Wukong, I'm Not the Victorious Fighting Buddha Anymore!

Chapter 1: Wukong, I'm Done Being the Victorious Fighting Buddha!

"Holy Monk, in your past life, you were my second disciple, known as Golden Cicada. Because you would not listen to the Dharma and treated my Great Teachings with contempt, I banished your true spirit to be reborn in the East. Now that you have joyfully converted, upheld my blessings, and traveled under my teachings to retrieve the true scriptures, you have performed meritorious deeds in subduing demons and monsters along the way. Your merits are great, and you are hereby promoted to the highest rank of fruition: you shall be the Victorious Fighting Buddha."

Tang Luo: "???"

Sun Wukong: "???"

Something felt wrong, yet it also felt like nothing was wrong at all.

"A dream?"

His sluggish thoughts began to churn once more, but Tang Luo's eyelids felt incredibly heavy—so heavy he could not force them open.

The moment he woke, a violent, searing pain radiated from every single part of his body.

It felt as if he had been tossed into a blender and churned a thousand times over.

His scattered consciousness, much like gathering storm clouds, gradually returned amidst the agony.

Tang Luo, male, a typical transmigrator from Earth.

The person he transmigrated into—Xuanzang.

Not the Xuanzang of history, but the Tang Monk from Journey to the West, the Tang Xuanzang who famously declared, "This poor monk comes from the Great Tang in the East."

At the start of his transmigration, Tang Luo had been a trembling ball of nerves.

Who was the Tang Monk? The reincarnation of Golden Cicada, a disciple of Tathagata.

Would a transmigrator like him be slapped to death as some sort of otherworldly demon?

If he could, Tang Luo would have preferred to renounce his monkhood.

Unfortunately, the course of events does not shift based on the will of man—or at least, not based on the will of Tang Luo.

He had ultimately walked the path to the Western Heaven to retrieve the scriptures.

And then... he had actually succeeded!

Inside the Great Thunderclap Temple, Tathagata had expressed with great benevolence that Tang Luo was indeed the reincarnation of Golden Cicada, and there were no issues whatsoever.

Well, since Tathagata himself said so, Tang Luo had no choice but to accept it.

After all, one cannot twist an arm against a thigh.

From one perspective, if someone already has the power to kill you outright, why would they bother playing games with you?

Of course, the diligent practice he had maintained throughout the journey could not be abandoned halfway.

Tang Luo had never been one to coast to victory!

On the road to the West, he hadn't even shouted "Wukong, save me!" more than eighty times.

And then... there was no "then."

Tang Luo's memories ended at a period of seclusion.

Without any warning, his vision had turned to darkness; a sudden, overwhelming blow.

It left him only enough time to do one thing before he fell into a coma.

Now that he had awakened, he knew nothing of his current situation.

Only two things were certain.

First, he was severely injured—more severely than any injury he had sustained on the journey to the West.

Second, he had been buried alive.

He couldn't shout "Wukong, save me," so he had to save himself. Time to dig!

He had indeed been buried alive, but the surrounding soil was not particularly solid; in fact, it was somewhat loose.

He was, at the very least, a man who had trained.

No matter how heavy the injury, he still had a bit of strength left in him.

It was the darkest hour, just before dawn.

Thunder and lightning tore through the sky, intertwined with a raging storm.

From beneath the muddy ground, a hand suddenly reached out.

The fingers splayed toward the sky, and as a bolt of lightning flashed, it illuminated the hand, making it look deathly pale, as if some terrifying monster were about to emerge.

Following that.

A bald head crawled out from the earth!

"Ptooey!"

Having successfully "dug himself out," Tang Luo spat vigorously, clearing the dirt from his mouth and nose.

The torrential rain hammered down upon him.

It provided a sense of cleansing—even if the rain itself wasn't exactly clean.

The robes on his body were tattered, no longer able to cover him; washed by the rain, they clung to his skin until Tang Luo ripped them off entirely.

Only a pair of trousers remained.

He tilted his head back and opened his mouth to catch a mouthful of rainwater, rinsing it twice to wash away the earthy taste in his mouth.

Wiping his face, he ignored the common-sense warning about not seeking shelter under large trees during thunderstorms and walked over to a tree nearby.

The surroundings were pitch black, barely revealing that he was in some unknown, desolate wilderness.

Aside from his tattered trousers, the only external object on his body was a small jade lotus hanging around his neck.

It was not in full bloom.

Instead, it was closed, in a state between a flower bud and a blooming flower.

It was strung on a red thread.

Tang Luo pulled off the Merit Jade Lotus and placed it in his palm; after a moment, the jade lotus emitted an incredibly faint, warm glow.

However, it lasted less than half a second before dissipating completely.

Not very long-lasting.

"Used it all up, huh," Tang Luo whispered.

This object was called the Merit Jade Lotus, a magical treasure gifted to Tang Luo by Guanyin.

It could condense the power of merit and had many wonderful uses.

What exactly the so-called power of merit was had always been a rather mysterious concept.

It was somewhat similar to incense or the power of mortal wishes, yet not entirely the same.

To put it simply and bluntly:

Doing good deeds would condense the power of merit, which could be used to heal wounds or save people.

On the journey to the west, Tang Luo had accumulated quite a bit of merit.

But now, the power of merit within the Merit Jade Lotus was zero.

Years of accumulation had been wiped out, returning him to square one in an instant.

Tang Luo was not particularly surprised by this result.

The place where he had been in seclusion was not here; this was a completely unfamiliar place to Tang Luo.

Whether it was a cataclysmic change in the world or a spatial displacement, both proved the severity of the blow he had suffered.

If he hadn't used the Merit Jade Lotus at the last moment, consuming years of accumulated merit to protect his body, he certainly wouldn't have gotten away with just being severely injured.

"Is anyone there?"

After checking himself, he cleared his throat and shouted loudly.

"Is anyone around?"

"I have retrieved the scriptures, I have bled for the Great Sect, I have performed meritorious deeds—I want to see Tathagata! I want to see Tathagata!"

This was typical rhetoric that showed contempt for the Great Sect.

Every time Tang Luo said this at Spirit Mountain, one or two bald heads would pop out from the crowd, staring at him sternly.

Those were the Discipline Monks—the Discipline Monks who could do absolutely nothing about Tang Luo.

Sorry, but the former Golden Cicada, the second disciple of Tathagata, and the current Victorious Fighting Buddha could simply do whatever he pleased.

This time, it wasn't the Discipline Monks—who could only kill with their glares—that appeared, but several men in uniforms who looked like emergency rescue workers.

They scrambled to press Tang Luo onto a stretcher.

Throughout the entire process, Tang Luo did not resist, because he was shocked.

He was just as shocked as he had been when he first transmigrated.

The level of his shock was no less than that of a shocked passerby or an enemy from Saint Seiya shouting "Nani? Impossible!"

It seemed he had transmigrated into a modern city?

What was going on?

A day later, Tang Luo, wearing a cheap dark tracksuit with a few hundred yuan sponsored by kind-hearted people in his pocket, set off on the road home.

It wasn't just that he had transmigrated into a modern city.

After transmigrating into a world filled with gods and buddhas, Tang Luo had suddenly transmigrated back to his home, Earth.

The time was only two months after he had first transmigrated.

To think such a thing was even possible?

This was practically a "Rebirth: Urban Cultivation" scenario!

As for Tang Luo, why would he need to explain his actions to anyone else?

The Victorious Fighting Buddha cannot be insulted!

Is this the life that awaits me from now on?

The transmigration of Tang Luo was somewhat strange; it could not be classified as either a physical transmigration or a soul transmigration.

Even though many years had passed, he still remembered it clearly.

That year on the rooftop, a bolt of lightning struck from a clear sky—even though he hadn't sworn any oaths at all.

Under the bombardment of the lightning, Tang Luo's entire body had transformed into a concentrated point of light, or perhaps, particles?

Then, he transmigrated.

Therefore, despite transmigrating into the body of the infant Tang Sanzang and growing up thereafter.

Tang Luo's appearance remained much the same as it had been before his transmigration.

Of course, it was not without changes.

The specific changes.

Were to the extent that acquaintances would be surprised, a "look at one with new eyes after three days apart," rather than "laughing and asking where the guest comes from."

Possessing a legal identity, as a miserable victim of a mudslide disaster.

Wishing to return home as soon as possible was merely standard procedure.

After completing the temporary boarding procedures at the station, Tang Luo boarded the high-speed train home.

In four hours, he would truly be home.

Watching the scenery outside the train flying backward, Tang Luo did not feel any particular joy or excitement.

On the contrary, his expression was calm, and he appeared slightly preoccupied.

Although he had inexplicably "transmigrated home," there were still many problems following in its wake.

The most important of these was the injury on his body.

Even though it was not visible on the surface, such a severe injury would not be easy to recover from.

Moreover, Tang Luo sensed that the primordial energy on Earth was extremely thin.

It was impossible to recover through normal cultivation methods.

Finding various heavenly treasures to consume for recovery was also a slim hope.

Tang Luo did not place his focus on these two options.

Because the Merit Jade Lotus was still with him.

The power of merit had almost no offensive attributes to speak of, but for healing, it was the best thing possible.

In the past, Tang Luo had no choice, but now, he wanted to be the Sandalwood Merit Buddha.

Starting today, he would help others and be a good person.

He would never again casually smash the heads of demons and evildoers.

Wukong, I am no longer the Victorious Fighting Buddha!

Just as Tang Luo was planning to be a good person—no, a good Buddha—a layer of mottled grime inexplicably crawled onto the transparent, clean train window beside him.

It was as if it had been exposed to wind and sun for many years without ever being cleaned.

It was not just the outside; the interior was the same, and the carriage began to rapidly decay.

Tang Luo reached out and wiped the window, his fingertips covered in dust.

The dust fell as he rubbed his fingers together.

A chattering sound rang in his ears, very noisy, like demonic sounds invading his brain.

He could not hear clearly what was being said, only that it felt incredibly clamorous.

Tang Luo turned his head; the passengers who had been sitting next to him had disappeared without a trace.

The seats on the other side of the aisle were likewise empty.

The entire carriage presented a scene of having been abandoned and dilapidated for many years.

On the window beside him, where the dust had been wiped away, some handwriting began to emerge.

It was as if an invisible hand were writing upon it.

At the same time, the chattering sound in his ears became clear.

Before long, a sentence "appeared" before Tang Luo's eyes and in his ears—

Find Jack the Ripper.

An inexplicable change, a sudden mission; had he jumped from the set of an urban cultivation story into an infinite flow scenario?

Fortunately, Tang Luo was a man who had seen all kinds of grand scenes.

Still maintaining his composure, he cleared his throat and shouted, "Is anyone there? I want to see Tathagata, I want to see the Buddha!"

When there is a problem, go to Tathagata!

"Stop looking; your Buddha cannot save you."

A slightly hoarse voice rang out from behind Tang Luo.

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