Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time

Han Yu let his explanation hang in the air for a heartbeat before continuing, weaving his lie with practiced ease.

"The invisible, nearly imperceptible second half was released while I fought. It was a gamble, to be honest. I doubted if enough of the Mist Eye disciples had inhaled the first part for the effect to take hold. But when they suddenly froze…" He trailed off, chuckling lightly, though his eyes gleamed with feigned relief. "It worked after all."

A few of the juniors exchanged surprised glances. Senior Brother Duan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Then the female disciple who fled…" Xuan Qing spoke again, his brows drawn tight.

Han Yu shrugged, keeping his tone casual. "Likely she did not inhale enough of the first poison for the second to affect her for long enough. That is why she escaped while the others fell. Fortunate for her, unfortunate for us."

Senior Brother Duan's eyes lingered on him. "And you? Why did you collapse at the end?"

Han Yu gave a self-deprecating smile, raising his hand and flexing his fingers as if still feeling a lingering weakness. "I inhaled some myself. Not much, but enough to stagger me when I forced myself to keep fighting. That is why I collapsed once it was done. I will recover with a little rest."

The excuse was flawless.

He could see it working in their expressions. The suspicion faded, replaced instead with admiration and even gratitude. The danger of discovery passed, and the lie was swallowed whole.

"I see," Xuan Qing murmured, her eyes softening. "To think you would even risk yourself with such a gamble…"

Wu Shuan clapped Han Yu's shoulder firmly, his usual solemn face breaking into rare warmth. "It saved us all. If not for you, we would have been overwhelmed."

Fatty Kui, still bandaged and scowling from pain, gave a grin. "Han Yu, I owe you my life. I will repay it one day."

Even Senior Brother Duan, though not as openly expressive, gave a single nod of respect.

The atmosphere shifted noticeably.

Where there had been confusion and doubt, now there was trust and appreciation. It was subtle, but Han Yu could feel it flowing toward him. The currents of the Eight Emotions stirred in the air, invisible to all but him.

Strands of green trust energy, thick and vibrant, poured into his body from his companions. Their belief in him had deepened, and the energy surged into his Soul Core, feeding the glowing lotus within.

Han Yu felt his spirit lighten, satisfaction blooming in his chest.

His reputation among them had risen once again. He kept his expression modest, feigning humility, but inside he was pleased. The gamble had not only worked, it had turned into an advantage greater than he expected.

The group began tending to their wounds more earnestly, using pills and salves, while the seniors kept watch on the passage ahead.

For the first time since entering the maze, a fragile sense of unity settled among them. They were still in the depths of danger, but they now looked at Han Yu not just as a junior, but as a pillar of strength who had pulled them back from the jaws of death.

With the danger gone for the time being, the group could now explore the rest of the repository.

"Shall we continue ahead?" Han Yu asked.

"I see no reason why." Senior Brother Duan replied and the others nodded.

"Very well, Chitterfang time to earn your meal." Han Yu said as he tapped the rat who had been hiding in his robes to be safe from the battle.

Screech

Chitterfang scurried forward, its whiskers twitching as it examined the faint grooves on the walls and the almost invisible seams in the floor.

The others followed behind slowly, trusting the little rat far more than their own eyes. The oppressive silence in the corridor was only broken by the occasional clicking of Chitterfang's claws against stone, and the faint hiss of breath as one of the seniors inhaled nervously.

The path ahead looked deceptively simple, but they all knew by now that nothing in the repository could be trusted at face value. It was Chitterfang that first froze, its small body stiffening as it pointed toward the floor with its tiny paw. Han Yu immediately signaled the others to halt.

"There," Han Yu said quietly. "Pressure plates. If someone steps on them, it will trigger the trap."

The seniors narrowed their eyes, but even with their cultivation they could barely see the faint lines outlining the plate. If Chitterfang had not pointed it out, they might have marched directly to their deaths.

With deliberate care, they tested the edges of the corridor. A spear shot out of the wall the moment one senior placed his foot on the wrong patch of stone, barely missing him. The man paled and quickly pulled back, his eyes filled with renewed respect for Han Yu's pet.

Chitterfang continued to lead them further in.

Sometimes it scratched at the walls, warning them of hidden darts. At other times it refused to move until they checked the ceiling, where sharp pendulums waited to drop. The group grew more and more tense, their breathing shallow, their eyes darting in every direction.

After what felt like an eternity of cautious steps and near-misses, they finally emerged into a long corridor that seemed devoid of any tricks. The air felt still and almost clean compared to the oppressive danger behind them.

The tension that had gripped everyone began to ease slightly.

"Finally, a stretch without traps," Fatty Kui muttered, sitting down heavily against the wall.

Sweat gleamed on his forehead, though they had not been running. The sheer mental strain of walking through the gauntlet had worn him down.

The others also relaxed somewhat, taking the chance to adjust their breathing and recover. Han Yu, however, remained quiet, his gaze flicking to Chitterfang who had curled itself near his feet. The rat looked calm for now, which meant there was no immediate danger.