Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time
Chapter 83: Mayhem in the Mess Hall

Chapter 83: Mayhem in the Mess Hall

Han Yu’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

Fatty Kui patted him on the shoulder. "Could’ve been worse. He could’ve written it on your forehead."

’Just what do they intend to do?’ Han Yu couldn’t figure it out.

Though pleasantly enough, he found himself with a bit of free time now.

"May as well train, I didn’t get to do much the last two days." Han Yu muttered.

"Enjoy your time, I wish I got the VIP treatment too. But now i gotta go clean shit." Fatty Kui said with some sadness before stuffing another bun in his mouth and walking away.

Later that day, as Han Yu was preparing himself mentally to face another round of spiritual sewage, Zhen Shi returned—with backup.

"I’ve thoughtfully volunteered you for additional latrine rounds," he said sweetly. "Double shifts, Han Yu. Gotta show that servant spirit."

Behind him were three other servants. They all looked like minor villains from a children’s puppet show. One had a squint. Another was holding a mop like a club. The third was chewing on a twig with extreme menace.

"Meet the boys," Zhen Shi said, like a mafia don introducing his goons. "We call ourselves the ’Mop Squad’. We clean... and we clean you out."

"I swear," Han Yu muttered, "if you start charging me for protection, I’m flipping a bucket."

Though Han Yu would later prefer that they charged him for protection, as what they had done was much worse. They had multiplied the work Han Yu had done. They showed him off some ’ideal servant’ that went above and beyond in their line of duty.

Han Yu was forced to not only clean the latrine from yesterday, which had alreayd gotten filled up through some mysterious power.

"Just what are those fasting pills doing to these disciples? How are they able to shit so much even after eating no food?" Han Yu couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He could only sob silently and do the work however he could until it was finally time for the shift to be over.

Back in the dorm, Han Yu sat on his mat, covered in soap bubbles and mysterious bruises.

Fatty Kui handed him a steamed bun. "Rough day?"

Han Yu bit the bun like it owed him money. "Zhen Shi is trying to mentally and emotionally waterboard me."

"And physically."

"Also that."

Fatty Kui nodded solemnly. "Well. If it makes you feel better... I heard there’s a spiritual beast that lives in the old garden behind the tool shed. Maybe you could befriend it. Train it. Ride it into battle and trample Zhen Shi’s broom."

Han Yu looked up through the same cursed hole in the roof.

"Maybe," he whispered. "Or maybe I’ll just slip laxatives into his breakfast for the next week."

Fatty Kui gasped. "You’re learning the servant way!"

The third day as a servant, Han Yu awoke with the kind of headache that could only be caused by low-quality soap, passive aggression, and prolonged exposure to latrines. He cracked one eye open.

Fatty Kui was gone.

Which meant one of two things: either he was finally recruited as someone’s personal food taster, or he’d rolled off his mat and gotten stuck again between the wall and the water barrel.

Before Han Yu could confirm either, a loud clang echoed through the dorm.

"Han Yu!" someone bellowed from outside. "You’re on kitchen duty today! Report to the mess hall before I personally sauté your spine!"

Han Yu groaned. "Why is that the least threatening thing I’ve heard this week?"

Though he also felt quite confused.

"Wait, isn’t cooking something only the senior servants do?" Han Yu furrowed his brows. "Why’d they give it to me? Did they find out how good of a cook I am?" He wondered.

He dragged himself out of bed, barely had time to tie his belt, and stumbled across the sect grounds to the mess hall—a massive building that smelled like pickled mushrooms and oil smoke.

Inside, chaos.

Steam billowed from giant pots, flames danced dangerously close to eyebrows, and several servants were frantically trying to outrun a chicken that had apparently unlocked its spiritual potential.

"Run! That chicken’s claws will cut through your flesh like butter! It’s at the Tenth Stage of the Body Tempering Realm!" The servants shouted.

Han Yu narrowly avoided getting caught in the chase, as he leaned out of the door in just the right moment.

PHEW

"I definitely don’t want to die to some random chicken." Han Yu now felt like the sect was full of danger. ’Even a chicken can be stronger than the servants.’ The boy shuddered.

Zhen Shi, of course, was waiting at the entrance. He clicked his tongue, feeling unlucky that Han Yu was not attacked by the chicken.

’Need to reassess the chicken plan. I didn’t expect the servants to get targeted by it first.’ Of course Zhen Sui had been the one to bring the chicken here in the first place.

But for now he had other plans he could use.

"Oh good," Zhen Sui said, already grinning. "You’re just in time to help prepare lunch for the Inner Court disciples. Don’t worry, I’ve already arranged your duties."

Han Yu didn’t like the sound of that. He liked it even less when Zhen Shi handed him a knife the size of a forearm and pointed at a suspiciously large sack of onions.

At first he wondered why they were cooking food.

"Don’t they just eat fasting pills? Is there some special occasion?" The boy asked.

"Just their biweekly ’normal meal’ studies have shown that continually eating fasting pills can be determination to their mind and can raise the chances of Qi deviation." Zhen Sui said with the look of a scholar.

"So it better be perfect." Zhen Sui ordered. "I want them peeled, sliced, and diced. Perfectly uniform. No tears."

"Isn’t that impossible?" Han Yu asked.

"Not for someone dedicated," Zhen Shi said, already backing away with the glee of someone who had just pressed the self-destruct button on a mech suit.

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