Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 743: Bane Of Amatures

The damage was extensive. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Some meridians were merely constricted, their walls stiff and scarred. Others were fractured, jagged tears running along their length like broken channels after a flood. And then there were the worst ones. Entire segments that had collapsed inward, twisted upon themselves, or fused incorrectly during the initial trauma.

Those were his priority.

Healing the lighter damage first would accomplish nothing. If Qi were allowed to flow even partially, it would slam violently into the ruined sections and cause unbearable pain, possibly worsening the damage. Han Yu knew this from theory, from observation, and now from experience.

So he began where it hurt the most.

The first needle slid in, guided by spirit sense rather than sight. He adjusted its angle by fractions of a degree, threading it through flesh and into the damaged meridian wall. A second followed, then a third, forming a precise pattern meant not to heal yet, but to stabilize.

Meng Jueyan's body trembled.

Sweat beaded instantly on her forehead.

Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding faintly, but she did not cry out. Not once.

Han Yu worked in silence for two hours.

Every few minutes, he adjusted a needle.

Redirected Qi. Applied minute pulses to test resistance. At times, he paused entirely, simply observing the reaction within her body. His eyes were cold, analytical, treating her less like a person and more like a complex formation that needed correction.

By the time he finished, Meng Jueyan's robes were soaked through with sweat, her breathing shallow but controlled. Her hands were clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms.

Han Yu withdrew the last needle and stepped back.

He handed her several pills without comment.

She swallowed them obediently.

Han Yu watched her closely, his spirit sense alert for fluctuations. Pain. Fear. Confusion. Gratitude.

Nothing significant.

The Eight Emotions energy remained negligible.

That, more than anything else, reassured him. She still did not understand what he was truly doing. To her, this was punishment. Or experimentation. Or perhaps simply the whims of a cruel master.

Good.

Satisfied for now, Han Yu left the cave once more.

He ordered additional supplies to be delivered. Food, medicinal herbs, basic materials. The female disciple at the supply hall behaved exactly as expected, pale and tense, avoiding his gaze while recording the order. Slaves would deliver everything directly.

With that settled, Han Yu turned his steps toward the Puppet Peak.

The path there felt oddly nostalgic. He had spent countless hours in these workshops before, surrounded by wood, metal, spirit silk threads, and half finished monstrosities that had collapsed under their own complexity. During his long mission, he had not had the luxury of hands on practice. At best, he had reread manuals while hiding in caves or waiting out blizzards.

Theory without practice dulled the edge.

He needed to know if he had grown rusty.

He bought some materials, rented a workshop and sealed it, activating the sound dampening formations. Then he retrieved materials from his spatial storage pouch and laid them out with practiced efficiency.

For his test, he chose the same nightmare as always.

The puppet infamously known among puppet masters as the Bane of Amateurs.

Its design was deliberately cruel.

Four centaur like forelegs with independent joint systems. A long, segmented hind body like a caterpillar, suspended rather than grounded. A central core that required perfect balance between weight distribution and spirit thread tension. And atop it all, a vaguely humanoid head structure that needed to remain stable despite the constant motion below.

Most puppet masters failed before assembling even half of it.

Han Yu had never completed it before.

He began.

First came the frame.

He carved spirit treated wood with careful, deliberate strokes, reinforcing stress points with thin bands of refined metal. Each leg was assembled separately, joints tested repeatedly for range of motion and resistance. He paused often, adjusting measurements by hair breadths, guided by an instinct that felt sharper than it ever had.

Then came the caterpillar body.

Segment by segment, he assembled it, inserting flexible connectors that allowed motion without compromising stability. In the past, this was where everything fell apart. Either the body sagged, or the joints seized, or the entire structure collapsed under its own imbalance.

This time, it did not.

Han Yu frowned slightly as he worked.

He moved on to the core.

Spirit threads were the true test. Too tight, and the puppet would tear itself apart. Too loose, and it would collapse into a useless heap. Han Yu guided them with his spirit sense carefully, weaving them through internal channels with a steadiness that surprised even him. He then connected it to the rest of the Formations, completing around ninety percent of the array.

Finally, the head.

He hesitated here, remembering past failures. He adjusted his approach, subtly altering the angle of the internal supports, redistributing weight in a way he had not considered before. With that done, he finally added the control array and connected it to the rest of the puppet's body.

And when he finished, the puppet stood assembled.

Han Yu activated it.

SHUA

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Tremble

Then the puppet moved.

One leg stepped forward. Then another. The caterpillar body lifted, segments undulating smoothly without throwing the center of gravity off. The head remained upright, eyes glowing faintly as it responded to his commands.

The Bane of Amateurs stood.

Stable.

Functional.

Obedient.

Han Yu stared at it in silence.

"How…" he muttered. "Did this work?"

He stepped closer, issuing more complex commands. The puppet turned. Pivoted. Balanced on three legs while adjusting its hind segments. Not once did it falter.

A slow realization dawned on him.

His soul cultivation had not merely improved his combat abilities. It had sharpened his control. His perception. His ability to manage multiple variables at once without losing cohesion.

He had crossed a threshold without realizing it.

Han Yu let out a quiet breath.

If this was what he could do now with puppetry, then the implications were far reaching.

And dangerous.

Very dangerous.