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

Han Yu reckoned, One day, he'd rent the Advanced rooms without blinking.

One day, he'd be refining high-tier pills with the same ease Li Mei showed when tossing ingredients in her cauldron like cooking noodles.

But for now—he would train here.

He would earn it.

Han Yu sat down cross-legged before the cauldron, the flame beneath it pulsing gently under his guidance. He closed his eyes, focused his mind, and began his practice.

He had all day. And for the first time in a long while… he felt like the path forward was clear.

The flame flickered beneath the bronze cauldron, steady and obedient under Han Yu's spirit sense.

He sat cross-legged before it, sleeves rolled back, sweat already misting across his brow—not from heat, but focus. Before him, neatly arranged on a jade tray, were the ingredients for the Spirit Qi Restoring Pill, a basic but essential alchemical product.

Han Yu had refined this pill many times before—first under Li Mei's supervision, then on his own. His success rate hovered around 50 to 60% on average. Some batches had exploded, some had condensed into useless mush, and a few lucky ones had turned out decent. The biggest bottleneck was always the flame control.

But now… he had a proper Flame Array, and the difference was immediate.

"Let's begin," he murmured.

He activated the flame with a flex of his spirit sense. The runes beneath the cauldron responded with a low hum, and a red tongue of fire licked upward in perfect symmetry.

Han Yu carefully dropped the first ingredient: Qi Cloud Grass. It hissed softly as it touched the bottom of the cauldron, releasing an herbal mist that infused the air.

He adjusted the flame's intensity—just enough to extract the herbal essence but not enough to scorch it. The cauldron responded with precision, like a loyal beast awaiting his next command.

Step by step, Han Yu moved through the process. Spirit Orchid Root, Drying Star Leaf, Soft Lotus Bark—each added at the right time, the right temperature, guided not only by theory but by instinct honed through repetitive failure.

And then—without even realizing it—he was done.

The pill formed with a soft hum and a gentle swirl of vapor. It rose to the surface of the cauldron, small and smooth, releasing a soft medicinal fragrance.

Han Yu blinked. He stared at the single, perfect Spirit Qi Restoring Pill laying at the cauldron's bottom.

"It's done?" he whispered, stunned. "That was… so easy?"

It felt surreal.

The struggle, the stress, the margin of error that plagued him before—gone. The flame hadn't resisted. The cauldron hadn't wobbled. The ingredients had reacted just as the theory had described.

'It was like I was trying to drink soup with a fork, and someone finally gave me a spoon…'

He picked up the pill and examined it under the light. It wasn't flawless—there were faint swirls of impurity—but it was still good enough to be exchanged.

Heart pounding with excitement, Han Yu looked down at his remaining ingredients.

"Let's see just how far this can go."

One by one, he went through the process again. Each time, he made small improvements. He focused on the problematic stages—refining the Orchid Root more gently, not overheating the Star Leaf, blending the Lotus Bark more precisely.

Seven pills out of eight attempts.

Only one failed—when the Star Leaf gave off a sour odor midway through the process, signaling that the herb was too stale. He had tried salvaging it, but the refinement collapsed.

Still, a 7/8 success rate was nearly unbelievable for someone who'd only begun learning alchemy a month ago.

By the end, he had nine refined pills—one from the first test, seven successful refinements, and one partial pill salvaged from the failed batch that still had enough potency to count.

"Time to sell."

Han Yu gathered the pills and returned to the Alchemy Peak Resource Exchange Pavilion. The sun was dipping lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the stone tiles of the courtyard. Disciples bustled about, some exchanging ingredients, others bartering for pill recipes or buying equipment.

He stepped into the pavilion and walked up to the appraisal counter.

The disciple behind the jade stone desk was a tall, thin man with narrow eyes and a bored expression. But the moment he saw the tray of pills, his gaze sharpened. He reached for a formation disk and activated the pill quality appraisal array.

Pills of this level didn't need a personal appraisal by an alchemist. Just the array was enough.

Each pill was passed through a glowing light and judged in turn. The array emitted a chime every time a pill passed inspection.

"One… two… three… nine pills total," the disciple muttered, jotting something down on a jade slip. "Purity levels are acceptable. A bit of impurity variance, but nothing extreme. Yield is consistent. You're turning them in under the open-market refinement exchange?"

Han Yu nodded.

"You'll receive merit points per pill, depending on purity. Let's see… total is 150 merit points."

The disciple handed Han Yu a slip showing the breakdown:

3 pills at 18 points

4 pills at 16 points

2 pills at 14 points

"Not bad for beginner work," the disciple added with a nod. "Your name?"

"Han Yu."

He was handed his merit slip, and the points were added to his identity token.

Han Yu left the building, heart thumping. He stood in the courtyard, staring at the token in his hand.

"One hundred and fifty points… for five hours of work."

He did the math.

He'd spent:

50 merit points on herbs, purchasing from the pavilion at a discounted bulk rate.

Technically 0 points for the pill room, since this was his weekly free usage.

In total, a 100-point profit.

But even if he had paid the usual 10 merit points per hour, his costs would've been:

Herbs: 50

Room rental: 50= 100 merit points spent, 150 earned → 50-point net gain

It was modest but meaningful.

And this was just the Spirit Qi Restoring Pill, one of the lowest-grade formulas in existence.