Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time
Chapter 82: The Start Of Troubles

Chapter 82: The Start Of Troubles

Han Yu stood straight, panicking. "Yes, esteemed... odor-resilient senior?"

The disciple stomped over and shoved a very soiled chamber pot into Han Yu’s chest.

"Why was this not cleaned properly?! Do you want to be reincarnated as a dung beetle?!"

"Honestly?" Han Yu muttered. "That might be an upgrade." He didn’t even bother to explain that he hadn’t been appointed Chamber pot cleaning duty in the first place.

The disciple narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?"

"I said... I shall do better next time, honored sir!" Han Yu gave a little bow and fought the urge to fling the bucket at his head.

The disciple sneered, tossed a handful of copper coins on the ground, and left in a dramatic swirl of his robes. While the spirit stones might be the main currency here, that was just for disciples. For servants, coin was still the king.

Han Yu stared at the coins.

"...Did I just get tipped for poop?"

Fatty Kui picked one up. "Hey, that’s almost enough for fried dumplings!"

Finally, in the evening, the group staggered back to Dormitory Nine, smelling like betrayal and fermented tofu.

Han Yu dropped onto his mat and groaned. "I can still hear the sloshing."

Fatty Kui flopped down beside him. "At least we didn’t get the bloodstained laundry task. I hear that stuff screams sometimes."

"...What."

"I didn’t say anything."

Han Yu stared up through the roof hole again having finished his pigslop dinner with great difficulty as if it were a heavenly tribulation. The same star from last night twinkled through the hole, mockingly.

He was so tired that he didn’t even have the willpower to do his usual training.

’If everyday ends up like this, how will I even be able to have a chance at cultivating?’ Han Yu wondered.

"I swear," he whispered, "I’ll rise up. One way or another. Even if I have to bribe a pigeon or blackmail a spirit rat."

And just like that, Han Yu’s first day as a servant came to an end—with a slightly cleaner latrine, a very bruised ego, and a vow of vengeance against every disciple who’d ever eaten a bad batch of spicy hotpot.

Han Yu was just about to drift into a blessed, bucket-free sleep when the dormitory door creaked open again. A shadow stood in the doorway, framed by the moonlight like the final boss of a particularly unhygienic nightmare.

The figure stepped in with practiced grace, his robes crisp, hair neatly tied, face disturbingly clean.

Too clean.

This was no ordinary servant.

The boy looked around with a practiced sneer until his gaze landed on Han Yu.

"You," he said, pointing as if accusing Han Yu of public urination on a holy altar.

Han Yu squinted at the new arrival. "Me?"

The boy stepped closer, and even in the dim light, Han Yu could see that his clothes were a grade better than what the rest of them wore. The servant-standard gray robe—but with silver trim. A cleaned-up version of mediocrity. Still tragic, but... with flair.

"I’ve been looking for you all day," the boy said, his voice slicker than a greased eel. "Name’s Zhen Shi. I’ve been assigned to assist you."

Han Yu sat up on his mat, blinking. "Wait. Assist me? Since when do we get assistants?"

Fatty Kui perked up from his semi-snore. "Do we all get one? Can I request one who can peel melons?"

Zhen Shi ignored him. His eyes were locked on Han Yu like a vengeful pigeon locking on a statue.

"I was sent by Senior Brother Long Wei," Zhen Shi said with deliberate weight.

Han Yu paused. "...Who?"

"Long Wei. The Inner court disciple you insulted during the assessment."

"Oh him," Han Yu said slowly, racking his memory. "The guy with the oddly triangular eyebrows?" He recalled him to be one of the Inner Court disciples that brought in recruits.

’Was he Murong Xie’s guide or Gao Ren?’ Han Yu couldn’t recall. ’Or was it someone else?’ He couldn’t careless for now, for trouble was already on his doorstep.

Zhen Shi’s eye twitched.

"He says hello," Zhen Shi said flatly. "And he also said to tell you—word for word, I quote—’enjoy your new shadow.’"

Han Yu’s stomach dropped. "He sent you to spy on me?"

Zhen Shi grinned like a man who just found his favorite pliers. "Oh no. Not spy. That’s too kind. I’m here to make sure your life is a living, steaming, festering latrine pit."

Han Yu blinked. "Isn’t it already?"

"Well," Zhen Shi said, cracking his knuckles, "then consider me the diarrhea that makes it worse."

Fatty Kui let out a soft "oooooh" and leaned in like this was the opening round of a spirit boxing match.

Han Yu stood slowly, dusting off his robes. "Listen. Zhen, was it? Zhen Shi. I already smell like I’ve been baptized in manure. There is very little left you can do to break me."

Zhen Shi smiled, showing all his teeth. "We’ll see." He said before leaving rather menacingly.

SIGH

"The trouble just keeps on visiting me like an unwanted aunty bringing marriage proposals.

The Next Morning

Han Yu awoke to the sound of furious sweeping. His sweeping duty.

"Huh? Who’s cleaning outside?" Han Yu was confused.

He rolled out of bed and found Zhen Shi outside their dorm already scrubbing the stone path. With a toothbrush.

"What the—what are you doing?" Han Yu couldn’t believe his eyes.

Zhen Shi stood up, dramatically wiping sweat from his spotless brow. "Just getting your morning chores done. Wouldn’t want you to be late, after all."

"...That’s oddly helpful?"

"Oh, don’t worry." Zhen Shi stepped aside, revealing a neat little sign posted beside the path.

It read:

"This path cleaned personally by Han Yu, servant of the Twin Leaf Peak, using only a toothbrush, tears, and deep, deep shame."

Several disciples had already walked past and taken notes. One had even tossed a coin into a nearby pot like it was a tourist attraction.