I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Something Extraordinary on the Third Floor!

After finishing their steaks, the Chosen Ones felt their energy fully restored. Their stamina was replenished—perhaps a special effect of the food in this paranormal world.

However, for 14 of the Chosen, the second steak was lethally poisonous. Eating it would likely turn them into wax figures. Many chose to discard the toxic meat, stashing it in the security room’s cabinet.

“This might be useful later. No, I should keep it with me.”

At first, Egypt’s Chosen One, Rahman, had also planned to throw the meat away. But then it struck him—the female entity in the exhibition room had mentioned she was starving and craved meat. Even as a wax figure, she was still hungry. That meant this meat could serve as bait. It didn’t necessarily have to be for her; other entities might want it too. This piece of meat might just save his life someday.

So, he carefully portioned the meat and carried it with him, just in case.

Rahman wasn’t an ordinary Chosen One. Rumor had it his family had served as guardians of the pharaohs for generations, and he himself was an expert archaeologist. Frequent expeditions into dangerous territories had honed his courage, physical prowess, and intellect. In many ways, Rahman was similar to Hu Liuqi—both were skilled survivors. The only difference was that one operated openly, while the other worked in the shadows.

Several other Chosen Ones shared Rahman’s line of thinking.

Once prepared, the group left the security room. But this time, something felt off in the lobby.

During their first two patrols, they had grown somewhat familiar with the lobby’s layout. But now, on their third patrol, they noticed something unsettling—some of the wax figures seemed to have disappeared.

Those who had survived this long had sharp senses. This couldn’t just be their imagination. Sometimes, intuition mattered most.

The 4:00 a.m. patrol was destined to be anything but peaceful.

Most Chosen Ones opted to check the surveillance room first. Rahman, who had the key, scanned the map for accessible areas. After all, rewards like this were meant to aid their survival.

Soon, he arrived at the storage room door. But as he passed the exhibition room, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The gaze seemed elusive. Rahman used his phone’s front camera to glance behind him—nothing was there. The unease made him quicken his pace.

It wasn’t just Rahman. Aside from the Chosen One who had moved the wax figure back to its original spot and Zhang Yangqing, nearly everyone else felt the same eerie sensation.

At the storage room entrance—the same place where America’s popular Chosen One, John, had met his end—the audience watching the live feed grew restless.

“If John had come here earlier, maybe he would’ve survived.”
“There wasn’t enough time. This place is deep on the third floor. John only had ten minutes after leaving the security room—he had to find the meat and check the surveillance footage. No way he could’ve made it.”
“True. With twenty minutes, he might’ve uncovered all the clues and lived.”
“I doubt it. Look at Rahman—he’s inside the storage room now, and there’s no antidote.”

The American viewers fell silent. They had assumed the storage room held the antidote—John just hadn’t reached it in time. But now, it seemed survival was purely a gamble. If you ate the poisoned meat, death was inevitable.

Of course, for ordinary people, it was a gamble. For that one exception, luck didn’t even factor in.

The Americans, unwilling to accept defeat, scrambled to glorify John’s bravery. Their nation excelled at crafting superhero narratives.

Zhang Yangqing also entered the storage room. Unlike the others’ caution, he moved with casual ease, as if strolling through his own home.

Inside, among many empty boxes, one stood out for its weight. Zhang Yangqing opened it to find a wax-coated set of gear:

• A lifelike wax mask

• Wax gloves

• A wax vest

Zhang Yangqing remained unimpressed, but the other two Chosen Ones were thrilled.

The gear smelled faintly of wax but was lightweight and easy to wear.

“Holy crap. If I’m right, wearing this might stop the wax figures from attacking me.”

Rahman analyzed calmly. Since this was a reward, it had to be tied to survival. The texture matched the wax figures he’d touched before. So far, he’d never seen wax figures attack each other—otherwise, the exhibition room’s entities would’ve torn each other apart long ago.

His theory? Wax figures only targeted the living. They wanted something from humans—maybe meat.

But he wasn’t about to test this blindly. First, he’d try it on a weaker entity. Before that, though, he suited up in the wax disguise.

Of the four Chosen Ones who found the key, two had already donned their wax gear and left the storage room. The other two didn’t—one was dead, the other couldn’t be bothered.

Especially Zhang Yangqing, who tossed the wax set back into the box with visible disdain. The scene was almost comical.

Chinese viewers couldn’t help but laugh.

“The boss is like, ‘This trash? You insulting me? Give me a real challenge.’”
“I wouldn’t wear that either. I just don’t like ‘covering up.’”
“You better mean the disguise.”
“Obviously the disguise. What were you thinking?”
“Funny, so was I.”
“For normal players, this is a godsend. For the boss? Useless!”

Why bother with a disguise when you could slaughter the entities outright?

Zhang Yangqing didn’t linger long before leaving the storage room.

The storage room was on the third floor. From the first-floor security room near the entrance, it took about five minutes at a normal pace. The path led through the lobby and exhibition hall on the first floor, past the second floor’s exhibition room, cafeteria, and surveillance room, before finally reaching the third floor.

The third floor had two paths. Turning left led through two corridors to the storage room. Along the way were rooms labeled 3-1 to 3-4—unmarked on the map, and few dared to explore them.

One Chosen One, standing outside Room 3-2, sensed a bone-chilling cold seeping from within. The door was frosted over, as if it were a freezer.

Or perhaps, something far more terrifying was frozen inside.