I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 124

Chapter 124: Did You Think This Was an Adventure Game Where You Could Reload Saves? 

“Why is he so addicted to playing captain?”

Gregorio couldn’t comprehend why the Dragon Country’s supernatural was meticulously performing the captain’s duties.

In his view, the Strange Tales world was about completing tasks, securing hidden treasures, and exiting as quickly as possible.

That was his understanding of how to clear the instance.

As long as you knew the exit conditions, speed was the optimal strategy.

Was all this post-mission cleanup really necessary?

Gregorio didn’t believe going the extra mile would boost his rating.

Most shared his perspective, baffled by the Dragon Country’s supernatural’s refusal to exit.

Especially the challengers who had barely survived the cruise’s horrors—their lingering fear made them shudder at the thought of staying longer.

For them, survival had hinged on sheer mental fortitude and luck.

Among the standout performers was Edson from Soccer Country. After exiting, he had been studying the Dragon Country’s footage.

While others remained confused, he reached a startling conclusion:

“Is this supernatural from the Dragon Country… actually hunting for the Abyssal Specter’s treasure?”

Comparing the Dragon and Pasta Country’s recordings, only their challengers had interacted with the Twilight Hall manager and obtained the clue.

Gregorio had dismissed it as a trap, opting for a swift exit.

By his logic, the cruise ship was the “adventure zone”—the only place with known death and exit rules.

Venturing elsewhere risked triggering unknown lethal conditions.

Gregorio wasn’t reckless; his choice was calculated.

But just as the world assumed the Dragon Country’s supernatural would exit after tidying up the ship—

A chilling development unfolded.

The Mary set sail again, leaving the port behind.

The abrupt turn stunned everyone.

Dragon Country’s viewers, who had assumed victory was secured with an SSS-rank clear, now watched in disbelief.

Their Heavenly Master had one last act.

At Dragon-Tiger Mountain, a Taoist in cyan robes frowned.

“Eldest Senior Brother, has the Heavenly Master gotten too into his captain role?”

His implication was clear: Was Zhang Yangqing having too much fun to leave?

Yet Su Muyu, who should’ve been furious, remained eerily calm.

“No. Junior Brother knows his limits. He must’ve discovered something—just like how he uncovered hidden rules before.”

To Su Muyu, Zhang Yangqing’s laziness was a facade. Every action had purpose.

Some truths were only perceptible inside the instance.

His cryptic response spared him potential embarrassment if Zhang Yangqing’s gamble paid off.

The other disciples nodded vaguely.

But Gregorio refused to buy it.

To him, the Strange Tales world was just an elaborate dungeon.

How could the Dragon Country’s player “innovate” here?

Eager to claim superiority, he nearly let pride cloud his judgment—until he noticed something odd on the broadcast.

As a former captain, he recognized the navigational charts.

Initially, only Buro Port was marked. Now, the map detailed islands, reefs, and depths.

Through the window, other ships were visible.

A realization struck Gregorio:

This instance never specified an exit timeline.

Was that a hint to explore for more treasures?

But the rules hadn’t encouraged it—though they hadn’t forbidden it either.

“Is that his play?”

Gregorio’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t worried for the Heavenly Master—he feared becoming the clown if the treasure was real.

Silently, he prayed to his god for Zhang Yangqing’s downfall.

Inside the Strange Tales World

Seated on the captain’s throne, Zhang Yangqing pondered an experiment.

Everyone assumed he sought the Abyssal Specter’s treasure.

In truth, he was testing role transition mechanics.

As captain, he lacked the captain’s rulebook.

But revisiting the initial prompt, one line stood out:

[In this world, you will roleplay as a crew member. Stay alert to uncover rules and survive.]

The key word was roleplay.

Zhang Yangqing theorized:

• Identity Assignment: The Strange Tales world assigns a role (e.g., crewman).

• Role Transition: To switch roles (e.g., captain), one must obtain the new identity’s token (here, the captain’s badge).

• Role Fulfillment: Merely holding the token isn’t enough. You must act the part.

This aligned with his prior experience in The Haunted Apartment.

There, the hidden clear condition was:

[Complete ‘I Am the Landlord’ by posting rental ads at the community entrance.]

Only by performing the landlord’s duties could he exit.

Thus, Zhang Yangqing now sought to answer:

What defines a “captain” in this world?

• Total nautical miles sailed?

• Command hours logged?

• Passengers safely delivered?

Regardless, he’d follow the scheduled route—while incidentally hunting the treasure.

The Mary cycled between three ports:

1. Buro Port (Departure)

2. Xiali Port (Current destination)

3. Yavi Port

According to the Twilight Hall manager, the Abyssal Specter’s treasure lay en route.

This was why Gregorio had ignored the clue—he feared risks. Zhang Yangqing didn’t.

…..

The Experiment Unfolds

By Day 5, Zhang Yangqing’s routine was indistinguishable from a veteran captain’s:

• Morning briefings

• Ship inspections

• Delegating tasks

Night brought eerie oceanic phenomena, but none threatened the Mary.

Then, the second mate—his former roommate—voiced concerns:

“Captain, the manager’s ‘treasure’ is a myth. I’ve sailed these waters for decades—it doesn’t exist.”

Zhang Yangqing dismissed him:

“We’re almost there. If it’s fake, he’ll wish for death.”

The bridge crew broke into cold sweat.

Their captain’s calm menace was more terrifying than any storm.

Soon, fog engulfed the ship—a navigational nightmare.

Yet Zhang Yangqing smiled.

Fog meant a hidden zone, visible only to those who followed its rules.

Summoning the Twilight Hall manager, he confirmed the theory:

The manager could pierce the fog, guiding the Mary past shipwrecks toward the heart of the mist.

Gregorio, watching, scoffed:

“The Heavenly Master took the bait. If this is a trap, he’s finished.”

Many hoped Zhang Yangqing would fail, validating their early exits.

But at dawn, the fog parted—revealing an island crowned by a derelict pirate ship.

The Abyssal Specter.

Passengers and crew rushed to the deck, awestruck.

Zhang Yangqing, however, watched for something else.

A prompt flashed:

[Legendary Treasure Discovered! Captain Roleplay Progress +20% (Total: 59%)]

So, I was at 39% before.

His hypothesis was correct: Roleplay progress increased by performing captain-like actions.

At 100%, he might unlock a role switch.

While the crew clamored to board the ghost ship, Zhang Yangqing ordered the manager to retrieve some treasure—a baffling move.

The second mate warned:

“Captain, that ship might hold power-ups. What if he betrays us?”

Zhang Yangqing’s reply silenced them:

“It doesn’t matter what he finds. I can reduce this island to rubble.”

His absolute confidence was a weapon itself.

The manager, having witnessed Zhang Yangqing’s power, wouldn’t dare rebel.

Facing a human nuke, no treasure was worth defiance.

The World Reacts

Dragon Country’s viewers erupted:

• “Heavenly Master Zhang is unstoppable! The first to find a legendary treasure!”

• “Of course he’d uncover hidden mechanics—who doubted him?”

• “Fortune favors the bold. Cowards starve.”

• “Some watched his replays, memorized ‘tactics’, and now think they’re smarter than him. Pathetic.”

Meanwhile, in the Vatican:

“Your Holiness, can I re-enter? I could find that treasure too!” Gregorio pleaded.

Pope Urban’s retort was icy:

“Did you think this was an adventure game where you could reload saves? You killed the quest-giver. There’s no ‘retry’.”

Gregorio’s face burned.

His kill-everything approach had locked him out of the treasure—a humiliation amplified by his earlier taunts.

Pasta Country’s viewers, who’d gloated prematurely, were now the jesters.

The Final Test

Two hours later, the manager returned with chests of loot.

Zhang Yangqing distributed rewards, securing loyalty.

Then, another prompt:

[Crew Recognition Achieved! Roleplay Progress +30% (Total: 89%)]

Approval accelerates progress?

Zhang Yangqing filed this insight for future runs.

But danger struck as the Mary exited the fog.

A pirate armada—over a dozen warships—blocked their path.

The Mary, unarmed, faced annihilation.

The first mate panicked: “Captain, we must evade their firing range! Turn now!”

Zhang Yangqing’s solution was simpler:

“Or I sink them first.”

Stepping to the bow, he raised a finger.

Golden light erupted—a dragon-shaped beam obliterating three ships instantly.

The resulting tsunami swallowed the rest.

One gesture. One victory.

By the time the Mary reached Yavi Port, the final prompt arrived:

[Captain Roleplay Progress: 100% (Switch Unlocked)]

[Warning: Switching roles alters death/exit rules.]

Zhang Yangqing didn’t activate it.

This was a test. The real application awaited future instances.

On Day 8, he finally exited—leaving the world in awe.

Gregorio’s envy was palpable.

He’d grinded for a speedrun. Zhang Yangqing had vacationed through the instance.

The difference wasn’t just skill—it was mastery.