"It's cheaper here. Since you have such a big group, I'll only charge you a hundred Gold Essence."
At these words, the crowd of demons erupted into laughter.
"What did he say? Hahaha, did you all hear what he just said?"
"He said he'll only charge a hundred Gold Essence. Hahaha."
"A hundred Gold Essence? Hahaha." The crowd of demons laughed so hard they were out of breath.
But the Monkey King did not laugh. He simply bared his teeth, eyes wide, quietly staring at Crocodile Jack.
Behind him, Big Bull and Rhino were already reaching for their weapons. The little demons clustered toward White Ape, Fiona Fox hid behind Shortbeak, and Shortbeak's fingers touched his quiver.
The Monkey King sensed quietly: among the demons present today—including those mingling with the lesser demons—at least twenty had attained the Spirit-Gathering Stage. The strongest among them were Boar Pete and Crocodile Jack.
Boar Pete's strength was slightly higher than Rhino and Big Bull. As for Crocodile Jack, his power was already at the threshold of the Spirit-Refinement Stage—even Big Bull and Rhino together could not handle him.
Crocodile Jack, still laughing uproariously, suddenly widened his eyes: "You dare talk tough!"
Before he finished speaking, his saber was already whistling through the air, its blade coming dangerously close to the Monkey King's throat.
The Monkey King's lips curled into a faint smile as he casually lifted his Cloudwalker Staff.
"Clang—!"
A thunderous crash erupted, sparks flying everywhere.
The entire camp fell silent; it was as if the laughter had been abruptly strangled.
Every demon, friend or foe, held their breath.
With one hand!
All the demons stared wide-eyed in disbelief, watching as the Monkey King caught the saber with his thin arm and leg—using only one hand.
He still wore a smile on his face.
Crocodile Jack's mouth hung open, clearly stunned.
Before Crocodile Jack could recover, the Monkey King lowered his body slightly, darted forward, and slammed his Cloudwalker Staff hard into Crocodile Jack’s chest.
His thick scales shattered, the terrifying crunch echoed through the camp, and every demon winced.
No one knew how many ribs Crocodile Jack broke from that blow.
Back when the Monkey King was at the early Spirit Channeling Stage, wielding a three-hundred-pound Cloudwalker Staff, he could easily defeat Louis Wang, who was at the initial Spirit-Refinement Stage.
Now, the Monkey King had already reached the peak of the Spirit Channeling Stage, wielding a thousand-pound Cloudwalker Staff as his standard weapon. Crocodile Jack, though also at the peak of the Spirit Channeling Stage and practicing the Traveler’s Path, still couldn’t withstand it.
With just one blow, his whole body trembled, his eyes rolled back, his head tilted, mouth agape, and a spray of fresh blood erupted.
He didn’t even have time to scream—his body looked as if it would collapse with a gentle push.
Only then did the demons present snap out of their shock, and a chorus of battle cries filled the air.
Boar Pete charged at the Monkey King, raising his spiked club, but Rhino rushed over and blocked it with his giant axe.
Before Boar Pete could pull back his spiked club, there was a sharp thud—Shortbeak, standing not far away, shot an arrow into his abdomen.
Behind him, Big Bull lunged forward, grabbed Boar Pete’s chin with one hand, and with the other, pressed his broadsword to Pete’s throat. Without hesitation, he sliced across the neck.
Blood sprayed across the ground like a fountain.
Boar Pete dropped his spiked club, clutched his throat, and fell to his knees. His mouth gaped as if to cry out, but only more blood poured out.
Meanwhile, Crocodile Jack, who was teetering in front of the Monkey King, collapsed with a crash.
All the little demons they had brought stared wide-eyed at the horrific scene. Moments later, one after another, they screamed, dropped their weapons, and fled for their lives.
In an instant, the battle was over.
In the open space at the center of the camp, only three figures stood in stunned silence.
Even the lesser demons on the Monkey King's side were dumbstruck, staring at the three in the center, while Rhino and Big Bull stared at the Monkey King.
Crocodile Jack, lying on the ground, finally caught his breath. He opened his mouth and trembled, "Don’t… don’t kill me…"
The Monkey King planted his Cloudwalker Staff in the ground, walked over expressionlessly, snatched the broadsword from Big Bull, lifted Crocodile Jack’s jaw to expose his white-scaled neck, and swung the blade.
"What’s wrong?"
The moment he asked, the whole camp erupted in deafening cheers.
Amid the jubilation, White Ape smiled at Monkey King with satisfaction, while the little demons gazed at him with boundless admiration.
It was only today that they truly witnessed the Monkey King’s strength.
No, it seemed they hadn’t even seen the full extent—just one blow had felled Crocodile Jack.
Maybe… as long as Monkey King was here, they wouldn’t be bullied—whether by the Skyward Rangers or anyone here!
They screamed and celebrated with all their might, like a bunch of children.
In the excitement, the little demons searched the two corpses and found twenty Gold Essence and a handful of miscellaneous items.
Shortbeak, eager to press the advantage, hobbled along with his cane, leading a group of little demons to search for the lairs of their fallen foes.
Unfortunately, the good stuff had long since been looted.
Still, they managed to find a few decent things—at least, for this penniless band, they were treasures.
There was wine, food, and a few cotton quilts, for example.
They immediately decided to throw a celebration in the camp. Five bonfires were lit, flames soaring high, and the whole camp buzzed with excitement.
Sitting off to one side, Monkey King watched the circle of jubilant demons, then lowered his head and took out the jade slip from his waist, clutching it in his palm.
"Is it broken?"
It must have fallen just now and was accidentally stepped on by that fat Boar Pete.
He let out a long, heavy sigh.
He could only hope it wasn’t completely broken. If so, though he couldn’t communicate, at least Yang Chan could still find him.
Losing contact with Yang Chan would be a devastating blow for Monkey King.
Based on past experience, he couldn’t break through to the Spirit-Refinement Stage on his own.
"Monkey King, come here!" White Ape called out, raising his wooden cup.
With a helpless shake of his head, Monkey King walked toward the circle of demons.
That night, these demons who had just arrived at their new home drank themselves into a stupor.
White Ape hugged Monkey King, his eyes brimming with tears, speaking in fits and starts about his distant, unattainable dreams.
Shortbeak, limping by the bonfire, began to dance and sing a ballad said to have been taught by his dream lover, though no one understood the words.
Big Bull raised his broadsword, grabbed Monkey King’s hand, and asked whether the woman who often visited was a demon or a human.
He was talking about Yang Chan.
After learning she was human, Big Bull swore that one day he’d become a mountain king like the evil flood dragon, fearless of the Heavenly Court, and would snatch a human princess for a wife.
Then he hugged Monkey King and cried his heart out, though no one knew why.
It was the first time Rhino didn’t doze off; he publicly challenged Monkey King to another contest of strength—and lost again, of course.
As for Fiona Fox, Monkey King sent her to bed early, but she snuck out again and refused to go back. In the end, she was given a cup of wine. She sipped it for ages, barely making a dent, but her face turned bright red.
That night, Monkey King joined them in wild singing and shouting, laughed at the sky, and wept together with them.
That night, every demon went completely wild—it was an emotional release unlike anything they’d ever known.
For this group of demons, tossed about all their lives, it was the first time they’d had a home. Though it was simple and they still had nothing, at least they could light bonfires, shout, drink, sing, cry, and laugh to their hearts’ content.
It was a feeling the gods living in cold palaces above could never understand.
That night, perhaps, they were all truly drunk…
...
Meanwhile, in the Hall of Life and Death, Taishang Laojun finally finished reviewing the Book of Life and Death for the year following Birdie’s death. Even for someone of his cultivation, he couldn’t help but feel anger rising.
What did it mean to review an entire year’s Book of Life and Death?
The Book of Life and Death recorded the fate of every living thing in the mortal realm.
Not just humans, but snakes, insects, rats, ants—even a single cockroach, a single mosquito, or a solitary tree—all were accounted for.
Normally, the Underworld operated as a vast bureaucracy, but now Taishang Laojun was reviewing everything by himself.
Yet he didn’t want too many people to know about this matter, and even if he called others to help, how could they possibly spot the problem?
Thinking of this, Taishang Laojun couldn’t help but curse the one who had taken Birdie’s soul.
"Who was it? Who was it? Who did this!"
It wasn’t the most ingenious trick, but it was certainly vile enough.
Seeing Taishang Laojun’s livid face, Yan Luo, who had been standing by for who knows how many shifts, bowed his head even lower.
...
Early the next morning, after arriving at Drake City, a squad of demon soldiers stormed into the camp. Their general showed Monkey King a token and shouted, "His Majesty wants to see you! Immediately!"