Wukong slowly lowered the fan, observing Vergil with a look that mixed amusement and exasperation—the kind of look of someone accustomed to dealing with his stubbornness.
"Are you serious?" Vergil asked, frowning. "Don't tell me that agreement was real."
Wukong sighed, the fan closing with a soft snap.
"Real enough to give half a pantheon a headache," she replied, her voice calm and serene, but with a touch of irony. "Wu Tian is about to arrive. He's going to fight on the side of Buddhism."
Vergil raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wu Tian?" he repeated, as if the name meant nothing to him. "Who the hell is that?"
Wukong was silent for a moment. Her—or his, depending on how one wanted to see the Monkey King—gaze became slightly impatient.
"Have you forgotten?" she asked, shaking her head slowly.
Vergil crossed his arms and waited.
"Enlighten my memory."
Wukong let out a small nasal laugh, but there was something sincere in the sound—a pang of nostalgia perhaps.
