I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Welcome to the World of Rule-Based Mysteries!

[The Rule-Based Mystery Game has now begun. Each nation will select one “Chosen One” to enter the game world.]

[If the selected Chosen One dies, the mystery’s horrors will randomly manifest in one of their country’s cities.]

[If a country fails ten times in a row, the horrors will engulf the entire nation.]

[The Mystery World is now loading… Current scenario: The Midnight Wax Museum.]

[Current difficulty: Two stars.]

[In this world, you will take on the role of a security guard. Stay sharp, uncover the rules hidden in this scenario, and use them to survive.]

As Zhang Yangqing stared at the rules before him, he fell into deep thought.

“So… I’m the Chosen One this time?”

Two years ago, Zhang Yangqing had crossed over into this world, becoming a junior Taoist priest at Longhu Mountain (Dragon-Tiger Mountain). There, he awakened an unparalleled gift for enlightenment.

After two years of cultivation, Zhang Yangqing had earned the recognition of the previous Heavenly Master and inherited his title.

On the very day the old master passed the mantle to him, he ascended to the heavens in a blaze of light.

But that same night, a sinister crimson moon appeared in the sky.

The Rule-Based Mysteries descended upon the world.

If the Chosen One succeeded, their nation would be rewarded with fortune and resources.

If they failed, the horrors from the Mystery World would invade reality.

During this time, over a dozen Chosen Ones from the Dragon Nation had already been dragged into the game.

At first, the scenarios were simple—designed to teach players the rules—so the success rate was high.

Many people even boasted, “I could’ve done that!”

But as the difficulty increased, casualties among the Chosen Ones piled up. Some rounds ended in total annihilation.

Globally, millions had already perished under the horrors’ onslaught.

Panic had seized many nations.

Currently, the Dragon Nation’s Chosen Ones had failed eight times in a row.

Two more failures, and the horrors would consume the entire country.

The atmosphere in the Dragon Nation had sunk to an all-time low.

Some people trained relentlessly, preparing in case they were chosen—if not for glory, then at least for survival.

Others gave up entirely, reasoning that with such a large population, the odds of being picked were slim.

A few even fled to nations with higher success rates.

And today… the Dragon Nation had suffered its ninth failure.

Despair spread like wildfire. Online, a trending topic emerged:

#Is There Any Hope Left for the Dragon Nation?#

The comments beneath were heavy with grief:

“Praying the next one’s a special forces veteran. Otherwise, we’re doomed.”

“Ugh, why do other countries get athletes and fitness experts, while we keep getting these losers?”

“That fifth guy had it in the bag, but he got cocky at the last second and screwed us all!”

“Nine failures already… How can a mighty nation like ours have no one capable?”

“Lol, why should I care? Just got my Sakura Nation visa. Flying out tonight—bye, suckers!”

“Go to hell! Sakura’s on a six-loss streak too. Don’t come crawling back when we find a prodigy.”

“Ignore these traitors. The more they leave, the stronger we become. I still believe in the Dragon Nation!”

“I’ll stand with my country to the end. Better to die singing in the rain than beg for scraps under a roof!”

Soon, the tenth Chosen One was forcibly summoned into the game.

And this time… it was none other than Zhang Yang, the Heavenly Master of Longhu Mountain.

Midway through telling a fortune, he suddenly found himself inside the Rule-Based Mystery World.

Before him was a cluttered, dimly lit security room with yellowed walls.

Dust coated every surface except the path to the door.

An old desk, a rusted metal cabinet, and a musty security uniform hanging on a rack completed the grim picture.

Now dressed in that very uniform, Zhang Yangqing stood silently in the room.

Outside, the night was pitch-black. The flickering bulb overhead cast feeble light, its glow weakened by years of accumulated grime.

Occasionally, the flapping of unseen creatures outside made some Chosen Ones jump—or even slam into the wall in terror.

Unlike watching others play on a screen, being alone in this eerie place, surrounded by darkness and the unknown, was paralyzing.

One wrong move meant death.

Most ordinary people would’ve been petrified.

Some trembled uncontrollably, unable to move.

Others fainted outright.

A few curled into fetal positions, muttering, “Why me?” or “Am I going to die?”

Once all Chosen Ones had entered, viewers worldwide tuned in to their respective national broadcasts, praying their country had lucked out with a capable candidate.

After all, The Midnight Wax Museum was a two-star difficulty scenario.

The previous one, rated one-and-a-half stars, saw only 17 successes out of 200 nations.

This time, the number of survivors might be in the single digits.

When a muscular Chosen One appeared, their nation breathed a sigh of relief—strength often meant survival.

When a sharp-eyed strategist stepped in, hope surged—these types, like Eagle Nation’s “Muscle Scholar,” had a knack for bending the rules to their advantage.

But some nations weren’t so lucky.

The Dragon Nation’s audience, in particular, paled at their Chosen One’s appearance.

Zhang Yangqing was… handsome.

Strikingly so.

In an idol competition, his looks would’ve been an asset.

But here? In a life-or-death game?

Historical data wasn’t kind to pretty faces—their survival rate was a dismal 0.1%.

Meanwhile, nations like Bear Nation celebrated as a hardened convict entered the game, his cunning and brutality perfect for this twisted world.

Dragon Nation’s viewers felt their hearts sink.

“Our last hope… is this guy?”

Comments flooded in:

“Why him?! Even the last guy was better! Is heaven abandoning us?”

“I’d have a 10% chance. This guy’s a death sentence!”

“Why is our fate in the hands of someone like this? Unfair!”

“If it were a military legend, fine. But this? I can’t accept it!”

“Wait… why does he look so calm? Is he… smiling?”