I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 130

Chapter 130: So This Trial Was Designed Specifically to Screw Me Over, Right?

Botanical Garden Work Rules:

[Rule 1: Be extremely careful when working in the botanical garden—some plants here are carnivorous.]

[Rule 2: Once a plant has eaten its fill, it will stop feeding. Before harvesting, confirm whether it is still hungry.]

[Rule 3: If you experience hallucinations, locate and consume a red rose petal to dispel them.]

[Rule 4: If someone calls you from behind and you cannot confirm if they are human, do not turn around.]

[Rule 5: Remember—do not collaborate with any other prisoners in the botanical garden.]

[Rule 6: This is a botanical garden. Anyone caught intentionally damaging plants will be executed on the spot by the guards.]

[Rule 7: You must leave the botanical garden before 6 PM. Failure to do so means you will never leave.]

[Rule 8: Blood drives the plants here into a frenzy. Avoid getting cut while working.]

As the chosen ones studied the rules, the guards began issuing instructions.

According to them, the first prisoner to harvest five chromatic fruits could return to rest—provided the fruits were fully ripe.

The guards would be patrolling the area, and any prisoner caught stealing fruits from others would be executed immediately.

That was the prison’s decree.

After hearing this, the chosen ones gazed at the seemingly endless botanical garden before them.

Towering trees blocked out most of the artificial sunlight, casting the entire area in an eerie gloom.

Even from a distance, a chilling sensation crept over them—as if something unseen was watching, hungry and impatient.

The garden was unnervingly silent, yet some plants swayed unnaturally, as if alive.

No—the chosen ones quickly realized, after reviewing the rules and seeing the terror in the veteran prisoners’ eyes—these plants weren’t just alive.

They were predators.

If even hardened criminals feared this place, the danger had to be unimaginable.

A wave of dread spread, infecting even the chosen ones.

Before stepping inside, many were already paralyzed with fear.

By the logic of the Strange World, if these powerful prisoners were considered “normal,” then this garden was a breeding ground for horrors.

Their mission was simple: survive the garden and harvest the chromatic fruits.

The so-called “chromatic fruits” weren’t ordinary—they emitted a faint glow, making them easy to spot.

For most chosen ones, the strategy was straightforward:

1. Avoid carnivorous plants.

2. Do not cooperate with other prisoners (Rule 5).

3. Stay within the guards’ line of sight (preferably under surveillance).

This would maximize their chances of survival.

But the most crucial step?

Find the fat prison guard with sunglasses.

He was the lifeline mentioned in the Prisoner Rules.

Many chosen ones had already approached him, discovering that unlike the cold, indifferent guards, this one was surprisingly kind and helpful.

This gave them a sliver of reassurance—having an ally was better than facing the nightmare alone.

Before entering, the chosen ones followed the veterans’ lead and prepared their tools: gloves and collection bags.

The smarter ones took the opportunity to pump the old-timers for information.

The rules provided survival basics, but extra intel never hurt—especially in a garden this vast, resembling an ancient, primordial jungle.

The veterans, flattered by the newcomers’ deference, shared some critical tips:

1. “You’re not the only prisoners here—other prisons also send inmates to harvest.”

   • The steel fortress was enormous, housing criminals from across the region.

   • Hundreds, even thousands, might be harvesting simultaneously—though encounters were rare due to the garden’s size.

   • Never trust strangers. If you saw another prisoner, assume they’d kill you for your fruits.

2. “If you find a ‘mirage fruit’ and hand it to the guards, your sentence will be reduced.”

   • Mirage fruits were the rarest and most dangerous prizes in the garden.

   • Unlike chromatic fruits (single-colored), mirage fruits shimmered with two or more hues.

The promise of early release electrified many chosen ones—who’d want to stay in this hellhole?

The veterans also shared practical advice:

• “Don’t waste time on the outskirts—fruits are scarce there.”

• “Hide your harvest if necessary to avoid theft.”

• “Mark your path. Getting lost means walking into another prison’s territory—and that’s a death sentence.”

Grateful for the tips, the chosen ones set off—alone, as per Rule 5.

The sooner they finished, the better. Rule 7 was clear: anyone still inside after 6 PM would never leave.

The shrewdest chosen ones didn’t rush in blindly. Instead, they shadowed the veterans, observing how they:

• Identified carnivorous plants.

• Avoided their attack range.

• Harvested fruits safely.

Russia’s chosen one excelled at this, spending over 30 minutes studying the veterans’ movements before making his move.

Then there was Japan’s chosen one, Yamamoto Gojūshichi—a prime example of what not to do.

His logic wasn’t entirely flawed:

• Rule 3 stated red rose petals cured hallucinations.

• To avoid being caught unprepared, he decided to collect petals first.

The problem?

He assumed the roses were harmless.

The moment he leaned in to sniff one, the flower’s petals split apart into a gaping maw and decapitated him.

His headless corpse was swiftly devoured by nearby carnivorous plants, leaving only bones.

The rose, now drenched in fresh blood, seemed to mock the audience:

“Now you know why I’m so red.”

Japan’s screen darkened—two consecutive failures.

But Yamamoto wasn’t the only casualty.

This was the “Garden of Certain Death” for a reason.

At least in a zoo, you could see the animals coming.

Here? Any plant could be a killer.

America’s chosen one learned this the hard way.

After spotting a chromatic fruit, he failed to notice the four-leaf clover nearby.

In the real world, four-leaf clovers symbolized luck.

Here?

Its leaves spun like a blender, slicing him into chunks before he could scream.

Malaysia’s chosen one was even unluckier.

Nervous and rushing, he slipped on moss, cutting his hand on a rock.

The scent of blood triggered a feeding frenzy—plants swarmed him like piranhas.

Within 30 minutes, over 40 chosen ones had died in increasingly grotesque ways:

• Crushed by falling gourds.

• Impaled by cactus needles.

• Swallowed whole by venus flytraps.

Viewers were horrified. This trial seemed impossible.

Even the two superhumans—Zhang Yangqing and Gereco—were struggling without their powers.

But then, a breakthrough.

Russia’s chosen one successfully harvested a chromatic fruit.

The key? Understanding the hidden rules.

1. Blood triggered attacks (Rule 8).

   • Wearing gloves was essential—many plants had thorns or sharp leaves.

2. Entering a carnivorous plant’s attack range provoked it.

   • Unlike animals, plants had fixed attack zones (they couldn’t chase you).

   • Stepping out of range stopped the assault.

3. Chromatic fruits were always guarded by carnivorous plants.

   • Look for oddities—like a lone four-leaf clover beneath a fruit-bearing tree.

Armed with this knowledge, Russia’s chosen one:

• Stuck to well-trodden paths (safer, as veterans had tested them).

• Used sticks and vines to knock fruits down from a distance.

• Retrieved them with makeshift hooks, avoiding direct contact.

For ordinary chosen ones, one mistake meant death.

But the top-tier players had their own methods.

Zhang Yangqing’s approach was simple:

“The best way to avoid being eaten is to eat them first.”

Carnivorous plants, though camouflaged, stood out if you knew what to look for.

Gereco, despite his sealed holy energy, relied on agility and precision:

• Dodging attacks, then snapping the plants’ stems.

• Climbing trees to harvest fruits safely.

But thorny plants (like cacti) forced him to retreat.

Meanwhile, Zhang Yangqing was playing on easy mode.

Even without qi, his physical prowess was monstrous.

He’d collected leaves upon entering—and in his hands, they became deadly projectiles.

With a flick of his wrist—

Whoosh!

A leaf whizzed through the air like a razor, shredding every carnivorous plant in its path.

His snake-eyed subordinate gaped.

Even viewers were stunned:

“Holy hell—he’s using leaves like throwing stars!”

“Wait, I thought his powers were sealed?”

“Fool! The Celestial Master cultivates both body and soul. The wristband only locks qi—not his physical strength!”

“No wonder he wasn’t scared earlier. He never needed powers to begin with!”

“Meanwhile, the Red-Robed Archbishop must be crying: ‘So this trial was designed specifically to screw me over?’”

Indeed, while Zhang Yangqing made it look effortless, Gereco was struggling.

Most clergy relied on holy energy—their physical conditioning was mediocre at best.

Only paladins trained their bodies rigorously.

Thankfully, Gereco was a battle fanatic—his reflexes were sharper than the average priest’s.

A less combat-oriented bishop would’ve died faster than the ordinary chosen ones.

With the carnivorous plants neutralized, harvesting was trivial.

Zhang Yangqing left the manual labor to his subordinate—what else were lackeys for?

But just as the snake-eyed man pocketed a chromatic fruit—

Crunch.

Footsteps approached from the shadows.