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

As soon as the conference room door was opened a crack, black smoke poured out.

The black mist was different from what I had seen before; it was terrifyingly thick.

He took two steps back, looking melancholy and strange, his expression not good, as if he had a natural fear.

There were beings of a higher level than him inside; the oppressive feeling wasn't a crushing defeat in strength, but a fundamental restraint.

Zhang Yangqing pushed open the door, and the beam of his flashlight pierced through.

The lights were off, but the entire space was bathed in a pale blue light. The blue was not bright or dazzling, but it made people feel cold, like the light from another world, seeping through the walls and the cracks in the floor.

The space inside is abnormally large. From the outside, it looks like an ordinary room, but once you go inside, you realize that it is larger than the entire building.

The tectonic plates collapsed, and space became disordered.

The ground was not a single, intact piece; it was broken into countless small pieces that floated in mid-air.

Some are at your feet, some are above your head, some are on the left, and some are on the right.

There are cracks between the tectonic plates, and below the cracks is a bottomless abyss, pitch black and with no end in sight.

The flashlight beam shone down, only to be swallowed by the darkness, leaving no echo.

Some of the floorboards floated in mid-air, crooked and tilted, as if they might fall at any moment.

The ceiling was also shattered, breaking into pieces of space scattered in different directions, creating a chaotic mess.

The meeting room was still intact. At the far end of the space stood a throne with a high back, intricately carved patterns, and gemstones inlaid on the armrests. The gemstones shimmered slightly under the blue light, symbolizing status and prestige.

In front of the throne was a long table with a large tabletop and thick legs.

Eight chairs were arranged on either side of the throne. The chairs were a size smaller than the throne, but they were equally exquisite, with different patterns engraved on the back of each chair.

The main seat was empty, with no one there, but on the table directly opposite it was a human head.

The woman's head, with short hair, regular features, closed eyes, and a pale but not decaying complexion, looked as if she were asleep.

Zhang Yangqing guessed correctly; at the restaurant, the woman had placed her arm on the main table.

Following this line of thought, if the main table is the position of the matriarch, then there is a severed arm on the matriarch's side. Even if others find it strange, they would not dare to touch it.

The same goes for heads; if they're placed on the main seat, who would dare touch them?
This is the female surveillance officer's scheme.

She needs to place a part of her body where it can be seen by surveillance cameras to maintain her presence and thus preserve the possibility of resurrection.

The gloomy and eerie man frowned deeply upon seeing the scene before him: "Dude, the space here is completely distorted. How do we get in? How do we find the security cameras?"

After observing for a moment, Zhang Yangqing pointed to the floating space plates and said, "Look, these space plates are active. They don't just drift around randomly; they follow a pattern. Each plate has its own track, meshing and rotating like gears, moving from one position to another, repeating the cycle."

"As long as you wait for the plate to drift to the correct position, you won't be torn apart by space when you step on it. You need to find the nodes where the plates are moving and step on them. The nodes are the points where the plates connect and are also the most stable places in space."

Next, Zhang Yangqing talked a lot about space, including anchor points, nodes, coordinates, folding, offset, phase, resonance, and harmonics.

The melancholy and eerie sounds gave him a headache; he couldn't understand a single word. The words were all jumbled together in his mind, and he couldn't tell what was going on.

Zhang Yangqing concluded by saying, "Just stand here and watch my performance."

This sentence was melancholic and eerie; I understood it.

He nodded and stepped back to the doorway.
That expression seemed to say: Why didn't you say that sooner!
However, in some ways, I really admire Zhang Yangqing. I think Zhang Yangqing is too versatile, he knows all of this.

At this moment, Zhang Yangqing grasped the laws of space and stepped into that chaotic world.

He stepped onto the first slab, which wobbled slightly before regaining its balance.

He waited a few seconds for the second tile to float over, stepped on it, and then waited for the third. Each step was precise, neither too early nor too late, neither too fast nor too slow.

He leaped between tectonic plates, from one node to another, from the ground to pumice, and from pumice to fragments of the wall.

Those places that seemed completely impassable to the gloomy and eerie were like flat stone paths beneath his feet.

He walked step by step to the head seat and stood beside the long table.

The head on the table lay quietly with its eyes closed.

Zhang Yangqing didn't touch her, but looked up in the direction the head was facing.

The direction the head and face are facing is the direction the camera is located in.

This is a reverse inference: since the female monitor needs to position herself where the camera can see her, the camera will be wherever her head is facing.

Zhang Yangqing looked in that direction and saw a ceiling with a distorted spatial arrangement.

The ceiling isn't overhead; it's on the left, tilted, like a wall that's been knocked down.

There was a black, round camera in the corner of the ceiling; the indicator light was off.

He climbed onto a floating platform, reached out and flipped a switch; the indicator light came on.

The space suddenly trembled, the floating tectonic plates began to slowly fall, the cracks began to close, and the abyss began to shrink.

The blue light faded, the walls returned to gray, the floor returned to its flat state, and the ceiling returned to normal.

An ordinary conference room came into view.

The conference room was not large, with a long table, host's seat, and guest seats arranged neatly.

A large painting hangs behind the meeting room wall, taking up the entire space.

The painting depicts a woman who is incredibly beautiful, with features so exquisite they seem unreal, fair skin, rosy lips, and deep-set eyes.

She was wearing a dark-colored long dress, and her hair was tied up and secured with a hairpin.

She stood in the garden, with blooming flowers behind her, and sunlight filtering through the leaves, falling on her shoulders.

Her expression was calm, but it wasn't a gentle calm; it was a condescending, unassailable calm.

This woman is perfect; she possesses a beauty unlike any other in the world.

Looking at the painting, Zhang Yangqing said to the melancholy and eerie figure following behind him, "Was this painted by the original owner of this body? The style is very similar."

He nodded melancholyly, his gaze lingering on the painting for a long time: "That's right, I also feel a sense of familiarity. I'm even more curious about why there is such a beautiful woman. I really want to meet her."

Zhang Yangqing said, "She is beautiful, but you should be careful with her unapproachable demeanor. If she discovers that you have become a monster, no one can save you."

With a melancholy and eerie look, he withdrew his gaze and took a step back: "Alright, I won't look anymore."

Zhang Yangqing said, "It's okay, the surveillance cameras have been fixed anyway, we can just watch the footage later."

He nodded in a melancholic and enigmatic manner.

Zhang Yangqing handed him the severed head on the table, asking him to take care of it.

The melancholy eeriness took the severed head, wrapped it in cloth, stuffed it into his backpack, and zipped it up.

The strange incidents here have been dealt with.

Zhang Yangqing pressed the button given to him by the cleaning lady, and after a short while, hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor. (End of Chapter)