Chapter 31: “Go Ahead and Try—You Still Have a Chance!”
Compared to Zhang Yangqing’s relaxed demeanor, the seven other surviving “Chosen Ones” were enduring pure torment.
Those who made it this far were the elite of the elite. Now, they huddled in Room 3-2, shivering violently, their skin turning blue from the cold. The only warmth came from the foul-smelling coats they wrapped around themselves, occasionally blowing into their hands for fleeting relief.
Some tried moving slightly to stay warm but dared not make any sudden gestures, terrified of attracting the eerie wax figures outside. If provoked, those figures might fight desperately, and no one knew if the Frost Wax Statue could hold them off. So, most Chosen Ones chose to endure—just half an hour left. They could tough it out.
Meanwhile, international viewers were still reeling from Zhang Yangqing’s thunderous display of power, their minds buzzing with shock. None had expected the Dragon Kingdom to harbor such a godlike figure.
For Dragon Kingdom audiences, the excitement was indescribable. To them, Zhang Yangqing was the nation’s ultimate representative.
“So what if the Eagle Nation’s ‘Muscle Doctor’ cleared the stage with perfect rule exploitation? This Heavenly Master doesn’t just play by the rules—he rewrites them on a whim!”
Back in the wax museum, Zhang Yangqing ordered the goblin security guard to open the staff lounge door. Inside, the female apparition cowered in a corner, trembling—whether from fear of the goblin or Zhang Yangqing himself was unclear.
Zhang Yangqing had a few doubts:
- Could she speak? If yes, she was likely a high-level entity. If not, maybe just a victim.
- Why did she lie to him? Even if he destroyed the Frost Wax Statue, how could she harm him without an access card?
- Did she have a way out?
- Or allies outside?
Despite his seemingly reckless approach, Zhang Yangqing’s calculations were meticulous. His solution? “Try anything, and you die.” If over a hundred entities outside couldn’t touch him, she stood no chance.
As they entered, the goblin’s eyes darted around, still scheming escape.
“Seven steps away, lightning is fastest. Seven steps closer? Lightning is faster and more precise.”
He knew better than to fight back.
His plan? Flee while Zhang Yangqing was distracted by the treasure. But Zhang Yangqing seemed to read his mind—tossing him both access cards to open it himself.
Defeated, the goblin complied. He slid open a hidden panel, revealing a vault-like safe. Twisting the dial with practiced ease (he clearly knew the combo), he avoided even glancing inside. Once opened, he presented a small box to Zhang Yangqing with bowed head.
“Boss, this is the museum’s treasure… left by the old curator.”
“Good.” Zhang Yangqing took it without ceremony.
As they exited, the lounge transformed into a nightmare realm—snarling beasts in paintings, a chandelier like a hungering maw, and the once-timid woman now radiating malice. But the door shut, hiding the horror.
Then—BANG!
Zhang Yangqing reopened it.
The room instantly reset: the woman resumed her fragile act, the chaos stilled.
Pointing at a sofa, Zhang Yangqing ordered, “Carry this out. That stool in the security room’s a pain to sit on.”
With over an hour left and the main threat neutralized, comfort was priority. The goblin, eager to please, heaved the leather sofa effortlessly.
“Boss has taste! Genuine leather—way better than that rickety stool. Fits your status!”
“Drop it, and I’ll drop you with lightning.”
Zhang Yangqing showed no mercy. He knew this goblin would’ve killed him without hesitation if roles were reversed.
Before leaving, he smirked at the woman. “Still wanna try?”
She buried her face in her hands, silent.
His laughter echoed as the door closed—a taunt etched in arrogance:
“This is exactly how you should look when you see me.”
