Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time
Chapter 81: Day One: The Bottom of the Bucket

Chapter 81: Day One: The Bottom of the Bucket

After having been gloriously been shat upon by a pigeon that seemed to have been sent by the very heavens themselves, Han Yu felt utterly pooped.

SIGH

"This day couldn’t get any wo-" Han Yu covered his mouth. "Fuck, I almost set up a flag of misfortune for myslef. Never saying that again." He stated.

He got up and walked out of the shack, seeking out a well to clean himself. Once that was done, a senior servant came over and informed everyone of the dinner time. It would be at seven PM everyday and there were still three hours left till then which were very hard for Han Yu to endure.

After all, he hadn’t eaten anything since the morning and Disciple Bian had conveniently forgotten to tell them about lunch.

Alas, such was the life of a servant. Han Yu could only endure by eating some of the reserve dried meat he had brought with him and wait till it was dinner. The Dinner, if it could even be called that might as well be the same slop they fed the pigs.

Regarldess, Han Yu downed it with copious amounts of water and tiny bites of dried meat to chase it before heading to sleep, a single star twinkling through the hole in the roof.

The next day, Han Yu awoke to the soothing sound of a gong being beaten by what sounded like a very angry monkey. His eyes opened slowly, crusty and red from the mold-infested air of Dormitory Nine.

Someone screamed in the corner. Probably a rat. Or a hallucination. At this point, either was fine.

"Up! Everyone up!" a booming voice echoed from outside. "All first-day servants report to Task Master Hu!"

Han Yu dragged himself up from his mat. His back popped in seventeen different places.

"Feels like I aged fifty years overnight," he groaned, rubbing his lower spine like an old cultivator reflecting on his life choices.

He threw on his plain gray servant robes—extra itchy, possibly made from recycled sackcloth—and stumbled out of the dorm with the rest of the groggy recruits. His previous clothes were much better than this, but as per the rules, he was forced to wear the servant robes.

They were herded like doomed sheep to a wide courtyard at the edge of the servant quarters. There stood Task Master Hu, a man who looked like a tree stump with legs and the emotional warmth of a glacier.

"Alright, listen up, dunglings!" Hu bellowed. "You’re here to work, not whine! The sect’s full of pristine peaks and pristine asses, and someone’s gotta make sure both stay clean. That someone is YOU!"

The kids shivered.

"Today’s job assignments are simple," Task Master Hu continued. "Group A, you’re on chamber pot duty. Group B, stable mucking. Group C... oh-ho, the real winners—latrine cleaning!"

He grinned, revealing two and a half teeth.

Han Yu prayed to every celestial, demon, and minor poop deity in existence to not be in Group C.

"Group C: Han Yu, Fatty Kui, Leaky Lin, and Stumbling Jin."

"...what kind of cursed RPG party is this?" Han Yu whispered. "And another Fatty Kui? Am I fated with all the Fatty Kui’s in the world?" he couldn’t help but wonder.

Fatty Kui waved cheerfully, already munching on a steamed bun he definitely wasn’t allowed to have. He looked a bit similar to the orignal fatty Kui, except for the fact that he was a bit slimmer. Just a kilogram less though.

Leaky Lin—a nervous-looking kid with chronic bladder issues—was already sweating through his robe.

Stumbling Jin was just a kid who tripped on flat ground. Repeatedly.

"This is how I die," Han Yu muttered.

Task Master Hu led them to the sacred site: the Grand Communal Latrine of the Outer Courtyard, a structure so foul it made grown men cry and small birds pass out mid-flight.

It was a long, wooden shack that reeked of sorrow and spiritual decay. The inside was an endless row of holes, most of which hadn’t been scrubbed since the last spirit beast migration.

There was a bucket. There was a brush. There was a smell.

There were no masks. No gloves. No dignity.

"Get to work!" Hu barked.

Han Yu stared into the abyss. The abyss stared back.

Fatty Kui gagged dramatically.

Leaky Lin looked like he was about to explode from the stress.

Stumbling Jin... well, he stumbled and fell into the wrong hole. That was going to haunt all of them forever.

Three very tiring and disgusting hours later...

Han Yu had transcended the first few stages of grief and reached Spiteful Acceptance. His nose had shut down in protest. His soul had partially evacuated his body.

"Why," he muttered, "do cultivators poop so much? Are spirit fruits made of fiber?!"

Fatty Kui, to his credit, was humming a little song as he scrubbed.

"It’s not so bad once your brain turns off," he chirped. "You wanna bun?"

Han Yu stared at him.

"You’re eating. In here?" Han Yu questioned. "And where did you even get that bun?" He wondered as all of them had been fed the same slop they had for dinner.

"It’s steamed! The steam kills germs," Fatty Kui said, nodding wisely. "And I bought this from the market, you can get them there." he added.

"That’s not how anything works." Han Yu said. "Though thank you for the offer and information. But I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it down with the stench here." he added.

"Suit yourself."

They continued in grim silence, occasionally interrupted by Stumbling Jin crying softly in the corner while being hosed off with a water talisman. Some outer court disciple had so very graciously decided to use one, just because of how foul the boy smelled.

He worked nearby and was unable to bear the stench, so decided to deal with it himself.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the latrine shocking Han Yu.

Everyone jumped. Even Leaky Lin leaked a little.

The door had been kicked open by a furious-looking outer court disciple.

"You there!" he roared, pointing at Han Yu.