I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 54

Chapter 54: If Anyone’s Going to the Safe House, It Should Be Me!

Mitarai Saburō had a bold hypothesis forming in his mind.

But as a detective, without sufficient evidence, it remained nothing more than a far-fetched guess.

He examined the hospital’s aerial map displayed behind the front desk.

The complex included the General Building, Outpatient Building, Surgical Building, Internal Medicine Building, and Inpatient Ward—each a massive structure in its own right.

Looks like hospitals are wealthy, whether in the real world or the paranormal one.

Aside from the labeled areas, there were several unmarked buildings on the map.

Maybe those are where the cafeteria is located.

Judging by the scale, this was a fairly large hospital.

With the time now at 3:00 PM, touring the entire place within two hours would be exhausting.

As he studied the map, Mitarai began analyzing:

“The Inpatient Ward is likely the most dangerous. There are many patients there, and Rule 6 mentions their unstable emotions—’Do not disturb them when they’re asleep.’

But to locate the cafeteria, I’ll still need to visit the ward. Before that, I should secure the weaker travelers in a safe house to ensure they survive until 5:00 PM.

The General Building probably has offices, and there might be a safe house there. I’ll head there first.”

Through careful rule analysis, Mitarai quickly formulated a plan. His reasoning left viewers from Sakura Country in awe.

• “He’s practically born to clear these dungeons. I’d call him the ‘Ultimate Survivor’!”

• “Small team, precise targets, cautious moves—I can’t think of any reason he’d fail.”

• “While other players are still gathering intel, Mitarai-sama has already set his objectives. That’s the difference.”

• “Finding the safe house early means safety sooner. Is this really his first paranormal dungeon?”

Sakura Country’s audience hailed Mitarai as a legend, even boasting about his skills online and inviting skilled individuals to immigrate and “build the strongest empire on Blue Star!”

Unaware of the hype, Mitarai remained focused on minimizing mistakes and conserving energy. The journey here had already drained the group.

The paranormal world wears you down. Securing ingredients isn’t enough—getting out alive is the real challenge.

Preparing thoroughly meant leaving no detail overlooked.

After snapping a photo of the hospital map, Mitarai followed the front desk nurse’s directions to locate the nursing stations.

According to her, each building had one—and only one—nursing station.

Jones, however, had a different approach.

While Mitarai opted for an elite-team strategy to reduce errors (planning to explore with only the female spirit and his assistant, leaving the others in the safe house), Jones saw the civilians as his lifeline.

“No way am I leaving them behind in safety. If anyone’s going to the safe house, it should be me!”

“I went through hell to bring them here—they’re my human shields!”

Being cautious, Jones also found safety in numbers. He positioned two travelers at the front, kept himself and his assistant in the middle, and had the rest follow behind.

His first destination was the nursing station, followed by the Inpatient Ward.

“The most dangerous places hold the most clues. With strength in numbers, now’s the time to go.”

Currently in the Outpatient Building, he headed for the fifth-floor nursing station.

There were two ways up: the elevator or the stairs.

The elevator would save energy, but in the paranormal world, it was a gamble.

“Once those doors close, your fate is out of your hands. When they reopen, where—or what—awaits you is unknown. One malfunction, and it’s game over.”

Jones chose the stairs. “No need to take risks now.”

Though exhausted and hungry, his years as a vagrant had hardened him to discomfort.

On the fifth floor, a chill crept over him as he approached the nursing station.

The hallway was eerily quiet, the ceiling lights swaying without wind. Outside the windows, the gloomy daylight cast shifting shadows, as if something lurked just out of sight.

Jones avoided looking directly at the windows.

Rounding a corner, he spotted a patient sitting on a bench, muttering to himself:

“I’m sick… I don’t want to die… I’m sick… I don’t want to die…”

The man sat outside the Burn Unit, his nail beds crusted with reddish flecks, eyes bloodshot from sleeplessness.

Odd. His skin shows no burns. Why is he here?

Further down, muffled sounds of sawing and hammering came from examination rooms marked “DO NOT DISTURB” in red.

Jones remembered: Red warnings in the last dungeon meant danger—only pro athletes or superhumans could handle them.

“No reason to poke the bear.”

Other players were also on the move, scouting for clues.

Many regretted arriving early. “If we’d come at 4:50, we’d only have to wait ten minutes for the cafeteria. Now we’re stuck surviving two hours in this death trap.”

Meanwhile, Zhang Yangqing—after correctly answering the nurse’s question—received a “Deodorizer” as a reward.

While others rushed around, Zhang stayed calm.

As the director turned to leave, Zhang stopped him:

“Director, this is my first time here. Could you show me around?”

Most would flee from the director’s uncanny grin, but Zhang wasn’t fazed. Even if this choice led to danger, he was prepared.

“If this guy’s the director, he knows the most—and has the highest authority. Who else should I ask?”