Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 538: Cave 666

Han Yu trudged along the last stretch of the stone pathway, his eyes half-open from exhaustion. His legs ached, his back felt stiff, and he was beginning to suspect the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect was some kind of labyrinth designed by madmen.

For nearly an entire day and night he had searched, going from one end of the peak to the other, yet every signpost seemed to mock him. When he finally reached what looked like a secluded ridge with only a few scattered cave dwellings, he felt the faint flicker of energy pulse from his sleeve.

The identity token he carried, Ju Fan's token was glowing.

Han Yu blinked in surprise, staring at the faint light before realizing what it meant. His heart finally lifted after so long wandering the crimson valleys.

"At last," he muttered, almost laughing. "You little lump of misery, you finally did something useful."

Holding the token up, he walked slowly along the rocky cliffside, passing one dark cave after another. The token pulsed faintly each time, but the glow became brighter the farther he went.

Finally, in front of a particular cave mouth half-covered in dust and cobwebs, the glow flared to full strength.

Han Yu stopped and exhaled deeply. "Found you at last."

He stepped closer and brushed the thick layer of dust off the old wooden sign above the entrance. The carved numbers were barely legible, but after a few wipes with his sleeve, the sign revealed its identity.

"Six hundred and sixty-sixth cave," Han Yu read aloud, blinking twice. "Oh, perfect. The number of misfortune itself. Why am I not surprised?"

He stared at the number for a long moment before sighing. "Ju Fan, you were truly born under a cursed star."

Shaking his head, he tapped the identity token against the door's formation lock. The formation shimmered weakly before unlocking with a soft click. Han Yu pushed the heavy stone door open and immediately regretted his decision.

The smell that greeted him was enough to make a corpse faint. It was a pungent mixture of old blood, rotting meat, and unwashed cloth, blended into one unholy stench that seemed to claw at his nostrils.

"GAH!" Han Yu gagged, stumbling back and covering his nose. "What kind of pig sty is this place!?" he shouted, his voice echoing across the quiet cliffside.

For a moment he genuinely wondered if Ju Fan had been cultivating in the middle of a slaughterhouse.

He lit an illumination talisman and stepped inside, moving carefully as though expecting something to crawl out and attack him. The talisman's glow revealed a cave that could only be described as the aftermath of a disaster.

The floor was covered in layers of dried, dark brown stains that looked suspiciously like blood.

A shallow pool of coagulated crimson had gathered near the center of the chamber, thick enough to glisten like tar. Beside it stood a lopsided wooden table and a meditation mat so filthy it was nearly black.

On the shelves carved into the rock walls, he found jars, bottles, and containers filled with mysterious substances.

Some had dried into crusty flakes, others emitted faintly nauseating smells. One jar even contained what looked like… something that had once been alive. Han Yu decided not to look too closely.

The walls were worse. Symbols and handprints in dried blood covered nearly every surface, as though Ju Fan had tried to decorate the place with evidence of his madness.

Han Yu pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Even the Bronze Tribe wolves lived cleaner than this. What in the heavens was wrong with this man?"

He tried taking another breath but immediately gagged again.

Stumbling back out into the open air, he took out an old robe from his storage bag and began fanning the air inside furiously. "By all the ancestors, get out of there!" he hissed, fanning so hard that his arms began to ache.

After several minutes of desperate fanning and a few qi amplified swings, the smell finally began to fade. He cautiously stepped back in and was pleased to find it at least no longer smelled like decomposing beasts. Now it only smelled like wet stone and regret.

"Progress," he muttered dryly.

He surveyed the cave again. It was cramped, filthy, and utterly depressing. The lamps had long burned out, replaced by old candle stubs that had melted onto the stone floor. The bed was little more than a slab of uneven rock with a single torn blanket thrown over it.

Han Yu rubbed his forehead. "This… this isn't a cave. It's a crime scene."

He decided to check the caves nearby. Maybe, just maybe, one of them was empty and in better condition. He walked over to the next one and tried to push the door open. It didn't budge. He infused a bit of Qi and immediately felt a rejection from the formation lock.

"Ah, right," he murmured. "Locked. Figures."

He tried the next one and received the same result. It became clear that each cave was protected by individual formations linked to their occupants' tokens. Unless he was an elder... or suicidal there was no way to force one open.

Han Yu groaned. "I could probably spend an entire week trying to hack into one of these and end up as a blood stain for my trouble."

He looked around, confirming that no one was nearby, then muttered, "So much for moving to a better neighborhood."

With no choice, he trudged back into his assigned cave.

The moment he stepped inside, he could feel the sticky humidity clinging to his robes again.

He sighed and looked around the mess with an expression of long-suffering patience. "Han Yu, cultivator of great destiny, inheritor of fate and disaster alike… now demoted to janitor... again."

He picked up a rag that looked only slightly less disgusting than the floor and started wiping down the walls. Each pass left streaks of brownish smears that made things worse instead of better.