Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 751: Working On Blood Arts

After a short while, Han Yu stepped away.

Asking directly about the mining operation was not an option.

If he questioned a clerk about mining operations, it would immediately raise red flags. How did he know about them? Why was he interested?

In the Blood Sect, curiosity was a liability.

Han Yu exited the Mission Hall and paused at the top of the steps, the cold wind brushing against his robes.

"So I wait," he murmured.

’Or I create my own opening.’

His thoughts shifted again, gears turning.

There were other paths.

He was now an Apprentice Puppet Artisan with an exceptional record. Puppet specialists were valuable. Mining operations used puppets extensively. Load carriers. Excavators. Precision manipulators.

Maintenance would be required constantly.

If he positioned himself correctly, he could be assigned to service puppets at the mines.

That would get him close.

Close enough to observe.

Close enough to gather information.

Close enough to see the seals.

Han Yu’s eyes gleamed faintly.

That path would not be immediate. It would require reputation. Consistency. Visibility.

But it was feasible.

And unlike brute force or reckless infiltration, it aligned perfectly with Ju Fan’s current identity.

He turned and began walking back toward the Puppet Peak.

For now, he would continue as he had been.

Work.

Learn.

Accumulate merit points.

Strengthen his foundation in blood mastery.

Every day brought him closer to the level he needed.

The mines would still be there tomorrow.

And when the time came, Han Yu intended to walk into them not as a desperate rescuer.

But as someone the sect itself had invited inside.

Time passed quietly for Han Yu, measured not in dramatic upheavals but in steady, deliberate progress.

Outwardly, nothing had changed.

He was still Ju Fan, an apprentice puppet artisan who spent most of his days on the Puppet Peak. He took maintenance missions, repaired complex mechanisms, refined control arrays, and attended lectures when they aligned with his schedule. To the sect, he was productive, obedient, and unremarkable in ambition.

Inwardly, however, Han Yu was laying bricks for something far larger.

He waited.

Not idly, but with purpose.

Every day, he balanced three things carefully. His work with puppets, his studies in blood arts, and his vigilance for the right opportunity related to the mines. None of these could be neglected. Overcommitting to one would only weaken the others.

What surprised him most was how naturally blood arts theory fit into his existing foundation.

The first time he seriously sat down with a blood arts manual, he had expected something alien. Something brutal, chaotic, or incomprehensible. After all, blood cultivation had a fearsome reputation even among unorthodox sects.

Instead, what he found was structure.

Logic.

A framework that felt disturbingly familiar.

As he read, Han Yu slowly realized that blood arts were not some crude perversion of cultivation. At their core, they were an extension of alchemy. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Blood was not treated as a taboo substance, but as a medium.

Just like herbs, minerals, or beast cores, blood was a carrier. Of energy. Of information. Of properties shaped by the life that once flowed through it.

Many of the theoretical Chapters mirrored alchemical texts almost line for line. Concepts like impurity ratios, resonance, saturation limits, and stabilization cycles appeared again and again.

Even the way blood reacted to heat, cold, and spiritual pressure followed patterns Han Yu already understood.

"This is just alchemy with a living medium," he muttered one evening, rubbing his temples as he cross referenced two texts.

The realization made comprehension much easier.

The difficulty was not in understanding what needed to be done.

It was in doing it.

Blood arts were unforgiving.

A minor error in alchemy might reduce pill quality. A similar mistake in blood refinement could cause the blood to clot, decay, or worse, violently destabilize.

The rituals were especially troublesome.

They were not passive procedures. They required constant input, constant adjustment, and precise emotional control. A distracted mind or wavering intent could ruin an entire batch.

Han Yu knew theory alone would not carry him far.

He needed practice.

Real, hands on experience.

So he began at the very bottom.

Instead of beasts, he purchased cheap animal corpses from the sect’s supply channels. Chickens, goats, pigs. Mundane animals with no cultivation base whatsoever.

They were considered worthless by most disciples, but to Han Yu they were perfect.

Simple systems. Minimal interference. Ideal for learning.

He rented an alchemy chamber, one that could just as easily be used for blood arts, and sealed himself inside.

The first lesson was extraction.

Not simple exsanguination.

Blood arts manuals were very clear about this point. Letting blood drain naturally was inefficient and crude. It damaged the internal structure of the blood, caused premature coagulation, and introduced impurities from surrounding tissues.

Proper extraction depended on intent.

On location.

On method.

Han Yu started with chickens.

He practiced identifying arteries and veins, guided by both anatomical diagrams and his spirit sense. Even in mundane creatures, the difference was clear once he looked closely.

Arterial blood was brighter, warmer, and carried a more stable flow of life energy. Venous blood was darker, heavier, and already carried the byproducts of metabolism.

Both had uses, but they were not interchangeable.

He used specially prepared syringes for controlled extraction, then moved on to precise incisions with thin blades, carefully isolating specific vessels.

Then came organ specific blood.

Heart blood was the most prized.

It carried the strongest imprint of life force and intent. Even in mundane animals, heart blood exhibited a faint but unmistakable resonance.

Liver blood was dense and rich, often used in stabilizing mixtures.

Kidney blood carried filtration properties.

Each type behaved differently under spiritual manipulation.

Han Yu repeated the process dozens of times, methodical and patient.

Mistakes happened.

Sometimes the blood clotted too fast.

Sometimes it darkened unexpectedly.

Sometimes it lost vitality within minutes.

Each failure was recorded, analyzed, and corrected.

Once he grew confident in extraction, he moved on to purification.

Filtering blood was not as simple as passing it through cloth.