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

"what happened?"

The melancholy and eerie figure, who was painting, noticed Zhang Yangqing's unusual behavior. He paused, his gaze shifting from the paper to Zhang Yangqing's frozen back.

Zhang Yangqing didn't turn around, but slowly shook his head: "It's nothing, just a bit of an occupational hazard. No matter what happens later, just pretend you didn't see or hear anything."

At this moment, Zhang Yangqing's inner panic was real.

It wasn't that he was afraid, but that this body was terrified, as if it had encountered its natural enemy.

Just like a mouse sensing a cat nearby, that instinctive tremor seeps from the very marrow of its bones.

His heart was racing, his breathing was becoming shallow, and the hairs on the back of his body were standing on end.

All of this suggests that the cat outside the door is terrifying.

Zhang Yangqing knew that the guardian rules needed to be triggered at this time.

[Rule 14: Every ten hours, you need to stand in the center of the monitoring room for five minutes, facing the window, with your back to the door, and your arms hanging naturally at your sides. During these five minutes, no matter what you see or hear, do not move.]

He closed his eyes, silently counted to three, then opened them and walked straight to the center of the monitoring room, facing the window with his back to the door, his hands hanging naturally at his sides.

The body stood very straight, without swaying or shifting.

My gaze fell on the gray-white sky outside the window, as if I could see something very far away through those clouds.

The room was silent for a few seconds.

The melancholic and eerie man and the red-haired psychic exchanged a glance, then both looked toward the doorway.

Although the female guest did not speak, she shrank slightly back into the chair.

She felt something indescribable, like an invisible weight pressing in from the doorway.

Then the door opened.

No one pushed the door, no hand turned the doorknob, the door just opened by itself, first a crack, then slowly pushed outwards until it was fully open.

The hallway outside was empty, the lights were still on, the floor was clean, and there was nothing there.

The three—the melancholic and eerie one, the red-haired psychic, and the female guest—all glanced at the door almost simultaneously, but none of them turned their heads.

The red-haired psychic was the bravest. He moved slightly, as if he wanted to stand up and go out to take a look, but he remembered Zhang Yangqing's words and forcefully suppressed the impulse.

Zhang Yangqing stood there, motionless.

His gaze remained fixed on the window, but he could sense that something had already entered.

The thing was so light that it made almost no sound, but its presence was so strong that it made the air feel heavy.

It walked past his feet, and a meow came from his feet, very close, as if it were right next to him, as if it were circling around his trouser leg.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was very clear, as if something was confirming his location.

The aura of death, like tentacles, emanated from the cat, coiling around Zhang Yangqing's ankles and then slowly climbing upwards, over his calves, his knees, and his waist, like a snake gradually tightening its grip.

The icy feeling made it almost impossible for him to breathe; it felt like something was pressing down on his chest, and he had to strain to take each breath.

The cat's meowing continued, this time louder than before, sounding as if it had been starving for a long time, or as if it had been provoked by something.

It circled him, once, twice, three times, like a predator checking if its prey still had the ability to resist.

The sound was so close that he could almost feel the cat's body temperature as it rubbed against his trouser leg and then moved to the other side.

Zhang Yangqing desperately wanted to look down and see what kind of terrifying creature was at his feet, to see what color its eyes were, what shape its claws were, and whether it really had fur. But he knew that wasn't the time to look down.

With just a slight movement, even a blink or a swallow, he could be dragged by the cat into a place he can never return to.

The rules are clearly stated: during these five minutes, no matter what you see or hear, do not move; that way you will be safe.

Zhang Yangqing's mind raced with various guesses.

This thing must come with an instant-death rule, otherwise it wouldn't have this oppressive feeling.

Any Chosen One could sense that this guy was absolutely capable of killing Chosen Ones, and only Chosen Ones.

But why is this cat doing this? Where did it come from?

The things he had encountered before that carried the rule of instant death were all inanimate objects; he had never encountered a living being.

This time, a living creature appeared, and it was a cat.

What are its rules? What hidden rules did I violate?

Zhang Yangqing was even able to analyze that in the next stage, he needed to quickly figure out what the cat represented, what its significance was, and how to resolve it.

Because you only get five minutes of invincibility every ten hours.

If the black cat locks onto his life again within ten hours, he will almost certainly die.

Before five minutes had passed, the cat stopped meowing.

The icy sensation that had been clinging to my body began to slowly recede, like the receding tide, gradually flowing back towards the doorway.

The door closed with a soft click.

The air in the monitoring room started circulating again, the temperature rose, and the feeling of pressure on my chest disappeared.

Zhang Yangqing slowly exhaled, returned to the monitoring console, sat down, and leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, as if half of his strength had been drained away.

The melancholy, enigmatic figure put down his paintbrush and glanced at Zhang Yangqing: "What just happened?"

The voice was very soft, with a hint of probing, as if afraid of asking the wrong question.

The other two also looked over.

The red-haired psychic's brows were still furrowed, while the female guest remained seated, her gaze lingering on Zhang Yangqing's face, waiting for him to speak.

Zhang Yangqing opened his eyes, his tone returning to its usual calm: "There are still many unsolved mysteries in this building. I just survived by following the rules."

He paused, then continued, "But don't be afraid, I'll take care of it."

The others, trusting Zhang Yangqing, didn't ask any further questions.

Outside the window, the dim light was tinged with gray, like the daylight of another world.

The eerie atmosphere outside had largely dissipated, and the black mist that had been churning in the night seemed to have been suppressed by something.

Zhang Yangqing looked out the window and said to the female guest, "You'd better leave as soon as possible. The Eighth Young Master and the Sixth Young Master are dead. If you don't want to be punished by the Eldest Miss and the Mistress."

The female customer paused for a moment, then seemed to realize something, her expression changed, she stood up, hurriedly packed her things, expressed her gratitude a few times, and ran out.

Zhang Yangqing watched through the window as she quickly walked out of the building, started her car, and the sound of the engine was particularly clear in the quiet morning, then grew farther and farther away, disappearing into the gray-white light of dawn.

The red-haired psychic walked up to Zhang Yangqing and asked in a low voice, "Brother, why didn't you keep her, or hand her over to the mistress? Or..." (End of Chapter)