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

According to Zhang Yangqing's understanding, everything about toy cars is unknown.

You don't know what it is, where it comes from, where it's going, or where it's taking you.

If you follow it, you'll never know what you'll step on next.

But the shoes and the shoe prints are different. The shoes are in the library, and the library has surveillance cameras.

The chosen ones can see the state of the library "in advance".

Although the surveillance footage was blurry, you could at least see some things: the height of the bookshelves, the width of the aisle, and whether there were any obvious human-shaped objects moving.

You can determine that there is nothing too dangerous in the library for the time being, so follow the shoes and you will have a predictable "destination".

Eliminate distracting information, find the relevant information, and combine it with your own professional characteristics.

This was Zhang Yangqing's judgment—precise and elegant.

Zhang Yangqing's flashlight drew a white arc in the corridor. His steps were neither fast nor slow, and each step seemed to be a specific safe zone.

Outside the large screen, many extraordinary individuals were observing Zhang Yangqing's movements, finding them very mysterious, but they couldn't quite discern what kind of movement technique it was.

Actually, they were overthinking it. Zhang Yangqing just walked more easily than the other chosen ones.

This strange tale was actually very unfriendly to Zhang Yangqing; it could even be described as deliberately making things difficult for him.

Perhaps Jones couldn't sense it, because Jones was just an ordinary person.

Zhang Yangqing's first impression of the world of ghost stories was that it was hellishly difficult.

The last strange tale gave me a good physical foundation. It's the kind of physique that survived such torture in the underground mine. As long as the suppression is lifted, my cultivation will be fast and my abilities in all aspects will be very strong.

It's important to understand that for a cultivator of Zhang Yangqing's level, once the chip's limitations are removed and cultivation resources are available, their cultivation level will definitely begin to increase dramatically.

But Zhang Yangqing's current body is not his original body; it is just an ordinary human body.

It's so ordinary that it has no advantages or disadvantages.

In other words, it is very difficult to cultivate.

The method to enhance strength is quite unique.

Zhang Yangqing was guessing that the key to this strange world giving this body was that it didn't require cultivation.
If you insist on practicing it, it might backfire.

In short, this body is too weak.

Viewers may have noticed that the superhumans who entered this round didn't look too good and were particularly cautious.

Therefore, Zhang Yangqing focused on intelligence gathering and clearing the checkpoint. His eyes constantly swept across the walls, floor, and ceiling on both sides, recording this information into his mind.

The length of the corridor, the location of the corners, and the distance between doors.

Zhang Yangqing followed the shoe prints on the ground.

The shoe print left a clear trail in the dust, but strangely, the footprint changed.

Sometimes it's one foot, sometimes it's two feet.

It looks like someone is walking along and then hopping on one foot?
Zhang Yangqing judged that this was probably not a dangerous situation, but rather a rather happy state.

If these shoe prints are the same shoes seen on CCTV in the library, it further confirms that the library must be a relatively 'friendly' place.

Having read this far, the Chosen Ones should be able to judge how dangerous it is to follow the tires.

Zhang Yangqing not only followed the shoe prints, but also observed the surrounding situation, that is, some information in the corridor.

The corridor was lined with closed doors, none of which had signs or numbers, only rusty keyholes.

Some doorknobs were dusty, while others were very clean, as if someone had been touching them frequently.

Without exception, they were all tightly closed, and no one knew what was inside.

Zhang Yangqing tried to open it with the key, but it didn't work, so he gave up.

This is just a simple attempt.

Continuing to follow the footprints, Zhang Yangqing saw a window connecting to the outside. He approached the window, found the glass to be sturdy, and shone his flashlight through it.

Perhaps the flashlight wasn't working properly, or perhaps the area outside was acting strangely. From Zhang Yangqing's perspective, it was pitch black outside, and he couldn't see anything.

There were no streetlights, no moonlight, and no building outlines.

It was a pure, heavy darkness, completely opaque, as if something had shrouded the entire world.

Only the streetlight outside the monitoring room window was still on, flashing intermittently to tell him that it was the first floor.

Zhang Yangqing mentally constructed a floor plan of the building.

After leaving the monitoring room, every step I took, including how many steps I took and how far each step was, was recorded clearly.

The shoe print went upstairs, and Zhang Yangqing followed.

The staircase was ordinary; apart from being a bit old, there was nothing unusual about it.

The second floor has many doors, some of which are open, revealing a pitch-black interior. When a flashlight beam shines through, you can see messy tables and chairs, overturned bookshelves, and scattered papers.

The air was filled with a musty, foul smell, as if no one had been here for a long time, or as if something had rotted here.

Some of the rooms have signs on their doors that read "Reference Room," "Meeting Room," and "Storage Room." The words on the signs are blurred, but they are still legible.

One of the room doors was open. Zhang Yangqing shone his flashlight inside and found an abandoned classroom.

The blackboard is still there, with chalk writing on it, but the writing is smudged and illegible.

The desks were arranged neatly, but the chairs were covered in a thick layer of dust.

A clock hangs on the wall above the blackboard. The clock has long since stopped, and the hands are stopped at a certain time, making it impossible to tell whether it is 3:15 or 4:45.

The daring Zhang Yangqing went inside.

He approached the desks, the beam of his flashlight slowly sweeping across the surface, illuminating the crooked writing carved into them.

Some are names, some are profanities, and some are graffiti that is no longer legible.

The table was stuffed with yellowed paper balls, and the air was filled with the smell of old paper and rotting wood.

Suddenly, Zhang Yangqing's gaze fell under the desk.

There were some weapons scattered there, and they weren't ordinary weapons.

The blade of a dagger was engraved with runes he couldn't understand, and the edge gleamed with an unnatural dark red light.

The tip of an iron rod was covered with dried black liquid, it was unclear whether it was blood or something else.

There were also several stone spikes that looked like they had been broken off from a sculpture, their tips so sharp they seemed capable of piercing steel plates.

These weapons are too large and heavy for humans to use.

It's too big, too heavy, and the handle isn't positioned in an ergonomically curved position.

It looks like something larger and stronger left its mark here.

Just then, the time on the blackboard suddenly started moving.

The second hand skipped a beat from where it had stopped, making a sharp "click" that was particularly jarring in the quiet classroom.

Then the minute hand started moving too, not walking, but jumping, jumping forward one step at a time, as if something was urging it to hurry up.

Those weapons suddenly "came to life"!

The dagger sprang up from the ground, hovering in mid-air, its tip pointing towards Zhang Yangqing.

The iron rod rolled twice on the ground, then, as if grasped by an invisible hand, was raised high.

The stone spikes floated up, their tips pointing at Zhang Yangqing's vital points: his heart, throat, brow, and back of the heart.

It was as if unseen figures emerged from the darkness, wielding these weapons, ready to deliver a fatal blow to the intruder.

Zhang Yangqing knew that he had violated an unknown rule and entered the wrong room.

The door suddenly closed, not slowly, but abruptly, with a loud "bang" that echoed in the empty classroom.

The doorknob turned by itself, as if it had been locked from the inside. (End of Chapter)