I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 119

Chapter 119: I’ve Said My Piece. Who Agrees? Who Objects?

The old crew member watched as Zhang Yangqing walked in, holding a rice bowl topped with purple ketchup, and let out a sigh of relief.

But then came the problem—there was still a pale-skinned ghost in the room. How was his roommate, who had gone to fetch the antidote for him, supposed to deliver it without drawing attention?

The old crew member shot Zhang Yangqing a look, hinting for him to find a way to get the ghost out of the room.

Other chosen ones who saw this hint also racked their brains for solutions.

They all tried various excuses to make the pale-skinned ghost leave.

After all, if the ghost saw the old crew member taking the antidote, something unexpected would happen.

So, the chosen ones told the ghost things like, “The crew chief wants you to clean the deck,” or “There seems to be trouble outside, go check it out.”

Hearing this, the ghost cursed under his breath but still walked out.

Since the chosen ones used the crew chief’s authority to pressure him, and given the ship’s strict hierarchy, he had no choice but to comply.

Seeing the old crew member’s hint, Zhang Yangqing nodded.

Then he walked straight up to the pale-skinned ghost and said, “Get out. My roommate doesn’t like being disturbed while eating.”

Old Crew Member: “…”

Watching this, the old crew member was dumbfounded.

I asked you to find a way to make him leave, not to outright tell him to go! And aren’t you just exposing me?

Seeing the pale-skinned ghost storm over aggressively, the old crew member felt like he was done for.

I ended up with a useless teammate. I shouldn’t have asked him to fetch food.

But the next second, a crisp slap echoed through the room.

Even the old crew member jumped in fright.

The pale-skinned ghost was sent flying to the doorway with a single slap, his face full of shock as if he’d seen a ghost. Clutching his cheek, he scrambled out.

Zhang Yangqing sighed. Are these freaks just masochists? Do they only listen when I hit them?

“Here, eat this.”

He handed the purple ketchup rice to the old crew member.

Still stunned, the old crew member mustered his last bit of strength and wolfed it down.

After half the bowl, the toxins in his body began to fade, and he gradually regained his energy.

At this point, he studied Zhang Yangqing and said, “Thank you for bringing me the antidote. But how did you knock him out? He’s a pale-skinned ghost.”

In his understanding, pale-skinned ghosts were at their strongest at night, but even during the day, they were formidable.

Crew members were just ordinary-level entities—no match for a pale-skinned ghost.

Zhang Yangqing waved it off. “No need to thank me. It was nothing. Pale-skinned ghosts are nothing. I’ve killed plenty of golden-masked tourists.”

Hearing this, the old crew member froze, his half-chewed rice falling back into the bowl.

What? Did I hear that right? You can take on golden-masked tourists?

Golden-masked tourists, like department managers, were special entities—beings he wouldn’t dare challenge in his wildest dreams.

Around them, the old crew member had to bow and scrape.

Yet this guy made it sound like killing them was no big deal.

The old crew member’s mind was reeling. If his roommate wasn’t bluffing, then he’d hit the jackpot with this teammate!

In other words, sticking with this guy might actually keep him alive?

In most strange-tale worlds, the majority of chosen ones had to rely on the old crew member’s knowledge to survive, since he knew many of the ship’s secrets.

But in Zhang Yangqing’s case, the old crew member realized he was the one who needed saving—his roommate was the real powerhouse.

To prove his point, Zhang Yangqing called in the three golden-masked pale-skinned ghosts waiting outside.

“These three have sworn allegiance to me. They’re my lackeys now. I even gave them those golden masks.”

Seeing how obedient the three ghosts were to Zhang Yangqing, the old crew member finally believed it—his teammate was a literal god!

If he could handle golden-masked tourists, what couldn’t he do? The old crew member couldn’t even imagine.

Now, he had two choices: submit or die.

The old crew member was no fool. He could tell Zhang Yangqing’s polite tone didn’t mean he was actually asking for permission.

In other words, he was commanding under the guise of courtesy.

If he refused, the consequence was death.

Because in this world, there was an unspoken rule: if you learned someone’s secret and didn’t cooperate or obey, you triggered their kill condition.

Other chosen ones had to constantly gather intel, deduce the conditions under which entities would kill them, and avoid those conditions to survive.

But in Zhang Yangqing’s world, the entities were the ones trying to figure out his kill conditions and scrambling to please him to stay alive.

Frankly, any entity in Zhang Yangqing’s world with half a brain wouldn’t last long.

In most cases, understanding the rules of the strange-tale world helped chosen ones survive.

But here, the entities had to understand Zhang Yangqing’s rules to improve their survival chances.

The old crew member knew he and Zhang Yangqing were on the same side. If this boss wanted to recruit him, it meant he still had value.

So he happily pledged his loyalty.

After all, the boss had saved his life. If he helped him take over the ship, he might even get a promotion!

Zhang Yangqing didn’t mince words either. He outright stated his goal: to take control of the ship.

He’d already killed the crew chief—he just didn’t know where the captain or first mate were.

Finding them was the whole reason he recruited the old crew member.

Hearing this, the old crew member gulped.

Damn, this guy’s playing for keeps.

But as a veteran, he knew the rules.

Only someone with real power would dare say such things.

In other words, if his new boss couldn’t defeat the captain, he wouldn’t even entertain the idea of replacing him.

The old crew member took a deep breath. Tonight’s success or failure hinged on this man’s decisions.

Now that he’d pledged loyalty, he had to commit—that was the rule of this world.

Following protocol, the old crew member began revealing the ship’s secrets.

This ship was called the Mary, a cruise liner that appeared normal by day but transformed drastically at night. Mysterious “passages” would appear, along with “people” who were invisible during the day.

These passages led to strange places, including the bridge.

The nighttime entities only obeyed the captain’s orders and seemed “immortal,” like cursed sailors lost at sea.

According to the old crew member, they were former sailors who’d violated taboos and were doomed to serve as eternal slaves on the ship.

They patrolled the vessel, executing anyone who broke the rules.

Zhang Yangqing nodded. These were likely the ship’s hidden entities—few in number but extremely powerful.

As for the cursed sailors’ rules, they were outlined in the crew and passenger guidelines:

[Rule 11: If you see eyes staring at you through the window after dark, hold your breath until they leave.]

Since crew cabin doors had small windows, the cursed sailors could observe them from outside.

Passenger rules were simpler: after midnight, no one was allowed outside their rooms, or they’d be executed.

From this, Zhang Yangqing deduced that after midnight, the ship must hold some kind of treasure.

These hidden entities were its guardians.

Only the higher-ups knew what the treasure was—even the old crew member was in the dark.

After all, he was just a low-ranking sailor.

Here, the old crew member would offer other chosen ones strategies for contacting the senior crew members.

In this cruise ship scenario, the high-ranking entities of the crew faction hadn’t appeared yet.

But as a veteran, he knew this much:

After midnight, the ninth floor began to change.

Only one path led to the bridge. Chosen ones with intel could head there to seek out the senior crew members and have them handle the situation.

Other paths led to unknown places, so finding the right one was part of the challenge.

When Brazil’s chosen one, Edson, heard this, a strategy formed in his mind.

By now, he had a rough mental map of the ship’s ten floors.

He simulated each floor’s possible encounters and events, quickly drafting a survival plan.

Since it was already 9:30 PM and fully dark, the chosen ones could now see the glowing scars on the pale-skinned ghosts’ faces—visible only to them and the old crew member, though they couldn’t react to it.

The strange-tale world gave them over two hours to interact with the ghosts and record their ID numbers, which could be written on the blank pages of the crew manual.

The earlier battle between the crew and silver-masked tourists had thinned the ghosts’ numbers.

The chosen ones had successfully weakened their forces.

Edson, having already turned traitor, had an easier time mingling with the ghosts.

Once all their IDs were recorded, he could hand the list to the senior crew members, who’d deal with them.

As for reaching the ninth floor, waiting until midnight to take the elevator was risky—if the doors opened to hidden entities or other dangers, it’d be game over.

The smarter move was to go before midnight and find an empty guest room on the ninth floor.

If none were available, they’d have to make one—after all, the guest services manager wasn’t just for show.

This was likely the purpose of the master key the chosen ones had received.

Every tool they’d acquired so far served a purpose in clearing the scenario.

Once midnight hit and the ship transformed, they could leave their rooms, avoid danger, find the path to the bridge, submit their intel, and consider the night’s mission complete.

However, the ninth floor was also where the Bloody Mary cocktail was located—likely useful in some way.

With this in mind, Edson prepared multiple contingencies.

This was the standard strategy for ordinary chosen ones.

By using combat to reduce the numbers of cannibals and pale-skinned ghosts, they could significantly lower the ship’s threat level.

As for the two transcendent-level chosen ones, they had their own approaches.

Right now, Grigory’s side was a bloodbath.

Anyone with suspicious skin was immediately killed and thrown overboard—no loose ends.

In other words, in the two-plus hours before midnight, Grigory planned to eliminate as many pale-skinned ghosts as possible.

Then, at midnight, he’d seize the captain’s ID tag, locate the ship’s treasure, and consider the level cleared.

His method was straightforward: brute force.

Clean, efficient, and merciless.

Meanwhile, in the same timeframe, Zhang Yangqing had recruited over twenty crew members as lackeys.

Originally, he’d found thirty, but a few disobeyed. After tossing them overboard, the rest fell in line.

Using the crew chief’s authority, he gathered the crew in one place.

The recruiting work was handled by his underlings. Right now, Zhang Yangqing had to head upstairs—he wanted to see if the two golden-masked female tourists had any useful intel for him.

After delegating tasks to his lackeys, Zhang Yangqing went to the fifth floor.

There, the golden-masked women were waiting with a group of about a dozen people—likely recruits of their own.

Given their high status, many tourists were willing to assist them.

“Find anything useful?” Zhang Yangqing got straight to the point.

“We did. This ship is transporting a treasure called the Heart of the Ocean. It’s supposedly in the custody of the Twilight Hall’s manager. Normally, it’d be displayed in the Twilight Hall tonight, but the manager’s gone missing—which is strange.”

The golden-masked woman reported earnestly.

She and her companion had searched everywhere and even questioned other department managers, but no one knew where the Twilight Hall manager was. It was as if he’d vanished.

Zhang Yangqing nodded. Giving them the masks had been the right call.

Finding the Twilight Hall manager might be this scenario’s hidden quest.

But hidden quests usually came with extreme danger.

Even if other chosen ones learned of it, they’d only know—not necessarily act.

In this strange-tale world, aside from Zhang Yangqing, Grigory was the only other chosen one who’d uncovered this intel and had the ability to complete the hidden quest.

At this point, Zhang Yangqing had some theories but needed verification. He instructed the golden-masked women to keep gathering intel while he handled other matters.

By the time he reached the deck, aside from the crew on duty, the rest had assembled—over seven hundred people.

The deck was brightly lit, visibility high.

No one knew why they’d been summoned. Wasn’t this the crew chief’s order? Where was he?

As murmurs spread through the crowd, a figure emerged before them.

Clad in a sailor’s striped shirt, his posture was upright, exuding the oppressive aura of a true superior.

His mere presence commanded attention, as if he alone ruled here.

The crew fell silent, waiting for his announcement.

Clearing his throat, Zhang Yangqing spoke loudly enough for all to hear:

“Gentlemen, I bring grave news. Today, we’ve lost our most respected crew chief. But the ship’s operations must continue. We need a new leader to steer us forward!”

This was a major deal for the crew.

During the day, the crew chief was their highest authority, overseeing all critical tasks.

The senior crew rarely intervened, so the crew chief’s role was pivotal.

Without one, the ship would descend into chaos.

One crew member raised his hand, seemingly with a question.

Zhang Yangqing pointed at him. “Speak.”

The man asked, “How did our crew chief die?”

This was on everyone’s mind. All eyes fixed on Zhang Yangqing.

Zhang Yangqing nodded. “I threw him overboard. Any objections?”

Everyone: “…”

Damn, he’s not even pretending anymore? No excuses?

What kind of answer is that?

Zhang Yangqing’s bluntness left the crew speechless.

They’d never seen someone so direct.

As silence lingered, Zhang Yangqing continued, “Since you need a crew chief, I’ll nominate myself. I’ve said my piece. Who agrees? Who objects?”