I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 64

Chapter 64: Not Just Unafraid—He Didn’t Even Care in the Slightest!

Many chosen ones might, in the encounters to come, piece together clues to figure out how to escape.

But Zhang Yangqing hadn’t even entered the cafeteria yet, and he was already thinking about how to secure the special reward.

His intelligence and judgment were several versions ahead of the other chosen ones.

Zhang Yangqing showed the air freshener to people from three different factions and got different answers.

The doctor and nurse gave the same response. Assuming the doctor was neutral, the nurse was likely neutral as well.

The nurse simply followed protocol, spraying the freshener on newly admitted patients.

Interestingly, neither the doctor nor the nurse used it themselves—but the nurse administered it to patients.

This suggested that once sprayed with the freshener, you’d be unable to interact with certain special “individuals” or enter specific areas.

And that’s where the so-called “special reward” lay.

Among the 57 chosen ones still alive in the hospital, only two hadn’t been sprayed with the freshener—and only one had obtained the item itself.

Unless Kangaroo Country’s chosen one, Jones, had heaven-defying luck, Zhang Yangqing would be the only one capable of claiming the special reward.

Having assessed the situation, Zhang Yangqing turned to the tourists and said, “Well? Aren’t you going to do something?”

He hadn’t brought them along just to watch him play.

Zhang Yangqing was the type to delegate whenever possible—he’d rather not lift a finger himself.

Following his orders, the tourists slaughtered the occupants of seven hospital rooms.

The massacre lasted a full ten minutes.

Blood dripped down the staircases, pooling at the base and creeping toward Zhang Yangqing’s feet.

Standing in the spreading crimson, he looked like a demonic overlord, unleashing his minions to slaughter at will.

The sight left many viewers speechless.

It completely overturned their understanding of the Rules World.

[Commentary:]

• This run’s title is “Terror Tour Group.” Other chosen ones experienced the horror of the tour—but Zhang Tian Shi is the one truly showing the Rules World who the real terror is.

• Couldn’t he have just grabbed some clothes without killing? With his skills, it’s not like they could’ve resisted.

• Wow, you still haven’t emigrated? Getting squeamish over killing mobs in a dungeon run? Why take unnecessary risks when you can secure the path?

• Other teams are killing too—why single out our own country’s chosen one? Stop the moral grandstanding.

• If you don’t kill them now, these eerie patients might retaliate later. That’s when things get dangerous.

Zhang Yangqing had no idea what the audience was saying. The only thing annoying him was:

Couldn’t you have just strangled them? Did you really have to make such a mess?

Now the clothes were soaked in blood—completely unwearable.

After berating them, he made the tourists clear out a few more rooms to gather a full set of clean white uniforms.

With his large group—including himself and the assistant—they needed 39 sets.

Still, he was the least burdened, not having to lift a finger.

The time was now 3:54 PM. The cafeteria would open for patients in 46 minutes.

Many chosen ones had already secured white uniforms and apples, planning to change their masks, rest in the director’s office, and search for escape clues there.

Those with reduced numbers, like Mitarai Saburō, struggled to gather enough uniforms and had to abandon four weaker tourists to secure just four sets.

Mitarai knew further losses were risky, but he had no choice.

Even master detectives miscalculate sometimes.

He sensed that many rules remained untriggered—and when they were, the real danger would begin.

Kangaroo Country’s chosen one, Jones, arrived at the complex building like a triumphant general.

But the deeper he went, the more unsettling the atmosphere grew.

Was it the dimming lights, or the overcast sky outside?

A cold draft swept through the hallway, sending shivers down his spine.

Despite the early hour, the area was devoid of patients.

Only the occasional doctor passed by, and nurses remained stationed at their posts.

The building felt lifeless—suffused with a sterile, medicinal chill.

Without the tourists at his back, Jones would’ve been petrified.

As the chosen ones moved through the hospital, the tension thickened.

Then—thud, thud, thud—a heavy footfall struck like a death knell.

Three figures emerged before Jones:

Black-uniformed security guards.

Riot shields.

Batons.

Gas masks.

With every breath, their masks emitted a low, guttural hiss—barely audible, yet echoing down the hall.

In this nightmare, Jones felt Death itself approaching.

Most chosen ones experienced the same helpless dread.

Rule 7’s “dangerous individuals” had arrived.

When security patrols, avoid hallways to prevent being taken to the treatment room.

Anyone with eyes could see these were elite-tier special anomalies.

Jones knew hesitation meant death.

Run.

“Legs—MOVE!” he screamed internally.

The triumphant general had become a trembling coward.

The sheer oppressive aura made his organs shrivel.

This was the closest he’d ever been to death.

Pure terror locked his muscles—until a sharp thigh pinch shocked him into motion.

He and the tourists bolted, barricading themselves in a cluttered storage room.

Footsteps passed the door.

Each one a death sentence.

Jones curled against the wall, certain discovery meant annihilation.

But the guards moved on.

Their absence left him shaking.

“What kind of monsters are these? I can’t believe Dragon Country’s transcendent fought these things last round. How is that even humanly possible?”

A mere glance had terrified him. Fighting these anomalies was suicide.

They made the tollbooth special anomalies look tame—these were enhanced.

Jones was lucky. Others, cornered, were dragged to the treatment room.

Even the toughest tourist anomalies were obliterated—skulls shattered by a single baton strike.

The power gap was insurmountable.

Doomed chosen ones could only despair.

Their audiences, unable to bear the executions, switched to Dragon Country’s feed.

How would he handle this?

The answer stunned them.

Dragon Country’s chosen one didn’t just remain calm upon seeing the gas-masked guards.

He didn’t even acknowledge them.

Without breaking stride, he led his group straight toward the patrol.

A blatant provocation!

Was he truly unafraid?

Zhang Yangqing wasn’t trying to provoke anyone. He was just walking.

Patrol if you must—but don’t block my path.

After all, the rules never said he couldn’t kill them.