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Great Sage, Equal to Heaven and Above Brockton by Darkscythe Drake

Journey to the West & Worm Xover Rated: T, English, Adventure & Drama, Sun Wukong, Skitter, Vista, Words: 229k+, Favs: 901, Follows: 1k+, Published: Sep 9, 2024 Updated: Feb 10

362Chapter 1: Sotāpanna 1-01

Hi guys! To those of you who know me, good to see you! To those who don't, welcome! To my first foray into Worm!

I own nothing here except the OCs, read, review, moo, yodelayheehoo, constructive criticism is welcome!

Thanks to MentalForge and old man of the mountain for beatreading!

Come now, you surely must have heard of him.

Most know that he guarded the great monk, alongside his fellow disciples, to retrieve the sacred scrolls. For his actions, he was granted Buddhahood, and vanished into the mists of China. Others say that along the path, the imposter slew him and took his place, with none but the Buddha the wiser. Many say, that no such journey existed - a fable created for children and peasants by some lonely old monk.

Whatever the case, the story has long since ended. The monk ascended to the heavens, the disciples retreated to the earth, and the land itself forever changed by time.

Yet…

…could it be, that the tale didn't end when the story should have?

All it took, as it had those millennia past…was a single stone.

Peizhi Luo brushed off the last traces of dust on the counter and wiped his forehead. A day's worth of almost nonstop labor, now bore fruit. The store was clean, free of rubble, and ready for customers.

The man slumped and sighed, his elbows pressed on the counter. Who was he kidding? For the next few days, he would have to use the food stamps until the heat died down - literally. Last he looked outside, he could still see the fires. But that's the life he got for working in Brockton Bay's Asian district. No guarantees except for constant checks for 'protection payment'. He still needed to check if he had enough left after the repairs.

'At least they don't demand too much. I could've ended up like Gao and his jewelry store. They'll shake extra from him, even if his store got trashed.'

Peizhi looked around the shop and sighed, scratching his greying stubble. It wasn't like there was anything here worth extorting; he hardly imagined Chinese kitsch, children's toys and knick-knacks to be an attractive prospect for gang members, even for the more bizarre members of the ABB. Most people who came here did so on the Chinese New Year when he had banners, lanterns and other holiday memorabilia to sell. Most days he was lucky to sell more than a handful of lucky cat statues and some 'authentic' scrolls for teenagers to hang on their walls.

"It's not like I can move anywhere else," Peizhi mumbled. Since his father left him the store a few years back, it was his only source of income. The only other way he saw getting cash was by actively joining the gang, but he had enough principles to resist that urge.

'At least I'm not like those poor folk fresh off the boats and trains. If my father hadn't moved here years earlier to provide for us, I would've been easy picking for them.'

He lightly slapped himself to banish those dark thoughts. 'No good thinking about it too much,' he thought, heading to the storage room, 'just get through it one day at a time.'

Peizhi opened the door, flicked the sole lightbulb on, and groaned at the stack of boxes in front of him. He still hadn't unpacked the new toys! He always kept fresh batches of Alexandria figures and merch, despite not fitting at all with the store's look. But they were among the few things that routinely sold, so he shrugged whenever people asked. Not to mention the dragon banners and kites; even the gang members took a shine to them and sometimes - rarely - they'd take one instead of completely squeezing him. With that, the thirty-ish man rubbed his hands together and began moving the boxes out of the room. He reached the last box - a wooden one, unlike the cardboard ones before it - and picked it up only to stumble at its weight.

"Shénme guǐ?" he muttered, groaning as he carried the box out of the room, careful to avoid toppling the shelves. With a mighty heave, he threw the box on the counter with a loud thump.

He took a moment to catch his breath as he stared at the innocuous-looking package. 'I don't remember ordering anything this heavy,' he thought as he ran his hands over it and the red stickers slapped onto its surface, 'or fragile. Did the shipping company give me the wrong order?' He saw a sticker with his address printed on it, though it was addressed to his father. 'Maybe it's an order Dad placed that got lost in the mail and they remembered to send it.'

The excuse sounded flimsy in his head. His father, Ruzhong Luo, thankfully made sure to tie up every loose end possible before relinquishing Peizhi his store. He'd established a quiet yet firm rapport among other small business owners of Brockton, going so far as calling himself 'Rudy'. It was slow going at first - the Yangban and their parahuman army created enough horror stories about spies who subverted businesses or used them as fronts for espionage, especially in a port city like Brockton. Fortunately, Ruzhong was hard to dislike, always willing to lend an ear or advice, and the respect he gained was well-earned. His store wasn't the most successful, but it was his, and over and over Peizhi heard it on his father's knee and at his side.

"When you build something on your own, its value is worth more than the greatest of treasures."

Which was ironic, considering Peizhi's position now. How he had been able to juggle managing the store and taking care of his dying father for a year, Peizhi couldn't remember, but his father died content, with his son at his bedside.

Momentarily lost in memories, Peizhi shook his head. Come to think of it, the company that supplied him his wares liked sneaking in odd things as a surprise. Why they did that, he had no clue, but it felt nice. Not to mention they were one of the few shipping companies that still sailed out of China after Leviathan's debut. He was pretty sure they weren't supposed to do that, but he never registered a complaint.

'There's no sender's name. Where did this come from?' he read the address on the label. 'Lianyungang, Jiangsu?' His eyes widened as the address sunk in. That was Northeast China! 'I knew Dad occasionally got some odd knick-knacks from Taipei, but all the way from Jiangsu? There is no way the CUI would let that fly. The Yangban don't even allow bamboo stalks to be exported with permission.'

Peizhi examined the crate for a minute or two before deciding to bite the bullet. He grabbed a crowbar from the storage and pried the lid open. It took a couple of tries, but he soon peered inside and saw…

"...a rock?"

The shopkeeper blinked in confoundment at the object. A simple rock, shaped like a jagged oval, bigger than his head. No marks of any kind.

…he threw his hands up in the air and bit back a curse. Sure. A rock. Why not.

Why the hell would anyone send a rock!?

"Okay, I am not dealing with this shit today." He grabbed the rock and lifted it from the counter. Strangely…the rock was warm. Were rocks supposed to be warm? Eh, it didn't matter. He went outside and placed the stone right next to the front door. 'At least it'll look nice outside. A little of that zen garden vibe tourists like.' If there were any.

He looked around and took a quick breath. Night had fallen and the streetlamps had come on. He could see some lights from the neighboring windows, but no one was out. The haze of the distant fires, courtesy of the latest in ABB escapades, had started to dim. What poor business had suffered their wrath now? Or maybe it was some starving family, who no longer see their sons and daughters, each confined to new and terrible fates. Rumors fly loose in bars, and the stray sobs of mothers and fathers through opened windows were unfortunate but frequent sounds. "I think I'll open up late," he mumbled, turning around. "Don't feel like I'll be getting more customers tomorrow."

He closed the door and made his way up the stairs to his modest apartment. As he heated a pot of tea, his brows furrowed at the thought of that stone. He hadn't upset anyone, to his recollection. He'd kept his head down, kept his store nice and tidy, and paid the 'tribute' whenever asked - despite the bubbling resentment at the punks who strutted about his store, threatening to break what little he had. The only thing he could remotely think of was that joke he made about Gao - and that man laughed at even worse ones to his face, even from ABB goons demanding their cut. Why would someone send him a stone of all things?

In the end, he shrugged and went to bed. Not that it mattered in the end. A stone was a stone.

The moon rose and enveloped the bleak city in silver. Gangsters started to prowl, civilians hid in their homes, and the darkest corners of Brockton slowly stirred.

A veil of light bathed the stone outside the trinket shop. Silence reigned in that lonely street as the rock sat, unmoving. After all, it was nothing but a rock.

But as hours passed, and the first motes of sunlight pierced through the clouds and touched the stone's smooth surface…

…there was a crack.

Just before lunch, there was an update from Console. Annoying, but that was in the job description.

Armsmaster dismounted his motorcycle and headed to the cluster of squad cars. Police had already cordoned the area off and he spotted some uniforms escorting gangsters away into vans. The police captain turned to him and didn't bother hiding his frown.

"What's the situation?" the hero asked.

The captain grumbled as he pointed to the broken remains of the grocery store. "Some ABB punks decided to shake down the folks here for cash. Someone called 911 and when we got here, they were all…" he waved his hand at a body lying on the floor. "Like that."

Armsmaster frowned as his helmet gave him a diagnostic on the fallen gangster. They looked to be in their late teens to twenties, as were most of the younger members of the gang. Heavy bruising all over, broken bones, even a broken leg. Alive, but beaten within an inch of his life.

"The owners?"

"Still inside. Shaken up, but otherwise fine."

He turned to the captain and stared into his eyes through the visor. "Anything else?"

The officer bristled at his words. He had no time to waste on petty rivalries, and they were the ones who called for PRT help. He just happened to be patrolling nearby so he was the first to arrive.

"They're in their fifties and the husband didn't have time to pull out his shotgun."

Ah, so that's why. He had already suspected, but best to eliminate any doubt. The armored hero gave the officer a curt nod and entered the store. The place was trashed; produce was scattered all over the floor, fridges were smashed and shelves lay toppled. Looking up, he saw that some of the lights had been smashed in. Sitting next to the register were the owners, huddled together under a blanket as the husband rubbed the wife's shoulders.

The hero cleared his throat and approached them. The couple looked up and tensed, making him settle his frown into a more neutral expression.

"I'm Armsmaster of the Brockton Bay Protectorate. I've been told the men outside tried to rob you. Could you give me an account of what happened?"

The wife sent a worried look to her husband, who went silent for a moment. Then, the husband spoke.

"We were goin' about our day when those punks came in. Said we were on ABB turf, so we had to pay so no one would 'hurt our pretty little white-ass store'." He scoffed. "We've been here for years and no one bothered us. We made sure to keep away from the gangs. I told 'em where they could shove their threats and one of them started smashing the store. I tried to get my shotgun from under that counter, but they drew their guns and threatened to kill us if we stopped them trashing our store." His voice dripped with vitriol at the absurdity of the statement, all the while Armsmaster kept his silence.

"They almost finished breakin' everything here when…" the husband's face scrunched up, hesitating. "Something crashed through the window and sent one of them flying."

"Did you see anything in particular?"

The husband shook his head. "It moved too fast, like a big black lightning bolt. The other gangsters tried to get a jump on it, but I just ducked down and held my wife so we wouldn't get caught. When we got up, it was all over. Those punks were down for the count, and whatever that thing was, was long gone. The cops showed up soon after and…here we are."

The hero scratched his chin and hummed. Didn't sound like any of the Wards, and there were no reports of vigilantes or Independents around here. But whatever that took the ABBs out, it was a cape, no doubt about it.

Eventually, he nodded. "Thank you for your time. If we have further questions, we'll contact you."

He left the store and headed to the prisoner truck, where the last of the conscious gangsters was loaded up. The uniforms that saw his arrival stepped back, not wanting to get in his way.

"You. What attacked you?"

The gangster gave him a wary look before he slowly replied. "We was just gonna scare the guy…then the others get whacked around like ragdolls. I shot the guy but he kept jumping all over the place. Fuckin' balled up my gun like paper."

'Brute rating, possible Mover,' he thought. "Any mask? Costume?"

Armsmaster saw the youth biting his lip and his eyes twitching. 'Confused. Unable to properly summarize what has happened,' his helmet relayed to him.

"..."

"Speak up. Don't hesitate. What did they look like?" He then changed to a softer tone. "Your cooperation will be noted during your sentencing."

The gangster finally relented, exhaling sharply. "Fine," he spat. "But don't say I didn't warn you. And I swear up and down, I know what I saw. It was a…"

"..."

Armsmaster blinked. For a moment he thought his helmet's audio sensors were fried.

Because there was no way he heard what he just heard.

"...what?"

"For your sake, leave out nothing when you speak to him."

The junior thug nodded as he tried to ignore his shaking legs. To think that when he first joined, he wanted to be here, to be acknowledged and seen by the top of the ABB…

It had to be the crack he was on at the time, what was he thinking!?

The door opened and he was pushed into the room. Scrolls and paintings from all over Asia, all in perfect condition, lined the walls. The floor was built like an old Japanese home, covered with tatami mats, dirty and bloodstained. Combined with the red lights, the room felt more like a gateway to hell. Considering who was sitting seiza before him though, it was fitting.

The dragon himself, flanked by his loyal demon.

He knelt and bowed before the absolute ruler of the ABB. To do anything less was to invite an early end.

"Speak."

He wet his lips. "With the new turf we took from the Merchants, some of the boys said to us all the shops were up for grabs. Kanada-san took us and-"

"I know how you got there," growled the dragon. "I know all in my territory. If Kanada wasn't in the PRT's hands, I would have torched him myself. What I want you to tell me is who dared attack my turf!?"

His roar made the thug quake as he prayed to whoever was listening that Lung had a modicum of patience. "It-it happened so fast…one moment we were doing business as usual and showing those white trash their place, then suddenly -" he smacked his fist and palm together. "It thrashed the place with us. Started throwing everything in the store and even one of the others at us like fucking darts. Another junior shot it, but I think he missed or the bullet didn't hit, and just balled up the gun and threw it away."

"Hmm…and this wasn't one of the Wards?"

He shook his head. "Don't think so. Didn't look like any of them, and there wasn't a big TV announcement for a new one. But it was definitely a 'he'. No bitch is that hairy. I got away while it used Kanada like a baseball bat, and then I heard the cops coming, so I came here."

The room was devoid of any sound but the tapping of the leader's fingers. Every tap seemed to still his heart, as though they were the ticking of a clock signaling his fate.

"...describe him to me. Every last detail. We must know who it was that attacked one of our own and pay retribution in full. Only then will this newcomer learn not to cross the dragon."

The thug took a deep breath and began recalling every detail he could. He knew his life hung in the balance…but with every word, he felt his chances drop ever lower. Because even in a world of capes and supermen, the description he gave sounded utterly insane.

"And I swear by every whore in the ABB that what I said was the truth!"

The rice cooker chimed and Peizhi gently opened it, inhaling the scent and letting it fill his body with warmth. That machine had proven worthy of every cent for the last year, and the bowl of rice never failed to cheer him up. Business was slow, as he predicted, so he woke late. Not even the brand-new rock could attract people to his shop.

Peizhi rolled his eyes at the thought. Was he truly that desperate, to rely on a rock? No matter, right now, his food was the priority.

Piling on two spoonfuls of rice with the heated stir-fried beef with veggies - a skill he had to master in his apartment's meager kitchen - on his plate, he allowed himself to relax. Putting the steaming wok to the side, he placed his meal on the table and pried open the wooden chopsticks.

'Here's to another day.'

The rice was nice and soft, the beef was cooked just right, and the peppers, onion and carrots were slathered in the rich sauce. A family secret, to the envy of his few friends.

"I say, this is quite the meal you made, kind merchant!"

Peizhi nodded at the compliment. "Thank you. I made sure the rice was fresh and I-"

He froze, the chopsticks still in his mouth.

When did someone come in?

He slowly turned his head to the sound of chewing, his very body protesting against the action that could lead to pain…or death. And in Brockton Bay, there was a contest on which was worse. The fact that this intruder spoke perfect Mandarin somehow made it worse.

At the sight of the intruder, however, the fear morphed into shock and total befuddlement.

It was seated cross-legged on the windowsill, garbed in a set of blue-and-brown baggy pants and a robe-like shirt, leaving its chest bare save for the belt around its waist. The clothes looked like something out of a period drama his family used to watch. But what really made him drop his food was the furry tail hanging out his pants and the bulbous mouth and chin, crowned with a mane of reddish-gray hair, scarfing down a bowl of his food.

A few seconds passed, with the stranger finishing the last pieces of food before reaching for the wok and eating everything there in one quick gulp, uncaring of the heat. He wiped his face with Peizhi's sole towel and met his terrified eyes.

The stranger flashed a toothed grin at the stupefied man. "That was quite enjoyable! So many years of meditation, and I awake to this! Tell me, do you know anything about this fabulous city? I took a walk earlier and there was so much to see! Mortals have learned much from the heavens to create such machines! And the people were so kind, though some of them kept trying to hit me. How rude, no courtesy at all, not even a declaration!."

As it rambled on, Peizhi Luo begged his ancestors, Scion, or whoever was listening that the neighbors did not hear the chattering from his window.

Because the last thing he wanted to do today was explain to the gangs and the police just what was a goddamned talking monkey doing in his room!?

Tada! Eh, what do you think?

Black Myth Wukong is my favorite upcoming game. I am a sucker for lore and I've read Journey to the West. Might have to read it again to refresh myself. Then, after watching the new trailer and Netflix's Monkey King, I thought: I've read a lot of fics where Worm's crapsack world receives a 'wtf' to the face, and what better character to try it with than of the OG 'wtf' characters ever put to pen or brush, the Monkey King himself!

The monkey here is wearing the outfit from Black Myth, if you were wondering. Also, anyone knowledgeable about Chinese folklore, customs and language (especially!) is welcome to chime in suggestions and corrections.

I'm a member of the Shiro's Gaming Omniverse Discord (discord . gg/wd3tUYWVCd.) server and the Emerald Library (discord . gg/elibrary). If you want to hop over and chat, either about this story or anything else, feel free! I also have my own server Drake's Lair, at (discord . gg/2bD4UgyyPA).

If you enjoyed this story, check out my other ones and look at my profile for challenges!

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Great Sage, Equal to Heaven and Above Brockton by Darkscythe Drake

Journey to the West & Worm Xover Rated: T, English, Adventure & Drama, Sun Wukong, Skitter, Vista, Words: 229k+, Favs: 902, Follows: 1k+, Published: Sep 9, 2024 Updated: Feb 10

363Chapter 2: Sotāpanna 1-02

YES, IT IS I!

I own nothing here except the OCs, read, review, moo, yodelayheehoo, constructive criticism is welcome!

Thanks to MentalForge, storybookknight, NullenVoid, QA151 (both great Worm crossover writers) and old man of the mountain for helping me with this chapter! You guys are the best!

"Beyond the ocean, there was a country named Aolai. It was near a great ocean, in the midst of which was located the famous Flower-Fruit Mountain…there was on top of that very mountain an immortal stone that measured twenty-four feet in circumference…Since creation, it had been nourished by seeds of heaven and earth, by the essences of the sun and moon…One day, it split open, giving birth to a stone monkey endowed with fully developed features and limbs. Having at once learned to run and climb, the monkey bowed to the four cardinal winds, while two beams of golden light flashed from his eyes to reach the Palace of the Polestar."

-Journey to the West, Chapter 1

Peizhi idly wondered if there was something wrong with his sauce. It was a much better thought that he was imagining this whole thing. Unfortunately, thanks to a discrete pinch to his thigh, he was very much awake, and thus stuck as he watched the…intruder…munch on the stir-fried beef. Peizhi had put down his own bowl, which was getting colder by the minute, kept his arms low, and didn't take his eyes off the intruder for a second.

Only occasionally did his eyes flicker to the swishing tail, if only to confirm that yes, a talking monkey had barged into his home from seemingly nowhere and was eating his food.

As the monkey kept serving himself from the wok, Peizhi took in his features more closely, if only to abate the panic threatening to burst his heart. He had seen monkeys of various species on the internet and in books of course, even a couple in the old Brockton Zoo before Squealer tore through it during a high-speed chase. This one resembled none of them, with a narrow, tapered chin framed and covered by the mane of dark fur. His nose was thin and pressed, with the front of the face slightly bulging out, seeming more like a short snout. It seemed as though it was trying to imitate a human face, only to fall short. The hands were larger than his own, judging by how he grasped the bowl, and the claws did not seem decorative in the slightest.

Finally, the monkey put down the bowl and licked his chops. "Ah, a warm meal and steaming white rice! How long has it been since I ate you?" He turned to Peizhi with a fanged smile and bowed. "Once again, I offer my thanks to you, honored merchant. Surely, your ancestors smile upon you for creating such a fine dish!"

"Um…thank you?" And the way he spoke, despite the raspy voice…it was perfect Mandarin, no doubt about it, but it sounded…old. Formal, even. He'd heard a few elderly Chinese in the neighborhood speak similarly. "I…didn't hear you come in."

"Hmm? Ah, forgive my rudeness; your cooking so enchanted me, I forgot to announce myself," he flashed Peizhi a toothy smile. "But when I woke up, there was so much to see! Everything's different! Tell me, which province are we in?"

Peizhi blinked, his confusion ever-growing. "Province?"

"Ah, so the mortals have a new emperor now? He must refer to this place as his kingdom then. Then you may tell me the name of this kingdom, honored merchant."

There had to be a limit to how confused a man could get in a day - scratch that, an hour - because Peizhi kept blinking at the monkey. "This kingdom…? Uh…the United States of America?"

The monkey tilted his head. "Měiguó? Hmm…I cannot say I've heard of it. The emperor must be of a humbler sort, not to address his kingdom by his name. Which corner of the Middle Kingdom does it border?"

Peizhi couldn't stop his jaw from dropping; he didn't know what the USA was? That was…unheard of! Even the poorest of immigrants knew what America was! And why did he think it bordered China!?

"Uh…it doesn't." The monkey blinked and Peizhi continued, if only to prevent the awkwardness from returning. "We are not anywhere near China at all."

The monkey stopped his eating and his eyes briefly widened. A scratchy hum emanated from his mouth as brushed his chin. "A foreign land…well, that explains the strange buildings and odd-looking people. The ones behind masks - they were of a familiar kind, but the souls they had accosted; such round eyes and long noses! I would have laughed and thought them unfortunate guai were it not for their scent!" He giggled and clutched his stomach, teetering like a ball.

"Ah, but I dither. If we are not in the Middle Kingdom, then where is this Měiguó?"

Peizhi bit his lip as he struggled to provide an answer. This situation was getting beyond his control, and he needed a way to manage it. "I…I have a map downstairs. If you'll let me go and fetch it-"

"A map? Oh, joy! Yes, that would be most helpful."

The shopkeeper nodded, rose from his seat and slowly headed to the door. As he stepped out of the room, he saw the monkey from the corner of his eyes give him another toothed smile even as he kept looking around the modest room.

When Peizhi finally climbed down the stairs, he slumped against the wall with a strained squeak.

'What the fuck!?'

This was too much! Too much! A clothed, talking monkey was in his room!

Why? Is this karma for overpricing those Alexandria figurines? That unpaid drink at the bar? How was this happening, why was this happening, and why him!?

He took deep breaths, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. No, he couldn't afford to freak out here, there's no telling what the monkey would do. Should he call the cops? That was the logical thing to do…but a thought stopped Peizhi before he decided to proceed. What was he going to tell them? That a talking monkey had broken into his house and was eating his food? Best case, they'd laugh him off the line. Worst case - they'd call in the PRT.

'Yes…I'm thinking about this too much. That can't be a real monkey. It has to be one of those…how were they called again…Case 53's? Capes who turned into monsters and lost their memories? That's gotta be it. But now I know for sure the cops are off the table.'

If the monkey really was a cape, the PRT would come rolling in and the monkey didn't seem like one who would go quietly with the authorities. No, there would be a fight, and then more capes would show up, as would the ABB…maybe even Lung.

Out of the question. He didn't have a death wish, whether by collateral damage or by a more personal visit from the upper ranks of the ABB. So for now, he would have to obey his intrusive guest.

A few minutes of digging around later, Peizhi returned to the room with a rolled-up map under his arm. The monkey smiled at him and eyed the map with excitement as Peizhi unrolled it and placed it on the table.

"That is China," Peizhi said as he pointed at the country. He then dragged his finger over to Brockton's spot on the map. "And this is the United States."

Now it was the monkey's turn to pause. For the next minute or two, his eyes roamed the map and his grin faded into a more contemplative look. Peizhi saw the monkey's lips move wordlessly, as though he was saying the names - printed in Chinese - on the map to himself.

The gray-furred intruder sighed and a scratchy sound emanated from between his teeth. "I see…I must have been in meditation for quite a while, for me to not recognize these lands." He threw his head back and laughed. "Hah! If only Master could see me now! After all of our journeys, to be so lost!"

He looked back down at the map. "But from the sights out there, perhaps the Buddha has blessed me in secret. Not that anyone in the Court would, those crotchety fools…to think the Middle Kingdom, the so-called center of the world, was so small…"

As the monkey kept chattering, an odd feeling tingled in the back of Peizhi's head. The monkey's rambling struck a chord in him, like an echo from a hazy dream, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

"Merchant!" Peizhi snapped from his idle thoughts and looked at the monkey, who was staring right at him. "The spot on the map you pointed to, is this perchance this city?"

"Y-yes, this is Brockton Bay."

"Bù luó kè dùn wān…" the monkey repeated. "Another odd name. I foresee this will be recurring. Oh well! Such is dharma!" he finished with a chipper note.

While Peizhi reeled from the mental whiplash and the steam coming from his ears, a breeze flew into the window and caressed his cheeks. The monkey turned to the window and took a deep breath, a content smile on his face. His tiny nose wrinkled and the hint of grimace seemed to start on his face before it vanished.

He turned to Peizhi again and moved to speak before his eyes suddenly widened, as thought struck. He then suddenly shot up, startling the poor man before lightly bowing. "Good merchant! I seem to not know your name! Forgive my rudeness, but you have been a good host to me and I should like to know it!"

Peizhi swallowed, ignoring the sweat trickling down his nose. "It's Peizhi. Luo Peizhi," he replied, using the eastern order of naming.

The monkey nodded, as though pleased. "A good name, Peizhi-xiansheng. And since you have been kind enough to give me your name, I shall give you my own."

He gave a flourished bow and straightened himself, his hands clasped together. "My titles are many, earned by deeds mighty and throughout lifetimes. Once I was crowned as the Victorious Fighting Buddha by Sakyamuni himself before I returned to my mountain. My Buddhist name is Sun, and the name given to me by my old teacher is Wukong. I am the Handsome Monkey King of Flower-Fruit Mountain, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Peizhi-xiansheng."

…

A thick silence enveloped them. The monkey stood tall and smiling, while the shopkeeper's jaw threatened to fall from his skull, as his eyes were in danger of popping out of it. If one could glance into Peizhi's mind, one would see the gears grind to a halt.

"Sun…Wukong?" Peizhi asked, his voice small and on the verge of squeaking. "You are…your name is Sun Wukong?"

"That it is. Ah! Are you familiar with my name?"

Peizhi chuckled nervously. "I've…heard of it before…"

Of course, he'd heard of Sun Wukong before! What Asian kid hasn't? The Immortal Monkey King!? From Journey to the West? His father had read the story to him countless times as a child. Half the kids wore a monkey mask with two feathers at the neighborhood's Halloween parties! And this monkey was claiming to be Sun Wukong!?

Absurd. He had to be an amnesiac cape.

The monkey - the self-proclaimed Wukong - snorted as he sported an amused smile. "I know I am amazing, such a reaction is understandable." He turned to the window and hummed. "While I would love to stay and converse with you, I wish to see more of this fabulous city, especially now that the sun is out and my appetite is sated."

Before Peizhi could respond, Wukong leapt through the window and down into the street. Startled by the sudden action, Peizhi dashed to the window only to see the monkey idly looking up and down the street with nary a care. Miraculously, there was no one around to gawk at the robed primate or him. Finally, a small miracle.

Wukong turned and waved at Peizhi from the street. "I hope to see you again, Peizhi-xiansheng! May karma grant you a blissful future!" And with those words, he bent his knees…

…and somersaulted into the air.

…

…Peizhi slumped into the open windowsill and groaned, his vision swimming. A monkey just jumped into the air like a flea. The probably-cape monkey who, after eating his food, claimed to be Sun Wukong. A million and one thoughts chaotically bounced around in poor Peizhi's head, but only one penetrated the fog:

'I think I won't open today…maybe I'll just stay and read. Or get shitfaced drunk. Or both.'

'Hmm…were my words offensive to Peizhi-xiansheng? He looked rather put out when he spoke,' Sun Wukong, the seven-fold immortal thought and chuckled. 'Ah, but many have been rendered speechless by my presence. Not that I blame them; mortals get excited over the slightest of things, let alone me.'

He turned his gaze onto the skyline, enshrouded by morning fog. 'What strange buildings these are. Tall as pagodas, made with firm stone that doesn't crumble, with peculiar metal objects sticking out like tree branches. Not a single hint of wood, nor a single tiled roof.' He rubbed his hand over the surface of the roof he was on, the stone's rough texture scraping over his palm. 'Unlike any stone I have seen before, very durable. Yet rather…ugly. A home with such strong stone should be suitably dressed!'

He took a deep breath and grimaced as the scent of ash and grime entered his nostrils. 'Gah! I feel like I am back at the base of the Flaming Mountains! Not as strong, but the air is stuffed with soot and gunk! Have these mortals had their senses so dulled they cannot smell it?'

'Not to mention the blood…if the scent was any thicker, it would rain from the clouds back as liquid.' He hopped off the building and tumbled downwards. After landing, a cursory glance around him revealed he was in an alley, with strange murals painted on the walls and faded bloodstains, echoes not of battle, but matters of a more sinister nature.

'No glory or honor was earned here…nothing but sin and baser instinct.' He headed out of the alley and into the new street. A road crossed his path, emerging from the dense cluster of stone buildings to his left. Further to his right, the pavement morphed into a path of wooden planks as faint curtains of fog obscured an overlooking beach. He could see more of these strange mortals walking by, their bodies hunched and eyes round as plates.

'Men of the western lands bore similar features, but their skin was like bronze or ochre. Peizhi-xiansheng and his kin are of my lands, I would bet my hair on it. Hah, if only that pig could see me now, strutting around like a clueless maid!'

He observed the horizon for several moments, and felt his thoughts grow pensive. "How long has it been…" he muttered. "To end up so far from my native shores? And how did I leave the mountain in the first place? I'm positive my meditations weren't that deep."

As he tried to summon up memories of his recent times, he was met with a fog, with only flickers of images playing before his minds eye.

Screaming.

Thunder.

Hands.

Stone.

The Monkey King shook his head and hissed. What had happened to him?

A sea breeze gently caressed his face, drawing him from his musings. Wukong looked behind him and upwards toward the horizon of tall buildings, wondering if he should leap again for another view, when a strong scent tickled his nostrils, one of oil and meat. Ignoring the drool spooling from his mouth, Wukong turned in the direction of the wafting aroma.

'What peculiar, yet tempting perfume is this?'

There in the corner, was a shop, with a green sunroof reaching for the street. The sign above it was written in the scripture of this…Měiguó…which he didn't understand. His sharp ears picked out faint voices coming from within the shop, speaking the same tongue as the two mortals he saved last night.

'Looked terrified out their minds, they were. And I understood not a single mumble from their lips.' He rubbed his chin in contemplation. 'While it would be fun to mess with the humans now…I'd rather see what the source of that delightful scent is without being chased off.'

Nodding to himself, Wukong cracked his knuckles and twirled around. A puff of smoke enveloped his form, and from out of the smoke flew a golden cicada.

'Ah, Master Subodhi, the art of transformation was your greatest gift to me!'

The monkey-turned-insect flew into the store, unseen by anyone and landed on one of the empty tables. Behind the main counter, a portly, unshaven man wearing a stained apron was chopping something with a long knife. Flapping his tiny form's wings, the disguised Wukong flew to the counter and touched down on the glass sill. To his delight, he saw the man place shredded chunks of dripping meat between pieces of thick bread and top it with all manner of sauces and vegetables, including round red slices shaped like a wheel that were unfamiliar to the monkey.

'Oh, what a hearty dish this is! Any monk would faint at such a display of butchery. I myself do not partake much in meat but…I must say, my meditations have left me quite peckish. Heh, Master Tang would have fainted on the spot if he could be here.'

A loud shout shook Wukong as he peered up at the greasy man as he placed the meal on the counter. Skittering to the edge of the glass, he watched as a young woman, with hair as red as fire dressed in a manner of clothing that would have made any court - or anywhere that wasn't a brothel - titter in outrage and scandal walk over and take the meat, placing a greenish paper on the counter. The cook took the paper and gave her some coins in return. 'Hm, I have heard some of the great cities started to use paper as money…that must be this land's version of it.'

The woman returned to her table where two other women sat, one of whom had skin the color of dark soil, greeted her and they began chatting, occasionally giggling like the maidens they undoubtedly were. While amusing to the Monkey King, his lack of understanding of their words frustrated him. Not to mention he didn't even know what that marvelous dish was even called!

'So what should I do to remedy this?' he pondered. His master was the one to handle most of the talking on their long journey, and most people and yaoguai spoke a shared tongue. 'Yet disciples of Buddha come from all lands and peoples, so there must be a - of course!'

The cicada flew out of the store and towards the stone buildings. After he reached a rather tall one, he transformed back into his original self and sat down in the lotus position on the roof. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and began to speak, the words flowing from his mouth like honey:

"Om Ami Dewa Hrih

Om Ami Dewa Hrih

Om Ami Dewa Hrih…"

Over and over the Monkey King chanted, feeling the energy of the universe flow up his legs and from the tips of his hairs to his ears and face. Voices and images flashed in his mind, at one moment lasting eons, the other lasting barely a whisper's length. When he repeated the mantra one final time, he opened his eyes and his vision flashed with gold.

Exhaling, Wukong shook his head and rose. He peered over the roof's edge and his sharp eyes caught a sign in the foreign script, stuck on the edge of a tall metal pole. For a moment, the engraving upon it was as unintelligible as ever, but then something clicked in his mind, as though a lake was cleared of muddy waters.

It was a name.

Wukong grinned as comprehension finally dawned upon him. The word engraved upon the metal sign was a name! His head then tilted with curiosity. What would a name be doing stuck on a pole?

'Is it the ruler of this city? No, there are many like these scattered around, and they bear different names. Hm…I do believe they refer to the street.' He nodded. 'Yes, a simple street marker. Truly, your genius is boundless, Wukong!'

He hummed a little tune as he jumped over to the next roof and gazed at the people below. More and more had left their homes and were bustling about, some of them bearing the familiar features of the Middle Kingdom. But as he kept watching them, he noticed a feature that stood out even among their clothes, faces, and even their hair: an underlying tension, a miasma that hung over the city, caked in the same blood and grime he had smelled before.

'For a city with such strange wonders, its people seem the opposite. What could they be so frightened of? Is it related to the bandits I fought?'

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement.

Wukong hopped over to the roof's edge and looked down into the alley between the two buildings. There, lurking in the shadows, was a group of men, gathered around two dark-skinned folk - a boy and a younger girl. Judging from the clubs and metal rods in their hands, he doubted the interaction was friendly.

He transformed into a cicada again and flew down to better observe the situation. As he flew closer, Wukong heard the words of the would-be bandits in full clarity.

"...you know this part of town is Empire turf. What's a nigger and his skank doing here?"

The boy positioned himself so he shielded the girl, not letting the men out of his sight. "Just passing by. We don't want any trouble."

"Oh really? You should've thought about that before you entered these parts, struttin' around like you own the place."

"Kaiser will get you all one day, the chinks and kikes too," snickered another man, his arm muscular and tattooed with symbols.

"So unless you cough up some dough, we break every bone in your body and maybe leave you and the girl for the cops."

The boy clenched his fist as he looked left and right, his posture akin to a coiled snake. The bandits seemed to sense this and took a step closer, brandishing their weapons. Wukong took the scene in and mentally hummed. While their skills seemed lacking, their weapons were not, and he doubted the boy could hold them off.

'Master and the monk would want to save them, the horse wouldn't care, and the pig would want food or money…why am I considering what he would do?'

"Okay, time's up!" The apparent leader spoke. "Better hope you got some pocket change, cause I'd hate to leave with only a couple broken niggers as a prize."

As the bandits smacked their weapons against their fists and the youngsters looked ready to bolt, Wukong made up his mind.

'Eh, why not?'

A cloud of smoke filled the alley and one of the thugs fell in a heap, making everyone turn around. The other bandits swore and backed off as Wukong rose to his full height and looked down at the man he'd landed on. Idly wiping his feet on his back, the monkey took his time and looked at the assorted thugs. 'Their noses are huge! And eyes as big as dinner plates! Are the people of Měiguó all guai-borne?'

"Good day to you! I hope I wasn't interrupting!"

The language that sounded in his ears was queer, even as his own lips spoke in his usual tongue. Such mantras worked in strange ways, but he did not deny their effectiveness.

"Grange!" the leader shouted, nervous yet hateful eyes staring into Wukong's own amused ones. "Who-what the fuck are you!?"

"Me?" Wukong asked and placed a hand on his chest. "I am but a humble traveler who saw the plight of these poor youths. I confess I do not understand the names you called them, but I hardly think they were friendly, no?"

"How the hell did you get here!?" one of them said as he clutched his pipe.

"Ah, I was watching from up there," Wukong replied and pointed upwards. Everyone glanced in the same direction and the leader's eyes widened.

"The fuck? The chinks have a new cape?"

At those words, everyone seemed to draw in their breaths. Even the children seemed to freeze.

"Cape? I had a cape, but I seem to have lost it."

The tattoo-armed man huddled closer to the leader. "Hey boss, maybe we should leave. Hookwolf and the others can have a go at him."

Instead of doing the smart thing, the leader growled like a dog and banged his club against the building wall. "To hell with that! He's not Lung or Oni Lee! Just some chimp-ass-looking wannabe who the chinks like since they're all monkeys!" He glared at Wukong and clutched his weapon with two hands. "When I'm done with you, the slants will never mess with Kaiser and the Empire again!"

'Ah, they have an empire then? Maybe I'll meet him soon!' Regardless, Wukong tilted his head. "Before we start, there's no shame in surrendering. Greater men than you have tried."

While the bandits were nervous before, now they were plain peeved.

"Oh well…" Wukong reached up and placed a hand next to his ear. "I could use a challenge for today."

With a slight pinch, he pulled out a needle from behind his ear. He twirled it between his fingers and in a flash of light, what was once a needle was now a golden-capped staff. Twirling the staff around and grasping it in the middle, he pulled it behind him and raised his free arm.

The men froze and Wukong chuckled. How many times were his enemies frozen by that little trick? It never failed to amuse him.

"Oh? Where's your bravado? Surely this isn't enough to make you freeze?" at the sound of silence, the monkey tapped the staff against the ground, letting out a clear ding. "No? Well, be it far from me to be a bad host."

It all lasted three beats. Each blow was thunder.

A sweep took one down. The other received a bonk to the head. The tattooed man, to his credit, tried to approach Wukong, but a dropkick broke his ribs and sent him tumbling like a doll.

At last, only the leader remained, surrounded by the broken and moaning bodies of his defeated comrades. The anger on his face was replaced by widened eyes and a shaking form. Wukong simply twirled his staff again and pointed it at the now-pathetic thug.

"Well? Are you going to dance as well?"

Instead of replying or attacking, the man turned and charged…at the children.

Oh, that won't do.

Good thing that he had this.

With a gentle stab, the staff shot out and extended all the way to the man's back, sending him flying out of the alley and across the street, smashing his head against the opposite building. The children, having dodged in time, looked back and forth between the thugs and himself, with the same stare that Peizhi-xiansheng had given him.

"Run off to your parents, little ones! Alleys like these make excellent breeding spots for lowlives. Farewell!"

Wukong somersaulted into the air and transformed into a sparrow, flying out of the alley and out of the city. When he reached the clouds, he transformed back and walked upon the cloud. He gazed at the city below, filled with strangeness and blood, and felt his stone heart beat fast.

'What do you know, Wukong…this looks like it'll be a fun little trip!'

Ta-da! Here I am!

Wow, I did not expect this story to blow up this quickly. I'm so happy *sniff*

We have here our first glimpse at Wukong, both outside and inside POV. I'm using a combination of various adaptations, not just from the original book. Monkie Kid, Black Myth Wukong (GOTY for sure!) and the old Shanghai cartoon Uproar in Heaven (free on YT with sub) are the most prominent. I hope I did a good enough representation of his character.

If you want to help fund my writing, hop over to my at pat . reon / user?u=47732921 and donate! Members will get previews and chapters ahead of time!

If you enjoyed this story, check out my other ones and look at my profile for challenges!

Most importantly...

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Great Sage, Equal to Heaven and Above Brockton by Darkscythe Drake

Journey to the West & Worm Xover Rated: T, English, Adventure & Drama, Sun Wukong, Skitter, Vista, Words: 229k+, Favs: 902, Follows: 1k+, Published: Sep 9, 2024 Updated: Feb 10

363Chapter 3: Sotāpanna 1-03

Guess who? It's me! Monkey Time ahoy!

You know the drill, read, review, moo, yodelayheehoo.

Huge thanks to MentalForge, storybookknight, QAI521 and bookie from the Cauldron server who helped me with this chapter!

So without further ado...

The Monkey King searched diligently for the way of immortality, but he had no chance of meeting it. Going through big cities and visiting small towns, he unwittingly spent eight or nine years on the South Jambūdvīpa Continent before he suddenly came upon the Great Western Ocean. He thought that there would certainly be immortals living beyond the ocean; so, having built himself a raft like the previous one, he once again drifted across the Western Ocean until he reached the West Aparagodānīya Continent. After landing, he searched for a long time, when all at once he came upon a tall and beautiful mountain with thick forests at its base. Since he was afraid neither of wolves and lizards nor of tigers and leopards, he went straight to the top to look around. It was indeed a magnificent mountain…As he was looking about, he suddenly heard the sound of a man speaking deep within the woods. Hurriedly he dashed into the forest and cocked his ear to listen…When the Handsome Monkey King heard this, he was filled with delight, saying, "So the immortals are hiding in this place!"

- Journey to the West, Chapter 1

A visual flashed in the visor, and he wasted no time responding.

"This is Armsmaster."

"Armsmaster, this is PRT Captain Dunlow, incoming report."

"What is it?" he replied, even as he kept tinkering with his halberd.

"Possible parahuman event. We got a call from Brockton P.D. about a few Empire thugs lying on the streets. They were beaten up bad and are at Brockton General right now."

"Are you positive?"

Despite the moment of quiet, he could hear the captain's frown. "If the state they were left in says anything? Yes."

If he was any less focused, Armsmaster would've paused. "Continue."

"All five of them had broken bones, and when I say broken, I mean almost shattered. From what the doc told us, two had their ribs almost caved in. One was found across the street and with a concussion, maybe a skull fracture. We got no eyewitness reports of another gang showing up, and while a couple of the guys think this is infighting, we both know what's likely going on here."

The armored hero placed the halberd down and moved to the gauntlet on his left. He pulled a tiny wire clipper from a nearby drawer and reached into the open armor piece. His tone changed from clipped to calculating. "No reports? We haven't heard of any movements from the Merchants or Oni Lee. What's the location?"

"Downtown, southeast. We asked them how they got beat around like ragdolls, and the only one conscious enough to answer said, and I quote:" A deep inhale sounded from the comms. "Some monkey-faced chink cape pulled out a stick from nowhere and whooped their asses."

Armsmaster pursed his lips as a low hum, akin to a growl, escaped his throat. That description was very familiar. "A monkey-faced cape?"

"That's what he said. When we asked how he knew he was Asian, the gangbanger said, and again I quote: 'He wore pansy-ass robes he'd seen chinks wear in those old cartoons.'"

For the first time in hours, Armsmaster paused his repairs. Rubbing his bearded chin, he contemplated everything the officer told him. "Did they say anything else? Where did the cape go or where did he come from?"

"Nope. They were too busy rolling in pain or sleeping with concussions to notice. They didn't seem cooperative about why they were even there in the first place, but it was no stroll down the road, that's for sure. We collected some knives, a pistol, and a few improv weapons at the site, so I'd bet my salary that it wasn't anything good."

He drew in a breath. Great. "I see…keep an eye out for any sighting of that cape and send any reports to the PRT. If this really is a new cape, we need to nip this in the bud, or worst case, get an idea of who we're dealing with." He paused, then cleared his throat. "And…thank you for the information. Keep me posted on any new developments."

"Yes sir." With that, he disconnected and the visor went dark.

"So soon, and it's barely been a day. Though it's less dramatic than most debuts we've seen."

Armsmaster nodded at the female voice's remark, his bearded jaw chewing on air. "Maybe this one values discretion, it makes no difference. What's important now is finding out everything we can about this new cape and who he's aligned with." He pulled up a map of Brockton onscreen. "First the store at the Docks, now Downtown, against two different gangs. Beats them up fast and disappears from the scene. If the Empire and ABB thugs' accounts are to be believed, then he's male, and based on his clothing, possibly Asian." The second screen flashed with lists and images of reports.

"There was a recent incident - two days ago - with Lung over a brothel. Miss Militia was on the scene along with Assault. Aegis and Stalker provided backup for evacuation and gangster containment. The whole building burnt down and while the fires were stopped from spreading further, there were civilian casualties. There were no reports of any unidentified parahuman activity though."

Armsmaster frowned. God knows why Lung decided to destroy one of his brothels; suspicion of traitors maybe? An insult? He was never one to take one lightly. Regardless, as sad as it was to say, it wouldn't be unlikely for incidents like these to produce a trigger event. He clicked on one of the reports and enlarged it.

"There's one thing that almost confirms that this new cape is the same one from the grocery store," The female voice made him shake his head and refocus. "The gangsters' descriptions of this Parahuman."

"Yes…'monkey-faced'." It was one thing for racist gangsters to call someone that. When two racist gangsters on opposite sides call them the same thing?

"Case-53 scenario?" he asked.

"Likely. Compared to some capes on the database, a monkey isn't an unlikely transformation."

More reports popped up on the screen. "There have been some rumors that Lung is looking to bolster his ranks with Parahumans. According to what little intel we have, some ABB members were seen in Boston, around its Chinatown district."

He sat down and tapped the desk, his mental gears whirring. "And you are absolutely sure he's not one of said new recruits? Their…initiations…" The disgust was obvious, even through the call. Not that he blamed her; he'd been to many aftermaths of those 'initiations'. "Don't rule out hazing by fighting other members."

"It wouldn't be so open and they wouldn't call the police - or let anyone else try to."

He nodded and typed in a command. "I'm opening a file for this new Parahuman. Everything we mentioned just now and any similar reports go there. No name yet, but I'll assign him ratings of Brute and Mover 3. He'll be treated as an independent until we figure out his affiliation or recruit him for the Protectorate. Any equipment, Dragon? The report says he had a staff."

"It also says he pulled it from his ear," Dragon stated.

"Noted. Adding potential Striker and Stranger to the rating."

"Not Tinker?" she asked.

"Tinkers don't usually have secondary powers. And we don't have any mention of additional gear or Tinkertech. It wouldn't make sense, especially if he's a new Case 53. Tinkers need time to produce their tech, and judging from the reports, I'd say he's been in the city for two, three days at most."

"Are you going to inform Director Piggot?"

Armsmaster gazed hard at the screen, his expression obscured behind his helmet's visor. "Only the absolute basics. We've encountered a cape of unknown alignment."

The screen flashed and a woman wearing green armor and long brown hair appeared, bearing a concerned expression. "Colin, if a new Parahuman is on the scene then the last thing you should do is keep this from the director. I know there have been issues-"

"This isn't about that," he interjected, a tad forcefully. "This is a professional matter. We don't have enough intelligence on this cape, not even a picture. Gathering data and determining his modus operandi is the priority here. The last thing we need is to deliver vague or false information."

Dragon frowned, then slowly sighed. "If that's what you think is right," she said. "How are you going to track him?"

Armsmaster scowled, but nonetheless acquiesced. "I'll pull up every street camera from Downtown to the Docks and run through the last 24 hours. I'll forward the intel to the response teams and the Protectorate and notify them to keep an extra eye out during patrols, the Wards too just in case."

"Rules of engagement?"

"Right now, no provocations. For the Wards, if encountered, they are to notify Console immediately and await a Protectorate Hero and a PRT squad. If they can stall him nonviolently until we pitch recruitment, they have permission to do so." He went to his halberd and tinkered with it some more. "If a meeting escalates to violence, restrain and delay until the capture team or a Hero arrives. If a Protectorate Hero encounters him, they are to do the same, but they have full permission to engage directly if hostile. In all cases, containment teams are to be notified. When we have more intel, I'll update."

With that, Armsmaster looked away from the screen, put down his tools, and looked at his weapon. "Are the upgrades all working?" asked Dragon.

"Everything seems in order, nothing's pinging the diagnostic scan." He placed the halberd back down and returned to the computer.

"Maybe he came from overseas…but he wouldn't be able to hide himself easily with his looks."

"Barring any power-related explanations, smuggled or stowaway?"

"Exactly." A map of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans covered with dotted and dashed lines appeared on the screen, each one labeled. Contrary to popular belief, the international shipping trade's decline was not due to the threat of Leviathan attacking ships; if anything, the Endbringer left them alone. No, its main casualties were the port cities where trade was received - along with their respective populations and Parahumans - and the increased risk of international shipping upped insurance rates, which, combined with the former scenario, dealt crippling blows to the industry. But it was far from dead, especially with the new Endbringer disaster protocols; Brockton Bay simply had it rougher than everywhere else.

Like always. Underfunded, crime-inflated, dilapidated, cape-flooded and one breath away from collapsing into total anarchy and pandemonium.

As those dark thoughts began to swim in his mind's eye, Armsmaster took a deep breath. One problem at a time. One way or another, he would fix this city, deal with the gangs, and show the rest of the world that Heroes like him would always stop those walking monsters called Villains. He would tinker and tinker until he had the best tools for the job; right now though, he would settle for looking into this new cape.

Maybe this would be minor stress relief compared to the usual bullshit this town pulled over him.

Sun Wukong was a curious individual.

His friends called him many traits: impulsive, reckless, mischievous, clever and utterly handsome, to name a few. Among all those, curiosity was among the last usually attributed to him. Yet did he not venture into the unknown for nine years in search of immortality? Did he not take the first leap into Water Curtain Cave, where he was crowned as king of his fellow primates? In fact, many of his early deeds were the result of naught but curious fancy.

Case in point, he was perched atop his staff, on the roof of a tall stone building, surveying the strange city of Bù luō kè dùn wān - Brockton Bay. To an observer, he would appear akin to a sailor in the crow's nest of a ship, gazing at the horizon. The sun had passed its noontime mark, beginning a quick descent into the skyline. He silently marveled at the spires of glass and metal, at the wrecked ships along the distant docks. He felt the wind caress his face, the whispers of a winter chill taking the stage from the autumn breeze. Soon enough, the rains and snow would grace the skies and kiss the earth. Faint birdsong tickled his ears, their foreign chirps producing brisk melodies. The growling of the metal carriages, the idle talks of the native mortals, the buzzing of lightning that emanated from every lamp and home - it was all so…different from the cities of Zhōngguó. Even Chang'an, the Tang capital of a million souls, where he visited with his master at the end of his journey, was unlike this one. It was less populated here, for sure, but it had an energy that he'd seen nowhere else. How queer, how exotic, how…foreign.

'And is that such a bad thing?' thought the Monkey King as he twirled around his staff, doing a tiny somersault and landing on its tip. 'Some of those old fools back home would huff at any foreign tales. Hah! So stuck aspiring for the heavens, they failed to see the vastness of the earth around them! Goes to show them that!'

The smug grin on his face however slowly melted into a troubled line. 'Yet…the differences here are stark, both for good and ill. The scent of muck and blood is strong in the air, and the fear I felt earlier seems to shroud this whole city.' He inhaled deeply and grimaced. 'Not just fear…negativity in all of its shades. Those thugs, with the different costumes, are they a symptom or the cause?'

Wukong grasped his staff and leapt over to a taller building. Reaching its roof's edge, he held onto it with his claws and dangled over it, his staff firmly in his free hand. He could see the woodlands creeping along the western hills, hidden behind rows of smaller buildings. Unlike the spire he was on, they were squatted, ugly, and worn. 'Not only that…'

For an instant, the world was awash with gold.

'The qi here is…warped. Tainted even.' The ever-present life force of the universe was abundant in Flower-Fruit Mountain and Master Subodhi's cave. They were auspicious places, blessed by the heavens, and he had cultivated his talent and prowess greatly there. On the long road to the Western lands such places were scarce, but he always felt the soothing ebb and flow of qi. 'Yet here, it is as though it has blended with the filth in the air! Only demonic strongholds or doors to the underworld were foul enough to taint qi in such a manner. True, it proves no issue for me, but I have seen neither hide nor hair of any yaoguai or spirit since awakening.'

He pulled himself up nimbly onto the roof and crouched, staring at the stream of people below. 'This Brockton Bay is hiding something behind these spires and towers. Crime and human degeneracy to be sure, but this mystery goes far deeper.' He scratched his chin and let out a raspy breath. "I should ask Peizhi-xiānshēng about this. As a native of this city, he would surely provide more insight. Maybe I could taste that delicious beef dish again." He nodded. "Yes, a good plan. Though I should examine every district here before-"

"Hey!"

Wukong was startled from his thoughts by a voice to his left. Turning his head, he blinked as he took in the individual who had spoken: a girl in white wearing a dress that only reached her knees, with hair spun like gold adorned with a small, golden crown. Her face was that of the locals, with round blue eyes and soft cheeks. By human standards, she was quite the beauty.

The girl idly floated toward him, her arms crossed and a curious look upon her face. She seemed to lean forward before her eyes widened and she jerked back. "Wow, that is one hell of a mask."

Wukong pointed at his face. "Mask? I wear no mask."

Her eyes widened even further and she leaned back. "Oh shit, for real? Sorry." Her stare returned to its inquisitive state before she flew around him. "I've gotta say, this is the first time I've heard of a cape turning into a monkey, and there are some weird 53s online. You even have a tail!"

While Wukong had no idea what that last phrase meant, he did notice the other thing she said. "Little girl, I am the Handsome Monkey King! Of course I am a monkey!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Handsome Monkey King? Pretentious much?" She bobbed in the air as she kept talking. The ability to fly was far from strange to Wukong - it would be easier to list the people he knew who couldn't fly.

'But I feel no qi gathering around her feet, nor do I sense it enveloping her or granting her wings. All mortal methods of flight use some variation of those. A xiān maybe? No, not with the qi here. Any immortal would heave and flee before willingly subjecting themselves to living with such tainted air.'

"I haven't seen you around before. You new in town?"

Wukong idly twirled his staff as he followed her line of sight. "I recently arrived. I awoke before dawn, had a good meal, and enjoyed the view. If only the company was politer, this would've been perfect."

"Yeah, the sunsets are nice high up - hold up," she stopped and shot him a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

Her eye twitched, but she maintained her movement. "If you wanna make a good first impression, then being a smartass won't help." She then paused at her words before shrugging. "But if it helps you then go ahead. Not like I'm one to talk."

Wukong scoffed at the remark. 'I insulted every god in Heaven and got away with it, xiǎo gūniáng. A few mortals don't scare me.'

"Where did you wake up? I'm assuming it was recent?"

He slowly nodded. "I have. It was quite strange, I recognized almost nothing, but I was fortunate enough to meet a kind countryman who offered me food."

"And those clothes too?" she asked, gesturing to his robes. "Gotta say, pretty outdated."

Wukong snorted. "These are perfectly fine robes! I saw no need to ask for clothing."

Glory Girl blinked. "They were already on you?" She then rubbed her chin and her eyes narrowed. "You said a fellow countryman. Then…you're Asian? Chinese? Japanese?"

"I am from…" he took a moment to let the words translate in his mind and recalled the map Peizhi had shown him. "China, yes."

Whilst her words held simple interest before, now the girl seemed to tense at those words. Odd. Was it something he said?

The Monkey King looked up and down her form once more. Despite her rather…provocative wear and somewhat pale frame, her exposed arms revealed the musculature hidden beneath. Was she royalty? It would make sense, especially with the crown. Most peasants couldn't afford such finery. Then again, he'd barely seen anyone in patches or rags here. Regardless, this girl was a warrior, there was no mistaking that. She was primed to strike should she find sufficient reason.

"So, you decide to go solo or did someone already recruit you?"

Then perhaps…he should give her a sufficient reason.

'Hmm…Master Tang wouldn't have liked this…but I could use the exercise. Those thugs weren't much of a challenge.'

He tossed the staff over his shoulders and grasped it like a yoke, slowly walking in circles. "And why should I tell you any of my business, girl? I do not know you."

She smirked and placed a hand on her hip. Well, since you're new here, let me give you a little intro. The name's Glory Girl, and I'd think who's jumping from building to building would like some help knowing where he's at."

How cute. "'Glory Girl?'" He let out a raspy bark of laughter, "Now who is the pretentious one? What glory have you claimed to earn such a title?"

Glory Girl narrowed her eyes. "I told you to watch being a smartass. You're lucky I'm not a psycho like Hookwolf or Lung. They'd skip past the courtesy and move straight to ripping you in half."

'Odd names, but they have weight to them. Are they figures of renown in these parts?' Wukong thought. He then chuckled and stopped pacing. "Is that arrogance I hear?" He smirked at her as his tail swished. "Careful, you might end up biting the wrong peach."

The flying woman raised an eyebrow. "Don't you mean apple?"

"What is an apple?"

"...it's a fruit. You know, big, red, crispy? Seriously, you don't know what an apple is?" she mimed a round shape with her hands after getting over her shock.

"Hmm," he tapped his chin then shook his head. "Haven't heard of it! I'll make sure to try one later." The sight of her confounded almost made him giggle.

Wukong tilted his staff and fiddled with its golden tip, idly tracing the intricate dragon carved along its length. "While I appreciate the offer of help, I think I will manage fine by myself. But you carry yourself like a warrior, and I must admit, I am intrigued." He pointed the staff at her. "So why don't we have a little bout? A test of fist and weapon?"

"'Fist and weapon'? You wanna fight me?" Glory girl asked, her hands on her hips. "Wow, a smartass and a battle-maniac. Why?"

"To see if that title of yours lives up to its name. Your confidence is radiant, and I wish to see if it's true or a mask for arrogance." She narrowed her eyes at him again. "Though judging by the quality of thugs around here, I can see where that might come from."

"You fought gangsters already? Yeah, the rank-and-file don't have much going for them other than being utter wastes of humanity."

"Ah, so they are mere fodder." Wukong let a mischievous smile grow. She seemed a more cautious warrior than he thought. But if there was anything he knew how to do best, it was annoying people.

"Though I must say, you claim to be a hero, but your state of dress says otherwise. Are you sure you're not a harlot with some fancy tricks?"

This time, he got his reaction. The girl's eyes widened as the insult settled in before narrowing like a hawk. She cracked her knuckles and bent her knees. "So warnings go right over your furry head. Good to know. Alright, monkey-man, I'm game. How about last one standing wins? Any time you want to back out, I won't blame you. Unlike some goons, I'm no pushover."

"Ha! That is the best joke I've heard since I woke up!" The Monkey King twirled his staff before pointing it at her. "Then, by all means, Glory Girl, let me see the steel behind your words!"

Yep, it's me!

Not much to say other than first meeting with Glory Girl! Let's see how our Monkey deals with her!

Big thanks to bookie and Cauldron server for helping me with characterization!

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Chapter 859 - GSEH 1-3