Chapter 285: For Real, the Enemy Is Barely Alive—Just One HP Left!
Zhang Yangqing felt that since the identity was written into the rules, it was probably meant to hint that the Chosen One had better know who he was—otherwise, big trouble might be in store.
Once everything was verified, two judgment approaches would emerge.
First: if it was proven that the villa’s owner was a fake, then the next step was to investigate his true identity. There would definitely be unexpected gains.
To take it a step further, one would need to figure out just how he managed to become the villa’s owner in the first place.
If it was a case of wearing someone else’s skin, then naturally the Chosen One couldn’t pull that off.
But if it involved obtaining some kind of token or keepsake, then Zhang Yangqing might consider swapping identities for the fun of it.
Second: if the villa’s owner was genuine, then the focus had to be on finding the fake maid—who was surely the character hinted at in the rules.
Either way, by following the same method used on the old butler, they could deal with the old maid. That was the so-called “intel connection.”
“As expected of a world built on rule-based horror stories—there are actually recurring patterns here.”
Zhang Yangqing grumbled to himself. It seemed like this was still the tutorial stage. Not too difficult, really.
Good thing he didn’t say that out loud, or the dead Chosen Ones might have risen from the grave just to take a swing at him.
Sometimes, life and death came down to a single moment of judgment. Get it wrong, and you’d drop dead on the spot.
After parting ways with the old butler, the loli girl—shedding her usual dramatic antics for once—dragged the lounging Zhang Yangqing straight to his room and locked the door behind them.
Zhang Yangqing was a bit taken aback. What the hell? Since when did this woman become so proactive?
“Spill it. What exactly did you find out? Did that old butler tell you something?”
Her tone carried a mix of urgency and a hint of poutiness. If his answer didn’t satisfy her, she’d bite him!
Zhang Yangqing didn’t rush to reply. He sat down on the sofa, gave the dog a good head rub, and only then slowly began to explain.
He had noticed something off about the villa’s owner in several places. He suspected that the current owner might have been replaced by someone else—just wearing the same face.
“Now that you mention it, I do feel something’s wrong too. In the past, he treated things that his family held dear like treasures, but now he doesn’t seem to care much about them.”
The loli girl had met the villa’s owner only a handful of times, but even she could pick up on some inconsistencies.
However, her goal was to find the key to open the gates of hell, so she hadn’t given it much thought.
But it wasn’t just her—any Chosen One who interacted with the other guests would, more or less, hear hints of suspicion in their conversations.
This was the game’s way of constantly dropping clues to nudge the Chosen Ones toward deciphering the rules.
Some were slowly catching on.
As for those who couldn’t see it—well, danger was likely just around the corner.
The scariest part was that Zhang Yangqing hadn’t even needed the clues; he had already figured it out straight from the rules and was prepared to verify identities.
He decided to handle the verification himself. After all, the loli girl could still see, and she might miss some details.
Since the rules were tailored for the blind, a sighted person might run into issues.
That was also why Zhang Yangqing wasn’t treating her like the one-eyed kid from the last round.
The two chatted in the room for a while, until the eight o’clock bell chimed in the evening.
Time for dinner again—which also meant time for exchanging intel.
Chosen Ones who had seriously investigated the treasure would, more or less, have picked up something useful. At dinner, they’d share some insightful speculation to keep the other guests and the host satisfied.
Those who hadn’t done their homework would mix two parts truth with eight parts bullshit to bluff their way through. Sometimes they’d get stumped by a question, and all they could do was awkwardly admit they hadn’t looked into it enough, earning them disdainful looks from the guests and host—who probably saw them as freeloaders.
As for Zhang Yangqing, who hadn’t investigated anything at all? He just made up completely fabricated intel. The best kind of fabrication was about places no one else had even touched, making it hard to question his words. Even the guests and host wouldn’t dare say much.
That was the composure of a seasoned veteran.
After the Chosen Ones finished their reports, it was the other guests’ turn to share their findings.
The raspy-voiced old man and the gravelly-voiced middle-aged man presented results similar to this morning’s. They talked about some progress—numbers slowly beginning to connect—and both agreed that the treasure was likely outside the villa, though they weren’t sure exactly where.
Meanwhile, the loli girl and the long-haired mature woman pointed out that the treasure was hidden right inside the villa. It seemed to require a specific time and certain special conditions to be triggered.
That was what they had uncovered from the old master’s belongings.
They even presented a pile of evidence to back up their claims, making their arguments sound solid.
But of course, no one was being entirely honest. Everyone held something back.
For example, if you knew fifty percent of the information, you’d only share twenty percent. That way, people knew you were seriously searching, but no one could steal a march on you.
That was the guests’ game plan.
From this, the Chosen Ones could basically conclude that the two men had gotten it wrong—and even if they hadn’t, their findings were useless.
They were expendable targets.
The two women, on the other hand, were key to accessing the hidden treasure.
In other words, with enough intel and proper preparation, they could take out one of the guests tonight.
Dinner dragged on at a slow pace. After several meals, the Chosen Ones were starting to figure out which foods were safe to eat and which weren’t, based on their taste.
After dinner, with midnight still hours away, the Chosen Ones continued roaming the villa, busy as ever.
From the audience’s perspective, these Chosen Ones were just endlessly gathering information—useful or not, they’d collect it all.
One of the quicker ones had already made contact with the head chef and was barely catching up to Zhang Yangqing’s pace from this morning.
That person was none other than Ramirez, the Chosen One from Argentina.
His order of operations might have differed from Zhang Yangqing’s, but his progress was impressive.
Within the horror world, he hadn’t rested a single moment—either organizing intel or gathering more.
As for Zhang Yangqing, he was already preparing for the kill.
The reason the horror story gave each Chosen One a guide dog was to boost their combat capability.
During the day, the raspy-voiced old man had been hanging around the gallery, and the loli girl couldn’t pinpoint his room.
Now that dinner had just ended and the old man was finally resting after a long day, the loli girl quietly tailed him.
Her footsteps were naturally light, and with maids constantly moving about the villa, the old man didn’t suspect a thing.
Not long after, she returned to Zhang Yangqing’s room, having successfully located the old man’s quarters.
It was still fairly early, and there were plenty of maids around—not the best time to make a move.
So Zhang Yangqing sent the loli girl off to attend to her own business while he strolled around the villa.
Since the rules mentioned starting a fire, he needed to find a place with flammable materials.
Everywhere else seemed to be covered in that special material.
Zhang Yangqing even began to wonder if that special material was meant to be fireproof.
The book collection room was the best choice—because he had touched the books, and they didn’t have that coating.
By the time he finished these preparations, it was almost midnight.
Other Chosen Ones, like Zhang Yangqing, had all retreated to their rooms.
At this stage, some of the more capable Chosen Ones had even managed to get their hands on pollutants.
After dinner, Ramirez took his guide dog up to the seventh floor—to the room with the deer head on the door.
The old master’s former quarters.
According to the old butler’s intel, the substitute maid would show up around this time.
Ramirez had seen her here last time, and he expected the same tonight.
Before he even arrived, he noticed his guide dog growing restless and agitated—clearly upset.
Ramirez calmed the dog down, and it settled a bit.
Sure enough, when he opened the door, there she was—the substitute maid.
She was an anomaly carrying a source of pollution. Complete her task, and he’d get a so-called “polluted item.”
These items were basically potions from the old master’s room.
Because the old master was a pirate who had once sailed through a polluted sea where creatures had mutated terrifyingly.
Some fish had multiple heads, and the heads would devour each other.
The sight was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.
He had brought back some contaminated water for research. After decades of study, he’d finally developed potions that could neutralize the pollution.
But was he doing it to treat wastewater?
Obviously not. He wanted to use pollution as a means to amass more wealth.
Since he was the only one with the antidote, he could dump contaminated water anywhere he wanted.
Once normal water sources were ruined, he could sell the antidote and purified water at astronomical prices.
The area around the villa had once been the old master’s testing ground.
But fate had other plans. Before he could put his scheme into action, he dropped dead inside the villa. The new owner didn’t seem interested.
The Chosen Ones’ guide dogs had been infected upon arrival—which was why they were polluted.
As for why the dogs’ contamination worsened?
The substitute maid explained that she’d meant to treat them but had accidentally grabbed the wrong antidote.
Ramirez was speechless. If I had the skills of that Dragon Country celestial master, I swear I’d smack you right across the face.
But since he didn’t, he just said, “No problem.”
The maid’s task for him: kill one of the regular maids and bring back her headscarf—then the substitute maid could become official.
And once that happened, she’d let Ramirez in to get the contaminated water.
It seemed the maids couldn’t attack each other—an unspoken rule.
Just as Ramirez was about to head out and complete the mission, it hit him.
Wait a minute. Why should I kill the other maids? Why not just kill you?
After all, my guide dog doesn’t seem too scared of you.
To be safe, Ramirez first led the dog far away and asked if it could handle the job.
The guide dog felt a little underestimated. A substitute maid at this level? I could tear her apart easily.
As long as it wasn’t midnight and she wasn’t yet a full-fledged maid, she probably couldn’t mutate—he’d figured that much from their encounter yesterday.
That was exactly why she needed the headscarf.
The guide dog kept licking Ramirez’s hand, signaling it was fine.
“Good. Then at 1 AM tonight, you’ll have your first real combat test.”
Because before midnight, the Chosen Ones always felt like they were being watched.
The corridors seemed filled with peering eyes. So if you wanted to kill a target, you had to wait until after 1 AM.
During that window, when Chosen Ones moved through the villa, there were no watchful eyes—and no maids to be found.
So if you wanted to start a fire, that was the time to do it.
At 12:30, the usual noisy knocking began—half an hour of torment every single night. No more, no less.
Most Chosen Ones could only endure it until it passed.
Better to avoid conflict whenever possible.
Because even the guide dogs were wary of the presences outside.
The mutated maids were extremely dangerous.
This time, Zhang Yangqing’s door only got knocked twice before he heard footsteps running away.
It seemed the knocking anomalous maid had learned her lesson from last time—but since the rules forced her to knock, she’d give two quick raps and bolt, terrified of getting caught by Zhang Yangqing.
Zhang Yangqing found her quite sensible. We’re all just following the rules—you don’t make things hard for me, and I won’t make things hard for you.
Once 1 AM rolled around, the slower Chosen Ones could finally sleep.
They hadn’t even prepared for a kill, and some of the laggards didn’t even know about it yet.
The faster ones, though, opened their doors and let the anomalous maids leave.
Then they faced the empty corridor—either waiting for prey to come to them or going on the offensive.
Only 39 Chosen Ones had managed to keep up with Zhang Yangqing’s pace.
Surprisingly, the holy knight Sidney from Ramen Country chose to rest.
Whether he hadn’t figured it out or was just playing it safe was unclear.
Ramirez had a clear goal: get the contaminated water first.
When he reached the seventh floor, he let the guide dog off its leash to move on its own.
He didn’t want the leash to get grabbed mid-fight and cost him the victory—details mattered.
Just then, the guide dog’s appearance changed.
Its floppy ears stood upright. Fangs and claws grew rapidly.
Most terrifying of all—its fur hardened like armor.
When he reached the deer-head door and opened it, the guide dog lunged instantly.
The substitute maid hadn’t expected him to play so dirty. She got caught off guard.
Here’s a key survival tip: when your guide dog is fighting a native, stay out of the combat zone, or you might get caught in the crossfire.
The dog could win, but that didn’t mean you’d be safe.
So the moment the dog charged in, Ramirez slammed the door shut and pressed his ear against it, listening to the sounds of battle until they stopped—then a bark. Only then did he open the door.
Whatever noises occurred, nobody else seemed to care—you could tell from the anomalous maids’ knocking patterns.
These were the most basic hidden rules—essential survival skills for veterans of the horror world.
When Ramirez stepped back inside, the guide dog was wagging its tail and rubbing against his pants, clearly seeking praise.
Seeing his partner so capable boosted Ramirez’s confidence immensely.
After showering the dog with praise, he successfully retrieved the contaminated potion.
Both the contaminated water and the antidote could be handled by the guide dog, since it understood human speech.
It could nod or shake its head to communicate with the Chosen One.
Now came the trickier part—dealing with the dangerous guests.
This was where Ramirez made his biggest mistake of the entire horror story—one that nearly cost him his life.
With the item secured, he naturally returned to his room to wait.
Ramirez was a tough guy. He planned to finish everything in one night.
So after dinner, he had arranged to meet the gravelly-voiced middle-aged man at 2 AM in his room.
He claimed to have important clues—and to avoid detection, a late-night conversation was best.
The middle-aged man agreed.
At the stroke of 2 AM, there was a knock on Ramirez’s door.
The reason he was wrong: other Chosen Ones had placed their dogs at the entrance, ready to spring an ambush when the man walked in.
That would trigger a special scenario—the guide dog would become fearful and defensive.
If the Chosen One noticed, they’d abort the attack.
The gravelly-voiced man was weak during the day—but that didn’t mean he was weak at night.
Ramirez had prepared “thoroughly.” He smeared contaminated water on the doorknob, ensuring the man would touch it upon entering.
He locked the guide dog in the bathroom, planning to let it out once the contamination took effect, using “going to the bathroom” as an excuse.
But what he didn’t expect was the man immediately sensing something wrong upon entry. After a furious curse, he launched a direct attack.
One heavy blow sent Ramirez flying. The sound of snapping bones echoed through the room.
Luckily, he was knocked straight to the bathroom door. Ramirez managed to open it.
Sensing its master in danger, the guide dog burst out.
With his last bit of strength, Ramirez crawled into the bathroom.
The contaminated middle-aged man’s combat power had dropped, and after a short fight, the guide dog finished him off.
“If I hadn’t picked up some skills outside, that hit would’ve caved in my chest.”
Ramirez had won—but barely. He was a wreck. Even getting up was a challenge.
Just as Argentine viewers worried whether he could continue tomorrow, because he was also an SS-rank clearer, he had a skill called “Self-Healing” that rapidly restored injuries.
Without it, he’d be bedridden for the next two days.
In the horror world, getting injured was a major taboo.
At this stage, two Chosen Ones misjudged the situation. They let their guide dogs attack without using contaminated water—the dogs were torn in half, and the Chosen Ones’ heads were smashed to pulp, painting bloody red spider lilies on the walls.
Meanwhile, sixteen Chosen Ones successfully pulled off their kills. Some were superhumans who could fight on their own. Others had gotten contaminated water and had their guide dogs ready in the living room, striking at just the right moment.
Most of the rest had noticed the danger and backed off in time.
The dogs had performed remarkably well tonight. And Zhang Yangqing’s dog, enhanced to boot, was ready to show its stuff.
Man and dog, with the loli girl in tow, arrived at a room on the sixth floor.
Zhang Yangqing knocked on the raspy-voiced old man’s door, claiming he’d discovered a secret and wanted to discuss it.
The old man was already wary of him. When he opened the door, a terrifying aura exploded outward.
A creature straight out of a nightmare appeared under the moonlight, conjuring legends from the depths of the viewers’ minds.
The old man looked like an old, withered leather bellows, even more slack than during the day—his flesh seemed about to peel off.
His eyes, in particular, burned like two red-hot coals, gleaming with cunning and malice.
The horrific, oppressive presence he exuded was like opening the gates of hell and glimpsing the demons within.
The loli girl immediately tensed up, her expression grim—she dared not let her guard down for a second.
Even the guide dog’s eyes turned savage, bristling as it fought back against the overwhelming pressure.
Clearly, the dog that had been so confident just moments ago now felt like it was facing a deadly foe.
The sight had viewers terrified. If the gravelly-voiced man was this strong after mutation, this old man was on another level entirely.
Any other Chosen One choosing to kill him would’ve walked straight into a death trap.
But in the face of absolute power, what use was wariness?
The old man had been doomed from the moment he crossed paths with Zhang Yangqing.
Zhang Yangqing was pure ruthlessness. After entering, he didn’t waste a single word.
Once he’d pinpointed the breathing, a single finger strike pierced straight through the old man’s brow.
The speed was so fast that even the loli girl behind him didn’t react—let alone the old man himself.
You might have been on guard. You might have been ready. But in the end, you’re still dead.
That was the confidence of a top-tier powerhouse—a destructive force that left viewers chilled to the bone.
And mind you, Zhang Yangqing had used his right hand to form seals and his left to attack—clearly holding back.
Thud.
The old man hit the floor, still barely alive—Zhang Yangqing had left him that way on purpose.
He turned to the guide dog and said, “Go ahead. He’s all yours.”
For real—the enemy’s barely alive, just one HP left!
The guide dog stared in utter disbelief. Boss, are you disrespecting my profession or what?
I’m a guide dog! I’m your weapon! Your main asset!
Gone? That terrifying old man is just… gone?
But honestly? If you’re making me fight something that scary, I’d rather not be respected!
