RETURN OF THE MONKEY KING
Chapter 1
A sea of billowing, white clouds stretched across the realm, reaching far beyond the horizon to distances mere mortals could not comprehend.
Amidst the heart of the cloud sea, a colossal temple ascended, its walls resplendent in gold, silver, bronze, and quartz. Its sheer size and magnificence, a sight that could only be matched by the palaces of the Jade Emperor, left all who beheld it in awe.
At the temple's peak was a set of humble stone stairs leading further up into the sky, and at its end was a vast platform created by divine clouds bathed in golden sunlight. On each side were rows upon rows of giant lotus flowers, every petal as vibrant as the morning sun. The misty environment around them was reminiscent of their natural environment in the mortal realm—peeking through dawn fogs that blanketed their tranquil, crystalline lakes and rivers.
Arhats, monks who had resisted, fought against their earthly desires and reached enlightenment, sat peacefully upon each lotus. Their eyes were closed, and their palms were placed together. Though their lips barely moved, the sound of them reciting their prayers reverberated throughout the skies.
At the end of the hall of golden clouds, resting upon the largest of the lotus flowers, was the leader of this renowned and respected Pantheon.
The Buddha.
He towered over every other being in the domain, his physical size a representation of his influence over the mortal world. Yet, despite the imposing sight, he emanated nothing but an aura of humble wisdom, calmness, and peace. Even the most bloodthirsty, warmongering of demons and monsters would submit and vanquish their former ways in his presence.
One such former demon king, arguably the most famous of the Buddha's subjugations, would soon appear before him.
As today was the day.
The journey took fourteen grueling years and eighty-one death-defying tribulations.
But today, the journey was finally complete.
There they stood.
The five pilgrims who braved the Journey to the West.
Tang Sanzang . The reincarnation of the Golden Cicada and the chosen Buddhist monk to carry out this arduous pilgrimage. It is said that a single bite of his flesh can render someone immortal, which was the catalyst for many of their adversaries during their journey.
The White Dragon Horse. A dragon prince and the third son of the Dragon King of the West Sea. He had committed a sin so grave that it deemed for him to be executed, but in his last moments, he was offered a chance to redeem himself, and without hesitation, he agreed. Thus, he became the mount of Tang Sanzang.
Zhu Bajie. A former Heavenly Marshal who commanded the one-hundred thousand soldiers. In a drunk mishap, he offended a high-ranking Goddess and was banished to the mortal realm. However, an error in the cycle of reincarnation cursed him with the appearance of a humanoid pig. As a result, his lust, greed, and gluttony grew until they were nigh uncontrollable, so much so that he was deemed a demon by any humans he came across. Eventually, the chance of redemption came knocking, and he became the second disciple of the Tang monk.
Sha Wujing. The third disciple and another former resident of the Jade Pantheon. He was exiled to the mortal realm for accidentally shattering a prized possession of the Heavenly Empress. As a result, his previously human appearance morphed into a hideous one resembling a demon: deep blue skin, coarse red hair, and a hulking appearance. Before the journey, he was a river demon in Flowing Sands River, terrorizing and eating anyone who attempted to cross it. He was subdued and joined the team the day Sanzang arrived.
Sun Wukong. The one who defied destiny. The first and the most infamous of Tang Sanzang's disciples. The Monkey King. The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. A mere whisper of his name could send even the most bloody and ruthless demon kings scampering back into their caves. A simple flick of his wrist could summon the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas. A flick of his tail and even the God of the Underworld would be at his service. He alone fought against the entire Jade Pantheon and was on the verge of victory when the Buddha himself intervened. A bet was placed, and the Monkey King lost. He was sealed for five hundred years until Sanzang was guided to him by the Boddhisatva Guanyin.
At long last, their little crew had trekked all across the four continents and reached their destination to retrieve the sacred scriptures.
Before the Buddha, the five bowed with palms together in respect and greeting.
The Buddha congratulated them on reaching Thunderclap Monastery and presented them with the scriptures they had traveled so far to achieve.
Furthermore, the pilgrims were offered another gift for their invaluable efforts—a divine and spiritual promotion—and all of them accepted.
Tang Sanzang was appointed the 'Buddha of Sandalwood Merit,' who could purify negative impurities.
The White Dragon Horse reclaimed his iridescent, reptilian form and ascended to become the 'Heavenly Dragon of the Eight Divine Sections.'
Bajie was given the title 'Cleaner of Altars', and while it was the lowest-ranked promotion offered, he was more than content with it as it meant an eternity of feasting on the offerings mortals would place upon their shrines.
Wujing was promoted to a higher position than Bajie but lower than his master, as he was chosen to become an Arhat and joined the other Arhats on the rows of mystic lotuses.
"Sun Wukong. Please step forward," The Buddha's voice rumbled through the Monastery.
The Monkey King obeyed.
"You have performed better than I expected on your mission to protect Xuanzang on his journey. For that, I commend you. Although there were moments of reluctance and abandonment, you still stuck true to your word and courageously carried out your task,"
The Monkey King remained silent and nodded.
"From this day forth, I will designate you the title of Victorious Fighting Buddha, and—"
"Actually, can we hold off on that for a bit?" Wukong raised his hand and asked, cutting the venerated being off, "I don't want to be a Buddha,"
His sudden interruption sent gasps and looks of bewilderment through Thunderclap Monastery. The Arhats exchanged glances and began to whisper amongst themselves. The Boddhisatva Guanyin glanced at the Buddha sitting beside her, a look of concern flashing across her expression. The Monkey King's companions' jaws dropped as they scrambled to his side, barraging him with questions upon questions.
Only the Buddha remained unbothered, almost as if he had predicted this to happen.
"Wukong, what are you doing?" Tang Sanzang asked; the disbelief on his face was more significant than any of the times the Monkey King had threatened to leave the journey midway.
"What I think is right," Wukong simply replied.
"You stable boy!" Bajie exclaimed, "Five hundred years ago, you turned the Heavenly Realm upside down to make yourself immortal a hundred times over, and now that you're on the cusp of the ultimate form of immortality, you reject it?!"
"Bajie, calm down, I'll explain it in a bit,"
Wukong's fiery eyes and golden pupils glided over his other two companions, Wujing and the White Dragon. They both had a look of worry and perplexity that he had not seen since the escapade at Lion-Camel Ridge.
The Great Sage brushed past his friends and moved closer to the Buddha. The chattering remained, but the Buddha instantly quieted them all down with a wave of his hand.
"I shall listen to your explanation, Monkey. Then I will make my judgment,"
"You once said that this journey was about learning, did you not?" Wukong began, "And I learned. I learned that I was an impulsive fool who didn't give a damn about the opinions of others. Before, I did what I wanted and took what I fancied. I realized that I simply cared for myself and no one else. That I wanted to solve everything on my own,"
The Monkey King began to pace around as he explained, "But through our pilgrimage. I began to listen to others, to my friends, and to all the gods I fought before. I sought out help when needed, and I listened to their advice. I resisted the urge to keep the magical items and returned them to their rightful owners. I stopped killing without rhyme or reason. I even began to question why I was so hungry for immortality in the first place,"
"On our way here, an epiphany came to me," he continued, "I haven't been a great, no… I was not even an adequate king to my subjects back on Flower Fruit Mountain. Since I came out of that rock, they treated me as a family, but once the power reached my head, I looked at them as nothing but mere pawns. And that is something that I deeply regret and wish to fix,"
Sun Wukong stopped in his tracks and faced the Buddha again. A confident spark in his eyes as he stared directly into the Buddha's.
"I need not for the title of Buddha. I merely wish to return home to Flower Fruit Mountain and live out the rest of eternity as the Monkey King. Nothing more, nothing less,"
"That is a paramount and imperative decision to make. Few get the opportunity to become Buddha. Are you certain this is your path?"
Wukong nodded firmly.
"I see," The Buddha hummed, briefly closing his eyes in deep thought.
"...Wukong," the voices of his companions reached his ears.
The Monkey looked back, flashing them his signature cheeky grin, and joked, "I'm already thousands of times immortal; it's not like I need another layer,"
"Very well," After a minute, the Buddha's voice boomed, directing all focus back to him, "I shall grant this request,"
His decision sent waves of shock through the cloudy monastery once again, and though the hall was filled with chatter, none dared to speak up about it.
The Buddha paid them no mind and reached his palm over Wukong as he did five hundred years ago to seal him under the Five Finger Mountain. A bright light shone from his hand, bathing the Monkey King in it.
The golden circlet around his head, a literal source for all his headaches, had loosened and floated up and off him.
"Your journey is complete, and though you have no desire to become a Buddha. You have respected and learned our teachings, gaining humility and mercy. Thus, you are now released from the Binding Circlet and free to return home,"
Wukong beamed and slapped his hands together to perform one last Buddhist bow, thanking the leader of the Pantheon before turning to his companions.
"You are certain of this decision, brother?" Sha Wujing asked.
"Of course," the Monkey King responded, "I may grow to regret this decision later, in a million years perhaps, but that is a problem for then, not now,"
The blue-skinned arhat chuckled and placed a hand on Wukong's shoulder, "Then I will not stop you. Go, brother. Return to your mountain and tell stories of us to your subjects so the tale never dies. For that is another form of immortality,"
"I will,"
The White Dragon Horse was the next to step up, "Say hello to my father and siblings for me on your way back, will you? Especially my eldest brother, rub my new position in his face,"
"Of course,"
"You useless, stable boy, seeking trouble up until the end," Zhu Bajie commented, a smirk then stretched across his lips as he bumped his fist into the Monkey's shoulder, "Rile up some more, will ya? I need some stories to listen to while I clean the altars,"
The Monkey King nodded, "Don't expect anything less,"
"Wukong," Tang Sanzang approached his disciples, "I will admit, I am surprised by your decision, but I will respect it nonetheless. The past fourteen years have certainly flown by, and though we've had our ups and downs, our conflicts, and I will admit when we first began, even I questioned why I was given a disciple as wild as you were…I am proud to be able to call myself your master," The ascended monk looked at his companions, his gaze lingering on them for a minute each, "…All of you,"
"Thank you, master," Wukong replied, "I have acquired much knowledge from you, and I will use it to the best of my abilities… And by the way, it's not like I'm leaving forever; this is just a temporary goodbye. We can all fly now, visiting each other is gonna be a piece of cake,"
Tang Sanzang smiled and nodded, "I suppose you're right,"
Wukong sauntered over to the edge of the cloud platform and gazed out at the sprawling cloud sea. He turned back and gave his friends a final wave.
"Until we meet again,"
With that, he blasted off and soared through the skies in the direction of his beloved mountain.
The wind whistled violently by his ears and ruffled his ashy-brown fur as his simian form rushed high above the continents. He weaved through the clusters of fluffy, white clouds and pierced through the air like an enhanced, divine arrow.
For the first time in five hundred years, Wukong felt a sense of true freedom and peace. Everything was over. No more journeys, no more bodyguarding, no more wars, no nothing. He was free to live his life as merrily as he once did in the days before he became the king.
His thoughts eventually drifted to his home. When he thought about it, it had technically been five hundred years since he had truly gone back there. Yes, there were times during the journey when he returned, a couple of times due to leaving the party temporarily and once because of the Six-Eared Macaque incident, but he had never stayed long; it'd be lucky if he even stayed an entire day.
This would be the first extended visit in centuries, or perhaps 'grand return' would be a better term.
He just hoped there weren't any problems with hunters or overly ambitious demon kings trying to take over the mountain. Not that his monkeys couldn't defend themselves, but the fact that he'd have to fix some disaster that befell his home every time he went back was a little weird.
'I should make the army stronger this time around,' Wukong suggested to himself, 'We'll celebrate for a few days then we'll get straight to training,'
With another motive and a tinge of worry set in his mind, the Monkey King sped up, and the ground beneath him became a blur.
Suddenly, something crashed into him.
Caught off guard, Wukong spiraled and descended devastatingly at lightning speed until he tensed his muscles and caught himself midair.
"The hell?!" He whipped his head up in the direction of whatever had collided with him.
It was a figure wrapped in a dark, ragged cloak. As it slowly floated down, Wukong couldn't help but sense the familiarity emanating from the stranger.
When the stranger reached the same level as the Monkey King, the wind lifted their hood, and it barely took a second for Wukong to recognize him, or in this case, himself.
Wukong's voice was a low growl, "Macaque,"
"Hello, brother," the Six-Eared Macaque greeted him with a slight, sinister smirk.
"You're supposed to be dead. I killed you five years ago,"
"I know. I saw,"
"What do you…?" Wukong raised a brow before the realization hit him, and he clicked his tongue, "It was a clone,"
"That's right," the Macaque confirmed, "Have you forgotten the Buddha's words that day? About us, Four Celestial Primates, and our abilities? I saw my fate long before I approached you, so why in hell would you think I'd actually follow you to Thunderclap Monastery?"
The Six-Eared Macaque gradually flew closer to the Monkey King, "And why are you all the way out here? Abandoning the group again? What happened this time? You and the monk have a classic clash of morality?"
"That's none of your business," Wukong retorted.
"But I think it is," Macaque countered, "You rejected the Buddha's offer, didn't you?"
"How did you—!"
The Macaque crossed his arms and released his six ears before gesturing toward them, "Remember, I can see fate with these, but rest assured, I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to offer you a proposition of my own,"
Wukong eyed his twin warily before responding, "Speak,"
"I seek the position you refused. You seek to go home and continue being the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. I take your place, and you disappear off the map. Simple, no?"
The Monkey King snorted, "You're a fool if you think the Buddha will allow that,"
"And you think he won't?" The Macauqe's expression turned stoic, " You are the fool if you think that the Heavenly Pantheons are as benevolent as they show themselves to be,"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
The Macauqe inched closer, their faces only a fist apart, and he whispered harshly, "A storm is brewing, brother. I need the power that enlightenment grants to stop it and complete my objective,"
"You speak in pathetic riddles that make no sense," said the Monkey King.
"Let me spell it out for you then. Tathagata doesn't care which one of us ascends; it is simply that one must live and one must die as long as the title of Victorious Fighting Buddha is claimed," the Macaque revealed. "Now I don't know why. Every time I try to seek that answer, there's always a thick haze guarding it. It's nothing good that I can assure you,"
"And why are you on the side of good now? If you ask me, this all smells like a farce,"
"I speak the truth, Wukong," the Macaque snarled, "And I wouldn't call myself 'good.' I'm simply on the side of myself, but this impending storm will be a devastating one, and I have things to protect, too,"
"You've done nothing in the past for me to believe a word that you say," Wukong reached up to his ear and drew out his famous Ruyi Jingu Bang. With a shake of his wrist, the staff erupted into its default size, "I missed my chance before, but not this time. I shall finish what we started,"
The Six-Eared Macaque groaned; he ran a hand frustratingly through his dark-brown, simian hair, and his lips pulled back in an animalistic growl.
"I told you, I don't want to fight. We both desire peace, so why not work together to achieve it?"
"Are you not the one who forcibly tried to take over my life five years ago?"
"That was a tribulation! I was assigned to that post! What about that do you not understand!?" Macaque snarled.
A look of puzzlement flashed across the Monkey King's features as he echoed, "You were assigned?"
"As were most of the others. The eighty-one tribulations weren't just coincidences, brother. They were all meticulously placed along the path. We all had our own goals, so we worked with the Heavens to achieve them, and now look where that led us. Half of us are dead, and the other half captured,"
Wukong blinked rapidly and scrunched his brows as he ran the possibility of that being the truth through his mind, "That's…impossible,"
"And that's what they made you think," The Six-Eared Macaque extended a hand, "Stop this storm and seek the truth with me, brother,"
The Monkey King stared at his former adversary's open palm for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he inhaled deeply, having made a decision. A look of expectance was evident in the Macaque's eyes, but they were quickly extinguished when Wukong slapped his hand away.
"Enough with all this 'brother' nonsense. You have nothing but honeyed words to back up your claims. You might have tricked the world once, but you're illusions will never work on me,"
The Macaque sighed and retreated a few paces, "Very well. I offered you an olive branch, and you knocked it from my hand,"
Similarly to the Monkey King, the Macaque reached into his ear and pulled out his own magical staff, "I presume that there will be no excuses for what happens next,"
"Enough talk. Let's finish this," Wukong slipped into his fighting stance, "I have places to be,"
With that, the Monkey King dashed forward with impeccable speed. His trusty weapon was ready to strike.
The Macaque raised his staff to block.
Their first clash sent a thunderous shockwave through the sky, blasting away any cloud from here to the horizon.
It was as if explosions were set off every split second as they rapidly traded blows. Without any divine or demonic interference this time, the two primates were evenly matched in skill, power, and speed. It was as if their initial battle from five years prior had been put on hold and had resumed on this day.
It was a fight of pure martial arts, as any magic they used on each other was resisted and easily replicated.
Everywhere they fought became a scene of chaos.
The trees would splinter and uproot when they descended to fight in the forest. The dirt would fly high into the sky, and when mixed with the turbulence created by the twirling of the two monkeys' staff, it would develop cyclones of earth lashing in every direction. Craters decorated the ground like spots on a leopard. Animals, lesser demons, and benevolent spirits fled for their lives, and any human that witnessed the calamity they brought about prayed to their gods for mercy.
When they fought in the mountains, the topography was guaranteed to change significantly as mountains were eviscerated and thrown around in their wake. Every strike shook the very foundations of the world, and every step sent fissures through the ground, resembling webs made of cracked earth. Boulders and sharp stone fragments constantly rained from the sky as if they had replaced the raindrops in a thunderstorm.
Their clash over the oceans was so ferocious that it seemed as if they commanded the seas, forming towering tidal waves with peaks that could touch the sky. Hurricanes, water spouts, and whirlpools followed suit, all created simply by the velocity and force behind each of their actions.
Every time Wukong scored a direct hit, the Six-Eared Macaque would counter with a successful attack of his own.
Whenever Wukong spawned a set of clones, the Macaque would mirror him to the exact number.
If the Macaque expanded his staff to titan-sized proportions, so would the Monkey King.
It was indeed an unending cycle.
The sense of time became lost to them as neither had any idea how long they had been fighting.
However, to break up the rhythm and take a breather, Wukong kicked the Macaque to create some distance between them—ten miles, to be exact—but it was still too close for comfort.
The Macaque raced toward him without allowing him to rest, reaching him in half a second.
But Wukong saw this coming, and just as the Macaque's staff was about to make contact, the Monkey King shrunk himself to the size of a fly before diving down to the ground.
The Macaque snarled in annoyance and enlarged himself to the size of a mountain. He slammed his fist into the ground, hoping Wukong would get caught in his massive knuckles.
His attack was proven to be fruitless as Wukong avoided it entirely. The Monkey King diverged from his path and redirected himself up. Once he was well above the Macaque, Wukong transformed again into an ape triple in size to the Six-Eared Macaque's current form, casually reaching the upper atmosphere and blocking the sunlight with his imposing frame.
Wukong clasped his hands together, bringing them down in a devastating hammer fist.
He struck nothing but air as the Macaque copied his previous evasive technique by becoming miniscule.
The Macaque turned into a hawk as he zipped through the sky at Wukong's head.
In response, Wukong transformed into a great owl to counter the hawk and similarly charged.
Macaque acknowledged this choice and flipped the situation, transforming into an even larger eagle when they clashed.
Locked in midair combat, the monkeys in avian forms clawed and tore feathers from each other.
Before long, they plummeted into a river below.
It barely hindered them as their combat continued.
Wukong changed into a crocodile to gain the upper hand but was countered by the Macaque, who morphed into a shark.
The shapeshifting battle continued even when they were back on land. One turned into a wolf, only to be countered by the other turning into a leopard. Then, it was a classic brawl between a tiger and lion, followed by a bear and rhinoceros, before it became a duel between two elephants.
Finally, it resulted in both primates transforming into the famous serpentine forms of Eastern Dragons, one black and one white. Their battle cries sent chills down the spines of any living thing that heard it as they took their skirmish back to the skies.
All of a sudden, a skull-crushing headache shot through Wukong, dispelling the transformation and causing him to plummet wildly.
Digging his fingers into his head, a scream of agony escaped the Monkey King's lips.
Even the Six-Eared Macaque returned to normal and paused to see what was happening.
Then, the reason revealed itself.
The Binding Circlet had somehow found itself around Wukong's head once more. It flashed a golden glow as it tightened around the Monkey King.
Without warning, a ray of light tore through the Great Sage, sending him down in a fiery blaze akin to a meteor.
The Monkey King could do nothing but roar one last time before… impact.
…
…
…
MODERN ERA - JAPAN
"Excuse me!"
A boy with a box in his hands stood before a suburban house and knocked on the door.
"Delivery!" He called again.
His flame-colored eyes flicked around the doorframe, trying to see if there was a well-hidden doorbell that he had missed.
Just as he was about to knock again, he heard the hurrying of footsteps before the door swung open. It revealed a middle-aged man, a little breathless and wearing an apron with fresh food stains all over it.
"Hello there, sorry about that. I was washing my hands, so I didn't hear you call the first time," he explained.
"That's alright," the boy smiled politely and handed over the parcel along with a piece of parchment and pen, "Here you go, sir,"
"Thanks, kid,"
"And if you could sign right there… Alright, perfect," The boy then bowed, "Thank you for using our services; please rate us favorably and have a good evening,"
Spinning on his heels, he returned to the pathway where he had parked his electric scooter. The boy leaned on the small, lightweight vehicle as he scrolled through a list on his phone, checking his schedule for the day.
"Looks like I'm done," he said to himself and released a tired sigh while mounting the scooter, "Finally, I can go home," His eyes darted down at the helmet he picked up and the ride he was sitting on, "I gotta return these first, though,"
Without wasting any more time, he turned the scooter on before zooming down the streets.
The sunset bathed the city in a warm, ephemeral glow, and the sky was a detailed, delicate painting, blending together warm tones such as red and orange and cool tones like pink and blue. The pale moon had already begun to show itself as it took its place in the pastel sky.
Masses of citizens, from students to office workers and everything in between, were beginning or concluding their daily commute back to their abodes as seas of people flooded every winding path with chatter.
The sounds of cars, trains, and buses zooming through the rush hour filled the city roads and metros. At the same time, intense, pounding, high-energy music began seeping out the doors of the many nightclubs and bars, turning the smaller but trendier streets into a bustling hub of nightlife.
The boy expertly navigated through the busy streets and roads. With all the deliveries he had made in the past several months, a near-perfect map of the city was etched into his mind. He knew which route to take if the traffic was getting atrocious and even which route he should take if he didn't want to deal with any red lights throughout the whole trip.
Soon enough, after traveling across the city, he came to a screeching stop in front of a warehouse. Above was a sign that read, [ Icarus Delivery Service ].
The boy pulled the keys out of the scooter and detached the storage container from the tail of the bike. With his hands full, he slightly bent over, using his elbow to push the handle down before nudging the door open with his shoulder.
The interior was well-lit, but random cardboard boxes, both containing items and flattened, sprawled all across the floor.
At the counter, a man in glasses waved at him, "Welcome back, Satoru. You clocking out now?"
"Yeah," Satoru nodded, placing the company's container and scooter keys on the counter to the left of the man.
He looked around curiously as he removed his helmet, "Am I the last one back?"
The bespectacled owner looked at the screen behind the counter and shook his head, "Nah, the system says we have two more drivers on the other side of the city. But it looks like it'll be their last run of the night, though,"
The boy placed the helmet on top of the parcel box and ran a hand through his messy, jet-black hair. He snickered, "That's a relief. Then I don't need to do the packing up with you,"
"Yeah, yeah," the owner rolled his eyes but still chuckled at his comment.
Suddenly, the system beeped, catching both of their attention.
For a few seconds, there was only the sound of a clattering keyboard before the owner clicked his tongue, "Ah, shit,"
"What's up?" Satoru leaned over the marble counter, trying to catch a glimpse of what was on the computer screen.
"Looks like there was an express delivery we had to do today that completely slipped under our radar,"
"I can do it," the black-haired boy offered without hesitation.
"You sure? I was going to do it myself,"
"I don't mind. As long this counts as overtime pay,"
The owner shot him an incredulous look before heaving a relenting sigh, "That's on me; I should've expected this from you. Very well, then. Just get it done by tonight. You're free to go after,"
"Great," responded Satoru from the side of the store, already rummaging around the mountain of delivery parcels, "Which one is it?"
"The serial code is AB123MD,"
"What am I, a scanner? That doesn't help,"
"Then have you tried searching through the actual 'express' section and not messing up the wrong pile that I spent all afternoon sorting out?"
"Oh right, yeah," the amber-eyed boy quickly spun around and jogged to the opposite side of the room with a significantly smaller tower of boxes.
"AB…1…2… Aha! Found it,"
"Then you better get going,"
"I will. Bye~!"
With that, Satoru dashed out of the building with the parcel tucked under his arm.
The sky was dark by the time he left.
The moon rested comfortably high above the world, surrounded by shimmering stars.
In the distance, the lights of Tokyo's vast skyline glittered like a wall of tiny crystals in a cave, signaling that the city had officially entered its nocturnal phase.
As he ventured down the streets, Satoru gazed down at the address on the package.
"The National Art and History Museum," he murmured to himself.
It was a place he had passed countless times but had yet to enter and explore. He was not interested in the displays that the museum offered, but from the pictures he saw online, he figured that it would be a nice, relaxing place to kill some time if there was ever an opportunity.
Soon, the building presented itself. European architecture, three stories high, constructed from the highest quality of marble and sandstone, the art museum oozed off a feeling of class, and mere images of it would not do it justice since the real thing was much more splendorous than thousands of pixels crammed together.
Satoru whistled at its impressive size before bounding up the stairs to a set of towering, heavy wooden doors.
Seeing that the lights were still on through the windows, the boy assumed that the entrance would be unlocked. He was proven correct when, with a little effort, he pushed the door open.
The museum's interior was just as grand, if not more so, than its exterior. The sense of elegance doubled, accompanied by a new sensation: the thick aura of knowledge that expanded over several centuries permeating the halls.
"Hello?!" Satoru called, his voice bounding off the walls in an echo, "I've got an express package here from Icarus Delivery Service!"
For a while, no one replied to him. No staff or security. It would have been nothing but silence if it weren't for the ticking grandfather clock by the entrance.
"Is anyone there?" The black-haired teen tried again, only to be met with the same result.
'Should I just leave it on the reception desk with a note?' He wondered, scratching his head.
"Good evening,"
"Gah!" Satoru jumped at the sound of a new, unfamiliar voice.
He whipped around to see a tall, beautiful woman looking to be in her late twenties with chocolate-brown hair tied in a professional bun and donning a formal suit.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Ah, right, yes," Recovered from his shock, Satoru extended the parcel to her, "On behalf of the Icarus Delivery Service, I apologize for the late delivery despite it being an express order,"
The woman didn't say a word. Her piercing green eyes scrutinized every inch of the boy as she stood unnervingly still.
A strange chill ran down his spine, but he brushed it off as the air conditioning. Satoru pursed his lips and glanced around awkwardly; his hands remained outstretched with the box in hand.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the woman moved, nodding, "Fine. As the curator and on behalf of the museum, we accept your apology,"
"Thank you very much, ma'am," The boy replied.
The museum employee turned and, with a wave of her hand, gestured for him to follow her, "If you genuinely want to make up for your late arrival, then do me a small favor and come with me,"
"Um…sure? But may I ask where we're going?" Satoru asked, "Because I'm pretty sure there are, like, rules and regulations regarding an ordinary person like me wandering around this place after dark,"
"It's okay. We're just going down to the storage basement," explained the brunette, "The contents of what's inside that box belong there,"
Satoru raised a brow, "That still sounds…illegal? Are you sure?"
The curator sighed and raised her arm. She pulled her sleeve down, revealing a bandaged wrist, "I injured myself while moving some exhibits around earlier, so I can't go around lifting things. Just be a dear and help me out, will you? I'll even rate your business five stars, or I can give you a personal cash bonus if you want,"
"Oh, well, why didn't you say you were injured," A hearty grin stretched across the boy's lips, and he nodded, "Of course, I'll help,"
"Thank you. Now come, it's this way,"
They traversed across the museum, and Satoru's eyes, sparkling with wonder, never stopped wandering, taking in all the exhibits, from century-old paintings to statues sculpted in an ancient era. He was distracted to the point that there were a few times when he almost ran into a wall or some other costly display that would take several lifetimes to repay the debt if he had shattered it.
They arrived at an inconspicuous gray door in the corner of one of the many galleries. Then, they headed down several flights of winding stairs. Neither talked, so their footsteps echoed repeatedly down the dimly lit staircase.
At last, they reached the bottom. The brunette lifted her hand and slid it against the wall until she found the light switch.
For a moment, there was an electrical humming before the basement became illuminated by rows of bright, fluorescent lights running down from one end of the ceiling to the other.
Without another word, the brunette continued walking, her heels clicking with every step.
Satoru slowly trailed after her while gazing around at the new environment.
The basement was spacious, much more spacious than he had ever thought; it was almost akin to a cave and bizarrely empty.
He expected to see shelves holding various artifacts from cultures across the globe squashed together or multi-colored shipping containers jammed neatly against each other like a wall of Tetris blocks.
Instead, he only saw stone statues haphazardly scattered throughout the underground room, like pieces on a giant chessboard in the middle of a game.
Each one held peculiar poses, and their facial expressions were even more unusual.
Some looked downright terrified, with their eyes as wide as possible. Some of these horror-stricken statues had their arms covering their heads as if shielding themselves from something. Others' faces were twisted in surprise, their eyebrows raised, their jaws agape, and their bodies positioned as if startled by a sudden loud noise.
Another common posture was of them in the middle of running, with their heads coincidentally looking back over their shoulders.
The boy had to admit he found them weird and, honestly, a little creepy. They were all a bit too lifelike, but he didn't pay them any more attention. From what he knew, some artists specialized in specific styles, further driven by an ideal they firmly believed in. Perhaps these sets of fearful statues belonged to a famous sculptor in the past or the present, and the museum was storing them until they were allowed to display them to the public.
"What do you think of them?"
Upon hearing the woman's voice, Satoru snapped out of his stupor and lightly jogged up to her.
"They're…interesting," he told her honestly, "I'm not an artist myself, so I don't understand what they were trying to go for, but I respect it, at least,"
"That's a lovely outlook. Be sure never to lose it. The youth nowadays are too negative and susceptible to herd mentality. Easy to manipulate," The curator remarked before beckoning Satoru to continue following her, "Not much further now. Just over here,"
They reached their destination in only a few more steps. In the center of the storage basement was a metallic, rectangular table, its cold surface void of objects.
The woman stopped just before it and reached into her pocket to pull out a small plastic case. She raised a hand to her eyes, carefully pinching a thin layer of contact lenses out.
Satoru leaned to the side, his innate curiosity driving him to peek at what she was doing. It was then that he noticed something on the concrete floor.
Faint but dark, elongated scratches appeared close to the table's legs, indicating that the furniture had been dragged across the ground. Crimson specks and blotches seeped from underneath, resembling red paint that had been messily thrown around.
The boy glanced back at the museum curator again, his brows furrowing with suspicion, but decided not to say anything about it.
"Humans never change," the woman suddenly said, simultaneously snapping the lens's case shut with a loud clack.
Satoru instinctively took a step back.
There was a grating chill in her voice that wasn't present before.
"As gullible as always, especially the young ones," the woman's brown hair began quivering. Each strand started to twist, turn, and lash out in every direction as if they had minds of their own.
The boy took another step back, only to bump into something. He quickly looked back and saw it was one of the many lifelike stone sculptures. Even the most experienced sculptors could not replicate the absolute distress on its face by hand.
He followed the statue's terrified line of sight and was introduced to what it was so frightened of.
Violent, reptilian hissing invaded his ears. The museum curator's hair had fully transformed into a headful of green and brown snakes, each flicking their forked tongues and lunging at him as if he were their prey.
A menacing grin stretched across the woman's face as she stared at him hungrily with the slitted eyes of a cold-blooded creature.
"Young. Short. Slim," the snake-haired woman uttered as she sauntered toward Satoru, "Only a bit of muscle and bone to gnaw on but, more importantly, a cute face. It would be a shame to devour you so hurriedly. I would prefer to save you for more important occasions. Your flesh would be outright delectable when paired with good wine and company,"
The hairs on his neck stood straight, and his amber eyes widened. Satoru opened his mouth to try to make sense of things, but the words refused to come out. His heart palpitated as if he had just run across the country multiple times without stopping. Stricken with fear, Satoru tried to flee, but his trembling legs were rooted to the ground and refused to budge an inch.
"For now, I shall capture this adorable expression you've got," The woman smirked as her slitted eyes, along with the eyes of every snake on her head, glowed a vibrant, ice-blue, "Join the others and decorate my abode beautifully,"
In an instant, before he could even react, Satoru was turned into stone like all the other poor souls who had come before.
"Pff..Hehe….Hahahahaha! Ah~ This is too easy," The snake-haired woman cackled before retrieving the box from the petrified boy's hands.
She took a few steps away and dropped the box on the floor, nudging it with her foot several times, "Hey, come out. I've caught something nice,"
The package twitched then rumbled, energetically flipping itself repeatedly as it bounced in a circle.
Then it exploded, bursting open in a cloud of dust and shredded cardboard.
A guttural, thundering roar echoed through the basement, followed by a heavy thud.
It was a monster with a rotund, hulking body triple the size of an average human. It had two horns on its head, blood-red skin, and coarse, unruly dark hair. Yellow eyes gleamed as it licked its lips, brushing its tongue over upward-pointing fangs.
The Oni sniffed the air, looking around at the forest of statues before settling his gaze on the gorgon in front of him.
"Another morsel? Already?" He asked with a voice deep enough that it could cause a person's bones to tremble.
"This one here," the Gorgon, now having transformed back into her natural state with her lower half being that of a giant snake, slithered over to their most recent catch, "What do you think?"
"Scrawny," the Oni simply replied with a loud snort, "No meat on him. He will be a good toothpick after, but not even worth to be called a main course,"
"Is that so?" The Gorgon traced her fingers slowly over the frozen Satoru's features, "Then you won't mind if I have him all to myself. You should've seen him. So trusting and vulnerable to the simplest of lies. All I had to do was say that I was injured, and he came bounding over like a puppy,"
"Such a delicacy is rare nowadays," The Gorgon's long, thin tongue ran across the boy's petrified face, "You won't mind if I have him all to myself then?"
The Oni shook his head, "No. Human males of this age leave a foul taste in my mouth. I prefer something with more muscle or fat, and as you already know, preferably a female,"
"Then I shall leave this one for now and savor his blood on a day worth celebrating," the Gorgon looked over her shoulder, eyeing the Oni with a sultry gaze, "On our wedding day, perhaps,"
"Hah!" The Oni laughed and gently caressed the snake-haired woman's face, "A fine idea, my love. But I am famished, let us select today's meal,"
"Yes, let's," the Gorgon slid over to the red-skinned beast's side and looped her arm through his.
The pair toured around the basement, sifting through each of the imprisoned humans.
"How about this one, dear? He was a security guard from upstairs, a fresh recruit and eager to help. Young in age with such succulent-looking meat,"
"Yes, this one will do,"
"How about her? A university graduate studying the arts. Her passion and greed led her to this predicament, sneaking in here unannounced and discovering our abode. We should get rid of her sooner rather than later,"
"I am already thinking of ways to cook her. Spitroast, or maybe a stew,"
"Oh, this one has been sitting here for quite a while. A schoolgirl who ran away from home. Her horrified expression is far too delightful to even consider devouring her, so I kept her here as a beautiful stone flower. Perhaps you would like her instead,"
"Gyahaha! You sure know how to impress me, my love,"
"So, if you eat at this hour, does that count as dinner or a midnight snack?"
The two humanoid monsters whipped around, their faces painted with shock and confusion. Their eyes darted around the basement, searching for the source of the new, unknown voice until they settled on someone leisurely crouching on the metal table in the middle of the room.
Wearing a vivid, golden-yellow, black hoodie, similarly dark pants, and running shoes, Satoru ruffled his jet-black hair as tiny fragments of stone and rock dust fell out. He stared at the two monsters with fiery-orange eyes, and a mischievous smirk played on his lips.
"I-Impossible!" The Gorgon sputtered, "You're supposed to be—!"
"Stone?" Satoru interrupted, picking at his nails and completely unbothered, "Yeah, well… Guess what, you'll never believe this but I—"
"You didn't release his petrification prematurely, did you?" The Oni asked his betrothed, cutting the teenager off.
"This rude little…," the black-haired boy scowled.
"Of course not!" The Gorgon snapped, "He must have dispelled it somehow… Damn it! I should've checked if he had any supernatural abilities! I was careless!"
"Fear not, my love," The crimson-skinned Oni stepped forward, cracking his knuckles and shielding her, "I will tear him apart in no time and bathe you in his blood,"
Satoru stared at him blankly, "Charming,"
With an ear-shattering battle cry, the Oni charged. Each step was akin to the cracking of thunder as it got closer and closer.
Then it dove forward, attempting to tackle the boy.
Satoru effortlessly flipped over the Oni as the demon continued, crashing head-first into the wall on the far end and taking the metal table with him.
The boy watched the red-skinned beast scrambling around, trying to remove its head from the wall for a second before he became unamused and turned back toward the snake-haired woman.
"So, a Gorgon from Greece paired with an Oni from the country we're in right now. Talk about a cultural exchange, am I right?" snickered Satoru.
"Who the hell are you?!" the Gorgon snarled, backing up a bit.
"Who the hell am I? Well, ain't that the question," answered the teenager as he stretched his arms and cracked his neck, "I'm just glad I can drop that innocent, happy-go-lucky act. It's fun watching monsters like you fall for it, but it gets exhausting sometimes,"
"You didn't answer my question,"
"You're not in a position to ask,"
A single glare from the boy's glowing orange eyes was all it took for a primal shiver to run down the Gorgon's spine, extending to the tips of every nerve in her body. She already had cold blood, but it was as if they had frozen several times over. The Gorgon shivered as she tried getting away, but it was now her turn to become petrified. Each snake on her head hissed in mass panic as they stretched and contorted, desperately trying to flee.
The Gorgon had felt true, unadulterated fear for the first time in a long time.
Suddenly, there was a roar. The Oni had freed itself and dashed toward Satoru. It leaped into the air, winding up a fist for a devastating strike. The Gorgon, momentarily shackled by terror, brightened when she saw her partner back in action—with the speed at which the demon was going and seeing how the boy had his back turned. There was no way for the teenager to counterattack.
Satoru rolled his eyes and pointed over his shoulder.
[ Immobilize ]
The Oni abruptly froze midair as if trapped in a small bubble of time.
"Wait your turn," scolded Satoru.
"Just what do you want from us!?" the Gorgon exclaimed. "If it's money you want, then just take any of the displays in the gallery and get out!"
"What do I want from you?" the amber-eyed boy echoed before he sighed and pinched his nose bridge.
"You see, the thing is," he started, "The two of you could've been good demons or monsters or whatever terminology this generation goes by. You could've assimilated into human society and lived a nice, long, quiet life, unbothered by the constant waves of drama and near world-ending issues that happen in the supernatural world,"
"But instead, you chose to harm innocent people," continued Satoru, and he began pacing slowly around the room, "I'm guessing the two of you fled your original homes and found your way here. You discovered a nice den in the form of the museum's basement but couldn't get free access to it because of the museum's tight security. Thus, with some trickery and magic, you disposed of the original curators, took that position for yourself, and turned the entire building into your lair. Now, with this new power in your hands, the two of you employed all manner of small tactics to lure humans into this basement, and then you decide whether to eat them on the spot or store them for later by turning them into statues,"
"Y-You have no proof of that!"
"No proof?" The black-haired teenager scoffed and gestured with his thumb to the metal table lodged in the wall, "You butchered your victims on that thing since the smell of blood is nullified by the scent of that steel table as both contain iron. Then there's also the dried blood splashes on the concrete, which you left for too long and couldn't clean up, so you dragged that heavy ass table over to cover it… Am I wrong?"
Every one of his words rang true, and the Gorgon could do nothing but grit her teeth and click her tongue. Her face became twisted with annoyance and returning dread.
"Furthermore," Satoru stopped pacing and shoved a hand in his jacket pocket, leaving the other one out, "This whole 'turning into a pretty lady or handsome man to lure people' tactic, I'll admit, it's a classic. But it's been around since the dawn of time, and if you've lived as long as I have, then you're a fool if you can't recognize it on the spot,"
"...You're not human," The Gorgon concluded after a brief silence.
"Finally! Some progress, now you're catching on," the boy happily remarked before he exhaled and shook his head, "This new generation of demons, I swear. I've only been back in this world for seventeen years, and while the humans have greatly advanced, all of you guys have devolved,"
"But then again, you're all Lesser Demons, so I probably shouldn't have had any expectations in the first place," he continued to add before he shrugged, "Oh well,"
Satoru snapped his fingers, "Release,"
Control was returned to the Oni's body, and he fell to the ground with a loud and heavy thump.
"What…in all the hells…are you?" The red-skinned monster growled as he struggled to pick himself off the ground.
Satoru chuckled before breaking out into laughter, "Ahahahahaha~ Surely you jest. By now, is it not obvious who I am?"
The two monsters exchanged glances before shooting him a clueless look.
The boy's face fell at the sight of their reaction, "Are you serious?"
The two monsters wordlessly nodded.
Satoru released an exasperated scream and started pacing all over the basement again, only this time he was much faster than before, "Again, with this?! Another set of demons and monsters who don't know!? Have I really been gone that long?! No one remembers me, seriously?! After everything I've done! I used to be feared throughout the world! The most bloodthirsty Demon Kings and monsters would run with their tails between their legs at the mere sight or mention of me!"
He paused as a terrifying epiphany dawned on him, "Wait…Have I…Did I peak already? Is my era…over?"
The black-haired teen waved his hands wildly as if brushing all the thoughts away, "No, no, no, y'know what, let's not think about this stuff right now. I got more important things to do,"
Turning back to the monster couple huddled together, frightened by his sudden outburst, Satoru smirked and slowly stepped toward them, "Shall I give you a hint?"
A long, dark-furred, simian tail sneaked out behind him, swinging back and forth before settling down.
Then he reached up and pulled something thin and tiny from his ear. He raised it to his side, and without warning, it erupted into its true form in a blaze of golden light.
It was a staff created from an indestructible black iron with golden bands on each end—a simple yet elegant design.
Satoru lazily twirled the staff before resting it on his shoulders, and his smirk grew even wider, "Have you figured it out now?"
Trembling like a leaf, the Gorgon shook her head. She looked over at her partner to see if he had thought of something, but all she saw was that the color had completely drained from the Oni's face.
The red monster broke out in a cold sweat. His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened to the limit. His whole body shook, yet he was paralyzed, not by any spell or technique but by the sheer dread running through his system.
"T-T-That's impossible… I-It simply cannot be," The Oni stuttered, his voice a meek whisper, "It's…It's him,"
The Gorgon glanced up at the black-haired teenager and hissed at her partner, "What are you talking about?"
The Oni pivoted his head slightly in her direction but was still too frozen that he could not meet her gaze.
"It…It does not matter what kind of Yokai you are; as long as you reside in the Eastern side of the world, you would have no doubt heard of him. He is a being that every Yokai, regardless of your strength or hierarchy, is warned to never, ever challenge or anger,"
"That doesn't explain anything," the snake-haired woman harshly whispered.
"I…I…can't do it!" The Oni bellowed, unable to hold his nerve any longer; he scrambled across the floor on all fours and groveled before the staff-wielding boy's feet, "G-G-Great Sage! Please have mercy! Have mercy on me and my fiancee's insignificant lives. We are but lowly, lesser demons, banished from our respective clans and driven to wander the world in seek of a place to call home!"
The Gorgon slithered forward, her hands on her lover's shoulders as she tried to pull him back, "What are you doing?!"
"Bow your head if you know what's good for you!" The Oni barked in a panic and pulled her to her knees.
"F-Forgive her ignorance, Great Sage. She isn't from these lands and is unfamiliar with the customs here," the crimson-skinned beast continued to ramble, his forehead not once leaving the floor, "A-And forgive me for attacking you earlier! I, too, am guilty of ignorance as I could not recognize you, sir! Had I known it was you from the start, then I would have most certainly welcomed you with utmost warmth, preparing only the finest wines and dishes and a huge assortment of servants to tend to your every need!"
Seeing her partner's frantic and desperate state, the Gorgon finally caught onto the gravity of their situation, and she immediately bowed repeatedly in quick succession, nearly slamming her head into the solid, concrete floor a few times.
"Please, sir, have mercy!"
"Have mercy on us, Great Sage!"
The Sage watched as the two monsters begged for their lives; a minute passed before he slightly shook his head and scoffed, "Enough,"
The two monsters froze, though their bodies still trembled.
"Did you show mercy to the humans you brutally murdered?" he asked coldly.
Silence was the only response.
"I thought so," said the fiery-eyed boy, tapping his staff on his shoulder, "It doesn't matter how much you cry and beg. You have taken far too many innocent lives. Your actions have consequences, and today is the day you face them. If you wanted to live so much, then you should've sought a peaceful and virtuous life,"
"...P-P-Please, Great Sage,"
"I get it; both of you wanted to have a good life together, far from the scrutiny and complications of your respective clans. But this was not the way to go about it. The Karmic Debt you both built up in this life will most likely be carried to the next. If the Wheel of Reincarnation is kind and decides to keep the two of you together, then perhaps you'll come back as a pair of moths fluttering around a streetlight,"
"Please, sir! Have mercy!"
"Great Sage, I beg of you! Just give us a chance to redeem ourselves, and then we will banish ourselves to a far-off land void of human life and never show our faces again!"
"No," The Sage's words were firm and as cold as a midnight winter, "I have made my decision. If you truly want redemption, then make sure to be as righteous as possible in the next life,"
"No, no, no, no, no!"
"Please! Spare us! We'll do anything! Anything!"
The Monkey King ignored their pleas and readied his signature gold-banded, iron staff.
"Once you've descended to the Ten Courts of Hell. Remember to tell everyone about the one behind your ultimate departure—me! The Great Sage Equal to Heaven!"
[ SUN WUKONG ]
孙
悟
空
INSPIRED BY [ BLACK MYTH: WUKONG ] AND [ JOURNEY TO THE WEST ].
孙悟空 - Sun Wukong
The infamous Monkey King. Born from stone on the peak of Huaguo Mountain, and according to Buddha, one of the Four Celestial Primates—beings that are not classified in the ten categories of life, nor are they contained in the names between the Divine and Mortal Realms.
Most known for the 'Havoc in Heaven' incident and for accompanying the Tang Monk on the Journey to the West.
At the end of the Journey, Wukong rejected the Buddha's offer to reach enlightenment and instead opted for a peaceful eternity back home at Huaguo Mountain. On his way back, he was intercepted by his former rival and fellow Celestial Primate, the Six-Eared Macaque. History replayed itself as the two monkeys battled each other. During combat, the Binding Circlet resealed itself around Wukong's head, and a sudden fierce ray of light pierced through the Heavens and struck Wukong, causing him to plummet to his apparent demise.
His disappearance was unknown to the world, and the world moved on… Centuries and millennia passed, civilizations rose and fell like the sea's ebb and flow, until finally, in this new era…
Thousands of years later, the Monkey King has returned.
悟 - Satoru
A seventeen-year-old boy with short, messy black hair and flame-colored eyes. He commonly wears a black-and-gold zip-up hoodie, dark track pants, and black-and-white running shoes. He currently lives in Tokyo and works as a delivery driver for [ Icarus Delivery Service ].
He is an honest and positive person, willing to help others when they need it.
…At least, that is what the world believes.
In truth, Satoru is the human form of Sun Wukong. When the Monkey King awoke seventeen years ago as a child, he found himself trapped in his human transformation, with only his tail as a reminder of his true appearance.
Using 'Satoru' as an alias and the form as a disguise, Wukong embarks on a personal journey to track down and uncover the 'Truth' and 'Storm' the Six-Eared Macaque told him all those centuries ago.