I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: All Fear Stems From Insufficient Firepower!

Zhang Yangqing had no idea that the audience outside had already lost all hope in him.

He was simply following the security guard’s rules.

Wasn’t the task just to verify whether the wax figures matched the photos? All he had to do was follow the instructions.

Since he was now playing the role of a security guard, he had to do it properly.

As for how to play the role or interpret the rules—that was entirely up to Zhang Yangqing.

Why wasn’t Zhang Yangqing afraid? Because all fear stems from insufficient firepower.

When you have enough firepower at your disposal, it’s the supernatural that should fear you.

Other chosen participants were nervously using their phones to take pictures, terrified of making even the slightest mistake.

In this dark, horrifying, and eerily silent environment, surrounded by wax figures, how could any normal person not be scared?

Some were shaking so badly they could barely hold their phones.

And then, the first casualty appeared.

The participant from India accidentally dropped his phone.

As he bent down to pick it up in a panic, his head slammed into a wax figure in the pitch-black darkness.

Boom!

The sound of the wax figure shattering upon impact echoed through the hall.

His heart lurched, pounding violently. He suddenly realized what he had done.

Before he could even curse the unstable base of the wax figure, countless pairs of glowing red eyes appeared in the surrounding darkness.

The next second, a blood-curdling scream resounded through the wax museum.

The Indian participant’s screen went black.

By breaking the wax figure, he had violated Rule 5—resulting in instant failure.

The supernatural horror began to descend upon a city in India.

In an instant, terror engulfed the entire area.

As Indian viewers lamented their misfortune, they switched to neighboring broadcasts, hoping to find solace in others’ suffering.

But when they tuned in, they were baffled.

Their participant had died despite being ultra-cautious, yet the participant from China—who was acting so recklessly—was still alive?

Was Rule 3 wrong?

Just as they were pondering this, another incident unfolded inside the horror scenario.

The participant from France thought he heard someone calling his name. In his nervous state, he instinctively turned around—only to lock eyes with a wax figure.

The figure was holding a chainsaw, modeled after a character from Saw.

The next second, the terrifying roar of the chainsaw revving up sent chills down the spines of viewers worldwide.

The French participant, seeing the murderous wax figure charging at him, immediately bolted, his survival instincts kicking into overdrive.

But after desperately dodging and hiding, his stamina began to wane.

Just as French viewers prayed for his safety, their screen turned crimson—another failure.

He had been caught by the chainsaw-wielding horror.

The night patrol had only just begun, yet accidents were already piling up.

Out of two hundred screens, over forty had gone dark.

The remaining participants slowly adapted to the darkness.

Among them, the American participant, John, stood out—topping the popularity charts for this round’s participants.

Meanwhile, China’s Zhang Yangqing remained firmly in last place.

Every move he made had Chinese viewers clutching their seats in fear.

To them, this guy was practically begging for death.

Viewers from countries whose participants had already failed flocked to the Chinese and American broadcasts—some hoping to witness China’s downfall, others eager to learn from John’s strategies.

The international chat room exploded with comments:

• “How the hell is China’s guy still alive despite being so reckless?” (IP: India)
• “Did he unlock some hidden buff after losing nine times in a row?” (IP: India)
• “No way. I think he’s just got nerves of steel. Did you see how he ignored the ghosts calling him? He must’ve memorized the rules.” (IP: Pakistan)
• “Either way, America’s John is unstoppable. Another flawless victory, huh? Must be nice being a superpower. Wonder how my immigration paperwork’s going…” (IP: France)
• “Go lick America’s boots somewhere else! Get out of France!” (IP: France)
• “How do I immigrate? I want to be under America’s protection!” (IP: Japan)
• “Typical of America’s lapdog. Too bad they don’t take trash.” (IP: South Korea)
• “Who you calling trash? If anything, we’re your granddaddies!” (IP: Japan)

South Korea and Japan were busy arguing over who was America’s son and who was America’s grandson, completely oblivious to how pathetic they looked.

But just as the online feud heated up, another crisis struck inside the horror scenario.

Many participants’ phones suddenly died—leaving them unable to compare the wax figures to the photos.

At this critical moment, with most participants far from the security room, their phones gave out.

Panic spread like wildfire.

Back in the real world, analysts from various countries scrambled to figure out what went wrong.

China’s survival expert, Hu Liuqi, suddenly realized something.

“Did you notice the time gap?” he said. “After the participants entered the scenario, even after reading the rules, there was still a ten-minute window before the patrol started. That was the scenario’s way of giving them time to charge their phones. Most didn’t realize this—only a handful checked their battery levels and found the charging port in the security room.”

It was a deadly oversight.

The horror scenarios were meticulously designed.

Those ten minutes weren’t just for mental preparation—some understood that the horror began the moment they entered.

Clear-headed participants like John had already charged their phones and left the security room only when the time was up.

That was why he remained calm and methodical during the comparisons.

Only a rare few could stay this composed in such a terrifying environment.

The other experts nodded in agreement, praising Hu Liuqi’s sharp analysis.

But then, one expert frowned.

“I get all that… but our participant left the security room ten minutes early. He didn’t even use his phone to take pictures. So why is he still alive?”

The room fell silent.

All eyes turned to Hu Liuqi.

His smug expression froze.

How the hell should I know?

After a long pause, everyone returned to watching the screens.

They could only chalk up Zhang Yangqing’s survival to sheer dumb luck.

Maybe he’d taken a safer patrol route by chance.

Those with charged phones continued their comparisons.

Those without power scrambled for solutions.

Some tried returning to the security room—but no matter how hard they searched, it was gone.

As if it had vanished into thin air.

The wax museum had no charging ports—not even cables.

Many guessed that the security room would only reappear after they found a key item during the patrol.

Rule 4 hinted at this: “If you find a wax figure that doesn’t match its photo, you may return to the security room.”

So they had no choice but to backtrack and re-examine the wax figures.

The quick-witted ones rushed to the restroom, smashed a mirror with their batons, and grabbed a shard of glass.

By angling the glass just right under their flashlights, they could compare the wax figures to the photos without looking directly at them.

After all, Rule 3 only forbade direct eye contact.

This was a clever workaround.

Others, bolder but more reckless, resorted to feeling the wax figures’ faces—like blind men inspecting an elephant.

As long as they didn’t damage the statues, they could roughly judge if the faces matched the photos.

It was risky, but in a crisis, doing something was better than nothing.

Then there was China’s participant—whose methods left everyone baffled.

He just stared at the wax figures.

And somehow, he was still alive.

Meanwhile, others who’d accidentally glanced at the figures were already pushing up daisies.

Everyone sighed in disbelief.

China’s guy must have insane luck.

As time passed, more screens went dark.

But just as the participants were carefully avoiding the wax figures’ eyes—something terrifying happened.

Almost simultaneously, as the participants checked the figures against the photos…

The wax figures moved.

Many participants, heads bowed in concentration, suddenly found a wax figure’s face inches from theirs.

Their eyes met.

The wax figures’ eyes glowed red.

The horror was indescribable.

America’s John reacted fastest.

The moment he saw the wax figure’s torso twist, he covered his eyes—saving himself.

The rules were absolute.

As long as he didn’t see the wax figure’s eyes, even if it was a supernatural entity, it couldn’t harm him.

Understanding the rules meant using them against the horrors.

This strategy had worked in past scenarios.

The quick-thinking participants averted their gaze or shut their eyes in time.

But many weren’t so lucky.

In this wave alone, 137 out of 200 screens turned black.

Against the supernatural, ordinary humans stood no chance.

137 participants—eliminated.

As grief-stricken viewers mourned their losses, they instinctively switched to China’s broadcast.

They assumed China’s participant would’ve died in this round—and wanted to console themselves with his demise.

But what they saw left them stunned.

On the screen, as a wax figure locked eyes with Zhang Yangqing—

Before it could even react—

WHAM!

A baton smashed into its face with lightning speed.

The wax figure’s head flew off, rolling several meters before hitting a wall.

Then, a thunderous roar shook the entire hall:

“WHO THE HELL SAID YOU COULD LOOK AT ME?!”