delight still shone in her eyes. “A virus that can deal with the bugs.”

Only then did the others remember—right, Ling You’s ability was [Plague]. Against such a multitude of foes, this was clearly her domain!

“What should we do?” Mu Tieren’s eyes lit up, immediately asking.

Ling You pondered for a moment. “Do we have any sweets or meat?”

Though this virus was highly potent, its transmission was weak, relying on food to spread. Fortunately, those nightmare insects would consume the corpses of their companions, so as long as they spread it initially, it would be fine.

Zhou Renjie promptly produced some pastries and sausages, having brought the most of these.

With the necessary items in hand, Ling You unleashed her ability upon the food, then scattered it about. The sweets were of no interest to the nightmare insects, but the meat products were quickly swarmed by the little bugs.

Before long, those insects that had consumed the food swayed as if intoxicated, then lost all vitality. Their companions, oblivious to any anomaly, instinctively moved in to devour them.

Thus, those insects that had feasted on their fallen brethren followed suit, first swaying, then succumbing to lifelessness. The entire process lasted no more than five seconds.

Each insect corpse could be nibbled on by three or five others, and those few would become new sources of poison.

—

Before the naked eye, more and more insects fell, a relentless tide of them surging forth, marching upon the paths of their fallen kin.

In just half an hour, the clearing of the small island was already piled high with the corpses of these creatures, a dark, oppressive mass—terrifying and repulsive.

Notably, as time passed, these insects underwent many new transformations. Some sprouted fangs, others were covered in barbs, and some, like spiders, possessed eight legs.

Yet thankfully, their habits remained unchanged; they still feasted upon the bodies of their brethren.

A foul stench hung thick in the air, nearly inducing retching. Si Zhaohua fought to suppress the urge to vomit: “I can’t take it anymore, it’s too disgusting!”

The others, lacking his fastidiousness, managed to endure. Mu Tieren looked at Ling You with a mix of shock and admiration: “Your ability is truly formidable.”

What had once seemed an insurmountable swarm was effortlessly vanquished by her, a battle won without bloodshed, effortlessly creating a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

Ling You had rarely employed her powers before; though everyone rationally understood that the Plague was undoubtedly powerful, without witnessing it firsthand, they lacked a true sense of its might.

Only upon witnessing this scene did they genuinely feel the weight of her ability, the Plague, rightfully dubbed a war machine by their teachers. If unleashed on a battlefield, they could scarcely imagine the devastation it would wreak.

Due to her pale complexion, despite expending considerable mental energy, Ling You did not appear weak; her lips merely paled further. Her expression was stoic, yet a faint blush tinged her cheeks, clearly betraying her inner excitement.

Previously, she had not had so many subjects to practice upon; this was her first time annihilating so many foes with her own powers. Not just the others, even she gained a newfound understanding of her abilities through this experience.

No matter how others praised her powers, nothing compared to the clarity gained from wielding them herself, witnessing their effects firsthand.

“Does this mean we don’t have to enter the castle?” Zhou Renjie asked, his voice bright with relief. The castle looked haunted, and he had no desire to walk into the jaws of danger.

Mu Tieren nodded, giving Ling You a thumbs-up: “At least for now, it seems we’re safe. This ability is truly impressive; I’ve gained a new perspective.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Si Zhaohua warned, his expression serious. Though he was astonished by Ling You’s displayed prowess, he did not relax his vigilance simply because of a powerful teammate.

It was clear that the puppeteer behind this was intent on driving them into the castle; thus, they would not allow them to linger outside easily.

If all went as expected, an ambush was imminent.

Sure enough, not long after he spoke, new insects surged forth. These creatures, resembling ants, were starkly different from the previous ones; they ignored the corpses of their kin and charged straight for Su Bei and the others!

“Are they a different breed?” Zhou Renjie gaped, then quickly turned to Ling You, “These don’t seem to eat corpses. Do you have any other viruses to deal with them?”

—

Unfortunately, this time Ling You found herself at a loss: “No.”

She could acquire the plague virus in two ways. One was to find the virus in the real world and incorporate it into her abilities. This virus had to be personally touched and understood in order to be used, and employing it required a significant expenditure of mental energy.

The other way was through cultivation and insight, allowing the abilities to generate the virus automatically. Some of these viruses existed in reality, while others were unheard of. They could be used without consuming mental energy, and their methods varied greatly.

The virus Ling You had just used was one she had comprehended herself, capable of dealing with all insects. In daily life, there were almost no plague viruses that could inflict great damage on insects available for collection. Thus, to fill the gap, Ling You had to specifically comprehend the plagues related to insects. But she had prepared only this one.

“Then let’s hold on a little longer before we go in,” Si Zhaohua said, attacking with a torch while reminding, “Don’t use your abilities; once we enter the castle, we’ll likely need to use them. Conserve your mental energy.”

The others shared the same thought, attacking only with torches.

The insects multiplied, and the torches were becoming less effective. Si Zhaohua and Su Bei sheltered behind the wooden iron man’s protective shield, while the remaining two were inside.

Fortunately, those insects attacked whoever they saw, not bypassing the shield to assault the minds of those behind. They remained in a stalemate for another half hour; the shield had yet to crack, but the others could no longer hold out.

The nightmare insects had piled up in front of the shield to a height of half a meter, the newest ones at the top were as large as a palm, all clawing and snapping, causing the two inside to turn pale.

“I can’t take it anymore… Ugh! I feel like I’m going to vomit!” Zhou Renjie gagged, quickly shutting his eyes. “I mean, when the shield cracks, those bugs won’t just leap onto our faces, right?”

None of them had seen what it looked like when the shield cracked. If it were to gradually splinter, that would be manageable; at least they would have time to escape. But if it shattered without warning, that would be disastrous.

With so many insects clinging to the shield, once it broke, they would inevitably surge toward their faces due to inertia. The two inside the shield would be the first to bear the brunt of it.

As soon as these words were spoken, even the usually indifferent Ling You couldn’t help but change her expression. Forget about them leaping onto her face; she couldn’t even bear them landing on her body!

“Let’s go into the castle,” she turned to the two behind her.

Su Bei and the other person, equally unwilling to face such a scene, nodded. Seizing the opportunity while the two in front attracted the insects’ attention, one stepped forward to the castle door.

“Creak—”

As luck would have it, the moment they arrived, the great door slowly opened. Inside, lights flickered on layer by layer, illuminating the space in an instant.

Si Zhaohua’s expression darkened. Although he had long suspected a conspiracy was afoot, seeing it laid out so brazenly made his heart sink.

“Quick, come over!”

As the wooden iron men reached the door as well,

Five of them stepped inside together.

“Bang!”

As soon as they entered, the door slammed shut behind them. Si Zhaohua and the others jumped in surprise, while Zhou Renjie hurriedly tried to push the door open, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Are we trapped?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in panic.

“What else could it be? Did they lead us here just so we could have a nice, restful night?” Su Bei replied lazily, pulling a lollipop from his storage space, unwrapping it, and popping it into his mouth.

The lack of mental energy, compounded by a sleepless night, left him feeling drained; he needed a bit of sugar to wake his mind.

Noticing the others staring at him in silence, Su Bei, ever the generous one, pulled out a few more lollipops. “Want some?”

He had thought they wouldn’t take any, but to his surprise, each of them grabbed one from his hand, leaving his once ample supply dwindling.

Five people, each with a lollipop in their mouths—it was a comical sight.

After sucking on the candy for a while and absorbing the sweetness, Su Bei finally felt his mind sharpen a bit, allowing him to take in his surroundings.

The castle hall was lavishly decorated, gleaming with gold and splendor. It was empty, devoid of any life, let alone supplies; just a vast, hollow chamber.

The only notable feature was at the far end of the hall, where five narrow staircases stood, each wide enough for only one person. Beside them was a sign that read, “One person only per staircase.”

The others noticed the sign too, and Zhou Renjie scoffed, “Only one person allowed? What if I take two up one staircase? What can they do about it?”

Before anyone could respond, he boldly stepped onto one of the staircases. His hefty frame nearly squeezed into the narrow space.

“Are you crazy?” Si Zhaohua exclaimed, startled by his reckless move. “Get down!”

Zhou Renjie shrugged it off. “Nothing’s happened, has it?”

Yet, he still heeded Si Zhaohua’s warning and began to descend. But no one expected that when he reached the last step, trying to return to the ground, he suddenly seemed to bump into something.

“Ouch!” Zhou Renjie cried, clutching his forehead, then looked ahead in confusion. There was nothing in front of him—what had he just collided with?

He reached out, eyes widening in realization. “There’s a transparent wall here!”

Upon hearing this, Si Zhaohua also reached out to feel, and indeed, he touched a clear barrier. He sighed in resignation. “Looks like only one person can use a staircase at a time after all.”

Unfortunately, understanding this came only through the personal trials of others. Zhou Renjie felt tears welling up, “If I had known, I wouldn’t have come up here. What now?”

“Everyone find a staircase and go straight up,” Su Bei said decisively. “Staying out there for even a moment brought a swarm of bugs; who knows what else might be waiting for us in this hall if we linger?”

Her words rang true, and the group had no choice but to accept it. Yet, even so, they lingered a while longer in the hall. What if, by waiting just a bit longer, their teacher could arrive at a crucial moment?

It wasn’t until several bugs crawled in through the bottom of the grand door that they realized they could wait no longer. Each chose a staircase and began to ascend.

Before heading up, Su Bei had already checked everyone’s heads; the small pointers were all in order.

Once the others had left, he took out a mirror to check his own head. The small pointer was also tilted to the left, but it was perfectly centered.

After a moment’s thought, Su Bei decided to expend the rest of his mental energy, leaving just enough to support his actions, successfully shifting the small pointer all the way to the far left.

It was worth noting that the energy required to move the pointer from the right to the left was far greater than that needed to shift it further left from its already left-leaning position.

If all went as expected, he should be able to breeze through this challenge.

Having read many shonen comics, Su Bei understood well that these obstacles created by the villains were primarily meant to provide growth for the protagonists.

But he didn’t need that. As a character teetering on the edge of righteousness, his role was to embody mystery and strength; progress was irrelevant to him. If he were to struggle against the enemies like everyone else, he would lose his edge.

Moreover, looking at the state of his pointer, Su Bei genuinely worried he might end up in a particularly awkward situation. At that point, feeling exhausted would be minor; losing his persona would be catastrophic!

Besides, he didn’t need the progress offered by the villains; he could rely on comics and forums for that.

After making his adjustments, Su Bei strolled leisurely up the stairs. After turning a corner, he arrived on the second floor. It was a spacious platform with a sofa, and in front of the sofa was a coffee table. On the table sat a fruit platter, but it contained only a few scattered slices of apple.

Where is everyone?

Su Bei looked around in confusion, confirming that indeed no one was there, and continued his ascent.

No one on the second floor, no one on the third, and the fourth floor was equally empty. The fifth floor, the top floor, was predictably devoid of life as well.

Yet, the decor here was particularly cozy, appearing to be a place for rest. With the small pointer now adjusted to the far left, Su Bei settled comfortably into the sofa and drifted off to sleep.

“Wake up? Wake up?”

A gentle female voice roused Su Bei from his slumber, and he jolted awake, blinking at Ye Lin, whose face was etched with worry and surprise.

Confused, Su Bei sat up, realizing he had returned to the inn where he had stayed the previous day, beside him lay the unconscious Feng Lan.

“Teacher, what’s going on?” he asked, a hint of bewilderment in his tone.

Ye Lin furrowed her brow, appearing momentarily perplexed. Then she sighed, about to speak, when the door swung open, interrupted by two figures entering.

It was Meng Huai and Lei Ze’en.

Before stepping inside, Lei Ze’en had been speaking, “This matter can only rely on them; if they can’t wake up, there’s nothing we can do out here… Su Bei? You’re already awake!”

Seeing Su Bei sitting up, Lei Ze’en exclaimed in surprise.

Meng Huai wore a similar expression of astonishment, glancing at Ye Lin.

Ye Lin shook her head. “I noticed Su Bei stirring a bit, as if he was about to wake, so I tentatively called out to him, and he really did wake up.”

At that moment, Su Bei had pieced together fragments of their conversation and interjected, “Was that just an illusion?”

Ye Lin nodded.

Su Bei immediately feigned nonchalance, saying, “As expected.”

Acting is all about capturing every detail; he believed that if this line appeared in a comic, it would surely spark a great uproar on the forums.

The others, of course, could not fathom what thoughts swirled in his calm demeanor. Meng Huai asked seriously, “Tell us what happened in the illusion. How did you escape?”

The events within the illusion were quite simple, and Su Bei recounted them swiftly, until he reached the part where he ascended the stairs and fell asleep on the top floor. The two teachers fell into silence.

Finally, it was Ye Lin who broke the stillness. “The reason you could escape must be that you fell asleep in the illusion, thus leaving it automatically.”