Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 114: The Forest Arena

The next day, Han Yu woke up and went straight to Li Mei to finish his duties early. He was also prepared for the ’meeting’ at night, thus didn’t want to get injured by some experimental pills.

As such, he pleaded with Li Mei to not to do dangerous pills today and he managed to get away scot-free with just a few pills, one of which that made the soles of his feet itch, another that made him see glitter everywhere even though it wasn’t there and one that made him sneeze every time he used a word with the letter E.

Other than that, he simply helped Li Mei clean her place and organize it a bit. Heavens knew just how much trash and defective experiments she had lying around. It was due to her experiments and the danger she possessed that she didn’t live on the residential peaks like other Outer Disciples and lived here at the base of the residential peak.

Thankfully for her, she made a decent amount, so building a decent house and workshop for her was easy so she wasn’t bothered. If anything, she got the privacy she needed and wasn’t bothered by others.

On the opposite hand, she got to bother as many people as she could, as everyone had to pass by the street that was near her house. She also got to pick off any servants or outer court disciples that were foolish enough to pass by and be spotted by her.

There had been enough victims that no one went near her and avoided that path even if it meant that they had to take a longer route.

Because of this, Li Mei had to wander around looking for her next guinea pig.

At least that was until she found Han Yu, who seemed to be the longest lasting pill tester of hers so far.

After Han Yu had finished his duties, he returned to his room to rest and prepared before heading out at night.

Han Yu arrived at the edge of the eastern forest under the cover of night, the black-paper invitation burning a hole in his sleeve pocket. Every part of his body screamed "bad idea," but curiosity—and the promise of gold coins—dragged him onward.

The trees were dense, ancient, and eerily quiet. Eventually, he spotted a faint glow in the distance—firelight flickering like the eyes of a predator.

A clearing opened before him.

A large circle had been cut into the forest floor, reinforced with talismans and blood-dyed spirit ropes. Makeshift stands were set up on stone slabs, and cultivators of all types—servants, outer disciples, rogue cultivators, even a few masked individuals from gods-knew-where—sat around with goblets, bags of spirit stones, and wide eyes.

A man was thrown into the ring. Bloodied. Breathing heavily.

Across from him stood a towering woman with crimson tattoos, holding a spear twice her size.

Han Yu watched in shock as the fight began. It wasn’t just a contest of strength—it was war. The woman struck like a tempest. Bones cracked. Blood sprayed. The man screamed once before his body hit the ground, motionless.

Han Yu paled.

Then the announcer raised a hand. "DEAD!" he yelled cheerfully. "Victory to the Crimson Spear! Payouts at stall three!"

The crowd roared with excitement. A few people even tossed spirit stones into the ring like confetti.

Han Yu turned on his heel immediately. "Nope. Nope nope nope. This is not for me."

But just as he took a step back, two figures appeared at his sides. Quiet as ghosts, firm as iron.

One of them—tall, cloaked, face completely covered—placed a hand on Han Yu’s shoulder. "First-timer?"

Han Yu forced a smile. "Haha... yeah, and also a last-timer, because I’m about to go home and cry."

The other one leaned close. "Once you enter, you fight. One match minimum. That’s the rule."

"I wasn’t told that rule," Han Yu said, voice rising.

The masked figure pointed toward the stands. "Look closely. Most of them didn’t know either."

Han Yu glanced at the crowd. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed the tension in some faces, the anxious coin-pouch gripping, the slight tremble in their legs.

This wasn’t entertainment for everyone. Some were here because they had no choice.

Han Yu swallowed. "And if I don’t fight?"

The hand on his shoulder tightened.

"You don’t leave."

Han Yu exhaled slowly. "Fine. Fine. One match. But it better not be against someone with ’crimson’ in their name."

He was soon escorted to a cramped prep area behind the ring. There was a low bench, a water gourd, and a man vomiting into a barrel.

Another participant, a young rogue cultivator with sunken eyes, looked at Han Yu and said, "First time?"

"Yeah." Han Yu said, while trying to stay as calm as he could.

The man grinned weakly. "Don’t worry. If you’re lucky, you’ll only leave with permanent nerve damage."

Han Yu stared. "...Thanks, that’s very reassuring."

The announcer’s voice rang out. "NEXT MATCH! A new challenger! From Twin Leaf Peak Sect’s Servant Division—Han Yu, the Cold Beauty Sock Stealer!"

"...WHAT!?"

The crowd burst into confused murmurs and a few cheers. Apparently, his sock theft incident had reached the criminal underworld.

"And his opponent, a crowd favorite: the Butcher of Mengzi River Stronghold!"

"WHAT!?"

A tall, muscular man with scarred arms, a butcher’s apron, and actual cleavers stepped into the ring, smiling like he just got promoted from slaughterhouse duty to murder duty.

Han Yu stepped into the arena with all the confidence of a chicken walking into a fox summit.

The boy glanced at the rather bulk man, wondering just how strong he was.

’He certainly looks strong... and menacing,’ Han Yu thought. ’They won’t pair me up with some qi refining realm cultivator, would they?’ He hoped it was not so.

At the very least, the man’s appearance didn’t make it seem like he was a cultivator.

The Butcher cracked his neck. "I like fresh meat."

Han Yu raised his fists. "And I like not dying—so let’s get this over with!"