Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time
Chapter 73: Massive Talent

Chapter 73: Massive Talent

Seeing the dark color, everyone’s eyes went wide.

And then, after a moment of dead silence—absolute pandemonium erupted!

"Indigo! It’s actually indigo!"

"There’s actually someone with an indigo-ranked talent!"

"I can’t believe it!"

Disciples were stunned. Recruits were stunned. Even the stone-faced Elders watching from their high seats were suddenly leaping out of their chairs like bingo grandmas at a jackpot.

"I WANT HIM!"

"NO, I WANT HIM!"

"FUCK YOU ALL, I’M TAKING HIM!"

The Elders, who were supposed to be the wise and dignified pillars of the sect, immediately devolved into a pack of squabbling chickens. They jostled, shoved, and nearly threw spirit stones at each other. Some were already preparing to physically dive into the arena and claim the boy like a spiritual piñata.

"SILENCE!" a thunderous voice roared.

A mountain of a man stepped forward, his voice low enough to rattle bones and high enough to silence the bickering old cultivators. He stood nearly seven feet tall, with a clean-shaven scalp that gleamed under the sun and a thick, charred beard that looked like it had survived a few barbeques too many.

His robes were loose, but they clung helplessly to the bulging mass of his frame, as if they had given up trying to hide anything. Compared to Gao Ren, he looked like Gao Ren’s final evolution.

"Forge Grandmaster!" several Elders gasped, stiffening like kids caught cheating during a sect exam.

"The boy’s physique suits my legacy. He shall join under me," the Forge Grandmaster declared with the kind of confidence reserved for tax collectors and apex predators. "None of you are qualified to nurture such a seed."

Silence fell.

Not because they agreed—but because nobody in their right mind argued with the Peak Head of the Armament Peak. The Forge Grandmaster was one of the strongest cultivators in the sect and ranked third in authority, right below the Grand Elders and the Patriarch himself.

Usually, someone of his status wouldn’t even think about attending a basic talent assessment. He had weapons to forge and worlds to crush. But today, by some cosmic fluke or divine joke, he had shown up on a whim.

And just like that, he found what he’d apparently been looking for: the big boy with the even bigger talent.

While the Elders upstairs fought over the boy like aunties at a clearance sale, the chaos on the ground was no better.

The uproar only grew louder. Han Yu could barely hear himself think.

"What the fuck?! How’s that muscle-brain so talented?" he yelled, mouth agape.

Even Xu Qing, normally the portrait of composure, was visibly rattled. She had known the boy had some kind of physique, but this? This was ridiculous.

"Indigo? He’s as talented as the Legacy Disciples?" Xu Qing muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

Having an Indigo-ranked talent wasn’t just rare—it was sect-shaking. It meant the potential to become a future pillar of the sect, maybe even the next Patriarch. It meant access to forbidden scrolls, VIP food, private mountain peaks, and probably a really comfy bed.

Someone with Indigo talent had the potential to reach the Dao Treading Realm—the sect’s ultimate stage, as far as Xu Qing knew.

"He can become as strong as the Patriarch..." she whispered, still stunned.

Han Yu’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"Legacy Disciple?" he croaked. He had heard of them. They were the chosen ones. The elites. The people with the kind of future that came with glowing foreheads and dramatic theme music.

’Fuck,’ Han Yu thought. ’I punched the balls of such a person?’

He stared at his hands, as if they might spontaneously combust from regret.

Even Gao Ren himself was having a bit of an identity crisis.

"I’m... talented? This much too?" the boy mumbled, as if he’d just discovered he was the secret heir to a noodle empire.

CLAP

A heavy, reassuring smack landed on his back, nearly sending him face-first into the dirt. Elder Nie Jing grinned beside him, looking oddly proud for once.

"Excellent, junior!" Nie Jing beamed. "I’ll look forward to your future."

"I pass?" Gao Ren asked, dazed.

"Of course you pass. If you don’t pass, then no one would pass!" Nie Jing laughed, suddenly sounding like a proud dad at a school play. Several disciples watching couldn’t help but whisper among themselves, wondering when the grumpy old bat had turned into Santa Claus.

"YEAHHHHH!" Gao Ren finally pumped his fists in the air, basking in his newfound glory.

"Go get your reward. I’m sure you’ll get picked by an elder soon," Nie Jing said with a wink.

"I will?" Gao Ren asked, still very much in adorable caveman mode. "By who?"

Before Elder Nie Jing could answer, the air trembled.

WHOOSH

A wave of spiritual pressure slammed down like a falling mountain. Disciples staggered. The weaker ones dropped to their knees. The children fell flat on their faces.

"Ugh... What the hell is this?" Han Yu grunted, his spine bowing like a wet noodle.

Xu Qing, who was somehow managing to stand upright, turned her head toward the source of the pressure—and immediately felt her stomach drop.

"Him?" her voice cracked.

"Damn... There can be a human like this too?" Han Yu whispered, staring at the oncoming colossus of a man who looked like Gao Ren’s final boss version.

The man was built like a divine blacksmith who bench-pressed mountains for breakfast. He made the air shimmer around him just by walking.

"We pay our respects to the Armament Peak Head and Forge Grandmaster!" all the disciples said in unison, bowing with the kind of synchronized fear that only lifelong trauma could teach.

"That’s a Peak Head?" Han Yu blinked rapidly. "He looks like he could forge a Peak Head."

Every step the man took radiated heat. He was the forge. People started sweating just by being within ten feet of him.

"Peak Head," Elder Nie Jing said, bowing with fists cupped.

"I’ll be taking this child. I assume you can handle the formalities?" the Forge Grandmaster asked.

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