A Guide for Background Characters to Survive in a Manga

His earlier speed had been quick; it wouldn’t have been easy for even an adult to get past him. Yet this brown-haired boy had evaded him effortlessly. Was it possible that his own speed had declined?

Before he could ponder further, Uncle Liu, who had been watching their entire interaction, couldn’t help but laugh. “Seeing you three like this, I almost forgot I was being kidnapped. You all seem to get along quite well.”

—

As soon as the words left his mouth, Zhao Xiaoyu and Si Zhaohua were momentarily taken aback. It was only when reminded that they realized they seemed to have no sense of boundaries with the little boy. It felt as if they had known each other for ages, their exchanges flowing with an unsettling ease.

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Su Bei felt a slight heaviness in his heart. The moment he dodged Si Zhaohua’s hand for the second time, he had already sensed his blunder. How could he possibly evade now, given his current identity?

At that moment, the silence from Zhao Xiaoyu and the other made him feel even more uneasy. Uncle Liu’s words rang true; although he was deliberately masquerading as a child, his earlier behavior was not out of place for someone his age.

Yet, the familiarity in Zhao Xiaoyu’s and Si Zhaohua’s demeanor towards him was too pronounced. They would inevitably grow suspicious due to their own attitudes. After all, these two—especially Si Zhaohua—were not the kind of people one could approach easily.

“Perhaps it’s because I’m just so adorable,” Su Bei interjected without hesitation, cutting through their thoughts.

He feigned a slightly narcissistic expression: “Not every child is as cute as I am; it’s only natural they can’t help but feel drawn to me.”

Zhao Xiaoyu: “…”

Si Zhaohua: “…”

Though they indeed found the child rather charming, there was an inexplicable sense of intimacy. Yet, once he voiced it, it struck them as annoyingly self-satisfied.

But there was no time for banter now. The door suddenly swung open, and the girl with the scorpion braid, now clad in a beautiful evening gown, entered. Behind her trailed a group of foreign-looking servants, each pushing a cart brimming with food.

It was around two or three in the morning. Despite the adrenaline from their earlier abduction, everyone was still alert, but their stomachs were growling with hunger. Upon seeing the food, many pairs of eyes lit up, stomachs rumbling audibly.

Hearing the sounds, the girl with the scorpion braid smiled with satisfaction. “I imagine you’re all quite hungry. I’ve come to bring you some food.”

No one spoke. Though they were starving, they hadn’t reached the point of losing their wits. Who would dare to eat something sent by their captors in such a situation?

The girl with the scorpion braid understood their hesitation and spoke in a soothing tone. “You needn’t worry. While our invitation may have been a bit rough, we mean no harm. We simply wish for you to be our guests.”

Only a fool would believe such words, yet no one dared to contradict her. After all, the kidnappers from the three groups had, to some extent, sacrificed a few “chickens” in their “hospitality.” Who would dare openly provoke them now?

Seeing they remained still, the girl with the scorpion braid was not angered. Instead, she coaxed gently, “You’ll be staying here for quite a while. You can’t possibly go without food and drink forever, can you? It’s best to eat quickly, lest you suffer needlessly.”

Her words were almost brazenly hinting that there was something amiss with the food, yet the group felt powerless. Deep down, they knew she was right. If the academy couldn’t rescue them soon, they would inevitably have to eat while trapped here.

Still, no one moved immediately. After all, a sliver of hope lingered in their hearts—what if the academy managed to save them in the next few days?

—

The scorpion-braid remained unperturbed, yet she could not be bothered to offer counsel: “During this time, you will all reside in this guest chamber. Each day, we shall bring you fresh meals. Over there is the latrine. If anyone consumes the food, you may knock on the door to inform us, and we will arrange a better lodging for you.”

With that, she turned, accompanied by a throng of attendants, leaving the others to gaze at the exquisite dishes with complex expressions. Uncle Liu swallowed hard, resolutely averting his gaze: “This food is one hundred percent suspect; everyone must not partake.”

Naturally, they all understood this, inching away from the tempting fare. The eldest sister sighed: “I only hope they come soon; who can endure hunger? There are three children here, after all.”

Su Bei said nothing, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, feigning sleep. He certainly wasn’t sleeping at this moment; in truth, Su Bei was deep in thought.

There were many ways to make a group of ordinary people eat. They could be directly controlled, like with Lan Subing’s [Word Spirit], or Li Shu’s [Illusion], or even Wu Jin’s [Succubus]. Even without these, one could forcibly pry open their mouths and feed them.

Yet, these people chose not to do so; instead, they wished to wait until hunger drove them to eat of their own accord.

Why was that?

Su Bei naturally arrived at an answer—this food must be consumed voluntarily.

With this thought, he raised an eyebrow, a plan forming in his mind. If it had to be eaten voluntarily to be effective, then they could simply force each other to eat, and all would be well.

This made the task simple. Su Bei was not worried that others wouldn’t think of it; he calmly fixed his gaze on the food, waiting for someone to propose this method, and then he would be the first to volunteer as a test subject.

The first to speak up was Zhao Xiaoyu. She had come to the same conclusion as Su Bei; it was clear that the ability users could easily make them eat, and the reason they were given autonomy was likely because the food only worked if consumed willingly.

Then let’s eat it “involuntarily.”

“I think I might have a way for us to eat a bit more,” Zhao Xiaoyu said, voicing her thoughts as she approached the food cart. “Who wants to give it a try?”

Though this was a risky endeavor—once ingested, the food could not be expelled—Si Zhaohua was willing to trust his classmate. Zhao Xiaoyu was not one to joke with her life, so he was ready to be the first to take the plunge.

However, before he could speak, Su Bei, whose stomach had been growling for some time, dashed forward: “I’ll do it!”

The others were taken aback that he would be the first to volunteer, assuming his youth had led to a lack of consideration. The eldest sister, who had been looking out for him, quickly urged, “Don’t go… why not wait a bit longer?”

The bespectacled boy, exuding a fatherly tone, lectured, “You’re being too impulsive, child. In the face of such risks, one should wait for others to try first, and only after confirming it’s safe should you proceed.”

“But if you don’t do it, and I don’t do it, then who will be the first to try?” Su Bei tilted his head, genuinely questioning.

Having known Wu Mingbai, Feng Lan, Mo Xiaotian, and Li Shu for so long, he had learned the art of this seemingly sincere sarcasm, even if half of them were not intentionally being sardonic.

The bespectacled man was momentarily choked by his words. He wanted to respond, “Someone has to do it,” but such an overly refined, self-serving remark was hardly suitable for a child.

Su Bei chuckled, turning to his elder sister. “I think she’s right. With how powerful the ability users are, they could easily force us to eat… So if she doesn’t force us, it just proves that our self-coercion is feasible.”

After saying this, he walked over to Zhao Xiaoyu, who looked somewhat surprised, and unceremoniously ordered, “I’m hungry. I want this steak, and that pudding.”

In truth, this little bit wouldn’t be enough for him; after all, a growing boy could eat his father out of house and home, and Su Bei’s appetite was no small matter. However, he was still maintaining the persona of an eight-year-old, and eating too much would give him away.

Zhao Xiaoyu found it somewhat amusing and pondered before asking, “Aren’t you afraid?”

“Afraid? I’m scared to death.” Su Bei replied lazily, suddenly realizing that he was only echoing what he had said when he was taken hostage by the “Black Flash” organization’s assassins.

Fortunately, neither Zhao Xiaoyu nor Si Zhaohua had been present at that time, so they couldn’t possibly recognize him from that single line. At most, future readers of the comic might notice this foreshadowing and guess his identity ahead of time.

What Su Bei didn’t know was that both Zhao Xiaoyu and Si Zhaohua, upon seeing his earlier response, were momentarily taken aback. That nonchalant air the child had just exuded felt oddly familiar.

For now, feeding him was the most important thing. Zhao Xiaoyu quickly gathered her thoughts, picked up the steak Su Bei had ordered, and forcefully shoved it into his mouth. Su Bei did indeed put up a struggle, but it was of little effect.

After finishing the meal, he didn’t turn to help Zhao Xiaoyu; instead, he gazed toward the door. Their actions had clearly defied the kidnappers’ intentions, and it wouldn’t be long before they came.

The others followed his gaze, and sure enough, the door swung open swiftly. The woman with the scorpion braid wore a grim expression as she entered, clapping her hands mockingly. “Did you think you were clever? Unfortunately, I’m the butcher and you’re the meat. In the face of absolute power, your little cleverness is of no use.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a brocade box from her bag. When she opened it, inside lay a black pill the size of a malt ball. “I’ll be honest with you; we did hide something in the food, and it’s this.”

At her words, a collective gasp echoed through the room. Though they had long suspected something was amiss with the food, hearing it confirmed still sent a wave of fear through them.

“Let’s cut the nonsense. If anyone is willing to eat this, knock on the door. If you’re not willing, then stay inside until you die!” She snorted coldly, turning to leave the room.

Zhao Xiaoyu called out just in time, “Can we know what this pill does? How can we dare to eat it if you don’t tell us anything?”

“It won’t kill you,” the scorpion-braided woman glanced back at her. “I actually admire you. I advise you to eat it sooner rather than later to avoid suffering. I won’t hide it from you: if you don’t swallow this pill, none of you will leave this island alive.”

With that, she left, slamming the door shut behind her.

A deathly silence hung in the air. After a moment, Uncle Liu sighed and slowly walked toward the food. “Eat up, but make it last. This is probably the last food they’ll send us before we compromise.”

As expected, no one came in for the entire day. It was as if they had been abandoned by the world, left to sit in this small room and await their fate.

The atmosphere buzzed with anxiety, a palpable tension weaving through the crowd as they pondered their fate. Must they truly compromise? Or should they wait, resigned, for rescue? But would help truly arrive as promised?

Unlike the others, Su Bei remained unperturbed. If he were alone, perhaps a flicker of panic would have crossed his mind, but with Zhao Xiaoyu and Si Zhaohua by his side, he felt a strange sense of assurance. It was clear these two would not simply succumb to despair; they would find a way out.

Of course, he still made sure to display a hint of fear, lest anyone catch on to his calm demeanor.

Even the boldest of souls, unafraid of the tiger, could not remain entirely fearless in such an alien environment.

The room had no windows, offering no glimpse of the outside world. Seizing the opportunity to use the restroom, Su Bei took a quick look around. The restroom, too, was devoid of windows, but a vent in the ceiling provided a sliver of hope. Aside from that, the reception area was a sealed chamber. Unless one possessed some extraordinary ability, escape was utterly impossible.

Earlier, the scorpion-braided figure had let slip a crucial detail: they were on a small island. An island, surrounded by the sea on all sides, made the prospect of returning to the mainland seem insurmountable. Moreover, the nearby land might not even belong to their own country; if it were foreign soil, safety would be even harder to attain.

Having already pulled an all-nighter, and with nothing to occupy his mind, fatigue soon washed over Su Bei, and he curled up in a corner, drifting into sleep.

When he awoke, the room was eerily quiet. Some were sleeping, while others stared blankly into space. Among the latter were those who had just woken and those who had not slept a wink.

Zhao Xiaoyu and Si Zhaohua belonged to the former group. Upon seeing Su Bei awake, they instinctively settled beside him.

“Hey, kid, what’s your name?” Zhao Xiaoyu asked.

“Yan Nan,” Su Bei replied casually.

Su (素) for Yan (艳), and Nan for Bei—an obscure play on words that went unnoticed by the two.

Si Zhaohua, curious, inquired, “Do you think we should take that pill?”

From their experiences yesterday, it was clear that this child, though young, had a strong will and an intriguing perspective. Si Zhaohua thought perhaps he could glean something different from him.

“Take—”

Hearing Su Bei say “take,” both of them exchanged surprised glances.

But then Su Bei continued, “—it’s fine, not taking it is fine too.”

Disappointment washed over the two, along with others who had been eavesdropping, nearly prompting them to scold the brat. Why drag out the words? Was he intentionally toying with them?

Su Bei, of course, was being deliberately mischievous, shaking his head and saying, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

However, there was one thing he truly did not misspeak: whether to eat or not, it mattered little. After all, they were the protagonists; nothing could truly go awry in a place like this.

In truth, Su Bei had no clear plan. There were only two paths before him. One was to knock on the door, obtain the medicine, and then feign consumption. The other was to find a way to escape this room and flee the island altogether.

To be frank, the likelihood of the latter was slim; he had to seek a way out from the former method. Yet, Su Bei was uncertain whether the ruse of pretending to take the medicine would work. He knew that if it failed even once, they would undoubtedly remain on high alert, making any future deception nearly impossible.

Thus, it had to succeed on the first attempt.

Moreover, there was another concern gnawing at Su Bei. Previously, the Scorpion Braid had declared that those who refused the medicine would not leave the island alive. This statement had a rather straightforward interpretation: those who did not take the medicine would be killed outright.

But there was a deeper understanding as well; they were now bound to this island, and the pills were the key. Unless they consumed the pills, the moment they left the island, they would surely perish for some reason.

With these dual concerns weighing on him, even he dared not act rashly. Now, he could only wait for the first person to take the plunge. Once someone broke down and took the medicine, the enemy would inevitably send someone back to persuade the rest. At that point, he could inquire about the specifics and then decide how to proceed.

Should he nudge this process along?

If everyone stood united, they might last another three or four days, and inevitably, someone would cave in due to hunger. But if he intervened, creating a tense atmosphere in the room, it was likely that by tomorrow, someone would crack under the pressure.

After some thought, Su Bei decided against taking any initiative. He likely wouldn’t find a way to escape the room immediately after the first person capitulated. So, if the atmosphere soured and someone left, the days ahead would surely become even more unbearable.

For the sake of long-term considerations, he resolved to remain compliant. There was no need to make himself uncomfortable just to save a little time; even in a state of captivity, comfort held its importance.

The two meal carts had been emptied within a day, after all, with over thirty mouths to feed; even with careful rationing, little could remain.

With no hunger gnawing at their bellies, the first two days passed in relative quiet, with no inclination to compromise. A small group began to frequent the restroom, and they naturally recognized that the ventilation shaft was their only potential escape. Moreover, the restroom should lack surveillance, allowing them to plot without the kidnappers discovering their schemes.

Yet, observing their actions, Su Bei felt these individuals were courting death. Surely, the kidnappers could think of what they were thinking? The room had but one exit, conveniently located in a blind spot; did that not seem suspicious?

Zhao Xiaoyu and Si Zhaohua shared this sentiment and had even attempted to dissuade them once. However, their well-meaning advice was met with ridicule instead. Thus, they too began to watch with cold indifference.

On the third day, those frequenting the restroom became even more brazen, sometimes going in groups, as if afraid others wouldn’t notice their conspiracy to escape.

Such foolish behavior only heightened Su Bei’s wariness. These individuals were prominent politicians back home; how could they become so dim-witted upon being kidnapped?

He considered himself reasonably clever, but he did not possess an intellect far beyond the ordinary. If the three of them could see through the situation, there was no reason the others could not as well.

Now, two possibilities loomed: either the narrative had forcibly dumbed down these expendable characters, much like he had been forced to his demise, or this group had ulterior motives, and all their actions were merely a smokescreen.

After witnessing two figures emerge from the restroom once more, he slipped away to relieve himself, leaving behind an open recorder in a shadowy corner.

That night, he returned to the restroom, retrieving the recorder to listen to its contents.

“We can’t keep waiting like this; we must set the plan in motion,” the voice of the bespectacled man rang clear.

Another voice, tinged with hesitation, replied, “But they’re not fools. If we say we’ve found a way, do you think they’ll believe us?”

“But they have no other options, do they?” the bespectacled man asserted confidently. “As long as we can trick most of them into going up, the kidnappers will expend a great deal of energy trying to catch them. You knock on the door pretending to need medicine; when they open it, we seize the chance to escape.”

“I know, I know, I’ve got the plan memorized. But…”

The man remained deeply uncertain; after all, this was a matter that could endanger more than one life. “What if we get exposed?”

“If none of us say a word, how could we be exposed? If they go up and get caught, it’ll just mean we didn’t scout properly and were deceived by those cunning kidnappers. It won’t be intentional.”

With a deliberate coldness, he added, “I brought you into this because I thought you were clever. Don’t make me regret it and endanger the rest of us.”

At this, a cold laugh escaped Su Bei’s lips. His thoughts were quite clever, using the others as bait while he slipped away in the chaos of their defenses.

But alas, a doomed plan, no matter how cunning, was bound to fail.

In the end, the man was swayed by the bespectacled one, and they left the restroom together. After a moment, two more entered, also drawn into the bespectacled man’s scheme, discussing the plan with equal fervor.

“I can’t shake the feeling that this plan is unreliable,” the first man spoke, his voice laced with anxiety. “Let’s not end up with that Zhang Lei kid leading us all into a trap.”

“I think it’s unreliable too,” replied a deeper voice. “But we have no other options. I don’t want to starve here, nor do I want to take those pills. Running away is our only way out.”

A shared silence enveloped them, until the second man continued, “This method is worth a try. If it fails, we can just choose not to help or hinder.”

There were several more conversations, and Su Bei calculated that six individuals were involved in the bespectacled man’s plan. A and B were tasked with informing the others that they had found a way to the surface through the ventilation shaft, guiding them inside.

Logically, as the pioneers, they should have remained at the front to lead the way. Now it was time for C and D to step in. They were to use the excuse that someone had to stay behind to hold off the kidnappers, forcing A and B to stay back while the others ascended alone.

Finally, there was E, who would knock on the door and tell the outside that he had decided to take the pills. Then, the remaining individuals would rush in when the door opened, dealing with the outsiders and making their escape from the reception room.

As for who remained besides A, B, C, D, and E? Naturally, it was the bespectacled man. He boldly claimed the role of commander. If he was the planner, why should he also be the executor?

And truth be told, he wasn’t wrong. One couldn’t expect others to think and act; what purpose would they serve then?

After learning of their plan, Su Bei decided to disengage; after all, he had no intention of going out. It was clear their scheme was flimsy at best, and the reason all five, including the bespectacled man, were willing to go along was likely a misguided belief in the safety of numbers.

If they all banded together, the enemy, unless intent on wiping them out, would refrain from bloodshed. If they managed to escape, it would be a joyous outcome for all. Even if they failed, the consequences wouldn’t be dire; they couldn’t possibly kill them all.

Yet, success was a distant dream. If they were caught, even if they didn’t die, suffering would be inevitable. Su Bei would never engage in such a foolish endeavor for the sake of pointless suffering. He would simply watch them make their mess!

—

Another whole day passed, and still no rescue came. Just as Su Bei had anticipated, the group could no longer contain themselves.

As they had previously discussed, two emerged from the restroom, hurrying towards the others. They exchanged pleasantries, but in truth, they were discreetly slipping notes into each person’s hands.

Naturally, Su Bei did not receive one of these notes; he sensed their movements through his mental acuity. But it was obvious that the note contained information about an escape route through the ventilation shaft.

As expected, the group furtively read the contents of the notes, their eyes widening in shock. Yet, being politicians at heart, they masked their reactions, their demeanor noticeably more animated. Aside from the six, others began to frequent the restroom with increasing frequency.

By the afternoon, their expressions had calmed considerably, though traces of excitement still flickered in their eyes. It seemed they had already mapped out their escape plan.

For every believer, there were skeptics. Several remained unmoved, including Zhao Xiaoyu and Liu Shu, as well as the elder sister. The former two needed no explanation; the latter two were steadfastly awaiting rescue.

Their reluctance stemmed from conversations with the students of the Ability Academy. While they didn’t claim to fully understand the abilities, they recognized the formidable strength of those wielding them. In such circumstances, escaping seemed nearly impossible; it was wiser to remain still and wait.

The bespectacled man and his companions paid little mind to their refusal. As long as the majority were willing to cooperate, a few dissenters posed no real threat, provided they kept quiet.

Nightfall was the prime time for mischief. One person would slip away to the restroom and suddenly shout, “Oh no! I think I forgot to flush! What should I do?”

If this were a genuine crisis, it would indeed be a terrifying predicament. After all, it was easy to imagine that the kidnappers would not lift a finger to fix the toilet, relishing instead in their torment of foul odors.

But when Su Bei saw a throng of people rushing into the restroom, he knew this was part of their plan.

At that moment, Si Zhaohua approached, observing the calm expression on the child’s face. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned his gaze towards the restroom, his tone cool and quiet, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t concern you.”

Su Bei had initially wanted to retort, “Do I look worried to you?” but thought better of it and simply nodded in silence.

Such was Si Zhaohua—too proud to mock a child in such a situation, too indifferent to gauge his reaction. He offered only a clumsy reassurance.

Others might have asked, “Do you want to know what they’re up to?” or “Are you scared they’ll escape without you?”

There were few honest souls like Si Zhaohua left; they deserved to be cherished.

After they finished speaking, the two men standing beside the bespectacled man suddenly called out loudly, “Xiao Zhao, Xiao Wang, hurry out! Don’t linger in the restroom!”

A rustling sound seemed to rise from within the restroom, and before long, two men and a woman emerged. The woman at the front wore a frown, a beauty mark on her face like a matchmaker’s mark: “Why call for them? Does the restroom need their fixing?”

Her words were veiled, yet those who understood knew well. The one who had called them out replied with a sense of righteousness, “There’s only one way to do this; can’t you lot manage it?”

He was indeed as unreasonable as the recording had suggested: “I don’t care! The problem is they discovered it first! Why should they be the main force? This is unreliable; if you two still consider me a friend, stay!”

The two had already intended to stay, but upon hearing this, they exchanged glances, feigning difficulty for a moment, then turned to the matchmaker with an apologetic tone: “Sorry, we still…”