Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time

Back in the present, Han Yu sprinkled a tiny bit of eel essence—a shimmering blue powder—into the waistband of Shen Tu’s ceremonial underpants. It had been acquired by the rats from one of the house of some disciple. It would activate when worn, delivering a mild but persistent jolt every time the wearer channeled qi or vital energy below the waist.

Subtle. Elegant. Deeply uncomfortable.

Noodle handed him a tiny pin, which Han Yu used to pin the waistband just slightly tighter than usual.

"This is what we call poetic justice," Han Yu whispered. "Or at least... mildly zappy pants."

"Squeeee!" General Chitterfang saluted.

Elsewhere: Dormitory Nine – Common Room

Fatty Kui was teaching the other new servants the art of "Sleeping with Your Eyes Open So You Don’t Get Assigned Night Shift." It was a time-honored tradition that required an uncomfortable neck angle and the ability to fake light snoring.

This was a skill he had picked up back in his home town as he was often asked to do night duty to watch for any foxes that might come steal thier chickens. And now he intended to pass it on to keep the legacy alive.

A few of the children were struggling.

"No, no," Kui scolded, "you gotta let the drool flow naturally. That’s how they know you’re in a ’deep’ sleep."

Suddenly, a whistle echoed from the floorboards. Fatty Kui’s ears perked up. "Rat code!"