Chapter 82: If You Don’t Break a Few Rules, Are You Even a Superhuman?
The eerie little boy and the black cat had both appeared—clear signs that this Strange Tales world was dangerous.
In the world of Strange Tales, cats were incredibly powerful, a true double-edged sword.
Used well, they could help a Chosen One clear the dungeon. Used poorly, they could help a Chosen One reincarnate.
The moment the Chosen Ones opened the door, the black cat had already heard the noise.
Now, it crouched low, muscles coiled as if ready to strike.
It seemed wary of the Chosen Ones—or perhaps even hostile.
What was it like to lock eyes with this cat?
Its gaze was like an endless abyss, capable of swallowing a person’s very soul. A single glance could pull you into its depths.
For first-time Chosen Ones, their attention might still linger on the black cat. But veterans had no time to waste—they needed to find the rules first.
In this Strange Tales world, survival depended on uncovering the rules.
As the Chosen Ones approached, the cat sprang from the sofa and darted onto a nearby cabinet.
Its movements were swift, and its eyes never left the Chosen Ones, as if assessing whether they were friend or foe.
Or perhaps… sizing them up as food?
Soon, Zhang Yangqing spotted some text on the coffee table in front of the sofa—several written rules:
[Rule 1: There is nothing edible for you in this house. If you are hungry, go to the community cafeteria or supermarket. Remember, only a balanced meal of meat and vegetables can satisfy your hunger.]
[Rule 2: There is a black cat in the house. If it turns white, throw it out the window immediately.]
[Rule 3: If you hear unusual noises from the furniture, leave the house as soon as possible.]
[Rule 4: Be cautious with electricity and fire. If the house sustains major damage, the mission will fail.]
[Rule 5: Do not let the cat go hungry. If it appears starving, feed it quickly—it will protect your safety.]
[Rule 6: If a corpse appears in the house, dispose of it immediately. Otherwise, it will attract strange entities.]
[Rule 7: When going downstairs, pay attention to the hallway lights. Leave the corridor before the lights go out.]
[Rule 8: The bedroom is absolutely safe—but only if you are the sole person inside.]
This time, there was no opportunity for external communication. The Chosen Ones had to rely entirely on their own judgment.
While others were still puzzling over the rules or carefully analyzing their hidden meanings, Zhang Yangqing had already begun taking action.
He had deduced that several seemingly unrelated rules were actually hinting at one key presence in the house—the cat.
Zhang Yangqing reasoned that Rule 1, Rule 2, and Rule 5 were interconnected.
In the Strange Tales world, the black cat was extremely powerful—but only if it wasn’t starving.
A famished cat wouldn’t be able to fight.
And Rule 1 explicitly stated that there was nothing edible for the Chosen One in the house.
This implied that all the food in the house was actually for the cat.
If the cat was well-fed, it would have the strength to protect you.
At this point, Rahman, the seasoned veteran from the Pyramid Country, noticed a subtle detail. Though the rules didn’t explicitly state it, he could infer:
Rule 2 mentioned that if the cat turned white, it should be thrown out—likely indicating that it had been corrupted.
Rules that could be cross-referenced like this were usually reliable.
This was the hidden intelligence within the rules, part of the dungeon’s increased difficulty.
Meanwhile, Dr. Miller, the muscle-bound scientist from the Eagle Country, had an even deeper interpretation:
The cat couldn’t be too hungry—but it also couldn’t be too full. Only in this balanced state would it remain both combat-ready and capable of hunting.
If the cat was overfed, it wouldn’t be able to consume other things—namely, the so-called supernatural entities.
With this in mind, many Chosen Ones began searching the fridge for food.
Inside were braised meat, canned goods, ham, beer, and more—an abundant spread.
Just the sight of it made many Chosen Ones’ appetites stir.
Even if they weren’t hungry, they felt an overwhelming urge to eat.
They swallowed hard but forced themselves to look away.
They knew—this food wasn’t meant for them.
Right now, their goal was to gain the cat’s favor. If the cat viewed them as friendly, it would protect them.
As long as the black cat didn’t turn white, it was on the Chosen One’s side.
But then there was Andrew, the werewolf-blooded superhuman from the Ramen Country.
After reading the rules, he scoffed.
“Tch. What kind of bullshit rules are these? Rules are for the weak. I make the rules here.”
With that, he grabbed a can of food and a beer from the fridge.
He plopped onto the sofa, turned on the TV, ignored the black cat’s stare, and started eating.
He had watched the Dragon Country’s superhuman clear the dungeon—he believed superhumans should operate beyond the rules.
Other Chosen Ones feared supernatural attacks. But would a superhuman be afraid?
If the Dragon Country’s Chosen One could ignore the rules, why couldn’t he?
Not only was he a superhuman—he was a werewolf with hyper-regeneration. He could play this level however he wanted.
A mighty werewolf, relying on a black cat for protection? If word got out, he’d be the laughingstock of the supernatural world.
If you don’t break a few rules, are you even a superhuman?
Andrew felt the eyes of millions on him. If he acted timid, he’d disgrace the title of superhuman.
Breaking the rules was the hallmark of a true transcendent.
Others feared poisoning—he didn’t.
But before long, he noticed the TV screen starting to blur.
No—it wasn’t the TV. His vision was failing.
He tried to speak but found his jaw wouldn’t close properly.
Then, he heard a trickling sound.
Looking down, he saw a gaping hole in his stomach—as if his flesh had melted away.
The contents of his stomach spilled out, dripping onto the floor with a sickening plop.
It was grotesque.
His senses were fading rapidly.
He tried to stand, to retreat to the safety of the bedroom—but his body refused to obey.
With a thud, he collapsed face-first onto the floor.
His hyper-regeneration was working overtime, trying to repair the damage. If he could just reach the bedroom, if he could hold on for a few hours until the toxins dissipated, he might survive.
He clawed at the ground, dragging himself forward with every ounce of strength.
A trail of something unspeakable marked his path.
Then—a shadow loomed over him.
A four-legged black creature approached, its movements light.
It was very hungry.
When it opened its maw—the Ramen Country’s screen went black.
The entire nation was speechless.
“We thought sending in a superhuman would turn things around for us. Turns out he was just an idiot.”
“I see it now—he was trying to copy the Dragon Country’s Chosen One. But he failed miserably.”
“The Dragon Country’s superhuman understood the rules before acting. And he didn’t even eat anything wrong! This guy just assumed he was invincible and ignored the rules entirely!”
“I can’t tell if these people are serious or just clowns. Motherf—”
The Ramen Country’s experts were livid, slamming their fists on tables. Three consecutive humiliating failures had turned them into a joke.
Hyper-regeneration only worked if the injury wasn’t instantly fatal.
If the black cat ate Andrew, there’d be nothing left to regenerate.
The reason the cat hadn’t attacked immediately was simple—it was too hungry to fight.
But now, with Andrew incapacitated by poisoning, it saw an easy meal.
Because, as the rules implied—everything edible in the house was the cat’s food.
And that included the Chosen Ones themselves.
The surviving Chosen Ones would never guess—
While they were still cautiously exploring the house, someone had already played himself to death.
