NOVGO.NET Chapter 276 : Chapter 276
Chapter 276
Wait… there was one!
Suddenly, my eyes widened. I forgot Jiang Tianming’s ability—[Death Summon]!
Since acquiring two wanted criminals’ abilities during winter break, his ability count hadn’t increased. It was about time for progress.
This event had many ability user deaths. The Radicals and Conservatives genuinely wanted Jiang Tianming’s group dead, so they likely killed a few, intentionally or not. With lives taken, Jiang Tianming’s ability count must’ve grown.
I guessed his absence was for finishing off enemies or absorbing abilities. Taking in multiple abilities at once was like overeating—needing time to digest.
Curious about his new abilities, I continued the manga. I didn’t plan to post this guess on the Prophet account yet. I’d just boosted its presence last chapter—no need to spam.
The author likely wouldn’t reveal this seed soon, so I could wait. If no other chance arose for Prophet to shine, I’d use this to boost its presence.
The rest was known: Nightmare Beasts helped, betrayed, were defeated, and the Nightmare Turtle appeared.
Defeating the turtle relied on Jiang Tianming and Si Zhaohua’s ultimate moves, combined with Vixi Holy Land’s attack-doubling item, severely injuring it.
But as a defense-focused Nightmare Beast, even with half its body gone, it didn’t die immediately. In its final moments, it sank into the sea, flipping the island.
I realized why the island tilted—the turtle was propping it up. After its death, the imbalance persisted, causing the tilt.
My intervention to save the island was a comment climax.
“Is Su Bei making his move?!”
“He can change not just people’s or groups’ fates but an island’s too!”
“Su Bei’s so strong.”
“That whale! Did Su Bei summon it?”
“This works? The island’s saved?”
“Haha, a mere island? No problem for Brother Bei!”
“So cool! Witness the miracle!”
The next panel was a wide banner: everyone stood variably by the shimmering sea, the ruined island behind. The sunrise’s warm light bathed them.
The whale floated, spraying a beautiful rainbow. Beauty contrasted with destruction, everyone smiling—a warm, healing scene of survival.
But this wasn’t the final panel. The last was my sky-high dialogue with Si Zhaohua, blending everyday and extraordinary, marking the event’s end.
Finishing the chapter, I smiled faintly, in a good mood. The author had some conscience, acknowledging my effort without framing me, even highlighting my moment. If he kept this up, I wouldn’t mind contributing more.
Since this wasn’t a mainline plot, the forum had few plot discussions but many new posts. High-profile characters like Jiang Tianming and me had plenty.
Nothing special, but I clicked one as usual.
《The Rainbow’s Gorgeous, Su Bei’s Romantic》
[DingDingDangDangCatNo.0: Sometimes I think Su Bei’s a bit of a romantic. He could’ve just solved Vixi Holy Land’s crisis, but he added a rainbow, like a rose at a date’s end—so heart-fluttering!]
[No.1: The rainbow’s so romantic. The artist’s skill is top-notch, but it’s a pity not all S-Class were there, or I’d make it my wallpaper.]
[No.2 replying to No.1: The fanart section has what you want. Check it out.]
[No.3: From apocalypse to serenity, I almost cried.]
[No.4: Love these manga scenes—sunsets, rainbows, silhouettes. Clichéd but timeless.]
[No.5: The beauty of survival.]
[No.6: Yes, Su Bei’s so romantic! How could destiny not be?]
[No.7: Nice metaphor, OP!]
[No.8 replying to No.2: Where? Keywords?]
[No.9 replying to No.8: I know—search ‘rainbow.’]
[…]
[No.36: Hard to imagine Su Bei doing something so pointless.]
[No.37 replying to No.36: It’s surprising but not shocking—just delightful.]
[No.38: Hahaha, the man who never breaks character.]
[No.39 replying to No.38: As long as Su Bei doesn’t lose out, nothing he does feels out of character.]
[No.40: Could the rainbow be a coincidence, not Su Bei’s doing? He denied it.]
[No.41 replying to No.40: It’s definitely Su Bei. Who doubts his ability control?]
[No.42 replying to No.40: He always denies it but implies he did it. He said it’s destiny’s guidance, but his ability is [Destiny Gear]. What’s the difference?]
[No.43: Natural rainbows aren’t that easy. Who’d believe it’s not intentional?]
[…]
[No.79: Is there really a whale that big? Vixi Holy Land’s as big as some small countries. A whale half its size? I’ve never seen a real one, but logic says they aren’t that big.]
[No.80 replying to No.79: Mutated, probably. Vixi Holy Land’s sea and scenery mutated humans, so marine animals mutating makes sense.]
[No.81: One meteorite changed everything nearby.]
[No.82: Got a meteorite at home yet?]
[…]
[No.105: Hahaha, Su Bei being carried up is kinda funny. Si Zhaohua carrying Su Bei in the air.jpg]
[No.106 replying to No.105: Doesn’t our Bei need face?]
[No.107: Flying’s so cool. When I fantasize about abilities before bed, flight’s a must.]
[No.108 replying to No.107: Agreed! Flight’s the best!]
[No.109 replying to No.105: So cute, two adorable babies.]
[…]
[No.162: Every time Su Bei changes fate, I wonder how his ability works. How does he make destiny bend to his will?]
[No.163 replying to No.162: One of 《King of Abilities》’ mysteries.]
[No.164: From the name, it’s about adjusting a compass. Like a fortune-teller or feng shui master.]
[No.165 replying to No.164: Doesn’t fit his vibe. He’s a blond trendsetter.]
[No.166: Blond stereotype +1.]
[No.167: Didn’t the manga show this? Su Bei with round sunglasses.jpg. Fortune-teller confirmed.]
[No.168 replying to No.167: Kinda looks like it, haha.]
[No.169 replying to No.167: The hottest fortune-teller. Predict my love life, and if it’s wrong, compensate with yourself.]
[No.170: Your abacus beads are hitting my face.]
[No.171: Fine, I’ll get Brother Bei to predict mine too!]
[…]
[No.181: Ta-da! My fanart! Fortune-teller Su Bei with a compass.jpg]
[No.182 replying to No.181: Teacher, your efficiency’s insane!]
[No.183 replying to No.181: So good! I’m jealous of artists. Wish I could draw.]
[No.184 replying to No.181: Wow! Ancient-style Bei! So cute, can I have the original?]
[…]
Seeing the post’s title, I knew people would misunderstand. Sure enough, everyone thought I made the rainbow, deducing I had a romantic streak.
I was speechless.
The rainbow wasn’t a coincidence, but I didn’t make it—the author did. In the manga world, it was just a coincidence.
Whatever, it wasn’t bad. The author had me take the blame for so much; I deserved to steal some of his credit.
Done with the forum, I relaxed. The event was over, and I’d shone a bit on the forum while reaping rewards.
I took the All-Knowing Conch, my prize for saving Vixi Holy Land, from my storage space. A palm-sized black conch with spiral dark purple patterns, it was beautiful.
Only S-Class and Vixi Holy Land’s leaders knew I had it. I’d made them sign a confidentiality agreement. I didn’t want others knowing I owned such a treasure.
An innocent man with a treasure invites trouble. With my current strength, I couldn’t protect it if word got out. No ability user could in such a scenario—only major powers could openly claim it.
But if the news leaked, it wasn’t a big deal. I’d decided to store it in Destiny’s vault. As an intelligence organization, it made sense for Destiny to have it.
My membership wasn’t a big secret anymore, so this wouldn’t expose anything and would secure the conch. Plus, it could generate significant revenue for Destiny, which I, as leader, welcomed.
I wanted the conch not for immediate questions but as a safeguard. If critical unknowns arose, it might provide answers.
You might not use some things, but you can’t not have them. The All-Knowing Conch was that for me.
No matter the events, school meant classes. The next day, Qi Huang and others waited in the classroom, eager to hear about Vixi Holy Land.
Notably, Zhou Renjie had fully recovered. The All-Knowing Conch gave the antidote recipe, making his cure easy.
“Thanks, guys,” Zhou Renjie said, unusually shy, bowing sincerely, then apologizing earnestly to Wu Mingbai.
He’d suspected Wu Mingbai as a spy, one of the top suspects. Now, with Wu Mingbai’s help at Vixi Holy Land, he owed gratitude and an apology.
After pleasantries, Ai Baozhu excitedly recounted our days. The thrilling tale amazed those who didn’t go. Qi Huang said enviously: “Your trip was so exciting! I should’ve begged my family for a spot.”
“But it was dangerous,” Zhao Xiaoyu countered, glad she hadn’t gone. “Faction disputes, Nightmare Beast invasions—we might not have survived.”
“It was dangerous, but it ended well,” Ai Baozhu pulled out her phone, showing the album. “Look at the last scene we saw—Su Bei made the whale create this rainbow! Cool, right? I snapped it!”
The photo showed the whale’s rainbow from a first-person view, striking. Even cautious Zhao Xiaoyu said: “So pretty. I wish I’d seen it in person.”
Qi Huang got an idea, looking at me: “Can you recreate it?”
“No way,” I shut her down. “Where am I getting a whale from?”
No cook could work without ingredients. Besides, I didn’t make the whale. I never lied about it—destiny’s work wasn’t mine. I just guided the outcome.
Everyone laughed.
“By the way, Class Monitor, how’d the teacher react when you reported?” Jiang Tianming asked Mu Tieren curiously.
Mu Tieren’s face fell: “The teacher…”
Before he finished, Teacher Meng’s voice came from the door: “What reaction do you expect? Praise?”
He strode in, sneering: “Why didn’t you inform the academy about the danger? Love playing heroes?”
“I worried the academy wouldn’t act without evidence,” Jiang Tianming answered honestly, pursing his lips.
If they’d told the school and were ordered back without action, they couldn’t have continued resolving Vixi Holy Land’s plot without breaking rules.
He knowingly broke protocol, aware they should’ve informed the academy even without proof. But to keep adventuring, he stayed silent. Not just him—everyone who went did the same!
Teacher Meng had scolded Mu Tieren yesterday, thinking the class monitor bore the most responsibility. He hadn’t planned to scold the rest, but they’d walked into it.
“Risking your lives for adventure? Should I drop you at Black Flash’s headquarters for a real thrill?” Meng Huai laughed angrily. “If Su Bei hadn’t saved you, how’d you return?”
His tone turned sarcastic: “Oh, I forgot. Young Master Si Zhaohua, Feng Family Head, Miss Ai Baozhu—you’d all return fine, right?”
Those three had wealth, power, and life-saving items. They’d likely survive Vixi Holy Land’s collapse.
But the others? “What about Jiang Tianming and the rest? Confident you’d come back unscathed?”
“…” Jiang Tianming’s group fell silent. They hadn’t expected the danger to escalate so far—thinking it was just island affairs, not an island-flipping crisis.
Seeing their reaction, Meng Huai knew the answer, sneering: “Want to die? Just say so. I can arrange it.”
“Sorry, Teacher, we were wrong,” Jiang Tianming apologized first. “Next time we face danger, we’ll… try to inform the academy first.”
He was rational, knowing he might not manage it, adding “try.” But this half-hearted promise nearly made Meng Huai laugh in anger. Not even bothering to lie?
The others echoed Jiang Tianming’s apology, sincere but clearly unrepentant. Meng Huai knew taming these gifted students was impossible, so though angry, he didn’t dwell.
After a thorough scolding, feeling satisfied, he stepped to the podium: “Final exams are coming. Are you ready?”
Final exams!
The words stunned everyone. They’d forgotten, swamped by the semester’s events, almost losing their student identity.
Final exams felt so foreign!
Enjoying their shocked expressions, Meng Huai continued: “The finals have two parts: cultural exams and ability exams. The former covers math, language, and ability knowledge. The latter’s details aren’t out, but reliable sources say you might go to the Nightmare Beast world.”
“Nightmare Beast world?” They’d planned to groan about cultural exams but were shocked by the ability exam news.
They weren’t afraid—they’d been there before, and with teachers, it was safer. But others might not feel the same. Jiang Tianming asked: “All freshmen go?”
Since class divisions, they rarely interacted with other classes, but they knew freshmen’s strength. Even Class D might struggle with mid-level Nightmare Beasts. Sending them there was suicidal.
“No, just our class,” Meng Huai answered calmly. “You’ll test with seniors, scores recorded separately, not ranked with freshmen.”
As Si Zhaohua suspected, other freshmen classes weren’t qualified. They’d get a chance as seniors.
“Why test with seniors suddenly?” Si Zhaohua raised his hand. “We’ve always tested with our year.”
Their strength surpassed peers, but that wasn’t new. Why change now?
He wasn’t eager to dominate weaker students; the arrangement just felt odd.
Meng Huai found it odd too but, unsure of the exam details, didn’t know why: “Why so many questions? Scared? I can request you test with freshmen.”
Si Zhaohua shut up immediately.
With no more questions, Meng Huai checked S-Class’ past cultural exam scores: “Ability exam rules aren’t out, so no demands there. But for cultural exams, I expect no one drops below last time’s rank. Anyone who does attends Class F’s cultural classes for the first two months next semester.”