A Novelist’s Guide for Side Characters to Survive

Chapter 14: “Ha, the great Chu Zu.”

The boy heard the man’s short laugh, unsure if it was an illusion.

When he looked up, Chu Zu still wore his usual scowl.

Chu Zu was truly clueless about raising kids.

He could soak in icy water unbothered, but a kid staying too long would only stiffen up, catching a cold at best.

The sensible move was to call Dai Xi’an immediately, have her drag the kid away, give him some preventive meds, or just jab him with a shot.

But Chu Zu let Sidney do whatever, sticking to his usual hands-off approach.

When Sidney, dazed, felt himself nearly fainting from the cold, he heard the man speak.

“Who do you even take after…”

The voice was so low it seemed like a hallucination.

Sidney mumbled, “I take after Daddy, of course…”

The man didn’t reply.

“Sidney’s such an easy kid to raise,” the system sighed.

“No hassle at all, and he says the sweetest things.”

Chu Zu sighed too, “Yeah, just a smidge below me.”

The system: “…”

It was slightly speechless, but considering how “Chu Zu” survived under Luciano Esposito, maybe he wasn’t wrong?

“It’s not just looks. He’s like his dad in other ways too,” Chu Zu added.

“You know, when he climbed in and hugged me tight, I almost saw his dad as a kid.”

The system was horrified: “You’re not gonna kill Sidney, are you?”

Chu Zu: “…”

Expecting the system to grasp human sentiment was indeed a luxury.

Whether Chu Zu wanted to kill Sidney was beside the point—the kid was practically killing himself.

Chu Zu had no fatherly instincts.

If he was cooling his nerves in icy water and the kid wanted to join, he let him.

After about two hours in the ice bath, Chu Zu figured it was enough.

He slowly got out, carrying Sidney to the living room.

Dai Xi’an, tense all night, had just fallen asleep near dawn.

Woken by the alarm, she stumbled out, bleary-eyed, only to see Chu Zu holding a deathly pale kid.

Her drowsiness vanished in terror.

Seeing Chu Zu’s face back to normal, Dai Xi’an felt numb, suffocated by despair.

A corpse three days dead might be as stiff as Sidney now, she thought hopelessly.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back. Sidney’s on you,” Chu Zu said, shrugging off responsibility.

Before leaving, he added, uncharacteristically, “Lower District kids aren’t that easy to kill.”

Dai Xi’an: …

How did this guy manage to make comfort sound like a threat?

After leaving the house, artificial birds still flitted carefree among branches, kids lining up to board cars, bidding parents goodbye.

The outside chaos seemed irrelevant to this community.

Even in turmoil, it maintained a serene, leisurely facade.

The situation was actually quite tricky.

For months, Luciano Esposito holed up in the Upper District, tallying his forces, while Chu Zu, between jobs, stayed home with the kid.

Only Tang Qi was scheming, abruptly sweeping through Lower District 13 and District 32.

Luciano Esposito’s setups in the Lower District collapsed almost entirely.

Unlike public-facing institutions, monitoring stations were Luciano Esposito’s nerve center for controlling the Lower District.

Two hubs going down simultaneously—what did that mean?

Yesterday afternoon, when Luciano Esposito got the news, he summoned all involved parties, including Chu Zu, who’d carved out time between jobs to ponder a birthday gift for the neighbor girl.

Those with access to monitoring stations weren’t low-status; they were usually Upper District powerhouses.

But they only dared wait at the Esposito building’s base, relieved at Chu Zu’s arrival, crowding him to probe Luciano Esposito’s mood.

What mood?

Furious, obviously.

“Anger on par with when he learned his dad didn’t pick him as heir,” the system said.

“Can’t figure it out, Little Lucio just can’t.”

Chu Zu was surprised: “You’re calling him Little Lucio so naturally now.”

The system no longer cared about phrasing.

With a plot point looming, it snapped into professional mode.

Sigh, too long raising a kid with Chu Zu, its search history was all “how to educate an illiterate child,” “is a twelve-year-old flirting good or bad,” “pros and cons of free-range parenting.”

Switching to work mode felt jarring.

“The sweep of the monitoring stations is a turning point in the story. Tang Qi goes on the offensive, gradually grinding Little Lucio into the dirt!”

“Then I’d better find a chance to ‘retire’ temporarily,” Chu Zu mused.

“Otherwise, I can’t figure out how ‘Chu Zu’ avoids openly betraying Little Lucio and still makes him lose.”

Eyeing the executives entering the elevator with him, he grew thoughtful.

“These guys… seem pretty capable. They’ve been building with Little Lucio these months. Maybe they should ‘retire’ with me.”

The system: “You… planning a massacre?”

It earnestly advised, “Leave a couple, or who’ll do your work later?”

Chu Zu laughed: “I’m not Little Lucio.”

The system considered—true, it was used to its host plotting… farsighted schemes silently.

As the elevator rose, it reminded him.

“Our ‘Physics Beast’ is still here. Use it if things get dicey!”

Chu Zu wasn’t scared, just sighed, “Looks like I won’t make it back for Brei’s birthday.”

Luciano Esposito called it a meeting, but it was a traitor purge, plain and simple.

With Jeeves unable to pinpoint culprits, his methods grew primal, brutal.

Everyone’s face was ashen, avoiding the blond man’s faint smile on the main seat, fearing a glance would doom their families.

Contact with multiple parties continued.

Luciano Esposito killed three long-time loyalists, still unsatisfied, sighing as he crouched before a trembling young man.

“Got any insights to share?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Luciano Esposito grabbed his collar, dragged him to the floor-to-ceiling window, and had Jeeves disable the edge lock.

In an instant, wind roared past the youth’s ears as he plummeted hundreds of meters, blood, bones, and mangled mechanical cables blending into indistinguishable mush.

As Luciano Esposito’s venomous gaze slowly turned to the next, Chu Zu stepped forward.

The four killed were already spent, no longer useful.

This one handled personnel across regions—he couldn’t die.

“How do we handle this?” he asked.

“Handle it…?”

Luciano Esposito’s tone was flippant, smirking as he redirected his fire.

“Right, I haven’t asked you. Last time you saw Tang Qi, did he know about the monitoring stations?”

Chu Zu didn’t answer, his gaze carrying something that irritated Luciano Esposito.

“Can’t answer, or don’t dare?”

Chu Zu stayed silent, his look unchanged.

Luciano Esposito’s smile faltered.

Who was he accusing?

That Luciano shouldn’t be purging the stations?

These months, Luciano had been lenient, almost indulgent, with Chu Zu, who hadn’t been as vexing as before.

Luciano thought the past was settled.

Did Chu Zu really think, just because he was useful, he could keep throwing up?!

Luciano Esposito, used to doing as he pleased, chalked Chu Zu’s concessions for Sidney up to his own generosity.

As an adult, he’d never restrained himself once.

Furious, he ignored everything and had Jeeves activate the device embedded in Chu Zu’s body.

But watching the man curl up on the floor, sweating coldly, Luciano Esposito found no satisfaction.

“Get up,” he yanked Chu Zu from the ground.

“I know you don’t feel pain. Don’t play this with me.”

Chu Zu opened his mouth, lips trembling: “Just… assume I leaked it to Tang Qi.”

He said, “I’ll handle… handle it… The others didn’t do… anything wrong…”

“Ha, the great Chu Zu.”

Luciano Esposito clenched his fist.

His heart raced, an impulse urging him to shut up—his words could lead to irreversible consequences.

But Luciano Esposito still heard his deliberately slowed, biting threat.

“I’m not rushing you, dear. I’m always patient with you. Don’t worry about Sidney. Twelve-year-olds are easy to raise, just like you were, right?”

Chu Zu’s face was nearly transparent, whether from the device or something else.

He braced the table to stand, his hand slipping, knocking over a frame with a digital photo.

The frame shattered on the floor, like the dreamlike stability of these past months, broken to pieces.

Chu Zu lowered his eyes, sweat-drenched lashes hiding his scarlet pupils.

He seemed to mutter “Okay,” or maybe he was too weak to say anything.

“I didn’t feel much. Jeeves knows restraint. But Luciano Esposito nearly killed the personnel chief. Who’s gonna coordinate Upper District forces when I take over?”

Chu Zu was hung up on this, dropping “Little Lucio” for his full name.

“Who spoiled his rotten temper?”

The system: “You did… maybe.”

“Sigh.” Chu Zu reflected, “Overdoing the character has downsides. Luciano Esposito has no one else to trust, keeps owing me favors. I almost feel bad for him.”

The rescued personnel chief was young but a cyber-sly fox, sharper than a honeycomb, never offending or currying favor, gliding through power untouched.

But as Chu Zu staggered out, he offered a steadying hand, whispering, “Stay safe.”

Chu Zu had the system note the others’ looks—yearning for “retirement.”

Or plainly, yearning for a politer boss.

“No need for that,” the system consoled.

“Sure, you’re rough on him, but he’s a scumbag to you too. We’re all out here, balancing our own books.”

“No, I mean I’ve trashed his boss' cred.”

On comforting its host, the system found a new angle.

“Fits perfectly. The author didn’t know when to stop, and wrote till it flopped. Not your fault at all—don’t feel burdened.”

Chu Zu: “…”

A system with such double standards… it was just too good!