I’m a Max-Level Taoist Master, and You’re Throwing Me Into a Rules-Based Horror Game?! - Chapter 91
Chapter 91: The Once Textbook-Perfect Clearer!
At this moment, gazing at the dim, eerie, and sinister corridor,
Many chosen ones had already climbed through the windows into the hallway.
After getting drenched in the rain, they felt genuinely unwell—
Almost as if running a high fever, they trudged back to their rooms with heavy steps.
Their bodies seemed burdened with multiple negative debuffs.
For superhumans, their higher resistance only delayed the onset of adverse reactions.
Soon, dizziness and blurred vision set in.
Ordinary chosen ones experienced nausea and vomiting.
Clearly, this rain was no less deadly than the toxic gas of Smiling Sanitarium.
On top of that, an overwhelming drowsiness crept in, making every step feel like a struggle.
A single lapse in focus could send someone collapsing to the ground.
Thankfully, this batch of participants had decent physical conditioning—if they’d been randomly selected, some might not have even survived this minor stage.
At least in the hospital, there were doctors to help and fellow travelers to rely on.
Here? No one even knew how to counteract the effects. What a pain.
Perhaps the design of this horror realm was to force the chosen ones to experience the rain’s lethality firsthand—
So they’d think twice before recklessly stepping out into it later.
After all, facing over a dozen ferocious ghosts was no small feat.
But who could’ve guessed?
There was one chosen one who strolled right out the front door—completely unbothered.
Zhang Yangqing was the only participant who didn’t get drenched.
Not a single adverse effect plagued him.
On the way back to their rooms, the chosen ones realized just how dangerous this dungeon was.
They only had one raincoat—meaning just two hours of safe outdoor exploration per day.
Subtracting the time needed to buy food, their window for gathering clues was extremely tight.
Whether they could uncover useful intel depended on how well they interpreted the hints.
Most of their time would likely be spent inside this building.
Right now, the burly American scholar, Miller, was breathing heavily.
He’d injected himself with high-potency stimulants to boost his resistance to supernatural hazards.
Even so, his body was struggling—all he wanted was to lie down and rest.
Just three minutes in the rain did this to me…
Five minutes would probably be a death sentence.
Yet as he neared his door, he forced himself to focus.
The chain-smoker’s intel had provided two key rules:
-
“All animals in the community are carnivorous—and highly intelligent. Never let small creatures near you while resting.”
-
“Before sleeping each night, lock all furniture securely. This ensures ‘those things’ won’t manifest.”
The first rule was clear: the black cat could eat him.
Don’t show weakness in front of it—or it might strike.
Of course, he also had to feed it to avoid trouble.
After all, he still needed the cat’s protection.
The black cat was a double-edged sword—misuse led to disaster, but mastery meant survival.
The real first challenge was surviving the initial night.
Since the rules only mentioned the bedroom as a safe zone, everywhere else was likely hazardous.
Rule 8: “The bedroom is absolutely safe—provided you’re the only one inside.”
On his way back, Miller had already pieced together a plan.
The secondary bedroom—with the crib—had someone inside. Definitely off-limits.
The rule stated that the bedroom’s safety depended on “only you” being present.
That “person” could mean a living being, a corpse… or even someone in a painting.
Because in a way, painted figures were also “people.”
The secondary bedroom had two portraits—both depicting human figures.
Better safe than sorry. Avoid the secondary bedroom entirely.
Based on the clues, the master bedroom was the only logical choice.
There was no need to risk removing the portraits—
What if that counted as property damage?
Rule 4: “Large-scale damage to the property results in mission failure.”
But what defined “large-scale”? That was up to the landlord’s judgment.
This wasn’t about his interpretation—it was theirs.
The safest approach? Don’t break anything.
Next, Miller analyzed the chain-smoker’s second rule:
“Before sleeping each night, lock all furniture securely. This ensures ‘those things’ won’t manifest.”
The implication? Furniture could serve as vessels for supernatural entities.
Other rules supported this theory.
After all, in the horror realm, danger didn’t just come from ghosts—
Even objects could kill. (Remember Smiling Sanitarium’s operating table?)
This connected to Rule 14:
“If a door is broken, call a repairman. Note: Only those wearing white shoes can fix it properly.”
Here, “door” didn’t just mean the front door.
If taken literally, overlooking this could be fatal tonight.
What about cabinet doors?
Both bedrooms had large, immovable cabinets—
And they were the only potential threats inside.
Battling exhaustion and discomfort, Miller fed the cat and immediately called a repairman.
His reasoning was sound:
“I might think the cabinet doors are fine—but only a repairman can confirm that.”
After all, they knew the horror realm’s hidden dangers.
Some chosen ones might just shut the drawers, assume the cabinets were secure, and go to sleep—
Only to die because they assumed nothing was wrong.
Since the rules mentioned repairmen, why wait?
This was life or death.
Besides, it wasn’t like the service was free.
Miller dialed the number listed in the rules.
“Hello? I need a repairman. My door isn’t working properly.”
A gruff voice answered, neither friendly nor hostile.
Glancing at the clock—10:50 PM—Miller knew time was critical.
The rules mentioned midnight—meaning things would get much worse after 12.
He needed the repairman now.
Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang—
Startling Miller out of his drowsiness.
Peering through the peephole, he saw a repairman in uniform, face eerily blank, carrying a toolbox.
But he remembered Rule 14:
“Only those wearing white shoes can fix it properly.”
Politely, he asked the repairman to step back—
Confirming the white shoes before opening the door.
In terms of caution and rule comprehension, Miller was flawless.
He was the first to achieve a “perfect” clear with an S-rank rating—
Earning him the title of “textbook-perfect clearer.”
Of course, that title now belonged to the Dragon Nation’s chosen one—
Because while Miller got an S, that guy scored SSS.
As the door swung open, a chilling gust swept in.
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
