I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 139

Chapter 139: No Big Deal, Just Be More Careful in Your Next Life!

In this Hall of Repentance, aside from ordinary prisoners and the Chosen Ones, the rules clearly mention another type of person.

In fact, nearly two entire rules are dedicated to them, with explicit warnings about how dangerous they are.

They are the most terrifying inmates in the prison—the death row prisoners.

The Chosen Ones don’t know how death row prisoners are defined in this world, but the title alone suggests they’re not to be trifled with.

The smarter Chosen Ones might deduce that death row prisoners likely enter through a different passage—or perhaps, they already live here.

Abdul, the Chosen One from Turban Nation, had obtained a guard’s uniform, drastically increased his strength, and now held a controller. Repentance was the last thing on his mind. His current goal was to make contact with the death row prisoners and figure out how to obtain the “meat.”

He had no idea where the meat would appear or how it was produced, so he needed to explore.

Based on his understanding of the Strange Tales world, certain conditions had to be triggered for food to appear.

As for what those conditions were, only the death row prisoners mentioned in the rules might know.

After all, Rule 2 states:

[Rule 2: Do not easily trust the words of a death row prisoner unless they are willing to share food with you.]

On the massive screen before him, Abdul had already taken a detour to another area, though he appeared minuscule in comparison—like a dwarf wandering through a land of giants, where even a single blade of grass seemed several times taller than normal.

The further Abdul ventured, the stranger everything felt.

When he reached a high vantage point, he realized he could see the entire layout below—rows of prisoners undergoing repentance in the designated area.

Just as he was observing the scene, his enhanced hearing picked up approaching footsteps.

He quickly hid in a concealed spot. Moments later, several beastman warriors appeared before him.

If Abdul’s guess was correct, these figures—dressed in blue prison uniforms with blackened wristbands—were the death row prisoners of this Strange Tales world.

They had just arrived and were now observing the prisoners below completing their repentance tasks.

Moreover, they seemed familiar with the place, as if they had been here many times before.

Even though Abdul had been enhanced and held a controller, the sight of these ferocious death row prisoners still sent a chill down his spine.

The aura they exuded was something he had sensed before—only those who had killed enough people, who had instilled enough fear, could carry such thick, suffocating bloodlust.

There were five death row prisoners in total. Their uniforms were immaculate, their faces wore smiles, and their eyes held not a trace of despair—only anticipation.

Especially the lion-man at the front and the rhino-man beside him, both towering over three meters tall. Their very breathing carried a heavy, oppressive weight.

To Abdul, they seemed like the true rulers of this prison.

He suspected that even the likes of the Crocodile Man and the Lightning Man wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

Those two might be formidable within the prison, but compared to these death row prisoners, they were nothing.

As for the ordinary prisoners? Surviving a single slap from these beasts would be a miracle.

Fortunately, the death row prisoners were entirely focused on the scene below and hadn’t noticed Abdul.

They even began making casual remarks, some of which contained useful clues:

[This batch of prisoners has a few decent ones.]
[The Goddess will probably like them.]
[I wonder what’s happening outside. When will we be qualified to leave?]

Their words left Abdul puzzled. What did they mean by “this batch of prisoners”?

Were they planning to leave?

Shouldn’t death row prisoners be waiting for execution?

All of this deepened Abdul’s sense that this place was still shrouded in mystery.

At this moment, an idea struck him: Should I make contact with them?

Perhaps only by interacting with them could he uncover the truth about this steel fortress.

He recalled another rule:

[Rule 10: Do not enter the area designated for death row prisoners without permission.]

Given the current situation, it could be interpreted as having implicit permission.

Was the rule hinting that now was the time to approach them?

But the rules also warned that death row prisoners were dangerous—only trust them if they shared food. Since Abdul still didn’t know what the “food” was, he hesitated.

As he weighed his options, Zhang Yangqing also arrived at the high point.

Abdul didn’t dare approach because he lacked the strength.

While everyone expected Zhang Yangqing to immediately deal with the death row prisoners, he instead retreated to the side with his snake-eyed follower, adopting the stance of a third-party observer.

When Zhang Yangqing first entered and read the rules, he wasn’t entirely sure whether this stage was about survival or slaughter.

He initially thought this might be a blood-soaked coliseum, where death row prisoners and inmates fought to atone for their sins.

But after seeing the repentance tasks and the statue of the Goddess of Repentance, he understood.

This wasn’t a goddess of repentance—it was a goddess of sacrifice.

These so-called repentance tasks—while appearing like torture—were essentially about cleaning, boiling, and skinning.

In sacrificial rituals, weren’t offerings prepared the same way?

In other words, these prisoners were the offerings. Once they completed the tasks, the death row prisoners would sacrifice them to obtain food.

There was a major misconception here: the rules only told the Chosen Ones how to reduce their sentences. The guards never demanded that they complete the repentance tasks.

If the Chosen Ones followed the herd mentality and mimicked the other prisoners, they would end up as sacrifices for the death row prisoners.

The death row prisoners’ mission was likely just that.

So Zhang Yangqing only needed to wait for them to kill enough prisoners, complete the sacrificial ritual, and then seize the final reward for himself.

This was Zhang Yangqing’s interpretation of the rules, combined with his observations.

For other Chosen Ones, this stage might indeed be a bloody coliseum.

But for Zhang Yangqing? It was just dogs fighting dogs.

Given his abilities, he could ignore or bypass many of the rules.

While he remained unharmed, others weren’t so lucky.

For ordinary Chosen Ones, the rules implied that there were survival tools here—tools they could use to fight back against the death row prisoners with the help of the prison’s dominant inmates.

This approach was a life-or-death gamble.

A single mistake could mean instant death.

Among the Chosen Ones, the more ruthless ones had already sensed something was wrong.

They realized that these repentance tasks were designed to exhaust their stamina.

Since the rules stated that killing death row prisoners could reduce their sentences, wouldn’t the best strategy be to eliminate them?

If they entered the hall and found no trace of the death row prisoners, the sharper Chosen Ones should have realized they were being watched.

For ordinary prisoners, this was a battleground.

The Chosen One from Football Nation seemed to grasp this. After obtaining the mirror, he shared his thoughts with the Crocodile Man he had allied with.

Despite his brutish appearance, the Crocodile Man wasn’t stupid. If you explained things clearly, he could understand.

“So that’s how it is. I always wondered why so many prisoners who entered the Hall of Repentance never returned. I thought they’d been released, but according to you, they were probably killed.”

The Hall of Repentance only opened once every few months.

In this prison, only those with the darkest wristbands were eligible to enter.

Prison overlords like the Crocodile Man, whose crimes were severe, had never been here before.

Furious, the Crocodile Man muttered, “This damned prison never intended to let us leave alive.”

He then relayed the information to the Lightning Man and the Mad Scientist.

Word spread quickly.

Though these prisoners had no sense of morality, they still wanted to survive.

If the death row prisoners were going to kill them, they might as well strike first.

With several prison overlords leading the charge, why should they be afraid?

Everyone here had blood on their hands—they were all hardened criminals.

As the saying goes, “Even a mighty tiger is no match for a pack of wolves.” If the death row prisoners only dared to attack after the prisoners had endured the tortures, it meant they weren’t confident in facing them all at once.

Once they realized this, the hundreds of prisoners banded together, forming a massive force to sweep the Hall of Repentance and hunt down the death row prisoners.

“Boss, look! Those guys in blue are the death row prisoners!”

A sharp-eyed prisoner was the first to shout.

But his cry only enraged the death row prisoners, who had been resting unobserved.

With no surveillance in this area, a bloodbath ensued.

The prison’s most brutal coliseum had officially begun.

Even with their wristbands restricting them, the death row prisoners displayed terrifying prowess, slaughtering over forty prisoners in under three minutes. Unless a prisoner could dodge their attacks, none could withstand a single blow. Even the prison overlords were wounded.

They could fight back—but barely.

Just as the prisoners began to waver, the Mad Scientist decided to stop pretending. Since they were all in this together, holding back now would mean certain death for everyone.

So he stepped forward and released the Crocodile Man’s restrictions.

As for why the Mad Scientist never released his own restrictions, always choosing to empower others instead—the answer was simple.

He was strong, but why risk his own life when he could let others take the fall?

He didn’t release the Lightning Man’s restrictions because beastmen had high resistance to supernatural abilities. If even one death row prisoner could withstand lightning, they’d be doomed.

The Crocodile Man’s body swelled to five meters tall, his muscles bulging, his skin turning impenetrable, and spikes erupting across his flesh.

With a deafening roar that shook the heavens, he could now crush anyone bare-handed.

The tide of battle swiftly turned.

“Impossible! How did you—?”

Now it was the death row prisoners’ turn to panic. Their earlier composure vanished.

Just as the Crocodile Man was about to show off, the Mad Scientist urgently warned, “Hurry up and fight! You only have three minutes. Kill as many as you can!”

Hearing the time limit, the Crocodile Man didn’t dare waste a second. He charged at the death row prisoners with terrifying speed.

The death row prisoners tried to flee, knowing they only needed to last three minutes.

Seeing them run, the larger prisoners and overlords desperately blocked their escape.

They knew that once the Crocodile Man’s power was suppressed again, they’d be the ones slaughtered.

If they didn’t fight now, when would they?

At this moment, the Football Nation Chosen One raised his mirror, positioning it before a death row prisoner.

The death row prisoner seemed to know better than to look at it—but closing his eyes would leave him vulnerable to the Crocodile Man’s attack.

In that split second of hesitation, the Crocodile Man’s fist caved in his skull.

The sheer force of the blow exploded the prisoner’s head like a watermelon.

Splattered in blood, the Crocodile Man grew even more ferocious, his eyes glowing red.

With only five death row prisoners present, the Crocodile Man killed four within three minutes. The fifth escaped too quickly to catch.

Once the Crocodile Man shrank back to normal, the prisoners could only switch to defense.

By the end of the battle, a hundred prisoners had died, trading their lives to eliminate four death row prisoners.

The exhausted Chosen Ones collapsed to the ground, utterly spent.

The remaining two hundred prisoners cheered as if victorious, carrying the corpses of the death row prisoners away.

According to prison rules, killing four death row prisoners meant their group had triumphed in the Hall of Repentance. Tomorrow, they could begin the process of being released.

The Football Nation Chosen One, acting as the Crocodile Man’s strategist, subtly suggested that he recruit more followers. Once outside, they could dominate the wasteland together.

He even proposed collaborating with the Mad Scientist and the Lightning Man, claiming that as a newcomer, he knew the outside world was in chaos.

In truth, the Chosen One was preparing for the impending apocalypse. The more allies he had, the higher his chances of survival.

This was the best an ordinary Chosen One could manage.

The Crocodile Man agreed, impressed by his insight. Without his keen observations, they might all have died here.

Standing atop the four death row prisoners’ corpses, the Crocodile Man delivered an impassioned speech, rallying the crowd.

Given his reputation and strength, the prisoners eagerly followed his lead.

The Football Nation Chosen One became the first to secure his release.

As for the “meat” reward in the Hall of Repentance? He didn’t even dare think about it.

With one death row prisoner still alive, and everyone having narrowly escaped death once already, no one was willing to take further risks.

The prison overlords were also too exhausted to continue exploring.

The Hall of Repentance presented too many choices, leading to wildly different outcomes.

The Football Nation Chosen One represented the standard answer—he survived with nearly two hundred allies.

Thanks to luck, ruthlessness, and a bit of cunning, he now had a fighting chance in the coming apocalypse.

But others weren’t so fortunate.

Goncharov, the Chosen One from Bear Nation, faced a dire situation.

Playing it safe, he was caught in a massacre by the death row prisoners at 8:30 PM, when the exhausted prisoners stood no chance.

If not for the Mad Scientist releasing his restrictions at the last moment and personally killing two death row prisoners, buying time for the others to flee, everyone would have died.

Goncharov barely escaped by hiding in a filthy, stinking sewer.

Worse, his ally, the Lightning Man, had been killed. With all the prison overlords dead, he could only wait for the Hall of Repentance’s doors to open and leave alone.

Even if he survived prison tomorrow, his chances in the apocalypse were slim.

The apocalypse hadn’t even arrived yet, and he had gained no enhancements. He would face the catastrophe alone.

At this point, the experts on Blue Star finally realized the purpose of this prison ordeal: Chosen Ones must either gather allies or strengthen themselves.

The Football Nation Chosen One had allies.

Goncharov had nothing.

Only two individuals truly pursued the path of self-strengthening.

Abdul from Turban Nation strengthened himself.

Zhang Yangqing from Dragon Nation strengthened his follower.

But the most brutally tricked was Greco, the Chosen One from Pasta Nation.

After completing all the repentance tasks, Greco was also targeted by the death row prisoners.

In his group, the Crocodile Man and the Lightning Man were the first to die.

Relying on divine protection and his own agility, Greco narrowly avoided death multiple times.

At the critical moment, the Mad Scientist released his restrictions.

The Mad Scientist wasn’t stupid—he sensed Greco’s strength. Facing five death row prisoners, Greco showed resentment, not fear. That had to mean something, right?

After all, true beasts walk alone.

So he took a gamble and unlocked Greco’s power.

What followed was a rampage.

Frustrated and now brimming with holy energy, Greco punched straight through a death row prisoner’s chest in one second.

He didn’t hold back. The holy energy-infused strike didn’t just obliterate the prisoner—it also blasted a massive hole through the Hall of Repentance’s wall.

The sheer destructive force stunned all spectators.

But the real shock came next.

With the wall breached, guards flooded in.

“Hah! You think I’m afraid of you now that my restrictions are gone?”

Lost in bloodlust, Greco went on a killing spree.

In under three minutes, he demolished every structure in his path, slaughtered hundreds of guards, and stormed out of the steel fortress—unstoppable.

But once outside, he froze.

His holy energy was gone.

The three-minute time limit had expired. The Mad Scientist’s interference had ended, and the wristband once again suppressed Greco’s power.

Greco had assumed the Mad Scientist had permanently removed his restrictions. That was why he had gone all out.

He never expected the freedom to last only three minutes.

Internally, Greco cursed the Mad Scientist. “Why didn’t you tell me it was only three minutes?!”

The Mad Scientist would’ve protested: “I didn’t even get a chance to explain before you charged out! How is that my fault?!”

To put it bluntly, Greco couldn’t even return to the prison now.

This was precisely why Zhang Yangqing, despite his overwhelming power, still followed the rules—to avoid game-breaking bugs.

He needed to understand all the rules before acting recklessly.

In this Strange Tales world, he was playing on easy mode. If he seemed restrained, it was only because of this.

Greco, once his powers were unlocked, was also playing on easy mode.

But he stumbled into a catastrophic bug.

Yes, he had escaped—but his wristband remained active. Not only had he lost his power, but he also had no idea how the scenario would conclude.

Now, he stood there, utterly lost.

Like the clarity that follows a moment of passion, he had entered a state of enlightenment.

Or, as Zhang Yangqing would say:

“No big deal. Just be more careful in your next life!”