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Great Sage, Equal to Heaven and Above Brockton [Worm/Chinese Myth] Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2024-09-08 20:11:57 +0000 UTC“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 which 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
Luo 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. Luo 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, Luo 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 Luo with a fanged smile and bowed. “Once again, I offer my thanks 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 Luo a toothy smile. “But when I woke up, there was so much to see! Everything’s different! Tell me, which province are we in?”
Luo 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 Luo 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?”
Luo 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 Luo 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?”
Luo 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 Luo 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 Luo 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, Luo returned to the room with a rolled-up map under his arm. The monkey smiled at him and eyed the map with excitement as Luo unrolled it and placed it on the table.
“That is China,” Luo 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. Luo 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 Luo’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!” Luo 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 Luo 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 Luo 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!”
Luo swallowed, ignoring the sweat trickling down his nose. “It’s Peizhi. Peizhi Luo,” 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 was threatening to fall from his skull, as his eyes were in danger of popping out of it. If one could glance into Luo’s mind, one would see the gears grind to a halt.
“Sun…Wukong?” Luo 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?”
Luo 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 Luo could respond, Wukong leapt through the window and down into the street. Startled by the sudden action, Luo 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 Luo 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.
…
…
…Luo 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 Luo’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.’
-x-
‘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
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!’
