Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 135: Escaping The Vault

This array was far beyond anything Han Yu could fully comprehend, but he noticed there were certain patterns that flared brighter when touched by light — likely a detection mechanism.

Under the cover of darkness and with the help of the Shadow Melding Robes, he might just be able to slip through.

He took a deep breath.

With a soft push, he eased the heavy door open just wide enough to squeeze through.

No alarms sounded. No lights flared.

Heart hammering, Han Yu darted out into the cool night, vanishing into the gardens without a trace.

Behind him, the vault door silently swung shut once more, as if he had never been there.

Han Yu slinked through the night like a ghost, keeping to the shadows and narrow paths between the buildings. Every creak of wood, every rustle of leaves, made him tense, ready to flee or hide at a moment’s notice.

Thankfully, the Shadow Melding Robes lived up to their name. Wrapped in their darkness-absorbing fabric, Han Yu’s figure all but disappeared into the night. Unless someone stared directly at him—and even then—they would probably just see a flicker of movement, like a trick of the light.

He knew the outer sect like the back of his hand after spending so much time there as a servant and newly promoted disciple. Using that familiarity, he crept along walls, ducked behind garden hedges, and slipped between storerooms and training grounds until finally, he reached the familiar, modest courtyard that had been assigned to him.

He froze at the entrance.

It was silent.

No lanterns were lit. No voices or footsteps stirred inside.

Han Yu carefully pressed his ear against the wooden gate and listened. Nothing.

’Good.’

He pushed the gate open just enough to slip through, then quietly closed it behind him. He swept a quick glance around—there was no sign of anyone having come here recently. The stone paths were undisturbed. The plants in the small garden were overgrown, untended.

The small wooden house at the back of the courtyard looked just as he had left it — plain, worn, but serviceable.

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Han Yu slipped inside.

The familiar scent of wood and dust greeted him. It felt like a lifetime ago he had been here.

He sat down heavily on the edge of his thick bed, still cloaked by the Shadow Melding Robes, though he pulled back the hood to finally free his head. His black hair was messy, and his body felt strange — stronger in some ways, lighter in others.

It was only now, in the quiet of his old home, that he finally allowed himself a moment to gather his thoughts.

"What... exactly happened?"

The memories were fragmented at first. Falling into the ravine... the pain... dying...

Then the pearl. The strange whispering voice. The technique — the Undying Destiny Severance — being absorbed into him. His resurrection, standing naked amidst the sect’s hidden vault of treasures.

It was overwhelming.

He clenched his fists tightly, feeling his nails dig into his palms.

"I need to figure out what happened. How much time has passed since then?"

The sect could have changed greatly depending on how long he had been gone. If people thought he had died—and he clearly had—then there would be questions. If he suddenly appeared now without any explanation, it would cause no end of trouble. Suspicion. Investigation. Maybe even imprisonment.

"I can’t let anyone know I’m here. Not yet."

Han Yu got up and carefully peered out the window. The courtyard remained empty. Good.

First things first—he needed information.

He would have to sneak around, listen to conversations, find out what the sect thought had happened to him. Only then could he make a plan.

He also realized something else grimly: he was now living on borrowed time. Without official status in the sect, he was an illegal existence. Worse, if anyone found out he had been in the special vault—even accidentally—he would be treated as a thief, maybe even executed on the spot.

He touched the Shadow Melding Robes lightly.

They were the only reason he had gotten this far unnoticed. But even they wouldn’t save him forever.

Han Yu’s mind raced.

"I’ll have to lay low. Gather information. Maybe find a new identity if necessary..." he whispered to himself.

One thing was certain: the Han Yu that everyone had known — weak, bullied, barely scraping by — had died in that ravine.

The one who had come back was someone else entirely.

Han Yu waited until the darkest part of the night, when even the most diligent disciples were too exhausted to remain vigilant. Slipping out of his courtyard once more, he blended into the shadows, the Shadow Melding Robes wrapping him in near-invisibility.

He moved like a wraith between walls and alleys, heading toward the outer sect’s communal areas where disciples often gathered. He needed to listen—gather anything he could.

Yet, as he crouched behind walls, listening to passing conversations, a strange, hollow feeling gnawed at his chest.

Most of the disciples were chatting about minor things: chores, missions, recent training sessions.

No one mentioned him.No one whispered about Han Yu.No one mourned.No one cared.

It was as if he had never existed.

Han Yu gritted his teeth as he slipped behind another pillar, his heart heavy. ’So this is how it is...’

He had known he was low-ranked, had no deep friendships, no powerful backers. But to realize his death hadn’t even caused a ripple in the sect...

It hurt more than he thought it would.

’Still... focus. Focus.’ Han Yu reminded himself.

After an hour of stealthy eavesdropping with nothing to show for it, he finally caught a break.

Two disciples walked by, each carrying wooden scrolls filled with duty assignments. They spoke casually, their voices carrying in the quiet night.

"...I’ll be on gate duty starting the twenty-eighth of July. Ugh. Just my luck."

"That’s nothing. I have to clean the Spirit Beast Pens from the first of August! It’s already the end of the July now. Only five days away. Guess we’re stuck."