Lu Zhishen asked Sun Wukong, “Brother, why doesn’t that black stick of yours preach Buddhist principles?”
Sun Wukong raised his AK.
“It does.”
Lu Zhishen asked,
“What does it preach?”
“Physics.”
“Rat-a-tat!”
The first shot shattered the evil talisman on the ruined temple gate.
The black mist faltered.
“Rat-a-tat!”
The second shot punched through the bronze alms bowl in Cui Daocheng’s hands.
The bowl exploded, splashing black water all over his face.
“Rat-a-tat!”
The third shot snapped the little string of bones hanging from the beam.
Bones clattered to the ground.
The Hungry Ghost Fiend seemed to have been grabbed by the throat, and half of it abruptly dispersed.
Cui Daocheng was dumbfounded.
I transmigrated into a messed-up game world that mashed together Journey to the West and Water Margin, and became Sun Wukong. The only companion who came with me was a “Doubao” that could only boost my mood. It suggested I become the Victorious Fighting Buddha, but I’d rather be an underworld kingpin! I’ll trample Song Jiang, take on the Tathagata, and control the game between the two worlds. No one gets to push me around! I’ll fight my way through the Three Realms, and I’m protecting Jinlian!
Except...
I later discovered that I wasn’t the only one who had transmigrated!
They all want to change their own fates…
