I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Dawn Approaches—The Final Crisis!

Time ticked away in the eerie world of the supernatural.

Zhang Yangqing lounged comfortably on the security room sofa, examining the contents of the ornate box. Outside, occasional shuffling sounds hinted at lingering entities—remnants of the night’s chaos.

The goblin security guard suddenly flung the door open and bellowed:
“Get lost, all of you! My boss is resting—one more sound and I’ll dismantle you myself!”

Credit where due—as the veteran guard, his authority still carried weight. Desperate to curry favor with Zhang Yangqing, he played his role perfectly. The corridor fell silent after his outburst.

Returning to the security room, the goblin stood rigidly by the door, statue-still.

Dragon Kingdom viewers erupted in amusement:

• “This goblin’s a total joke! Feels like comic relief with zero backbone.”
• “Only acts this way around Heavenly Master Zhang. Saw him one-shot Korea’s Olympic sprinter earlier—dude’s a stone-cold killer.”
• “Don’t underestimate him! That goblin’s face screams ‘I’ll gut you for fun’—you’d be dead in seconds.”
• “Just woke up—why’s our guy vacationing while others fight for survival?”
• “Because we randomly drew a cultivator this time—a Heavenly Master!”
• “Wait, WHAT? Gotta rewatch this!”

While Zhang Yangqing relaxed, the seven remaining Chosen Ones endured agony.

They knew: one misstep now meant death. Survival demanded perfection.

After thirty minutes in Room 3-2’s subzero chill, some contestants’ hair had frozen solid. Yet their enhanced physiques endured—this was merely discomfort.

Surviving a two-star supernatural event was statistically bleak. They clenched their teeth and persevered.

7:00 AM

A mechanical hum signaled the climate system reactivating. Footsteps outside dwindled… then vanished entirely.

The Frost Wax Statue remained motionless in its cryo-pod, offering no farewell. The letter’s instructions clearly forbade it from harming contestants—unless attacked first.

(None were foolish enough to test that theory.)

Egypt’s contestant, Rahman, stretched stiff limbs and peered through the door’s peephole. Empty.

Cautiously, he cracked the door open—warm air rushed in like salvation. After hours in 3-2’s deep freeze, even this mild heat soothed his aching body.

But survival instincts kept him alert.

Rule #1: Never drop your guard until it’s truly over.

No one charged outside immediately. What if the entities were lying in ambush?

The climate system had just activated—its “sealing” effect might not yet be fully operational. Most contestants lingered near the door, ready to retreat if needed.

Rule #2: Prepare for the final sprint.

They stretched and warmed up, restoring their bodies to peak condition.

Rule 10 was clear:
“Shift change occurs at 8:00 AM.”

This didn’t mean safety at 8:00 sharp—it meant reaching the exit by then.

Past contestants had died during this final stretch.

From the third floor to the main entrance: 5-8 minutes at full speed.

Dangers could lurk anywhere. Agility would be key.

Rahman, ever meticulous, descended step by step. His phone’s flashlight probed every shadowy corner before he moved.

Reaching the second floor, he didn’t rush toward the lobby—potential traps awaited. Instead, he ducked into the surveillance room.

The monitors confirmed his suspicions: several wax figures had shifted positions.

He memorized their locations and waited.

Meanwhile…

The goblin guard outside repeatedly called, demanding early entry. Most contestants ignored the calls; those who answered offered vague excuses.

(None dared provoke him.)

The surveillance feed showed the goblin’s patience wearing thin—his face twisted with rage, a far cry from the groveling creature beside Zhang Yangqing.

7:40 AM

Two new figures appeared at the museum’s entrance.

Dressed in standard security uniforms, they looked utterly ordinary—the type you’d forget instantly on a busy street.

They immediately argued with the goblin guard. The confrontation escalated… until, shockingly, the duo overpowered and drove him off within minutes.

7:45 AM

The new guards called the contestants:
“All clear now—it’s almost shift change. Could you open up?”

Their tone was polite, their demeanor normal.

But Rahman remembered Rule 10’s ironclad wording: 8:00 AM, not a minute sooner.

“Apologies,” he replied smoothly, “dealing with an issue here. I’ll open promptly at eight.”

“Need help with that?” they offered.

“No need, but thank you.” He hung up.

An old family tale echoed in Rahman’s mind:
Some creatures are vicious only during specific hours. Outside that window? Harmless.

These guards might seem benign now—but he wouldn’t risk breaking the rules.

Back in Zhang Yangqing’s timeline…

After ending the same call, the Heavenly Master glanced at his cowering goblin guard.

“So,” he mused, “should I open the door?”

A bead of sweat rolled down the goblin’s forehead.

He knew:
One wrong word meant death.