Chapter 89

What could I offer? I hadn’t thought about that. I’d hoped to get something for nothing.

Sensing my intent, Manga Consciousness denied: “Your plan’s fine but too basic. Creating an organization from nothing is hard. How do I recruit people to share intelligence without something to offer? Only if you provide something unique can I attract stronger members.”

Fair point. Even for Manga Consciousness, plot involvement required effort. Using my eight- or nine-year-old self to form an organization without benefits was a joke.

I quickly found an answer: “Readers already believe I awakened my Ability early, right? Use ‘changing their fate’ as bait to hook them.”

The belief I’d awakened early had existed for a while, solidified when my Mental Energy became advanced. It hadn’t been useful, so I’d ignored it.

Until now, I realized its true value. I might have more chances to go back, making early Ability awakening crucial.

It was a fitting reward. Manga Consciousness understood: “I’ll handle it and won’t appear until the next manga update.”

It went silent. I suppressed my excitement, closing my eyes to rest.

Soon, a man called: “Kid, wake up! Don’t sleep!”

I opened my eyes slowly, pretending I’d just woken, yawning: “Uncle, what’s up?”

He gave a kind smile: “You’ve slept so long and don’t need the bathroom?”

I saw his goal. While I’d rested, the adults had split into two factions.

One wanted to wait for rescue or negotiate at the destination. The other aimed to escape en route while guards were lax.

This man was from the escape faction. Asking if I needed the bathroom was a ploy to slip away during my request.

I didn’t want to be the scapegoat. No doubt, such an escape would fail. If caught, I, the instigator—even as a used kid—wouldn’t be spared.

I shook my head: “I don’t need to.”

“You do. Go tell the drivers you need the bathroom, okay?” He coaxed, pulling a mint candy from his pocket. “If you do, I’ll give you this, alright?”

A real kid might’ve fallen for it, but not me. I asked innocently: “But I really don’t need to?”

Then, feigning surprise: “Is Uncle scared to go alone and wants me to come?”

Though admitting it was embarrassing, he needed a kid to lower the kidnappers’ guard. He nodded: “Yeah, it’s too dark outside. I’m scared alone.”

I gave a sympathetic look: “Mom says kids my age shouldn’t be scared to go alone. You... you should learn to go by yourself.”

Before he could get mad, I pulled a lollipop from my pocket, mimicking his tone: “If you go alone, I’ll give you this, okay?”

“Pfft!”

Uncle Liu laughed: “Look at this kid’s kindness. Don’t you feel dirty?”

As a stay-put advocate, he opposed the escape plan. Everyone knew a failed escape would implicate all, unless someone snitched.

But no one believed escape was impossible, so who’d snitch?

The man who’d tricked me glared at my innocent face, then snorted, discussing other plans with his group. He wouldn’t blame a kid for his failed scheme but didn’t think he’d done wrong either.

Seeing them plot again, I unwrapped the lollipop, sucking it to replenish sugar. I hadn’t eaten at the auction, and my stomach was growling.

I’d eaten dinner before the auction, but teens get hungry fast. Five or six hours later, I was starving.

“Let’s just pry the lock and jump,” a woman said impatiently. “Who can pick a lock? Be generous—it’s for saving us.”

Silence. Lock-picking was a delicate skill. Though legitimate, it was often tied to shady people, making it sound dubious.

Politicians wouldn’t admit to knowing it, even if they did.

I actually could pick locks. Such tricks were useful in a pinch, and I’d learned them. Others’ misconceptions? I didn’t care.

But now wasn’t the time to show off. I wouldn’t reveal I could pick locks. Honestly, I doubted their intelligence. Did they really think picking the lock meant they could escape?

The kidnappers were Ability users! Even I, an Ability user, could only escape alone. They were bold to try.

I misunderstood ordinary people. As an Ability user, I knew how vast the gap was—how powerful the capable were compared to normals—so I knew they couldn’t escape.

But these ordinary people didn’t. To them, kidnappers looked human, and many had guns. Modern thinking was that weapons solved everything. With guns, they thought they could bridge the Ability gap.

They weren’t entirely wrong. Despite enhanced physiques, most Ability users were mortal. Except for body-related or extremely strong Ability users, a gunshot could injure, bleed, or kill.

But stronger Ability users were rarely hit. Their dynamic vision let them react before being shot, dodging or using Abilities to save themselves. Unless ambushed, guns rarely harmed them.

Most ordinary people, even knowing Ability users’ strength, couldn’t fathom the extent. A few did, though.

The woman who’d spoken to me urged: “You don’t need to rush. They won’t let us die easily. Some of you have weapons, but they won’t do much. Stay calm and wait.”

Her plea didn’t sway the escape faction. A center-parted man mocked: “Women are just cowards. Stay and die if you want, but don’t stop us.”

A younger woman snapped: “Coward? There are women in your escape group. Why not call them out? A government official stirring gender nonsense—you’re done!”

The escape-supporting woman snorted: “Maybe I’m not a woman in his eyes, and the stay-put men aren’t men either.”

Her words escalated his bias against women to all stay-putters and women.

She didn’t let him retort: “If you’re so bold, stick to it. Say it to the media later. Let’s see how brave you are.”

“You... I was just talking,” he stammered, red-faced but cowed. He knew saying that publicly would end his career.

The hold fell quiet.

I pulled out my phone. I’d checked earlier—no signal. But reading manga and forums didn’t need one. This was a chance to check the latest update, ideally for info on our kidnappers.

Others, surprised I still had my phone, realized theirs weren’t taken. Seeing no signal, they put them away, disinterested.

Seeing my “study materials” screen, the woman sighed: “You love studying, even now. If my kid were this diligent...”

I humbly deflected, then read the manga. Most of it was mundane, covering midterms and the Campus Festival.

Such happy moments were useless to me but likely valuable to readers. First, the official grades were released...

Help! Without the forum, I wouldn’t have known the author posted the grades as intel! Was he human?

My good grades meant no shame. Mo Xiaotian, though... everyone knew her grades were bad, so no harm done.

Second, the characters’ horror movie cosplays were shown. Cosplaying horror roles made sense—other manga characters would’ve been weird.

After the cheerful slice-of-life, the main plot resumed. At the auction, the camera briefly showed me, Zhao Xiaoyu, and other minor roles, then focused on Jiang Tianming’s experience.

As a venue setup worker, Jiang Tianming was busy. His perspective revealed oddities: touched desserts, fleeting shadows, strange noises—like a horror movie.

The culprits’ methods were clumsy, or Jiang Tianming wouldn’t have noticed. But they had many tricks. Fixing one issue led to another. He’d replaced the desserts, but the water was the problem.

Mo Xiaotian’s side confirmed his claim: teachers were called away as bandits tried to storm in. These bandits were strong and numerous, keeping teachers tied up in combat.

After the break, Mo Xiaotian’s student patrol team was attacked. Some fought them, while others rappelled from the roof to steal items backstage.

Mo Xiaotian was knocked out, ending his scene.

Simultaneously, a classmate backstage shouted: “It’s gone!”

The next second, the lights went out, and the manga ended.

Reading it, I blinked thoughtfully. I’d misunderstood something. Those who took us weren’t the same as those stealing items.

The latter was clearly Black Flash—only they had enough strong members to stall teachers. The former’s methods were amateurish, unlike Black Flash’s style.

So, another unknown group took us. They weren’t strong but got lucky. Black Flash’s chaos distracted the teachers, letting them snatch us.

Realizing this, I was both amused and annoyed. If I’d known it wasn’t Black Flash and they were weak, I wouldn’t have gone quietly.

But escaping now was pointless—I’d have to find my way back. Better to follow them to their destination and see their goal.

Sighing, I opened the forum.

As expected, no plot discussion posts. The update was mostly slice-of-life with a brief main plot start, giving readers little to discuss.

One post aligned with my thinking, suggesting at least two groups were active.

Most were fanart posts, drawing various characters. Even me, Wu Mingbai, and Qi Huang, who showed no face, had art. Mine showed me lifting my mask, revealing most of my face. Qi Huang and Wu Mingbai’s were simpler—faces drawn on their headgear.

One post made me chuckle: “Why don’t Su Bei, Wu Mingbai, and Qi Huang’s cosplays show their faces? Author, stop playing favorites!”

Me: “...”

Believe it or not, we fought hard for that no-face privilege...

Poor author.

I only cared about forum posts about me or the plot. Seeing nothing, I closed it. As I did, the truck stopped. Everyone tensed, huddling in a corner, not daring to move.

The cargo door opened, revealing three people. A woman with a neat high ponytail wore brown leather. Two men had buzz cuts; one had a scar by his eye, looking fierce.

“Now...”

Before she finished, a politician fired a hidden gun at her.

“Bang!”

Everyone jumped, watching the bullet speed toward her. Inches away, it hit resistance, falling with a crisp clink.

The sound struck everyone’s hearts, making them shudder.

The attacked woman wasn’t fazed, smiling: “Wondering who to make an example of? Here’s our volunteer.”

She stretched her hand, and the shooter flew uncontrollably, his neck landing in her grip.

I instinctively activated my Ability, checking his Destiny Compass, and my eyes widened.

In all my time with this skill, I’d never seen a small pointer downward!

Before, small pointers stayed in the upper half—left for smooth, right for trouble. Now I understood what a downward pointer meant.

Death.

She snapped the shooter’s throat in midair, tossing him like trash: “I’ve killed the ‘chicken.’ You ‘monkeys’ better behave. Want to be the next ‘chicken’? I don’t mind playing butcher again.”

The scar-faced man barked: “Get down one by one, line up. No chaos, or I’ll kill you.”

Terrified by her display, everyone obediently jumped off. No one dared flee—her suction Ability crushed any hope of escape.

When my turn came, the woman paused: “Who grabbed a kid this young?”

The non-scarred buzz-cut man scratched his head, confused: “Me, I think... but I swear he wasn’t this small.”

With strong night vision, he’d taken the guests. I, the only teen among adults, stood out. I’d slumped on the table, hoodie up. He couldn’t see my face but recalled my build. I’d seemed much bigger—how was I so small?

I looked innocent and scared, hesitating to jump. Thanks to months of acting, I was a decent performer, my expression flawless.

The scar-faced man glared: “What’re you waiting for? Get down!”

To the other man: “Why fuss? Big or small, he’s here.”

I got off but was called aside by the woman: “How old are you?”

“Eight,” I said, making myself as young as possible.

Eight was young enough. She had no wariness, asking: “You came with a parent to the auction?”

I nodded, reciting my fabricated identity. My young age helped—she didn’t probe. Confirming I was a politician’s kid with some use, she waved me back to the group.

The kind woman whispered comfort, urging me to obey and assuring me my dad would come.

But my focus was on Uncle Liu. My sharp Mental Energy caught his gaze lingering on me.

He likely suspected my identity. Though I’d changed my hoodie’s pattern, it was still a black hooded sweatshirt, and I’d sat beside him. Such a coincidence would raise doubts.

He probably hadn’t thought much at first, but the buzz-cut man’s words reignited his suspicion.

No matter. He had no proof I was the blond teen who’d greeted him. Without evidence, he wouldn’t speak. Plus, if I was an Ability user, it’d be a boon for them.

Her gun was no match for Ability users. An Ability user in the group could ensure their safety.

Sure enough, Uncle Liu soon looked away, saying nothing.

While he watched me, I observed our surroundings. No wonder it was so desolate—they were driving up a mountain. A cliff was ahead.

A man’s voice trembled: “They’re not making us jump, are they?”

“Shut your jinx mouth!” the kind woman snapped. Others glared. They’d all considered it but hated hearing it voiced.

Once all hostages were off, the woman and non-scarred man approached. The scar-faced man set something up by the cliff.

Having seen Lei Ze’en’s Ability, I guessed he was drawing a teleportation array. Per Teacher Lei, teleportation was hard.

Unless gifted like him with [Teleportation], long-distance travel needed Ability items.

He was setting up such an item.

Seeing no trouble, the woman nodded, pleased: “Not bad, all obedient. See that circular pattern? Everyone stand on it. Cause trouble now, and I’ll push you off the cliff, no trace left!”

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