Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 284: Triple Fatty Alliance

"Brothers!" Fatty Kui one bellowed. "Let it be known that today marks the beginning of a great legacy! The formation of our sworn brotherhood—The Triple Fatty Alliance!"

Han Yu spit out his wine. "What?"

"You don’t have to be fat to join," Kui One said quickly. "It’s about spirit! You have the fatty heart, Han Yu! You belong!"

"I’m not sure that’s a compliment."

"We three will rise through the cultivation world together!" Kui One continued, ignoring him entirely. "One glutton! One madman! And one mysterious bastard with too many secrets!"

"I feel targeted," Han Yu said.

"You are!" Kui Two chimed in. "Now shut up and swear the brotherhood oath!"

They made him get up, stand in a triangle with them, and slap their palms together. Kui One chanted something half coherent about loyalty, buns, and immortal ascension through friendship and digestion. Han Yu tried to hold back his laughter but failed utterly.

As their palms met, something curious happened.

A faint ripple of golden light shimmered between the three of them for the briefest moment that only Han Yu could see. It wasn’t a true oath formation, not by cultivation standards—no qi sealing, no divine witness, no blood offering. But it was genuine. The emotions shared in that moment—loyalty, amusement, a touch of nostalgia—were deep and pure.

And for Han Yu, it was a windfall.

The Eight Emotions Energy in his Soul Space stirred. It trembled once, then flowed just a bit faster, a few new strands of liquified soul qi weaving into the nearly three quarters-full reservoir he’d been nurturing.

He took a deep breath, letting the emotion anchor him, and smiled.

Maybe this was why people always said friendships were a cultivator’s greatest treasure.

Or maybe that was just the wine talking.

Later, Kui Two passed out using Han Yu’s lap as a pillow, still mumbling something about fighting a peach tree next. Kui One had collapsed backward and was now snoring loud enough to make a squirrel in the distant tree rethink its life choices.

Han Yu sat there quietly for a while, watching the stars. The night was peaceful, his courtyard lit by the soft, pulsing glow of a spirit lantern. He could hear the crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl in the nearby trees. The plum tree swayed in the wind—mercifully, not challenging Kui Two to a rematch.

He gently placed a blanket over Kui One and adjusted Kui Two’s head so he didn’t wake up with neck pain. Then, stretching with a satisfied grunt, he sat back down and let the night wash over him.

The Eight Emotions Energy was still warm in his body.

Perhaps the greatest irony of his cultivation path was this: while others sought battles, ancient inheritances, or fierce trials to break through their bottlenecks, Han Yu’s best gains came from parties, pranks, and friends.

It wasn’t the fastest path, nor the most respected. But it was his. And for tonight, that was enough.

He closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, things would return to chaos, schemes, and secrets. But for now... he let the peace linger.

Sunlight trickled through the slats of Han Yu’s courtyard shutters, gentle and warm. A bird chirped somewhere in the tree, and the wind rustled the hanging prayer slips by the entrance. Morning had come and, for once, there was no explosion, no sect-wide misunderstanding, and no alchemist yelling "What do you mean your hair grew backwards?!"

Han Yu stirred, blinking slowly as the rays of sunlight brushed his face. A dull ache bloomed in the back of his head—a combination of poor sleep posture and too much wine.

"Urrgghhh... I think I swallowed a fire crystal," Fatty Kui One groaned from the floor nearby. His blanket was wrapped around his torso like a robe, his hair sticking up like a startled porcupine.

"I think I fought a fire crystal," Kui Two mumbled, rubbing his face and discovering a suspicious plum blossom still stuck to his forehead. "Why does my face smell like chicken skewers?"

Han Yu sat up and cracked his neck. "That’s because you tried to stab a tree with one. And then lost."

"I won!" Kui Two protested, pointing dramatically—only to fall over again.

Eventually, with much groaning, they all got to their feet. Han Yu changed into a fresh robe and helped the two fatties freshen up, pouring cold water from the basin onto their faces without mercy.

"Ack! My soul just left my body!" Kui One howled.

"Good, maybe it’ll come back smarter," Han Yu replied dryly, smirking.

Moments later, Kui Two clutched his stomach. "Brother Han, we’re starving. I can hear my intestines negotiating with each other."

"Agreed," Kui One said with a solemn nod. "Breakfast must be secured before we all enter Qi Deprivation Madness."

Han Yu chuckled. "Fine. Let’s go to the mess hall before you two start trying to cook my plum tree."

With that, the three made their way through the sect grounds, drawing curious stares and grins from fellow disciples. The sight of the infamous (not really) Twin Leaf Trio—Han Yu walking straight while the two Kui brothers waddled beside him like disheveled guards—was enough to brighten the otherwise mundane morning for most outer and inner sect disciples alike.

The mess hall was already alive with activity.

Tables were filled with chattering cultivators of all ranks and backgrounds, their plates stacked with steamed buns, rice porridge, pickled vegetables, and grilled beast strips. The scent of herbs and spices was comforting, like the gentle qi flow after morning meditation.

Han Yu got himself a simple bowl of porridge and some sesame flatbread. The Kui brothers, of course, loaded their plates like famine survivors.

"Strategy," Kui One whispered. "Layered buns, meat on top, soup dumplings to the side—defensive formation."

"Advanced technique," Kui Two nodded solemnly. "The ’Seven Dish Swallowing Art.’"

They sat at a table near the back, close enough to hear others but far enough to not be surrounded. Han Yu quietly ate while listening to the conversations around him.

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