Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time
Chapter 87: The Great Drag-and-Dry Campaign

Chapter 87: The Great Drag-and-Dry Campaign

Which sounded fine—until he arrived and discovered:

No soap

No water

No laundry

"Where’s the laundry?" Han Yu asked.

Shen Tu grinned from a nearby roof tile. "It’s in the creek. Down the hill. Fifty robes. All Outer Court."

"You threw them into the creek?!"

"Think of it as... a swimming lesson. For your dignity."

"You know what? Fine." Han Yu stared into the middle distance. "It’s not like I don’t know how to swim anyways." He muttered.

One hour later, near the Creek.

Han Yu waded through mud and biting flies. Water up to his thighs. Robes tangled like seaweed around his ankles.

"I hate this sect," he muttered, dragging out another soaked robe. "I hate this creek. I hate Shen Tu. I hate his stupid eyebrows."

The only thing he was thankful about was the fact that the water wasn’t really cold.

’It’s good that the winter here comes later than Oak Head Town.’ Han Yu thought before he heard something.

"Squeak."

Han Yu turned.

The spirit rat sat on a nearby rock, solemnly watching him. Behind it... were four other rats. They had tiny ropes. One had a needle tied to its back.

"...Wait. You brought backup?" Han Yu watched with wide eyes.

The spirit rat gave a slow nod.

Han Yu had never expected such help, and especially not from an entire squad of spirit rats!

Though it certainly made him wonder why they were like this. By now he knew that these weren’t really Spirit rats as their cultivation realm was still too low. This had already been confirmed by the three outer court disciples of the disciplinary committee.

The Rat were a mere Eight Stage of the Body Tempering Realm beast. It was honestly a bit pitiful than Han Yu when even a rat was of a higher realm than him.

This was also why he had been let off with a light punishment. If it were really spirit realm rat, Han Yu would have been in real trouble. After all, servants were not allowed to tame spirit beasts. As impossible as it might seem with their cultivation base.

Han Yu didn’t get to wonder much about the rats’ secret to intelligence,though, as they had a mission to do.

The operation that followed would be remembered in local vermin folklore as The Great Drag-and-Dry Campaign.

Han Yu wrung out the last robe just as Shen Tu returned, smug and ready to gloat.

"Aw, did little Han Yu drown in—"

He stopped.

Every robe. Hung. Dry. Folded. Some had flower patterns ironed into them.

Han Yu stood beside the drying rack, towel over his shoulder, sipping tea made from some dandelions he had picked around the water’s edge.

"How," Shen Tu hissed, "how did you—?"

Han Yu patted the spirit rat. "I’ve got a union now."

The rat waved a tiny flag made from a scrap of disciple underwear leaving Shen Tu feeling like he was just dreaming.

Later that night in dormitory nine...

Fatty Kui sat stunned as Han Yu explained everything over a dinner of suspicious meat buns.

"You’re telling me... the rats work for you now?"

"No," Han Yu corrected, "we work together."

"They’re like... your little disciples?"

Han Yu looked out through the roof hole again. "No. Not disciples."

He grinned.

"They’re family."

The next morning greeted Han Yu with the usual fanfare of low-ranking servitude: a rooster that sounded like it smoked, breakfast that actively resisted chewing, and Shen Tu lurking in the corner like a particularly malevolent houseplant.

"Kitchen duty today," Zhen Shi said, tossing him a greasy apron and a rusted ladle. "Try not to poison anyone."

"Kitchen duty again? Why are you giving me work that Senior servants do?" Han Yu questioned before squinting at the ladle. "...Is this bent? And is that... is that blood?"

Zhen Shi simply walked away without answering.

Fatty Kui patted his shoulder. "If you die, can I have your dumpling recipe?"

"I don’t have a dumpling recipe."

"Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not dying yet." Fatty Kui said as Han Yu could only let out a sigh and head out.

The kitchen of the Twin Leaf Peak Sect was less a place of culinary art and more a battlefield of cutlery and fire. Pots clanged, smoke billowed, and at least one cauldron was screaming. Not from anything inside it. Just... existential dread.

Han Yu stepped in cautiously, apron on, ladle at the ready.

"I’ve been told to put you on rice duty," said a weary, soot-covered cook. "You mess this up, the outer court disciples will riot. They stabbed a man over undercooked dumplings last month."

"No pressure, then," Han Yu said, staring at the sack of spiritual rice. It shimmered faintly with qi. The grains looked smug.

This time it was actual spirit food and was one of the few meals that the outer court disciples got to enjoy weekly. Han Yu could not afford to mess it up or just the cost of ingredients would put him in debt that he might not pay off until he was forty.

He began measuring and washing, following the ancient Servant Cookbook:

’Step 1: Don’t die. Step 2: Wash rice. Step 3: Hope.’

Things were going well—until the sabotage kicked in.

Halfway through, the stove fire suddenly died out.The water jug was mysteriously full of vinegar.And someone replaced the spiritual salt with ground crab shell.

Han Yu looked up. Shen Tu was in the doorway, whistling innocently, holding a suspiciously crab-shaped shaker.

"Oh no," Han Yu muttered, staring at the bubbling, cursed cauldron. "The rice is going feral." The ground crab shell somehow alchemically reacting with the spirit rice.

Shen Tu chuckled and sneaked away, not wanting to be caught as collateral damage when the pot exploded.

’The Classic Spirit rice and Bubbling Crab Shell combo.’ Shen Tu smiled to himself as he went to do some of his own work.

He was sure that Han Yu was going to be doomed.

Just then, a familiar sound echoed from the shadows.

Squeak.