Rules of the Strange: I Became a God in a Bizarre World Through Taoist Arts

Shen Xingzhuo stared at the words on the ground, lost in thought—

"Knock knock knock".

A crisp sound came from above.

The moment she looked up, she saw a line of dark red writing seeping out from the crack in the ceiling. The strokes looked as if someone had used their fingertips to dip into blood and write each stroke carefully, crooked and messy.

This should be the new rule for the corridor.

When the number of participants exceeds the limit, please proactively remove redundant participants.

Elimination method: Questions are asked in exchange for answers; those who answer incorrectly are eliminated.

Questioners must follow logical reasoning. Those who answer incorrectly will be asked to leave the room.

Hua Jiuyue stared at the line of words, her throat going dry.

She held back all the screams that wanted to escape her lips, silently counting her heartbeats until they subsided.

Before she could think it through, she heard Shen Xingzhuo's voice coming from the darkness. The voice was softer than before, and the end of the tone trembled slightly.

"...There's a mist between my brows in September."

Hua Jiuyue was taken aback.

"What did you say?"

Shen Xingzhuo didn't explain, but instead asked again, "Did you see the fog?"

Hua Jiuyue looked around, but the entire corridor was dark; she couldn't see anything. She shook her head: "No. Did you see anything?"

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

Then Shen Xingzhuo exhaled a breath, very lightly, but with obvious irritation.

"It seems to be mine."

she says.

Shen Xingzhuo leaned against the cold wall and raised her hand to rub her temples.

The fog had just appeared. At first, it was just a thin layer of grayish-white on the edge of her vision. She thought it was just the gloom inherent in this ghost story scene, but she soon realized something was wrong—the fog only enveloped her vision, and Hua Jiuyue's outline was still clearly discernible, while the paper figures, walls, and floors in other corners of the corridor gradually blurred into a blur.

It was as if someone had covered the surface of her eyeballs with frosted glass.

A feeling of irritability welled up from the bottom of my heart.

It came without warning, swift and scorching, like something squeezing and kneading her heart. Shen Xingzhu bit her lower lip, forcing herself to calm down. Among the fragments of esoteric arts she had read was a record of "mental erosion," which stated that the core of certain supernatural tales would directly attack the consciousness level after the player entered a certain stage.

The fog in front of us is a sign of erosion.

It can't distort her perception yet—at least not now—but it's weakening her emotional control.

Shen Xingzhuo knew that his earlier comment to Hua Jiuyue, "Let the other one come out," had been inappropriate.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, the fog hadn't dissipated, but her tone had calmed down considerably.

"September, listen carefully."

"We succeeded."

Hua Jiuyue was still looking up at the line of blood-red words when she heard this, and turned her gaze back to where Shen Xingzhuo was: "It succeeded?"

"Yes." Shen Xingzhuo's voice came through a layer of mist, sounding somewhat unreal. "The extra person has appeared. The rules on the ceiling are what brought about by it."

Hua Jiuyue suddenly realized: "The rules say..."

"Ask a question," Shen Xingzhuo continued. "We need to ask it a question, and if it can't answer it, it's out."

"But what's the problem?" Hua Jiuyue asked, "What should we ask?"

Shen Xingzhu remained silent for a while.

The fog is getting thicker.

She could feel the white mass in the center of her vision slowly spreading, like ink dripping into clear water. Her temples throbbed with pain, and her fingers unconsciously tightened their grip on the wall.

"...ask it where the water room is."