I Am a Taoist Priest in the Dungeon

Crazy Taoist Priest × Weird Copy × Violent Transcendence [No Female Protagonist] The twilight is like blood, and the cornices of the ancient temple in the mountains twist into ghost claws in the fog. The wind passed through the dead trees, bringing with it a sticky whisper, like countless dead souls whispering in the ears. The yellow paper talisman moves automatically without wind, and the cinnabar incantation oozes dark red light, like dried blood scabs. Mo Sheng stood in front of the decaying palace door, her green shirt lifted by the cold wind, revealing an arm wrapped with curses. He chuckled, and the talisman held between his fingers ignited with blue flames - "Infinite Lord, who will you save tonight?" He was once a lazy Taoist priest who guarded the Sanqing statues, until the scarlet rain dragged him into this strange world. The white shadow walking on tiptoe in the midnight school, the withered bones of the wedding dress sitting in the wedding sedan in the deserted village, the endless wet hair from the well... Each copy is a nightmare woven by malicious intent, and the reward for clearing the level is just "survival". Fortunately, he had already gone crazy. While other players were screaming for their lives, Mo Sheng was feeding the hungry ghost his own blood; when his teammates knelt down and begged for mercy, he pinched the ghost's neck and forced it to recite the Tao Te Ching. The scorching smell when the thunder talisman explodes the resentment, the sticky sound of the seven-star step stepping through the pool of blood, the splatter of pus and blood when the copper coin sword pierces the painted-skinned demon - these are much more interesting than boring scriptures. "Tao follows nature?" He crushed the twitching ghost hand on the ground and laughed crazily, "Of course it is - I will kill when I see tricks, demolish temples when I see them, and destroy the world when I see copies..." The moment the green smoke of the incense rose straight upward, he caught a glimpse of a way home illuminated by the moonlight in the depths of the copy. ——The premise is that he can resist spoiling all the tricks along the way.