I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: This Guy Takes Audacity to a Whole New Level!

The Chosen Ones lowered their heads and used their phones to snap pictures toward Zone C.

Last time, helping the little boy had spared them from confronting the Fierce Ghost.

In the world of Rule-Based Mysteries, fulfilling a supernatural entity’s request often provided some advantage—or so many believed.

Maybe this time, it’s worth a try?

But then, Eagle Country’s Chosen One, John, noticed something odd.

Zooming in on the high-definition image from his phone, he scrutinized the wax figures in Zone C.

There was something strange about them.

Several figures in the front row had nails driven through their feet, pinning them firmly in place.

“I get it now,” John realized. “This wax figure must be nailed down too—it can’t move. It’s trying to trick me into picking up its eyeball so I’ll break a rule. Then it can kill me. This is a straight-up trap!”

That was his theory.

This particular wax figure had more restrictions. It was preying on the assumption that helping = rewards, luring people closer.

John ignored its request.

But some Chosen Ones failed to notice the nails. The moment they returned the eyeball, their screens went black—game over.

The audience gulped.

So in this world, no good deed goes unpunished?

This single trap claimed eight more lives.

Twelve Chosen Ones, opting for caution, kept their heads down and left the exhibition room.

Why linger when they already had the map?

The rest hesitated, weighing risks and rewards.

Meanwhile, the entire world was curious:

What would Dragon Country’s absurdly overpowered Chosen One do?

The man who punched a Fierce Ghost into scrap wax was in a league of his own.

On screen, Zhang Yangqing finally moved.

Unlike the others, he looked directly at the source of the voice.

After identifying the culprit, he gave the eyeball a light kick—sending it rolling perfectly to the wax figure’s feet.

That precision could put Dragon Country’s national soccer team to shame.

Before the entity could react—

SMACK!

A crisp slap echoed through the room.

The wax figure’s head snapped to the side from the force.

By the time it processed the hit, Zhang Yangqing was already looming over it, his gaze like a vengeful god’s.

“Pick. It. Up.”

His voice was icy.

“I said pick it up. You deaf?”

Oh, you can’t walk? Fine. I brought it to you.

Now move those hands.

Zhang Yangqing didn’t care about tricks. If this thing dared attack, it wouldn’t live to regret it.

Under his overwhelming pressure, the wax figure actually obeyed.

It crouched, retrieved its eyeball, and popped it back into place—then froze, pretending to be an ordinary statue again.

The international chatroom exploded.

[I’ve seen ghosts scare people, but people scaring ghosts? FIRST TIME! How is Dragon Country’s guy this OP?!]
[Damn it, I just emigrated! Now my homeland’s producing legends? Dragon Country’s visa is impossible to get!]
[Oh my god. This guy takes audacity to a whole new level.]
[Wait… is HE the real security guard here?]
[Dragon Country’s Chosen One operates on a different plane of existence.]
[Relax, he’s probably a one-time fluke. No way he keeps getting chosen!]

While the world debated, Eagle Country’s John made his move.

Instead of returning the eyeball, he searched Zone C for incomplete wax figures.

Rule #7 stated:

“Many wax figures in the exhibition room are incomplete. If you repair them, you’ll be rewarded.”

His reasoning?

• D Zone was full of discarded defects.
• C Zone’s covered figures were likely under repair—hence the “do not touch” implication.

The eyeball-dropping entity confirmed it: these figures could lose parts.

And where there were missing parts, there were rewards.

John’s gamble paid off.

Near a Thinker-like statue, he found a detached ear.

After reattaching it, a key clattered to the floor.

Bingo.

He grabbed it and bolted.

Calm as he was, fear gnawed at him.

This place messed with your sanity.

The constant tension, the exhaustion—it wore you down.

Most hesitant Chosen Ones still avoided Zone C, deeming it too risky.

As for Zhang Yangqing?

He’d figured out the rewards system the moment he entered.

That’s why he’d ignored D Zone’s broken pieces and headed straight for C Zone’s covered figures.

His deduction was flawless:

• A/B Zones: Pristine, complete wax figures.
• D Zone: Useless junk, haphazardly piled.
• C Zone? The in-between—Rule #7’s goldmine.

The Fierce Ghost interruption was just a minor detour.

So out of 23 surviving Chosen Ones, only four secured rewards.

And apart from Zhang Yangqing?

The other three were brilliantly bold.

Stage Two’s toll:

• Start: 200 Chosen Ones.
• Survivors: 23.

A two-star difficulty with this casualty rate?

How the hell do people clear higher levels?

Yet seasoned viewers understood the Rule-Based Mystery world better now.

No longer fumbling blindly.

As the Chosen Ones stepped out of the exhibition room, their phones vibrated violently with an alarm.

Only sheer mental fortitude kept a few from heart attacks.

The notification read:

“Delivery Arrival.”

Since this was a wax museum, the delivery had to be new wax figures.

Rule #6 claimed the deliverymen were “good people.”

But everyone knew better.

The next trial was here.