Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 180: A Close Victory

CRAAACK!

The beast’s skull caved in with the force of a war hammer, and its eyes bulged as the momentum twisted its entire upper body.

A second later, its head exploded, severed clean off by the impact.

The massive corpse slumped, crashing to the ground just inches from Kui.

"...Did you just punch its head off?" Kui asked from the dirt, eyes wide.

Wu Shuan groaned from the cliff wall, slowly standing with a hand on his ribs. "Did he what?"

Han Yu stood there, panting, his fist still sparking with qi. He stared at the now-headless corpse.

"...Huh," he muttered. "I think I overdid it."

Fatty Kui rolled over, cackling. "No complaints here! Remind me to never steal your steamed buns!"

Wu Shuan limped over, visibly impressed despite the bruise forming on his jaw. "That... was definitely a breakthrough. You used qi more efficiently. The technique surged through your entire frame."

Han Yu looked at his hand, which was still slightly trembling.

"I guess," he said softly, "I’m finally getting the hang of this."

Han Yu had no idea how he had managed to do this.

’I charged it for even less time than the previous strikes and yet it was sevearl times more powerful than them.’ Han Yu wondered how it worked. ’It was almost the same as the Ghostly Man. He managed to use it at a moment’s notice too. And it’s power was just like this.’ He thought to himself.

The one flaw of Bolt God Fist was the time it needed to charge it. The more qi was used in it the stronger it was, but at the same time it took longer to use it. And if one didn’t focus or was interrupted midway, they could face a backlash and end up injuring themselves.

As such, it was a high risk high return kind of a skill.

But now Han Yu realized it didn’t have to be like that.

’No wonder they say desperation brings out your true potential.’ Han Yu thought to himself.

Han Yu flexed his fingers as the faint sparks around his fist faded away. The adrenaline began to ebb, replaced by a curious warmth in his chest—not just from relief or excitement, but something deeper.

Strength.

Real, tangible strength.

He had fought a Peak Qi Refining beast, and not only survived but dealt the final blow. And more importantly, he hadn’t even needed to rely on his Soul Skill this time.

’So this is what it’s like... when your training starts to pay off,’ he thought, his eyes drifting to the fallen Two-Legged Ravine Salamander.

Fatty Kui stood beside him, brushing dust from his sleeves. "That was amazing, Brother Han. You’ve upgraded from comedic relief to actual powerhouse!"

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Han Yu replied, though a smug grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Still got a long way to go."

Wu Shuan dusted himself off as he approached, rubbing his ribs. "That strike was no joke. If that’s how you punch with that skill, then the next time you do... I’m not standing anywhere nearby."

Han Yu nodded slowly, still thoughtful. ’Maybe focusing on both qi cultivation and soul cultivation is the right call for me. A dual path.’

"That skill is good," Wu Shuan said. "Though where did you get? Does our sect have a fist skill like that?" he wondered.

"I got it from a beggar whom I helped." Han Yu replied. "Though I can tell the story later. Let’s get out first, I don’t want any more trouble coming our way." he added

Fatty Kui coughed. "Speaking of trouble, I believe we’re still here for a certain elder’s sword and not to host a barbecue for oversized lizards."

They resumed their search, walking back into the rocky clearing the salamander had made its home. The torches flickered against the rough ravine walls, casting odd shadows that shifted and slithered with each step. After a few minutes of searching through cracked boulders and piles of disturbed earth which was the result of their fight, Wu Shuan let out a soft whistle.

"Found it."

Near the base of a jagged stone was a sword—partially buried under a fallen slab and coated in dried salamander slime. Though grimy and weathered, its spiritual presence still pulsed faintly.

"That’s the one," Wu Shuan confirmed. "Still damaged but not affected by our battle."

Fatty Kui stepped closer and squinted. "Ew. The dried slime stinks!"

Han Yu stepped forward and gingerly lifted the weapon. As his hand wrapped around the hilt, the spiritual energy within it responded faintly, pulsing like a dormant heartbeat.

"Still intact," he said. "But probably lost its edge in that fight." freewebnøvel.com

"Let’s not lose ours," Wu Shuan muttered. "We should leave before more salamanders show up."

Just as he finished that sentence, a distant rumble echoed through the ravine.

Han Yu tensed. "...That wasn’t a salamander."

They all went still, listening.

Another thud. Then two more. A faint shimmer of air. And then, barely audible over the wind, the sound of feet moving—soft, swift, deliberate.

From far up the ravine, high above the path they had taken, a group of figures stopped at the ledge. Their silhouettes were barely visible against the moonlight, but the trio below could make out flowing robes and long weapons.

Then came the voice.

"You hear that thunder earlier?"

"Sounded like a qi technique. Strong one, too."

"Might be scavengers. Or intruders."

"Elder will want to know."

Han Yu’s eyes widened. He pressed himself against the stone wall, motioning for the others to stay quiet.

Fatty Kui gulped audibly. "Mist Eye Sect," he mouthed.

Wu Shuan’s face darkened. "They heard the Bolt God Fist. That sound carries."

"How many do you think there are?" Han Yu whispered.

"Too many for us to take head-on," Wu Shuan replied grimly.

Han Yu cursed under his breath. "We have the sword. We should leave—fast."

Fatty Kui nodded quickly. "Agreed. I didn’t come here to star in a sequel titled Fatty’s Final Moments."