Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 58: The Second Round

Fifteen minutes passed as the first round of matches finally ended.

The number of recruits had been halved, leaving barely a bit over a hundred from the original two hundred something. Han Yu hadn't gotten around to counting them, so he didn't know the exact number.

'This should go fast,' Han Yu thought as he looked at Elder Nie Jing.

"The first round is now over. You will all get fifteen minutes of rest before the next round begins," the elder announced.

But the faces of several recruits turned anxious.

"Just fifteen minutes? I don't think I'll be able to fight so soon. I'm exhausted," one recruit muttered.

"I can't even move my leg properly. I'm bound to lose in the next round," another recruit groaned.

"My hands are sore."

"My back is sore too."

"I think I bruised my soul."

There was no lack of complaints, but the elder had no intention of waiting longer. In a way, this was part of the test. Endurance was key, and in a real battle, an enemy wouldn't care how injured or tired you were.

Meanwhile, Han Yu was in top shape, casually snacking on dried meat like he was watching a street performance. Occasionally, he'd throw a piece in the air and catch it with his mouth, much to the irritation of the recruits groaning around him.

The break passed quickly, and the next round began.

CLAP!

The elder clapped his hands again, and the number of rings on the battlefield reduced significantly.

"Looks like I won't get to see as many fights this time," Han Yu mused, watching the rings shimmer into existence.

"Go in," the same disciple as before gestured toward Han Yu and another recruit. Han Yu recognized him from the previous batch. He had brought seven disciples along, but only two had managed to survive the first round.

The number might seem low, but given that some disciples didn't have a single recruit left, this was still a win.

Han Yu looked at his new opponent—a boy who seemed a bit younger than him, around fourteen years old. He had the face of an innocent child, the type you'd expect to see chasing chickens in a village, not engaging in combat.

"You two ready?" the supervising disciple asked.

"Yes!" both Han Yu and the boy replied.

"Begin!"

WHOOSH!

This time, Han Yu's opponent made the first move, having learned from watching the previous fight. He knew Han Yu was faster, and since he was also at the Eighth Stage of the Body Tempering Realm, he figured his best chance was to strike first.

"I've got you now!" the boy declared with all the confidence of a chicken trying to peck a wolf.

Han Yu, unimpressed, took a leisurely step back, dodging the punch with ease.

"Try again." Han Yu smirked.

The boy rushed forward again, fists swinging wildly. Han Yu dodged effortlessly, stepping to the side like he was avoiding a puddle on the street.

This time, he took a more passive stance, simply observing. Not because he doubted his ability to win, but because he was curious. How skilled were others his age? This information could prove useful in future fights.

For two full minutes, Han Yu dodged every attack with minimal effort. The boy huffed and puffed, swinging like his life depended on it, while Han Yu casually stretched his arms as if warming up for a morning jog.

"Boring. I'll just end it," Han Yu sighed.

The boy's next punch came flying toward him.

Han Yu lowered his head, dodging effortlessly, before sweeping his hand in a swift motion.

"AH!"

The boy let out a startled yelp as his arm was slapped aside, completely disrupting his stance.

THUD!

Han Yu followed up with a clean strike to his opponent's chest, knocking the wind out of him. The boy staggered, gasping like a fish out of water.

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Even though Han Yu hadn't used the Bolt God Fist Technique, his basic punches had improved tremendously due to practice. And this was without even amplifying his strength with his Vital Energy.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Han Yu struck three more times—once to the shoulder, once to the back, and finally, a light tap to the face.

The last strike was enough. The boy collapsed onto the ground, his gums bleeding slightly as he groaned in defeat.

"You win!" the supervising disciple declared, waving for Han Yu to exit the ring.

Han Yu wiped nonexistent dust from his clothes. "That was easy." He strolled out of the ring, hands behind his head, as if he had just finished an afternoon stroll.

By the time he was done, about a third of the other matches had also ended. Han Yu took the opportunity to spectate.

'Hmm... the numbers will be halved again. Let's see...' He began to count. "Sixty-two left."

He calculated further and estimated that the entire assessment would end in five more rounds.

'Shouldn't take long.'

Han Yu watched the fights, particularly those of the stronger candidates. Most of them had won already. Murong Xie, for example, had ended his fight in just thirty seconds, a fact that irked Han Yu slightly.

"Show-off," Han Yu muttered.

Ten minutes later, the second round ended, and another fifteen-minute break was given.

"We'll start the third round," Elder Nie Jing announced, and the number of rings reduced again—this time, only thirty-one remained.

Around sixty-two candidates had survived this round, but most of them looked exhausted and worn out. The next few rounds would be even shorter. Some of them could barely lift their arms, while others looked like they were reconsidering every life decision that had led them to this moment.

Han Yu stepped into his next fight, facing off against another disciple's recruit.

"He's at the Ninth Stage of the Body Tempering Realm," Xu Qing warned from the sidelines.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine," Han Yu replied nonchalantly.

His opponent was sixteen years old, but it was clear he had no real battle experience.