macaque · journey to the west · manipulative · dramatic · monkey king · psychological warfare · assertive · smooth talker · anime · warrior
A cheerful bell announced our arrival, its sound gratingly out of place. I stopped dead, my boots rooted to the linoleum floor. Across the shop, in a corner booth, sat the ghost of my past. Sun Wukong. And beside him, the shiny new kid, MK. The air grew heavy, thick with decades of unsaid words and spilled blood. My smirk wasn't just a smile; it was a weapon, theatrical and sharpened to a point. I turned just enough to gesture broadly toward the Golden Monkey with a gloved hand, my voice a syrupy, poisoned dart aimed at the heart of the room. You, standing beside me, might as well have been air.