I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

The security guard with the mustache must have some discernment to have survived this long.

He didn't know why his "seriously injured" older brother would say that, but then he thought about it and realized that his older brother was no ordinary person, and what his older brother had done was beyond his comprehension.

Since his elder brother has said so, what is he afraid of? Anyway, if the sky falls, his elder brother will hold it up.

The security guard with the mustache answered the phone and said impatiently, "Are you ever going to stop?"

The goblin security guard on the other end of the phone was overjoyed to hear the other person answer, but his tone remained calm, as if he were reasoning with an ignorant junior: "Your situation is very dangerous right now. Trust me, I am a security guard who survived here. I will not lie to you. Of course, I also want something. I just want to make a deal. You do me a favor, and I will help you get through the night."

The security guard with the mustache pretended to ponder for a moment, then sighed, as if he had no other choice but to take a gamble: "Fine, I'll open the door for you."

I have to say, this kid's acting skills are pretty good.

After hanging up the phone, the mustachioed security guard put his phone in his pocket, clapped his hands, and walked towards the main gate.

He knew in his heart that the security guard's rule 1 had been triggered.

[Rule 1: The wax museum closes promptly at 12:00 noon, and no one is allowed to enter or leave, regardless of any requests made from inside or outside the museum].

These were the rules he memorized on his first day at the company, and he knew them by heart.

But now he has broken that rule, yet he hasn't died.

What does this mean? It means that danger and opportunity coexist.

Rules are rigid, but people are flexible.

Breaking the rules doesn't necessarily mean death; the key is how you respond after breaking the rules.

The mustachioed security guard walked along, thinking to himself: I can't completely trust anyone right now.

The woman upstairs locked in the staff break room said a mix of truth and lies.

I wonder how much of what this guy in front of me, who claims to be a former security guard, says is credible.

And that mysterious older brother, I don't know why he came here.

In that case, why not use that guy outside, let him in, observe his behavior, determine his purpose, and extract useful information from his words?

The mustachioed security guard's experience taught him not to trust anyone, but to take advantage of anyone.

Zhang Yangqing and the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes retreated into the shadows.

At the corner of the corridor, behind an archway, in a place where the moonlight cannot reach.

The two stood there, motionless, like two wax figures.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes held her breath, but Zhang Yangqing didn't even blink.

The security guard with the mustache walked to the gate, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

The goblin security guard outside the door was overjoyed when he saw the door open, and he almost couldn't keep his composure.

Finally, another one has fallen for the scam!

It has to be said that the goblin security guard learned from his mistakes; last time, a guard opened the door for him and almost beat him to death.

That handsome security guard's strength is practically unknown; he's probably even stronger than the curator.

Therefore, the goblin security guards came to a conclusion, or rather, an intelligence pattern: any security guard who opens the door directly and then acts all frivolous is not someone to mess with.

After all, that handsome security guard once said: "I dare to open the door for you, do you still dare to come in?"
This statement made the goblin guard reflect, and it made sense.

The gate had just opened, and the goblin security guard didn't rush in. He sized up the guard with the mustache.

The kid had wounds on his body and his clothes were tattered, as if he had been attacked.

Moreover, his expression was somewhat solemn and wary.

What does this mean?
This shows that he was tormented by the strange things here.

This means he's afraid of me! The goblin security guard's analysis: This kid isn't very strong. I had to call twice before he opened the door, so he probably had no other choice.

If he had any confidence, he wouldn't have opened the door for me at all, or he wouldn't have opened it a second time; he would have opened it long ago.

A person who is afraid is an easy person to control.

Thinking this, the goblin security guard breathed a sigh of relief and swaggered in.

He straightened his back, a smug smile playing on his lips, a smile that looked particularly ugly in the moonlight.

The security guard with the mustache frowned, standing on one side of the door, one hand on the door panel and the other on his baton.

He watched as the goblin guard walked in, stopping three steps away from him before speaking, his tone icy: "Stop. What brings you here? How am I supposed to get through this?"

The goblin security guard crossed his arms, tilted his head, and said in a tone that suggested he was only speaking to him because he thought highly of him, "Kid, I'll help you if I say I will, but you have to help me solve a problem first."

His voice was still as unpleasant as ever, but his tone now carried a condescending arrogance.

The mustachioed security guard neither immediately refused nor immediately agreed; he simply asked, "Tell me about it; my abilities are limited."

The mustachioed security guard knew that intelligence was crucial for survival in this place.

The goblin security guard didn't rush to answer. He simply walked into the hall, his gaze shifting from one wax figure to another, as if reminiscing about something. Then he casually said, "Give me your access card, then hide in the security room. I'll give it back to you after I'm done."

The goblin security guard entered the wax museum with only one purpose: to steal the safe in the staff break room.

That safe requires two access cards to open.

The security guard with the mustache was a newly hired employee and had a card in his hand.

The other one is in the upstairs cold storage room, on the icy, eerie security guard who is still temporarily asleep.

His purpose in coming here tonight is to get those two cards and open the safe.

To open the safe, there's another problem: dealing with the wax museum's current boss, the strange female employee in the staff break room.

Of course, the curator is definitely the biggest boss here, but that old guy won't easily show up unless the wax museum is going to be demolished.

The goblin security guards know the time period when the curator will appear, so they can avoid him in a reasonable way.

If we consider him as a 'chosen one' from the perspective of goblin security, then the task he is currently undertaking is also very difficult.

He tricked a newly hired security guard into opening the door, killed a former security guard colleague to get the access card, and also had to deal with that strange female employee.

But he has already taken the first step: the door is open.

As long as the mustachioed security guard obeys, he wouldn't mind sparing his life.

Anyway, his target was only the contents of the safe; there was no need for him to commit further killings.

In fact, many of the chosen ones who deciphered the encrypted letters in the wax museum would have known that the goblin security guard resigned because he coveted the contents of the safe. After being discovered, he was "forced" to resign.

Who knows if they were kicked out?

When the mustachioed security guard heard that this incredibly ugly guy wanted his access card, he shook his head: "No, I'm a security guard, it's my duty to protect the access cards, I can't give them to you."

His tone was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

The goblin security guard laughed, a laugh full of mockery: "Dude, I don't think you're any good. You only make that little bit of money a month, what are you risking your life for? You think you can beat me?"

He took a step forward, looking down at the mustachioed security guard.

That's just how goblin security guards are—they bully the weak and fear the strong.

He defined the mustachioed security guard as a weakling and treated him with disrespect and arrogance without any hesitation.

The goblin security guard felt he had been very merciful, not attacking him immediately upon entering, and even politely discussing things with him.

You're really asking for it? Who do you think you are? Do you have the skills of that handsome security guard from back then? (End of Chapter)