Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
"Come on... Come on... COME ON! WHAT THE HECK! THIS BOSS IS PURE TORTURE!"
Wei Cheng's knuckles whitened around the controller. His apartment was suffused with muted grey light—thin curtains drawn half-closed, a single bare bulb flickering overhead like a dying firefly. The rain outside tapped insistently against the windowpane, distorting the neon signs from the street below into streaks of sapphire and crimson.
On his desk, a cluster of empty instant ramen bowls teetered, their rims stained dark by old broth. The whine of the refrigerator, struggling to keep milk from spoiling, joined the chorus of ambient noise. But Wei barely noticed; his gaze was glued to the monitor.
On screen, the boss—a colossal, horned beast wreathed in swirling black mist—reared back, its six eyes glinting with malice. With a deafening roar, it slammed a lava-forged hammer into the cracked arena floor. An explosion of embers burst outward, sending Wei's digital monkey warrior flying through the air.
"ARGH!" Wei shouted, his voice hoarse. He flung himself forward on the creaky mattress, lungs burning. "How is this even humanly possible? I've learned its tells—just one more second and I can… dodge it… UGH!"
He sprang up, heart thudding, and pressed every button in a panic. The monkey spun, barely evading the hammer's molten edge, then lost its footing on crumbling stone, tumbling into a glowing pit. A wave of red calligraphy spelt out "YOU HAVE FALLEN", each stroke trailing embers that hissed like scalding oil.
Wei yanked off his headset and tossed it onto the floor. The controllers clattered against the unmade mattress, mingling with the soft clack of rain on concrete. He ran both hands over his face, pushing back strands of greasy black hair, and hissed through his teeth:
"Dammit—no, screw this," Wei growled, tossing the controller beside him. "Three goddamn hours memorizing your stupid spin attack, and you still cheat with that lava burst?! What are you, a Dark Souls boss on meth?!"
Wei Cheng let out a slow exhale, the kind that felt like it had claws dragging down his throat. His eyes stung—not from tears, but from the electric burn of screen fatigue, caffeine withdrawal, and disappointment layered like wet laundry on his chest.
He leaned back against the creaky wall, the cracked plaster flaking against his hoodie.
Grrrrr~
His stomach growled, long and low like a creature forgotten in a cave. He ignored it. Hunger had long ago become a background hum, like the fridge's buzz or the occasional car honk far below.
Wei Cheng reached for the last can of cheap energy drink, shook it—empty.
'Of course it is.'
Sigh~
Looking around for anything to eat, but all he saw were half-crushed snack wrappers, a mouldy bao bun in a crumpled napkin, and a packet of instant noodles with no hot water to cook them. He grimaced, the kind of grimace born not of disgust, but of resignation.
"Surprise surprise," he muttered. "Welcome to gourmet living, Cheng."
The flickering bulb overhead let out a soft bzzt, then dimmed for a breath. He looked up. The rain had grown heavier, drumming against the window like a restless ghost trying to be let in.
He hated this place.
Not just the cracked walls or the water-stained ceiling, or the old CRT TV humming in the corner like it had opinions. It was the stillness. The dead air. The emptiness that nested in his chest like a cold egg.
An orphan since twelve. Bounced between foster homes until he aged out. No college. Dead-end jobs. Gaming was his one escape—his one constant. That, and the strange comfort of myth. Of fantasy. Of worlds where orphans rose to become gods.
"Whatever..." Wei pulled himself up like a threadbare puppet on strings and shuffled barefoot across the freezing tile floor. The soles of his feet stuck faintly as he passed the spilt soda near the desk—another forgotten casualty of the night's frustrations.
The rain had thickened. Each drop against the windowpane struck like knuckles.
He moved toward the entrance, where a tattered umbrella leaned against the wall like an old man too tired to stand. Wei grabbed it, paused, then looked back at the screen still on. With a frustrated huff, Wei flicked off the monitor. A soft click and the screen went dark, swallowing the room in shadow. Only the dim bulb remained, casting a sickly cone of yellow light that trembled with each passing second.
He stood in the middle of the room, umbrella hanging loosely at his side, staring into nothing. The sudden silence felt heavier than the rain, like something ancient and cold pressing down on his skin.
Another low growl rolled from his stomach. This time he clutched it absently, as if comforting a child.
"Fine. I'll go out. Grab something warm. Maybe walk until the headache goes away."
His voice felt foreign in the room. Too real. Too alive. Like speaking inside a mausoleum.
He opened the door.
The hallway beyond was dimmer still—flickering lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across mold-stained walls. The air reeked of wet concrete and frying oil from the takeout joint on the ground floor. Somewhere in the distance, a baby was crying. Or maybe it was a cat.
The stairwell groaned under his weight. Old steps, chipped and uneven. The paint peeled from the walls like dead skin. By the time he reached the first floor, his breath was fogging in the air. Had it always been this cold?
He pushed open the building's front door with his shoulder. The city greeted him like an ambush—neon lights bleeding across puddled asphalt, the distant wail of sirens echoing through alleyways, and the smell of rain-washed rot clinging to the gutters.
Umbrella up. Step into the world.
The rain was colder than he expected. It soaked his jeans in seconds, pooling in his shoes. He trudged through it anyway, head down, watching the reflections ripple beneath his feet.
Arroooo!
A strong current of wind swept me, snatching the umbrella like a sudden gust stole a feather from a child's hand. It tumbled away, spinning and twisting, a dark leaf caught in a storm's breath.
"Hey! No!" I lunged, but the umbrella was already a distant blur, flapping like a ragged banner disappearing into the haze of neon rain.
The wet night seemed to close in on me, heavier, thicker, as if the air itself had grown denser—charged with something I couldn't name.
I stood there, dripping, jeans soaked to the knees, watching the empty sky swallow the last flicker of my umbrella.
Rumble! Rumble!
"Thunder, really?! You got some beef with me, huh? Jade Emperor?"
His voice cracked in the cold air.
Lightning split the sky—but it didn't strike the city, nor the slick rooftops or the tangled power lines.
No.
It arced straight toward him.
Wei Cheng froze, heart skipping a frantic beat. The brilliant jagged fork illuminated his soaked figure, the rain frozen mid-fall like silver threads shimmering in a darkened cave.
The electric crack filled the night air, sharp and alive, and yet it did not burn. Instead, it coiled.
A shimmering cage of light wrapping around his body, warm yet strange.
His breath hitched. A curious calm settled on his racing thoughts, as if some ancient part of his soul recognised the storm's touch.
This isn't right.
But before Wei could move, before the scream of thunder could shatter the night, the world twisted.
***
{Place: Mount Huaguo}
Mount Huaguo, also known as the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, nestled between heaven and earth like a forgotten jewel polished by the hands of the divine. Cloaked in layers of morning mist, the sacred mountain slumbered beneath drifting clouds and sunlight filtered through ancient boughs.
Here, every breath of wind carried the scent of sweet plums and moss. Every rock hummed with dormant Qi. Trees older than dynasties stretched their gnarled fingers toward the heavens, and hidden pools shimmered with spiritual light.
To immortals, it was just a piece of land.
But to the monkeys, it was home.
Today, something was... different.
Because a young monkey is going to prove his worth through an act of bravery, which is jumping through a water curtain cave.
And if he succeeded, he would become the king—The Monkey King.
But it's been quite some time since that young monkey jumped... but there is no sign of his return.
***
Far below the mountain, at the riverbank, a fur-covered paw clawed its way from the muddy water.
The coarse fur was slick with river grime and flecks of fresh blood. It trembled with ragged breaths, the air thick with the scent of wet earth and old leaves. The paw scraped and dug into the soil, desperate to find purchase.
The rain had slowed here, but the mist still hung low, cloaking the river's edge in a pale, ghostly veil. Water lapped softly against moss-covered stones, its gentle murmur hiding darker sounds: distant thunder, the crack of a branch underfoot, and the low growl of something watching.
The paw pulled the rest of the body forward—a lean, sinewy monkey, eyes wide and shining with both fear and disbelief.
What the hell?
Wei Cheng's thoughts cracked like the thunder still echoing in his ears. His vision swam—sharp edges melting into mist, the sharp smell of rain replaced by earth and something rawer, fiercer.
He blinked.
His body felt strange. Heavy and light at once. Like a tug of war between weight and wind.
And the ground beneath him wasn't cold tile anymore.
It was soft. Damp. Mossy.
He tried to move—but his limbs didn't respond like they used to. The fingers he willed were now… paws. Fur brushed against wet leaves. The sharp scent of river grime and distant pine filled his nose.
A hoarse rasp escaped his throat—not his voice. Something deeper. Rougher.
His heart hammered in a chest that no longer felt like his own.
He scrambled up, body awkward and unbalanced, legs folding and twisting in unfamiliar ways. A sharp bark-like cry tore from his lips, echoing against the shadowed riverbank.
For a moment, panic welled up.
What happened?
Where am I?
A sudden pulse behind his eyes—like data surging through a hard drive—and then...
[Ding! Sign-In System loading... 20%... 50%... 80%... 100%]
Just as he was lamenting his situation, a mechanical voice suddenly rang out in his head.
After being stunned for a good ten seconds, He finally snapped out of it, feeling a surge of excitement. If it weren't for the fact that his body couldn't support his jumping and screaming, he would have danced with his favourite 'Shin-chan moves'.
Eventually, He managed to get his excitement under control and calm down a bit. He asked the system, "Okay… I'm either dreaming, dead, or in a gacha hellscape. So let's hear it. What are you?"