Chapter 9
If he wasn’t mistaken, Feng Lan’s demeanor and card balance suggested wealth. Such people faced plenty of scheming, so rather than beating around the bush and seeming suspicious, it was better to ask directly.
Surely all of Class F was curious about [Prophecy], so Su Bei figured his question wouldn’t stand out.
As expected, Feng Lan didn’t hide anything. Swallowing his rice, he answered: “It’s [Prophecy]. It can consume mental energy to randomly predict vague things, like ‘something will happen on the first day of school.’ It can also predict specific things, but that consumes more energy, and with my current state, I can only do the latter once a month.”
“Something will happen on the first day of school”?
To others, this might be confusing, but Su Bei felt the power of Feng Lan’s [Prophecy] deeply.
It was exactly the Ability he’d planned to claim for himself.
After a moment’s thought, his eyes gleamed: “So it has no attack or defense capabilities, useless in combat?”
Feng Lan nodded, then shook his head: “The Ability itself has no combat use, but it can be used for fighting.”
He lowered his head to eat, and Su Bei didn’t press further. Their relationship wasn’t close enough for full disclosure, and Feng Lan had already shared plenty.
The information was enough for Su Bei to form new ideas. Since Feng Lan’s Ability lacked offensive power, he could use that to adjust his own Ability plan.
A fate with offensive power… how to tweak it?
After eating, they returned to the boys’ dorm.
Endless Ability Academy was generous here. All students got private rooms, even Class F’s “hopeless” students, with en-suite bathrooms.
With no afternoon classes on the first day, Su Bei parted with Feng Lan, entered his dorm, and started unpacking his morning mess.
While unpacking, he asked: “‘Manga Consciousness,’ are you there? Send me a copy of the previous manga. I want to study the plot.”
The first arc’s plot would help him analyze the protagonist trio’s personalities, and the second arc’s opening had plenty to dissect.
“Sure, I’ve put it, along with the forum, on your phone. You can check anytime. To others, it looks like study materials.”
Su Bei sighed in relief. This setup was good; if his phone was lost, he wouldn’t worry.
“Manga Consciousness” was unusually considerate, and he was touched. Many lower-class students studied regular academic subjects during academy breaks.
Lacking talent in the Ability world, they’d return to the normal world, where degrees mattered.
The academy turned a blind eye, even assigning Class F extra academic classes and recommending schools post-graduation.
Opening his phone, a manga app appeared, its icon a close-up of Jiang Tianming, Lan Subing, and Wu Mingbai.
The app’s interface was a simple green, with two books: [King of Abilities] Part 1 and Part 2.
At the top were two tabs: Manga and Forum.
After hesitating, Su Bei swiped to the forum.
“Academy Arc’s about to start, so excited AHHH!”
“Please, more hot characters in the Academy Arc. This series lacks eye candy.”
“Discussing: What did Jiang Jiang mean by that line at Part 1’s end?”
Hot posts had yellow tags, and one about manga foreshadowing caught Su Bei’s eye. He’d wondered about Jiang Tianming’s final line after reading.
But he didn’t click it. Part 2 hadn’t updated, and if readers guessed the foreshadowing now, the manga wouldn’t need to continue.
Finding nothing useful, he returned to the manga tab and opened Part 2. Part 1 was longer, with more hidden info, but Part 2’s content was more urgent.
After unpacking and sitting on the bed, just before opening Part 2, Su Bei asked: “The original Part 2 started with my death. Now that I didn’t die, how will the manga handle it?”
“Manga Consciousness” hadn’t expected him to notice, hesitating before answering, as it couldn’t hide it: “Someone else will die in your place.”
The room fell eerily silent, not even breathing audible. Unable to bear the quiet, “Manga Consciousness” spoke again: “So you…”
“So what?” Su Bei cut it off, chuckling coldly. “Heh, were you going to say, ‘So you should work hard, don’t waste their death’?”
Close inspection would reveal his smile held no warmth, only icy coldness.
His half-covered bangs hid his eyes, his eyelids fluttered lightly, and his lips curved with a roguish charm.
“…What’s wrong with that?” “Manga Consciousness” had meant to say it.
Having seen many criminals with his dad, Su Bei rarely fell into logical traps. He was always clear-headed: “You know, even back then, it wasn’t carelessness that got me targeted by the killer.”
He vividly recalled his mind being a fog, his actions barely his own until “Manga Consciousness” snapped him out.
In other words—“Whether it was my death or the substitute’s, it was a plot kill!”
Su Bei declared firmly.
He wouldn’t punish himself for the substitute’s death. It wasn’t his fault; he was a victim too.
“The real killer is the assassin, the plot, the manga! Why should I, a victim, feel guilty or be motivated by it?”
He looked up, smirking pointedly: “No one would feel guilty. Who’re you trying to guilt-trip?”
He’d sorted this out after reviving. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let someone else take his place, living with a death on his conscience.
His words silenced “Manga Consciousness.” It realized that, while it hadn’t meant to guilt-trip, it had indeed misjudged from the start.
Whether Su Bei’s death or the substitute’s, it was the author’s design for the manga’s progression.
But the author wouldn’t feel guilty. To them, all manga characters were pen-created. How could arranging their fates be wrong?
“My wording was poor. Sorry, this has nothing to do with you,” “Manga Consciousness,” lacking human shame, apologized promptly upon recognizing its error.
Su Bei reverted to his usual grin, as if the earlier cold anger was an illusion: “Since you admit it’s your fault, shouldn’t you compensate me for nearly pinning a murder on me?”
“…What compensation do you want?”
“Let me simulate my original death,” Su Bei said, pointing to Part 2’s last page, where his corpse lay in the bathroom, gears scattered around. “I think ‘I’ discovered something about the killer before dying.”
Knowing himself, he wasn’t one to instinctively use his Ability for protection.
His Ability, to him, was only good for cutting hardware store costs. For defense, his fighting skills were better.
So why were there so many gears around his corpse?
Only one possibility: he deliberately left them as a key clue for the protagonist. The gears’ number, placement, or shape might hint at the killer’s identity.
He must’ve seen the killer’s face or some identifying clue before dying.
Su Bei needed that clue now.
Two reasons: one, he feared the killer might target him again. Though he hadn’t seen their face, their ruthless nature might not spare him.
Second, knowing the plot ahead helped him plan and build his persona.
Notably, manga opening case killers typically served two roles. Either they’re quickly caught, hooking readers into the story and possibly introducing bigger plots like organizations or conspiracies.
Or they’re a long-term mystery, revealed only at the end.
Su Bei hoped for the former. The latter meant ongoing danger and possibly tangling with a massive entity, clashing with his “avoid trouble” stance.
Regardless, the clues “he” left before dying needed analysis to build his prescient persona.
Readers loved a character revealed as secretly all-knowing, and this was his easiest, only shot at setting it up without future manga previews.