I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 141

Chapter 141: He’s Treating Us Like Subordinates—What Do We Do?

Inside the Hall of Repentance, after the five death row inmates tossed in the sacrificial offerings, the Toothed Behemoth appeared before Zhang Yangqing.

The oppressive aura radiating from the beast made even the Snake-Eyed Underling frown. Clearly, he wasn’t confident about facing such a massive creature—but this time, he wasn’t afraid.

Maybe it was because he’d grown accustomed to such sights, or maybe it was because Zhang Yangqing stood in front of him.

Just as the five death row inmates were about to strike, a figure in an orange prison uniform stepped forward.

“You can step back now. Leave this to me,” he said to the five of them.

The sudden declaration left everyone—including the Toothed Behemoth—stunned.

The five death row inmates eyed the newcomer skeptically.

This guy’s wearing a regular prisoner’s uniform. We’re death row inmates—a rank above him. Since when does he get to order us around?

They’d worked hard to haul those offerings here. If they just backed off because he said so, wouldn’t they lose all face?

After spending so long in prison, they couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being robbed.

If Zhang Yangqing knew what they were thinking, he’d probably say: Don’t bother wondering if you’re being robbed—because you are. With my level of power, did you really think I’d negotiate with you over spoils? I’m just telling you straight up: this belongs to me now.

The Toothed Behemoth, too, seemed offended by Zhang Yangqing’s lack of respect. It had made a grand entrance, expecting terrified reactions to showcase its might.

How dare this human treat me like livestock? Does he not take me seriously at all?

Enraged, the beast let out a deafening roar that shook the entire Hall of Repentance.

In the next instant, it lunged at Zhang Yangqing with terrifying speed, its massive body leaving behind afterimages.

No one expected such a colossal creature to move so swiftly.

Each step sent dirt flying and cracked the ground beneath it, as if it intended to swallow this insolent human whole in one bite.

At this moment, the Snake-Eyed Underling kept his gaze fixed on Zhang Yangqing, waiting for his signal.

If his boss so much as gave a word or a look, he’d fight the beast to the death—even if he stood no chance—just to protect him.

But without orders, he wouldn’t act.

He was a subordinate. His job was to obey.

His boss preferred clever underlings, not those who acted on their own whims. That much was clear.

If the boss hadn’t ordered him to intervene, there was a reason. He didn’t need to question it.

That was the discipline of a proper underling.

Zhang Yangqing simply saw no need for the Snake-Eyed Underling to step in. Even after consuming the miraculous fruit, the underling was only on par with the death row inmates—far from a match for the Toothed Behemoth.

If you die here, all the effort I put into raising you would be wasted. Not that you can’t die—just not in such a meaningless place.

As the underling stood by, awaiting orders, the Toothed Behemoth closed in on Zhang Yangqing.

Its maw stretched wide enough to swallow three or five men whole.

The glint of its razor-sharp teeth promised instant dismemberment with a single bite.

Seeing this, the five death row inmates smirked.

We thought this show-off had some skill, but it looks like he’s nothing special. The beast’s right in front of him now—he doesn’t even have time to dodge!

Dodge?

Zhang Yangqing could dodge—but his opponent wasn’t worthy of making him.

If he had to dodge something like this, how could he ever command respect?

In that split second, Zhang Yangqing simply flicked his wrist—or perhaps it was more of an upward swipe.

His hand struck the beast’s chin.

BAM!

The sheer force of the impact snapped the beast’s jaws shut, its teeth shattering instantly from the collision.

Though it looked like a casual motion, the power behind it was overwhelming. The massive Toothed Behemoth was sent flying, crashing into the ceiling before plummeting back to the ground.

Its body left a crater in the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The death row inmates stared in horror, their scalps prickling with fear.

The beast that had just made its grand entrance… was gone?

If this had been an intense battle, they might not have been so shocked.

But this was a one-hit kill. They weren’t even sure they could defeat the Toothed Behemoth, yet this prisoner had obliterated it with a single casual strike.

How could they not be terrified?

The other group fought six against one and barely won after a long struggle. And you just one-shot it? That’s just unfair!

As the dust settled, Zhang Yangqing glanced at the five death row inmates.

“You lot, go prepare the ingredients. If you do a good job, I might let you have a bite.”

Not only had he stolen their prize, but now he was making them work for him.

The sheer audacity of the statement was staggering.

Viewers couldn’t help but feel that Zhang Yangqing treated this place as his own domain—as if he were the one in charge.

And honestly, they weren’t wrong. That was exactly how he saw it.

If I’m letting you live, it’s for a reason. Otherwise, do you really think a bunch of death row inmates would still be standing here?

The five inmates grumbled internally.

Wasn’t this our prey? How come you’re acting like you’re doing us a favor by letting us eat it?

But none of them dared say it aloud.

They exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond.

The Rhino Man hesitated, then whispered to the Lion Man, “He’s treating us like subordinates. What do we do?”

The Lion Man shot him a glare. “What do we do? We do what he says. What else can we do? You think you can take him on?”

The Rhino Man shook his head vigorously, as if he’d seen a ghost.

That guy just punched a monster that size into the sky. Who in their right mind would challenge him?

Trying would mean dying.

At this point, viewers finally grasped the difference between Zhang Yangqing’s and Abdul’s approaches.

Though both followed the “evolution” path, Abdul had toiled alongside the death row inmates, sharing hardships just to beg for a scrap of meat.

Zhang Yangqing, on the other hand, had instantly demonstrated his power by one-shotting the Toothed Behemoth—laying all his cards on the table from the start.

He’d ordered the death row inmates to work for him, then graciously allowed them a share of the spoils.

As for whether they had a choice?

Zhang Yangqing never gave others the right to negotiate.

If they refused, their only alternative was death.

This was Zhang Yangqing’s signature style—simple and effective.

He never hid his strength or played sneaky tricks. He didn’t care about life or death. If you had a problem with him, you were welcome to fight.

His power was on full display. If you thought you could kill him, go ahead and try.

If you couldn’t, then you’d obey.

And he might spare you.

With just one move, Zhang Yangqing had made his stance abundantly clear.

Because anyone with eyes could see: there was no choice.

Viewers had initially thought their strategies were similar, but now the differences were stark.

Abdul had gained enough strength to negotiate with the natives.

That much was obvious—without his newfound power, the death row inmates wouldn’t have given him the time of day.

But Zhang Yangqing? His was absolute strength—the kind that forced the natives to submit.

That, too, was obvious. Only with his level of power could he make others listen.

Still, neither of them killed the death row inmates. Both knew these prisoners held valuable intel.

Several rules had hinted that interacting with them was necessary for the evolution path.

The difference was, while Abdul had to work hard to earn the right to ask questions, Zhang Yangqing simply demanded answers.

And the death row inmates shared useful information with both.

According to the Lion Man, the prison periodically released batches of death row inmates into the “Paradise.”

They didn’t know the specifics, but if they met the requirements, they too could leave tomorrow.

Abdul asked, “What requirements?”

The Rhino Man, busy eating, replied, “There’s a tester. If it shows a power level of six stars, you’re out. We were all five-star before this. Hopefully, after eating, we’ll hit six. I’m sick of rotting in this hellhole.”

The others nodded. Prison life was monotonous and brutal.

If given the chance, who’d want to stay?

Abdul understood all too well—after all, he was a prisoner on the outside!

As Zhang Yangqing had guessed, the death row inmates’ mission was entirely different from the regular prisoners’.

This trial’s outcome likely hinged on which door the challengers chose.

Leaving with the death row inmates meant the “apocalypse” route.

Once the prison unleashed these inmates, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Leaving with the regular prisoners meant the “survival” route—facing relentless attacks and chaos.

At this stage, Abdul had gained some strength, but he’d only eaten scraps left by the death row inmates. He hadn’t dared ask for the prime cuts, since he hadn’t contributed much.

For him, getting anything was a win.

Zhang Yangqing, however, did take the best parts, leaving the leftovers for the death row inmates—who not only didn’t complain but thanked him for his generosity.

The bitter irony of having their prize stolen, then being grateful for the crumbs, was not lost on them.

“Eat up. They’re not hungry anyway.”

Zhang Yangqing nudged the Snake-Eyed Underling.

The underling felt a little guilty. Zhang Yangqing barely ate anything, while the five death row inmates watched with pitiful eyes.

But if his boss said so, who was he to refuse?

So he devoured everything he liked, leaving only the undesirable bits for the inmates.

After the meal, the underling felt an overwhelming surge of energy coursing through him—as if his body had been reforged.

This time, though, he wisely kept his excitement in check. The last thing he needed was his boss dragging him into another “sparring session.”

By around 9:40, time was running out. According to the rules, if they didn’t leave by 10:00, the doors would seal.

Zhang Yangqing could fight his way out, but there was no need. Until he knew the clear escape conditions, provoking the guards would be idiotic—and he wasn’t an idiot.

The death row inmates’ exit was on the other side of the Hall of Repentance.

Where regular prisoners had entered via a bridge, the death row path led to a tunnel.

Inside were rusted, disused railway tracks.

Abdul followed the death row inmates, figuring he could build rapport with them—maybe even recruit more.

Zhang Yangqing’s situation was… unusual. The inmates didn’t dare offend him, so they trailed behind him nervously, eagerly pointing out safe paths.

To them, currying favor with this man seemed like the smart move.

As always, the sharper NPCs recognized true power when they saw it.

Other challengers relied on NPCs to survive.

But in this dangerous world, even NPCs sought someone strong to lean on.

Of all the challengers who’d entered the Hall of Repentance, only 37 made it out alive—a pitifully low number compared to previous trials.

And the true apocalypse hadn’t even begun.

Just as viewers wondered what form this “apocalypse” would take, the escaping challengers found their answers.

Those who left through the regular prisoners’ gate saw a new rule etched on the wall:

Prisoner Rule #13:
After release, survive in Paradise for 3 days to clear the trial.

The two who left with the death row inmates saw a different rule:

Prisoner Rule #13:
After release, within 7 days, destroy Paradise and ensure 70% of its population perishes to clear the trial.

Seeing this, viewers from Turban Nation despaired.

Why is Abdul’s rule so much harder? This is a death sentence!

He chose the harder path, and now there’s no way to warn him.

After surviving this long, the trial throws him a curveball.

*How is he supposed to kill 70% of Paradise’s population? There are even seven-star powerhouses there!*

But the expert panel offered a glimmer of hope:

Not necessarily. Earlier rules hinted that destruction doesn’t require direct killing. He could sabotage Paradise’s light sources, letting the mutated plants slaughter the inhabitants.

In their view, Abdul’s task was simpler.

He’d gained three power boosts and had death row allies.

According to intel, batches of inmates were already being released into Paradise. With their help, the mission was feasible.

That was why Abdul (and Zhang Yangqing) had chosen this faction.

Meanwhile, other challengers would face attacks from both inmates and mutated plants—with little power growth. Their survival odds were slim.

Reassured, Turban Nation’s viewers regained hope.

Others grew anxious. Surviving three days in an apocalypse seemed impossible.

But Dragon Nation’s viewers had one thought:

That’s it?

For other challengers, the coming disaster was an apocalypse.

For their challenger? Once unchained, he was the apocalypse.