Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 184: Returning To The Sect And Reporting

Their pace was slower due to injuries, and they took detours to avoid known patrol routes where the Mist Eye Sect might be lingering. Though they didn’t encounter another ambush, the tension hung in the air like a blade waiting to fall.

They passed by silent valleys, winding rivers, and pockets of thick, unspoken mist that made their skin prickle.

Along the way, they had minor skirmishes with spirit beasts—nothing too dangerous. A Spear Horned Deer near a forest edge, a trio of Winged Lizard Bats that swooped at them during a rainstorm. But compared to what they had faced in the ravine, these encounters were mere warmups.

Han Yu noticed that each day his body moved smoother. His strikes were cleaner. His qi responded faster. And most of all—he didn’t feel as weak as before.

He was finally catching up.

By the time the Twin Leaf Peak’s outer gates came into view, he was walking ahead of the others, his step steady, eyes calm.

Fatty Kui saw the sect wall and let out a deep sigh. "Oh, sweet sect. I promise I’ll never curse your cafeteria food again."

Wu Shuan chuckled quietly. "Liar."

Han Yu grinned. "I’m just glad we’re in one piece."

As they crossed the threshold of the sect grounds, Han Yu looked up at the sky.

They had the elder’s sword. They had survived the Mist Eye Sect. And he had discovered something new about himself—about his cultivation and the balance between his body, soul and qi.

But something lingered in his chest.

The Mist Eye Sect won’t forget this.

And neither would he.

The familiar walls of the Twin Leaf Peak Sect felt like heaven after the chaos they had endured.

Han Yu, Wu Shuan, and Fatty Kui made their way toward the inner compound, clothes dusty, steps weary, and the elder’s sword wrapped in a plain cloth in Han Yu’s arms. A few outer sect disciples stared as they passed, murmuring among themselves.

After all, it wasn’t every day that three battered cultivators returned from a mission to contested territory looking like they’d fought through a war.

"Do we go straight to the Mission Hall?" Fatty Kui asked, glancing at Han Yu and Wu Shuan.

Wu Shuan nodded. "Yes. Then the report will go to the elder."

Han Yu shifted the sword in his arms and exhaled. "Let’s just hope they don’t throw us into seclusion for being late or something."

Fatty Kui grinned. "Too late for that. I’m going to say you were the one who punched a salamander’s head off."

Han Yu groaned. "You already told the gatekeeper that twice."

They entered the Mission Hall, where several duty elders and disciples were seated behind scroll-laden desks. One of them, a stern man with hawk-like eyes and a stiff gray beard, raised his gaze as they entered.

"Reporting a mission?" he asked, voice crisp.

"Yes, Elder," Wu Shuan said with a respectful bow. "Major Mission—retrieval of Elder Shan’s lost sword."

The elder’s brows lifted slightly. "Proceed."

Wu Shuan took the lead, narrating the events in a methodical tone. He explained how they had reached the ravine a day early, how they descended with difficulty, and their encounter with the Two-Legged Ravine Salamander. Fatty Kui chimed in to emphasize the creature’s ferocity—and how Han Yu’s thunder punch had made its head explode like a ripe fruit, complete with sound effects.

Han Yu added details about their search, the strange aura in the ravine, and the sudden attack by the Mist Eye Sect disciples. The elder’s brow furrowed as the tale progressed.

"They used an illusory formation," Han Yu said. "We didn’t realize until we were already lost inside. Their illusion made us circle around repeatedly. Even the terrain couldn’t be trusted."

"None of us are trained in formations enough to break them, " Wu Shuan admitted. "We couldn’t escape through skill alone. They were seven, all Qi Refining realm disciples. Coordinated and prepared."

"Three of us," Fatty Kui added, lifting his bandaged arm, "with one and a half limbs each by the end."

The elder nodded slowly, scribbling something down.

"And then?"

Han Yu’s gaze darkened slightly. "One of them... before the fight started, said something strange."

The elder’s hand paused over his scroll. "Strange?"

Han Yu looked to Wu Shuan and Fatty Kui. Both nodded.

"One of them said something about wanting to see if the ’intel’ was right." Han Yu spoke.

The hall quieted.

The elder put down his brush slowly and looked at them all.

"You’re certain of this?"

"Yes," Wu Shuan said.

"Three of them died," Han Yu added. "Two more were severely injured. But the remaining two escaped."

The elder’s expression shifted subtly—concern and calculation flickering beneath the professional mask.

"That sounds... like more than just a border skirmish," the elder murmured. He tapped the side of his desk. "If they had intel about the mission—perhaps even Elder Shan’s original deployment and being ambushed... this may be part of something larger."

"Elder Shan is still recovering, right?" Han Yu asked.

"Indeed," the elder replied. "And his sword being retrieved is no small matter. You’ve done well. This was meant to be a retrieval mission, not a direct engagement, but... I will report this to the council."

He stood and took the sword from Han Yu with reverence, then bowed slightly to the three of them—a rare gesture from a sect official.

"You’ve risked much. The sect will compensate you accordingly. Until further notice, all three of you are to rest and recover. Do not leave sect grounds."

Han Yu raised an eyebrow. "Are we... under investigation?"

"No," the elder said, lips tight. "But we may be under threat."

The meaning was clear.

The Mist Eye Sect wasn’t just causing trouble.

They were planning something.

As the elder turned and left the hall, the trio exchanged glances.

"Well," Fatty Kui said with a nervous chuckle. "That’s not ominous at all."

Wu Shuan let out a breath. "At least we’re alive."

Han Yu nodded in agreement.