I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 131

Chapter 131: You Think He’s Showing Off? No, He’s Just That Damn Good! 

The world of anomalies is like this—once certain conditions are triggered, specific events will unfold.

This is simply one of the rules of a rule-bound world.

At this stage, Zhang Yangqing has undoubtedly been deemed by the audience as the contestant who has violated the most rules.

Rule 5: Do not cooperate with any prisoners in the botanical garden.

Zhang Yangqing brought a lackey with him.

But this can be explained—he wasn’t cooperating, just giving unilateral orders.

Rule 6: This is a botanical garden. If you are caught deliberately damaging plants, you will be executed on the spot by the prison guards.

Zhang Yangqing wreaked havoc on the plants using leaves.

But this is also easy to understand—you only get executed if you’re caught. If no one sees you, what’s the problem?

You can’t mess around near the entrance, but this is the depths of the primeval jungle. There isn’t a single surveillance camera here, let alone prison guards.

The guards only stay at the entrance. Unless absolutely necessary, they won’t come inside.

On the surface, Zhang Yangqing has broken many rules, but he’s operating within the loopholes.

This is his unique skill.

However, the moment any contestant obtained their first Color Fruit, strange figures began appearing around them.

These people seemed to have been tailing the contestants, waiting for them to pick the fruit before—well, the rest is obvious—they tried to snatch the Color Fruit from the contestants’ hands.

Goncharov, the contestant from the Bear Country, was the first to obtain a Color Fruit and the first to face a robbery.

Goncharov had pledged allegiance to one of the three prison bosses, the Blue Lightning Man. The ones robbing him were the Crocodile Man’s gang.

Right now, the Blue Lightning Man was nowhere to be seen. Faced with the aggressive Crocodile Man and his crew, Goncharov was seething with anger.

The Crocodile Man had over a dozen underlings. Before Goncharov could even run, he was surrounded.

“Newbie, hand it over if you want to live. We saw you got a Color Fruit,” snarled the Crocodile Man’s lackey, the Lizard Man, stepping forward.

As the typical henchman, his job was to talk trash for his boss. After all, a high-ranking boss wouldn’t demean himself by making threats—that’s what underlings were for. And as a lackey, he was more than happy to throw his weight around.

Goncharov, hailing from the Bear Country, was a man of notoriously short temper.

In a nation of fighters, life revolved around drinking and brawling.

His physique was burly, his face covered in a thick beard—intimidating enough to make most people steer clear of him in a crowd.

Sometimes, you could tell just by looking at someone whether they were easy to mess with.

But where was this? This was an anomaly world with a higher dimensional level, a place where mutants and beastmen existed.

Not to mention, this world’s technology far surpassed that of Earth.

Goncharov was just a particularly strong human. Here, he had no advantage.

In fact, he was at a severe disadvantage.

How could a mere flesh-and-blood human hope to stand against mutants, let alone a gang of powerful beastmen?

Goncharov was outnumbered. Against so many beastmen, even fighting back was a pipe dream.

Let’s be clear—the prisoners who made it this far were no ordinary convicts. Their physical abilities had been enhanced.

Goncharov glared at the aggressive mob, his heart filled with resentment but utterly helpless.

To survive, he forced a smile, cupped the freshly picked Color Fruit in both hands, and presented it to the Crocodile Man.

In his most sincere tone, he said, “Boss Crocodile, this Color Fruit would be wasted on someone like me. It belongs in your hands.”

The Crocodile Man was pleased. After having a lackey take the fruit, he said, “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I’ll let you off this time. You seem handy—want to work for me?”

Unexpectedly, Goncharov received an offer from one of the prison bosses.

Compared to his current boss, the Blue Lightning Man, the Crocodile Man seemed more reliable and had more underlings.

On the surface, it looked like a decent option. If he joined them, he wouldn’t get robbed anymore.

But the rules stated:

[Rule 5: Remember, do not cooperate with any prisoners in the botanical garden.]

Though Goncharov didn’t fully understand the implications, as a contestant, he had no choice but to follow the rules. To avoid violating them, he politely declined.

Playing it safe was always the right move. Goncharov had no other option.

Seeing his politeness, the Crocodile Man didn’t press the issue.

After all, the prison bosses’ goal was to steal Color Fruits, not to kill indiscriminately.

The bosses knew that if they wiped everyone out, there’d be no one left to rob.

Then they’d have to pick the fruits themselves—way too much hassle.

This sustainable approach was an unspoken rule in the prison.

Goncharov sighed as he watched the Crocodile Man’s retreating figure.

In this world, being powerless was a miserable existence.

He wasn’t the only one in this situation. Most contestants had been taught a lesson by the prison bosses here.

No matter who you pledged allegiance to, someone else would always come to rob you.

The smarter contestants heeded the veterans’ advice—after obtaining a Color Fruit, they immediately hid, thus avoiding trouble.

Like Goncharov, many who were caught right after picking the fruit chose to surrender it to save their skins. Very few dared to openly defy a prison boss’s gang.

In the world of rule-based anomalies, the natives—whether ghosts or monsters—were already beyond the contestants’ ability to handle.

After this dimensional upgrade, the contestants didn’t even entertain thoughts of resistance.

The only ones who might dare to fight back were the two figures the audience had in mind.

The Red Robe Archbishop Gregorio from Pasta Country was also targeted by the Crocodile Man’s gang after obtaining a Color Fruit.

Since he hadn’t pledged allegiance to anyone, any gang could rob him without repercussions.

Faced with the Lizard Man’s taunts, Gregorio was furious.

If only this damn bracelet were off, I’d grind you all to dust!

Having dominated the last anomaly, he wasn’t used to being pushed around like this.

Pasta Country’s audience, seeing Gregorio’s darkening expression, broke out in cold sweat.

They knew his identity and temper—there was no way he’d humbly hand over the Color Fruit like the others.

[Archbishop, stay calm! This isn’t the time to lose your cool. Wait until the bracelet’s off!]

[Your skills aren’t suited for this stage. Endure it, and you’ll shine later.]

[Archbishop Gregorio, God’s grace and forgiveness are built on patience and forbearance. You must endure!]

[This is the Lord’s test. You must withstand it, Archbishop!]

It wasn’t just the audience. Even fellow Red Robe Archbishops watching felt a headache coming on.

As a high-ranking clergyman, Gregorio couldn’t bring shame to the faith. Sometimes, death was preferable to bowing to evil.

Otherwise, it would disgrace the Church.

To some, honor was more important than life itself.

The other archbishops understood Gregorio’s feelings. Whatever choice he made, they’d support him.

They knew Gregorio would never grovel. His expression was already one of barely contained rage.

In the anomaly world, seeing Gregorio’s defiance, the Lizard Man lost his temper.

“You’ve got some nerve! There are no cameras here—get him, boys!”

Clearly, the veteran prisoners knew the rules well: no cameras meant no limits.

This was prison. The old-timers taught the newcomers how things worked.

Whether Gregorio lived or died depended on the boss’s mood.

But even with his holy energy sealed, Gregorio’s combat skills were still sharp.

After barely taking down one prisoner, he bolted.

He wouldn’t submit, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t run.

This was the biggest concession he could make to survive.

“After him! Kill that insolent bastard!” the Lizard Man roared.

And just like that, Gregorio turned the Deadly Botanical Garden into a game of Temple Run.

He had hoped to draw blood from a prisoner to trigger the plants’ attack, but the beastmen’s thick hides made that impossible.

So running was his only option.

He had the ideas but lacked the strength to execute them.

And now, the main event.

With Gregorio’s retreat, the eyes of the world turned to the leisurely Dragon Country’s Celestial Master.

Other contestants were merely robbed—once they handed over the Color Fruit, the matter was settled.

But this guy? He’d offended all three prison bosses the moment he arrived.

None of them would let him off easy. The way the Crocodile Man looked at Zhang Yangqing, it was like he wanted to eat him alive.

After surrounding Zhang Yangqing and his lackey, the Lizard Man stepped forward.

But this time, his lines were different—far more vicious than before.

“Pathetic human, crawl between our legs today, and my boss might spare your life. Otherwise, we’ll chop you into pieces and feed you to the plants!”

As the designated trash-talker for the beastmen, the Lizard Man’s arrogance was off the charts.

He might as well have been looking down his nose at Zhang Yangqing.

His sneering, ugly face twisted into something even more repulsive as he spoke.

Now, there’s a certain etiquette to these things.

Zhang Yangqing was a man of status, after all.

A mere lackey insulting him? That would be beneath his dignity.

So, lackeys should be dealt with by lackeys.

Zhang Yangqing gave his snake-eyed follower a look, signaling him to handle the verbal sparring.

The snake-eyed lackey nodded, gesturing confidently—Leave it to me, boss.

As a half-snake hybrid, the snake-eyed lackey usually spoke softly and moved stealthily.

He’d always kept a low profile—that was his survival strategy.

In this cutthroat environment, aligning with the wrong boss could get you killed.

And bosses didn’t always protect their underlings. In danger, you might just become cannon fodder.

He’d seen it too many times. Staying neutral was safest.

But after meeting Zhang Yangqing, his perspective shifted.

As a small fry, he had one talent: reading people.

First, from a human perspective, this man was too extraordinary—clearly no ordinary person.

Add to that his unmatched confidence and disdainful gaze—this was a true boss.

So the snake-eyed lackey decided to gamble and throw his lot in with Zhang Yangqing.

Zhang Yangqing’s earlier display had already won him over.

Now, he mustered his courage and stepped forward, ready to talk trash.

This was the duty of a loyal underling.

Normally, he’d never dare, but with Zhang Yangqing backing him, he felt invincible.

Taking a deep breath, he pointed at the Crocodile Man and shouted:

“Crocodile Man, you’re nothing but a circus act! Parading around with your lackeys like a pack of mutts—you think this is a zoo? Listen up: take one more step, and you’ll regret it!”

The moment the words left his mouth, the entire opposing gang froze. Their faces twitched, smiles stiffening into masks of fury.

They looked ready to commit murder.

Never in their wildest dreams had they expected to be insulted like this—in prison, no less!

They were mighty beastmen, and he’d called them a zoo?

That was the most vicious insult in this world—one only its inhabitants would understand.

After his tirade, the snake-eyed lackey retreated behind Zhang Yangqing.

Noticing Zhang Yangqing’s slight surprise, he whispered, “Boss, did I say something wrong?”

Zhang Yangqing shook his head. “No, I thought it was perfect.”

“Your expression made me think you weren’t happy. Want me to add more?”

“No need. It just reminded me of some old friends…”

Zhang Yangqing was pleased with his underling’s performance.

The art of insults was all about hitting where it hurt.

If you’re going to trash-talk, why hold back?

The Crocodile Man was one of the more refined figures in the prison—menacing in appearance but usually composed.

But when truly angered, he became an unstoppable beast.

Now, after being publicly humiliated, he could no longer restrain himself.

As one of the prison’s overlords, if he didn’t bury the ones who’d insulted him, how could he maintain his reputation?

“I’ll grind you both into paste!” the Crocodile Man roared, charging forward himself.

He couldn’t wait to tear these two insolent humans apart.

His mind raced with a hundred ways to make them suffer.

The two-meter-tall beastman’s rage made the ground tremble as he charged.

Honestly, the snake-eyed lackey was a little nervous. There were over a dozen enemies, after all.

He wasn’t worried about his boss—the man was clearly capable.

But if the boss got tied up fighting the Crocodile Man, what about him? Wouldn’t he be torn apart by the other beastmen?

Tied up? Zhang Yangqing didn’t do “tied up.”

Watching the enraged beastmen charge, Zhang Yangqing raised a hand casually and said, “Fifteen leaves.”

Flustered, the snake-eyed lackey pulled out the prepared leaves from his pocket.

Exactly fifteen—he handed them to Zhang Yangqing.

Just as he wondered what his boss planned to do, Zhang Yangqing pinched the fifteen leaves between his fingers and struck a ridiculously cool pose.

His eyes scanned the surroundings, and the moment his pupils dilated—

The leaves vanished from his hands.

A series of sharp whistling sounds filled the air, like the hum of spinning blades.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

The sound of blades slicing through flesh echoed continuously.

Heads flew freely, liberated from their bodies.

In just five seconds, fifteen beastmen had been decapitated.

As their heads soared, their headless bodies crumpled to the ground.

In an instant, the eerie botanical garden was shrouded in a mist of blood.

The stench of iron hung thick in the air.

The fallen heads all wore identical expressions—wide-eyed, as if unable to comprehend their own demise.

How had they died?

How had a seemingly weak human, without any weapons, beheaded them?

This time, Zhang Yangqing wasn’t playing the savior. He didn’t need underlings.

So anyone who crossed him had to die.

The moment the Crocodile Man decided to retaliate, his fate was sealed.

Even mentally prepared, the snake-eyed lackey was stunned.

His jaw hung open, unable to process what he’d just witnessed.

He’d known his boss wouldn’t lose—but he hadn’t expected it to be this one-sided.

This wasn’t a fight between prisoners. This was a slaughter.

No wonder the boss had been so arrogant from the start. With power like this, he’d be even more arrogant.

And this was with the boss’s bracelet still suppressing him. The lackey couldn’t even imagine how strong he’d be unrestricted.

“Boss, you’re insane! Fifteen leaves to kill fifteen beastmen—no one would believe me if I told them!”

The snake-eyed lackey’s admiration overflowed.

He’d known someone this confident had to be the real deal.

In his understanding, leaves couldn’t even be considered weapons.

Yet his boss had just used fifteen to wipe out fifteen beastmen.

How could he not be in awe? He’d definitely hitched his wagon to the right star.

Zhang Yangqing shrugged. “I’m not at my best right now. On a good day, I wouldn’t need this many.”

The lackey almost thought his boss was showing off.

You’re already this ridiculously strong, and you’re not at your best?

On a good day, would two or three leaves be enough?

If Zhang Yangqing knew what he was thinking, he’d shake his head. One would suffice. Any more would be wasteful.

His words might sound like bragging, but they were the truth.

With his spiritual energy unleashed, a single leaf could’ve killed these guys a hundred times over.

This was the realm of the truly powerful. You thought he was showing off? No, he was just that damn good.

Only Su Muyu could truly relate.

Because Su Muyu knew—yes, the guy was flashy, but if you dared him to back up his “bragging,” he could.

And that was terrifying.

The snake-eyed lackey was half-tempted to kowtow. Anything less felt unworthy of being his underling.

Unlike Pasta Country’s audience, Dragon Country’s viewers weren’t worried about whether Zhang Yangqing could handle the Crocodile Man.

They were too busy speculating how he’d annihilate him.

Last time, Pasta Country’s fans had claimed Gregorio was Zhang Yangqing’s equal—he’d just been new to anomalies and missed the SSSSS rating.

This round perfectly illustrated the hierarchy among the transcendent.

Previously, this saying had been applied to others.

Now, Pasta Country’s viewers had no rebuttal.

Their transcendent was being chased through the garden, while Dragon Country’s had wiped out the enemy with a