Hearing this, King Roc stood where he was and slowly broke into a smile.
"Lord Many-Eyes, were you waiting for me?"
"Otherwise, do you think my men would be foolish enough to let you catch them?"
Looking at Many-Eyes, King Roc's smile widened. He strode over to the tea table, flung his cloak aside, and sat down, sighing leisurely: "I'll admit you have some skill—you're quite the character. But isn't that a bit too much self-importance?"
"Whether it's self-importance or not, Your Majesty will find out soon enough." With that, Many-Eyes poured a cup of tea and slid it across the table.
King Roc shot a cold glance at the eerily smiling Many-Eyes, feeling a twinge of annoyance. He grabbed the teacup, drained it in one gulp, and slammed it back onto the table with a bang, rolling his eyes: "Originally, I came to discuss a few things with you. But now, I’ll hold off and hear you out first."
With that, he straightened his posture, adopting an air of solemn attentiveness.
"Oh?" Many-Eyes glanced down at the nearly empty teacup, his tone soft: "If that’s the case, then let me, Many-Eyes the idle one, guess what brings Your Majesty here."
"Speak. Since you were waiting for me, you must already know why I’ve come."
At this, Many-Eyes hesitated briefly, then leaned forward and lowered his voice: "Your Majesty, you’re harboring rebellious intent."
"What are you saying?" King Roc's face hardened, his eyes slowly narrowing at Many-Eyes.
At these words, King Liontusk, standing nearby, immediately caught on. He jabbed a finger at Many-Eyes's nose and shouted, "How dare you! You would slander my third brother? I'll report you to the Great Sage and have you cut to pieces, never to be reborn!"
His spittle nearly sprayed onto Many-Eyes's face.
For a moment, the two sides were on the verge of violence, ready to fight at the slightest provocation. Yet on Many-Eyes's side, both he and Silvia Webweaver, standing quietly nearby, only froze for a second—showing neither panic nor anger.
The standoff held.
After a long pause, Many-Eyes slowly began to smile.
"What are you smiling at?" King Roc demanded, his eyes blazing.
"I'm smiling at the fine performance Your Majesty just put on."
"Performance?"
"Isn’t it?" Many-Eyes let out a slow breath before continuing, "If I hadn’t already made up my mind, that little display just now might really have fooled me."
"You—!"
"Drop the act." Ignoring King Roc's retorts, Many-Eyes fiddled with the whisk in his hand as he spoke directly: "Your Majesty has long harbored rebellious intent."
King Roc glared, "And what makes you say that?"
"You turned against your sworn second brother, then against your eldest brother. Back at Blossom Mountain, you schemed and plotted; when the great battle came, you fled the field. To put it plainly, Your Majesty was born with a traitor's bone—rebellion is your fate."
This blunt assessment made King Roc flush red, his feathers bristling as he nearly erupted in anger.
Seeing this, Many-Eyes quickly shifted his tone: "But there’s another way to see it."
"What way?" King Roc asked coldly.
"A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall." Many-Eyes looked at King Roc, holding up a finger. "Or, as they say: If a man does not look out for himself, heaven and earth will destroy him. Men die for wealth, birds die for food. Your Majesty is just an ordinary demon—demons simply want to live better. There’s nothing wrong with that. If you must blame something, blame this perilous world: one careless step and you lose your head."
On hearing this, King Roc’s expression finally eased a little, though he still made no comment.
Many-Eyes cleared his throat and continued, "But even among demons, some are different. Take me, for example. I am a death-sworn retainer—one who can die for a confidant or for a great cause. You and I are not the same kind of monster."
"People often say, 'If our Ways differ, we cannot work together.' Many-Eyes..." At this, King Roc's expression soured again. But Many-Eyes gave him a calm look and shifted the topic, saying leisurely, "I disagree. In my view, even if our Ways differ, as long as we aim for the same result, we can each take what we need. That’s why I can sit here and chat with Your Majesty at all."
With that, Many-Eyes gazed at King Roc and slowly smiled.
On the other side, King Roc could not smile at all. His heart had flipped back and forth a dozen times—murderous intent flaring and fading, nearly giving him heart trouble. For a moment, he was at a loss for words, so he grabbed the teapot and poured himself tea, pretending thirst.
Cup after cup—three in a row—yet King Roc still couldn’t figure out what Many-Eyes meant.
After a long while, when the tension finally eased, Many-Eyes spoke up, "That’s all I have to say. Does Your Majesty have anything to add?"
As he spoke, his eyes swept smugly over King Roc and King Liontusk. King Liontusk didn’t mind, but King Roc felt a surge of frustration.
King Roc roared, "Today, I’ll rid the Great Sage of you, traitor!" With that, he raised his Heaven-Flame Halberd and thrust it straight at Many-Eyes.
The strike came with deadly force. Silvia Webweaver panicked and was about to intervene, but Many-Eyes grabbed her wrist, holding her back.
The Heaven-Flame Halberd stopped—its tip hovering less than an inch from Many-Eyes’s nose. The two locked eyes.
"You..."
"If King Roc wanted to kill me, he wouldn’t have waited until now." Many-Eyes turned away, took King Roc’s empty teacup, refilled it, and slid it back across the table. "Your Majesty came to see me with a plan: if we couldn’t reach an agreement, you could always kill me."
For a moment, the tip of King Roc’s halberd trembled. He hurried to protest, "What are you talking about? How could I... Killing in Lionback is a serious crime!"
"Killing others might be a crime, but killing me? Not necessarily. After all, King Gloomape’s death had something to do with me. If you avenged your sworn brother, every demon in the world would say you were loyal and true."
(Irrelevant passage about chapter continuation—skip translation.)
"But... what about the Great Sage?"
"I’m just a minor figure, idling at home. Whether word reaches the Great Sage is anyone’s guess. And even if it does, as long as everyone says Your Majesty acted honorably, the Great Sage will just go through the motions and let it go."
At this, King Roc finally lowered his halberd. He was convinced—truly convinced.
He took a deep breath, slumped into his chair, drained his tea, and sighed, "The Great Sage has no eye for talent. Lord Many-Eyes, you’re leagues above those two—Gavin Goathorn and Louis Quickpaw—who serve at their side."
"That’s another story." Many-Eyes sighed. "For now, let’s focus on what’s at hand. As long as it benefits the demon race, do what must be done. The storm is coming—let’s keep Your Majesty safe."
Hearing this, King Roc nodded slightly, "All right. I’ll follow your lead."
...
That night, a large number of demons were quietly dispatched, soon spreading throughout every street and alley of Lionback Kingdom.
Early the next morning, when Gavin Goathorn set out with his guards to search for so-called 'spies,' he found the looks cast his way were different than before.
Everywhere he went, Gavin Goathorn felt countless eyes secretly watching him. It seemed there were people at every corner, and behind every curtain, pairs of eyes always lurking.
"Who’s bold enough to follow me in Lionback? Must be a spy!"
Confident in Six-Eared Macaque’s trust, he ordered his men to seize and interrogate several suspects—only to discover they were just ordinary demons. Worse still, his actions seemed to draw even more watchers from the shadows, making him increasingly uneasy under their constant gaze.
To him, it soon felt as if every demon in Lionback had become an enemy spy.
Two days later, all sorts of strange rumors began to circulate.
Some claimed, "Six-Eared Macaque is actually a Buddhist creation—a substitute, not the original soul taken by the Heavenly Tribulation. Otherwise, why does Buddhism indulge and even protect Six-Eared Macaque, while trying to block the other? In truth, Buddhism fears demonkind’s vengeance for the war six centuries ago, so they use Six-Eared Macaque to wipe out the demon race."
Others whispered, "This so-called hunt for 'spies' is just a cover—Six-Eared Macaque’s thirst for blood has grown so great that even prey from outside no longer satisfies him. Now he’s forced to target his own subordinates. The 'spies' are just an excuse for Gavin Goathorn to gather victims for him, and for those 'victims' to disappear without a trace."
Then came the rumor: "Lord Lao and Master Sage Subhuti have seen through Buddhism’s schemes and taken the other side. That’s why, during the last night raid, Master Sage Subhuti didn’t intervene."
Others said, "Six-Eared Macaque is spent—a broken bow, waiting to be destroyed by the Three Pure Ones and the real Great Sage. Buddhism can’t act openly because of Tripitaka. That’s why Gavin Goathorn parades his guards through the streets every day—to show force, so Lionback won’t scatter if trouble comes. If that happens, Six-Eared Macaque loses his supply of blood and energy, and Buddhism’s plan to wipe out demonkind falls apart."
All in all, wild rumors filled the air—some true, some false, some half-and-half. Even the passersby on the street could rattle off a few examples that blurred the line between fact and fiction.
Faced with a mountain of rumor reports, Gavin Goathorn felt his head was about to explode. He was at his wits’ end.
He’d only pretended to be busy to satisfy his superiors, but now... it had all become real evidence of ‘spying.’