Wukong watched as Xu Linglong gently traced the black blade with her fingers, acutely aware of her gaze fixed upon him.
Yet he understood—this was nothing but a blatant threat.
If killing the Pig Mask wasn’t enough, then Donggua could die too.
Either answer and let the mission proceed, or all perish, and the mission fails.
Striking down their own without hesitation—all to force an answer that might simply require patience to uncover.
After piecing together the intelligence provided by Chu Xingchen, Wukong responded:
"The Supreme One suspects that the fall of the Eastern Victory Divine Continent may have involved betrayal from within. By his order, I am to protect the last two who hold critical information and assist them in uncovering the traitor."
Xu Linglong nodded in understanding, her tone light and breezy:
"It’s been some time, and with a Buddha’s disciple like you aiding them, surely you’ve gathered some leads?"
Wukong shook his head. "None whatsoever."
Xu Linglong’s eyes shifted to Donggua, kneeling nearby.
Sensing the weight of that gaze, Donggua stammered:
"Th-there really isn’t any."
"Oh?" Xu Linglong’s voice dripped with feigned curiosity. "I overheard some of your earlier exchange. Is it that you refuse to cooperate with this disciple of Buddha… or, as he claims, that you care little for our cause, merely dragging out your days?"
Her tone was mild, almost as if asking whether they’d eaten breakfast.
But to Donggua, it sounded like: This useless dog might as well be stewed.
"This subordinate didn’t recognize this monk. He showed no trace of demonic energy—how could I know he wasn’t a spy trying to infiltrate us? How could I trust him blindly?"
Donggua dared not hide anything, laying bare her thoughts while subtly shifting blame for incompetence elsewhere.
Xu Linglong nodded approvingly, then turned back to Wukong, her voice sweetly innocent:
"She makes a fair point. Even I can’t discern your true nature."
"You’re called Donggua, right? Tell me—how can we establish simple trust?"
Though her words sounded foolish, Donggua knew this was a veiled command. She had to answer, with no room for evasion:
"At the very least, we must confirm he is one of us!"
Xu Linglong smiled in satisfaction, then fell silent, watching Wukong expectantly.
After a moment’s assessment—confirming he stood little chance against Xu Linglong—Wukong spoke calmly:
"I cannot demonstrate."
"Oh?" Xu Linglong lifted the black blade, her tone deceptively gentle. "Is it that you cannot… or that you will not?"
"The Supreme One has placed a seal upon me. I cannot, and must not, reveal myself," Wukong replied evenly.
"The Buddha’s teachings are vast as the clouds. If we could be so easily seen through, how could we remain secure? My stance remains: if you doubt me, you may inquire directly."
Xu Linglong ignored him, instead asking Donggua:
"Given his answer, should we believe him or not?"
"Not!"
Donggua’s reply came swift—whether out of spite or genuine suspicion.
Xu Linglong nodded again, raising the blade slightly, as if her next strike would claim the monk’s head.
Wukong remained unshaken.
If Xu Linglong truly meant to kill him, words were pointless—he’d defend himself.
If she couldn’t see through him, she wouldn’t act rashly. Stalemate suited him fine.
Besides, the indirect exchange had yielded useful clues.
Only the matter of reporting back to Chu Xingchen posed a problem.
Clutching the golden gourd, Wukong met Xu Linglong’s gaze without flinching, letting the silence stretch cold and heavy.
Finally, Xu Linglong broke it, her voice now icy:
"How typical of a branded demon—forgetting even the most basic rules. Before this seat, why do you not kneel?"
She removed her hat, revealing her true visage—stern, her eyes brimming with menace.
The earlier debate over authenticity was now discarded. This was pure discipline.
Wukong’s voice stayed calm. "Cloaked in Buddha’s form, I cannot kneel. Stripped of it, I would pay proper homage."
Xu Linglong’s expression softened instantly, a smile playing on her lips.
"In that case, let it be."
"By the way, how fares your side? Any news to share?"
Wukong seamlessly spun a lie:
"All is dire. With the emergence of the Bright Buddha, the pressure on our sect is immense. The Supreme One’s plans are hindered at every turn. Now, only he holds full knowledge of affairs."
He knew no details, but painting things bleakly excused many irregularities.
No reinforcements? Desperate measures? All could be blamed on the crisis.
Xu Linglong nodded sympathetically, as if accepting his words.
Both harbored questions, each probing for answers.
Xu Linglong sought to learn the Buddha faction’s stance—were they turning traitor?
Wukong aimed to uncover the traitor within the Buddha’s ranks.
Their dialogue was a dance of implications.
In the end, neither gained what they sought.
Donggua remained kneeling, absorbing every word.
She heard clearly—yet understood nothing.
This only tightened her dread. Comprehension might have offered a sliver of hope.
But ignorance meant uselessness.
Her breathing grew slightly ragged.
Xu Linglong seemed to tire of the exchange, steering toward business:
"Since you’ve come to aid, working together to investigate would be wise. Clarity benefits us all."
Wukong nodded vigorously in agreement.
Seeing her last chance slip away, Donggua blurted out—not in human speech, but in the guttural, twisted tongue of demons:
"Master, he may not even speak our tongue. He might not be one of us."
Xu Linglong’s gaze flicked over, her expression unchanging. She continued smoothly:
"Enough. I vouch for him. You will serve as his subordinate henceforth. Expedite the investigation into the Eastern Victory Divine Continent. No further delays."
Donggua’s throat constricted. Her mind raced—but she could only submit:
"...Yes."
Without another word, Xu Linglong turned and left.
Only the two remained—one kneeling, one standing—and the lifeless Pig Mask sprawled nearby.
Donggua exhaled heavily as her essence stabilized, slumping to the ground. Her eyes lifted to Wukong.
Wukong met her gaze, a faint smile forming as his voice twisted into the same grotesque cadence of demon-speak:
"I do speak your tongue."
Donggua was taken aback upon hearing the unmistakably fluent demonic tongue, then noticed the faint smile on Wukong's face.
Wukong’s gaze shifted to the lifeless boar-masked figure before he resumed speaking in common speech:
"Burn him thoroughly first. Leave no traces."
With that, he turned and walked away.
This demon really underestimates people.
Since he’s infiltrating their ranks, learning their language was a given. For Wukong, obtaining materials on the demonic tongue was hardly a challenge.
Now then…
Once he’s exposed, there’s bound to be traces left behind.
Perhaps he could even trace it back to someone—or at least narrow down the suspects.
He had already prepared a method to relay the intelligence he uncovered directly to the Bright Buddha.
As for offering his own body to the demons…
What did it matter?
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
【Prologue: The Beginning of It All – Use holy water to heal the saintess tainted by demonic energy, then converse with her.】 Shen Nian stared at his older sister sipping yogurt, lost in thought. So you’re telling me my sister is the saintess, and yogurt is the holy water? 【Main Quest 1: Brave Youth, Become an Adventurer! Reward: Rookie Adventurer Title.】 【Side Quest 1: Find the Adorable Kitty! Reward: 1000 Gold Coins.】 Shen Nian: "Wait, I’m a high school senior here—did some guy who got isekai’d accidentally bind his system to me?" Hold on, completing quests gives gold rewards? Titles even boost stats? Is this for real? (A lighthearted, absurd campus comedy—not a revenge power fantasy.)
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
