I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 125

Chapter 125: Cataclysmic Apocalypse—A Hellish Difficulty Start!

[Congratulations to the chosen one from Ramen Nation for clearing the ‘Mary Cruise’ anomaly. Rating: SSS]

• Standard Reward: One city afflicted by anomalies will be freed.

• Special Reward 1: All citizens of Ramen Nation will have their lifespans increased by 15%.

• Special Reward 2: All citizens of Ramen Nation will gain +1 to all physical attributes.

• Special Reward 3: Ramen Nation’s natural gas reserves will increase by 20%.

Gregorio had completed all explorations aboard the Mary Cruise, obtained hidden treasures, and even became the ship’s captain. His SSS rating was well-deserved.

Two others had also achieved an S rating: Edson from Soccer Nation and Peñalver from Britannia. The rest of the chosen ones barely scraped by, merely completing their tasks.

Gregorio had been confident in securing an SSS rating—there was no doubt in his mind. Being the first to emerge, he was brimming with pride.

Yet, the performance of the Dragon Nation’s Celestial Master at the end left him uneasy.

And as fate would have it, his worst fear came true.

The Dragon Nation’s results were announced:

[Congratulations to the chosen one from Dragon Nation for clearing the ‘Mary Cruise’ anomaly. Rating: SSSSS]

• Standard Reward: Two cities afflicted by anomalies will be freed.

• Special Reward 1: Dragon Nation’s iron ore reserves will increase by 20%.

• Special Reward 2: All citizens of Dragon Nation will gain +2 to all physical attributes.

• Special Reward 3: Dragon Nation’s natural gas reserves will increase by 20%.

• Special Reward 4: Dragon Nation’s oil reserves will increase by 20%.

• Special Reward 5: Dragon Nation’s coal reserves will increase by 20%.

As expected, the Dragon Nation’s Celestial Master had shattered the SSS limit, once again proving to the world what it meant to be in a league of his own.

Others might come close, but that’s all they’d ever do—just come close.

Did they really think they could surpass him by copying his methods?

If Zhang Yangqing knew what these chosen ones were thinking, he’d probably laugh out loud.

You’re eating the scraps I left behind, yet you think you’re better than me? Where do you get the audacity?

Though Gregorio had mentally prepared himself, the blow was still hard to swallow.

As the saying goes, no comparison, no harm done.

An SSS rating was undeniably impressive, and being the first to finish was noteworthy. Had there been other SSS-rated individuals, he would still have been at the top.

But with someone achieving SSSSS—two whole tiers above him—his early completion meant nothing.

They weren’t even in the same league.

Speed didn’t matter when your opponent was on another level.

It was like an exam: if someone scored 100 and you scored 80, you couldn’t claim superiority just because you finished first.

By that logic, those who handed in blank papers and got zero should be the real geniuses.

The grand hall of the Holy See fell into dead silence upon the announcement of the Dragon Nation’s Celestial Master’s results.

The ten cardinals stood motionless beneath the papal throne, not daring to breathe too loudly. The only sound in the hall was the heavy breathing of the Pope himself.

Those familiar with the Pope knew this meant Gregorio’s performance had disappointed him.

“Your Holiness, please allow me to represent Ramen Nation once more. I’ve come to realize that experience in the anomaly world only comes from repeated participation.”

Gregorio admitted defeat this time—he could take the loss. But he believed his lack of experience was the reason. Given more opportunities, he’d uncover more secrets within the anomalies.

Then, even the Dragon Nation’s Celestial Master wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Think carefully.”

The Pope lounged lazily on his throne.

As the anomalies grew more difficult, the dangers would multiply. Even superhumans weren’t immune.

Sometimes, strength alone wasn’t enough.

The Pope understood that Gregorio wasn’t entirely to blame. The Celestial Master had entered four anomalies and likely received special hints.

Gregorio had performed admirably, executing every task with precision and speed.

But the Pope feared Gregorio’s competitive nature.

If he treated the anomalies as a battleground, he might make fatal mistakes in interpreting the rules.

Winning wouldn’t matter if he died in the process—that would be the real humiliation.

To the Pope, Gregorio was too eager to win and too bloodthirsty.

If he lost control inside, the consequences would be dire.

So the Pope repeatedly warned him to stay vigilant.

Gregorio knew this, but he believed the current anomaly difficulty was manageable.

As long as he avoided death rules, he had nothing to worry about.

Compared to the real world, the anomaly world was where he could truly unleash himself.

Like the Dragon Nation’s Celestial Master, he had the strength to handle any challenge.

Next time, he’d embrace adventure!

After repeated pleas, the Pope reluctantly agreed.

If Ramen Nation could send another representative, Gregorio would be considered.

After all, even if he wasn’t the best, he was still an SSS-rated conqueror.

His performance in the anomalies showed a mix of boldness and caution—he understood the rules before acting.

After his last anomaly, he’d rested for four or five days.

He had the energy and ability.

Meanwhile, atop Dragon Tiger Mountain:

Upon emerging, Zhang Yangqing was greeted by familiar faces.

As usual, his senior brother, Su Muyu, brought him his favorite dishes.

Though the cruise had offered fine dining, not everything was to his taste.

Here, he could eat without worry.

“Senior Brother, don’t you have anything to say to me?”

Zhang Yangqing had braced himself for a scolding.

Su Muyu rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m a fool? You must have had a reason for acting the way you did.”

Zhang Yangqing nodded but said nothing.

Just then, the expert team arrived, led by Hu Liuqi—Zhang Yangqing’s self-proclaimed fan.

The moment he saw Zhang Yangqing, he broke into a wide grin.

“Celestial Master, your efforts have brought glory to our nation. You’ve achieved what others wouldn’t dare dream of. Dragon Nation is truly fortunate to have you.”

Hu Liuqi’s flattery rolled off his tongue effortlessly.

But even as flattery, it carried genuine admiration—making it sound like simple truth.

“You’re not going to make me go again, are you?”

Zhang Yangqing wasn’t fooled. Being captain for days hadn’t been a vacation—it was exhausting.

Hu Liuqi waved his hands. “No, no! I may not be much, but I’ve studied hard. This time, I’ll go.”

Between bites, Zhang Yangqing casually asked, “Any hints about the next anomaly?”

Hu Liuqi pulled up a screen to show him.

He’d also come to seek a blessing from the Celestial Master—a divination for good fortune.

Little did he know, this farewell would save his life.

Zhang Yangqing glanced at the anomaly’s description:

[Anomaly ‘Cataclysmic Apocalypse’ will soon descend. All nations must select representatives by 11:00.]

[Note: This anomaly is rated five stars. Adjustments include:]

1. Increased death conditions, with numerous instant-death triggers.

2. Enhanced anomaly abilities, including potential mutations under certain conditions.

Just the name alone told Zhang Yangqing this wouldn’t be easy.

The two adjustments made him swallow hard.

Seeing Hu Liuqi’s resolute expression, he understood why the man had volunteered.

Anyone could see this anomaly would be brutal—possibly a death anomaly.

So far, some anomalies had wiped out every participant—no survivors.

It felt unsolvable, as if death was inevitable.

These were called death anomalies.

Hu Liuqi was ready to die fighting for that sliver of hope.

“Celestial Master, how’s my divination? Will I survive this anomaly?”

Hu Liuqi shook the divination tube, and a stick fell out.

Zhang Yangqing picked it up and read: [Great Misfortune.]

Then he said, “You’ll be fine this time.”

“Why?”

Hu Liuqi was confused—he’d seen the word “misfortune.”

Zhang Yangqing placed the stick back. “Because I’m going.”

This put Hu Liuqi in a dilemma.

Of course, he was thrilled Zhang Yangqing would step in.

But if a figure of his caliber fell in a death anomaly, what would happen to future anomalies?

“But Celestial Master, this anomaly seems… abnormal. It sounds extremely dangerous.”

“It is.”

“What are your odds of success?”

Zhang Yangqing thought for a moment, then said seriously, “Before entering, I’m only 99.99% confident I’ll clear it.”

Everyone: “…”

Hu Liuqi was stunned.

Celestial Master, are you joking?

99.99% is ‘dangerous’ to you?

Does that mean you were 100% confident in past anomalies?

If Zhang Yangqing knew his thoughts, he’d reply: Be confident—I was 200% sure!

Increased death conditions meant even top-tier superhumans couldn’t act recklessly.

Instant-death triggers leveled the playing field—superhumans lost their edge.

Enhanced anomalies that could mutate? Ordinary superhumans might as well be mortals.

From this, Zhang Yangqing guessed survival would hinge on stealth and wit.

This was a job for the sharp-minded, not the prideful.

Superhumans, with their arrogance, might take risks—but risks here were deadly.

If not for his ability to switch identities, Zhang Yangqing wouldn’t bother with a death anomaly.

Others saw a near-certain death—he saw a chance to test new rules.

Most assumed this was a zombie apocalypse survival scenario.

Some nations’ so-called “survival experts” had even signed up, ready for action.

Zhang Yangqing knew better.

Remember the giant deep-sea creature with octopus-like eyes?

That was a four-star anomaly. This was five stars—with enhancements.

Did they really think ordinary zombies would cut it?

That deep-sea monster had been trivial to Zhang Yangqing, but to others, it was a death sentence.

Even the final boss of a three-star anomaly was no joke.

Zhang Yangqing predicted five-star anomalies would bring even deadlier horrors.

Ordinary zombies? Too low-tier—only scary to the average person.

They wouldn’t qualify for a five-star difficulty.

Still, this was just speculation.

One thing was certain: this would be the hardest anomaly in recent times.

That’s why he’d said 99.99%—leaving room for the unknown.

Hu Liuqi and the experts, even the Dragon Tiger Mountain disciples, thought Zhang Yangqing was being humble.

With him volunteering, Dragon Nation’s citizens erupted in celebration.

No matter the anomaly, they trusted their Celestial Master—the pinnacle of Daoism!

Only Su Muyu looked worried. He pulled Zhang Yangqing into the mountain’s study.

“Senior Brother, what is it?” Zhang Yangqing asked.

“You don’t say things lightly. If you’re saying this, it must be dangerous. Let Junior Brother Xuanjing go instead.”

Since the old Celestial Master’s passing, no one understood Zhang Yangqing better than Su Muyu.

Normally, Zhang Yangqing would claim 200% confidence.

His restraint now meant uncertainty.

Even a 0.001% chance of death was too much for Su Muyu.

If Zhang Xuanjing heard this, he’d protest: My life matters too!

Su Muyu’s favoritism was blatant.

To reassure him, Zhang Yangqing said solemnly, “Don’t worry. I have a unique method—probably known only to me.”

I only said 99.99% before entering. Once inside, things change.

“If you insist, I won’t approve your substitute leave. If you don’t return, you’ll be marked absent indefinitely.”

With that, Su Muyu left, cutting off any argument.

This was his way of showing concern.

In this world, Zhang Yangqing knew:

People respected him because he was strong.

As long as he kept winning, his reputation would hold.

Death would erase everything.

Su Muyu was the only one who truly wanted him to return alive.

…Can we at least negotiate the substitute leave?

This anomaly saw unprecedented reluctance to participate.

Of 200 nations, *115* had no volunteers.

The smarter the conqueror, the sharper their reasoning.

The hints alone screamed “suicide mission.”

Who would willingly throw their life away?

Death rules and instant-death triggers aside, this was an apocalyptic survival scenario.

Doomsday meant food, water, infection, medicine—everything was a concern.

And in the apocalypse, the scariest monsters weren’t zombies.

They were people.

Monsters might kill you—people would make you suffer.

Even seasoned conquerors refused to go.

Their response to the experts: “You’re so full of theories—why don’t YOU go?”

The experts cited “poor physical condition” and declined.

Only the reckless or the foolhardy volunteered.

If no one stepped forward, selection would be random.

After all, with so many people, the odds were low, right?

Those who did volunteer fell into two categories:

1. The fearless, like Zhang Yangqing and Gregorio.

2. The easily swayed, hyped up by the experts.

At Dragon Tiger Mountain, Su Muyu didn’t see Zhang Yangqing off—he busied himself elsewhere.

He didn’t want to add pressure.

In the Holy See’s grand hall, Gregorio bid the cardinals farewell and entered the anomaly with confidence.

How hard could it be? Last time, I just didn’t know how to play flashy enough.

The apocalypse? I’ll BECOME the apocalypse.

…At least, that’s what he thought now.

A flash of white light later, all chosen ones—volunteers and randoms—were transported in.

[The anomaly has begun. Each nation has selected one representative.]

[If the chosen one dies, an anomaly will descend randomly on one of their cities.]

[Ten consecutive failures will result in nationwide anomalies.]

[Current anomaly: ‘Cataclysmic Apocalypse’!]

[Difficulty: Five stars.]

[In this anomaly, you will play as a prisoner. Keep a clear mind, locate the rules, and use them to survive.]

Reading this, Gregorio froze.

A prisoner? What the hell?

A glance around his surroundings filled him with regret.

The scene before him was a dim, damp cell.

Not just a cell—a steel cage.

The bars were made of an unbreakable alloy. Even his strength couldn’t bend them.

The stench of rotting flesh filled the air—likely from nearby cells.

He wore an orange jumpsuit, with a strange bracelet locked around his right wrist.

It was indestructible, its purpose unknown.

Soon, he learned its function.

A prisoner tried attacking a guard.

The guard pressed a button, and the prisoner’s bracelet emitted a pulse.

The man convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and collapsed—dead or unconscious.

Gregorio understood: this bracelet was an instant-death device.

The anomaly was starting off brutal.

His mind reeled—he had no idea what to do.

Outside, he’d imagined wreaking havoc, executing countless flashy moves.

Now, reality felt different.

This was a hellish difficulty start.

Many viewers thanked their luck for not being chosen.

Gregorio steadied himself and searched for rules.

Survival depended on them.

His arrogance was gone.

Soon, he found six rules etched into the prison walls.