"1… 8… 29… 100… 290… 368… 400…"
Haru's arms finally gave out, and he let himself drop flat on the grass with a heavy thud.
"Phew! That's the good kind of burn," he muttered, staring up at the sky, chest rising and falling as sweat soaked through his shirt. "Almost hit five hundred this time…"
He rolled over, groaning dramatically, then shot up with a stretch and a jump like the burn hadn't even happened. "Ahhh, what an amazing workout."
He slung his old spear over his shoulder and looked toward the setting sun with a squint. "Tch… already getting dark. Better head back before Old Man Gar starts yelling about wolves again."
As he started down the trail toward the village, he let out a low chuckle.
"Shishishi… he'll probably still be braggin' about that time he 'punched a Minotaur in the nose' or whatever…"
The village of Ronen wasn't much—just a tight cluster of homes, smoke drifting from crooked chimneys, and folks who knew everyone else's business. Haru had lived here his whole life, seventeen years and counting, though not by choice. Reincarnation dropped him here, and for a while, it was a peaceful ride.
But peace gets boring when you've got muscle, curiosity, and nothing better to do.
As Haru passed by, a few familiar faces greeted him with nods.
"Back from training again?" asked Marla, the baker's wife, dusting flour off her apron.
"Yup. Beat my record," Haru said proudly, tapping his chest. "Might be too strong for this village now."
Marla rolled her eyes. "Just don't break anything on your way out."
Further down, he spotted a lump of a man leaning against a tavern wall—half-asleep, as usual. Boro.
"Boooooro!" Haru shouted with a wave.
Boro opened one eye. "…What?"
"I'm finally leavin'. For real this time."
Boro scratched his belly. "Sure. You'll be back by dinner."
"Nah, this time's different. I'm headin' to Orario."
Boro raised an eyebrow. "You mean that place with all the gods and freaks with glowing swords?"
"Yup. That one."
"…Packed snacks?"
"…No."
Boro tossed him a dried root from his pocket. "Then take this and shut up."
Haru caught it with a grin. "Knew you cared, big guy."
His house stood near the edge of the village, just past the old well. It was quiet. Small. Hadn't changed much since his mother passed—he'd grown into it like a plant in a cramped pot.
He stepped inside and exhaled, looking around. The floor creaked like always. Dust danced in the low sunlight.
"Seventeen years. Huh," he muttered, slinging his spear into the corner.
He didn't hate the village. It just wasn't enough anymore.
"…Alright. Guess it's time."
Haru pulled out a scrap of paper and grabbed a bit of charcoal from the hearth. After a moment of thought, he scribbled out a message.
The Note:
"Oi old man,
I'm finally heading out. Don't fall over from shock.
Thanks for teaching me stuff and letting me steal your food.
I'll send something cool if I don't die."
—Haru
He left it on the table, next to the dented mug Old Man Gar always used when visiting.
"Old fart'll pretend he didn't tear up, but I'll know."
His stomach growled. Loud.
"Right, dinner first," he muttered.
He threw together some roasted meat from his last hunt, plus whatever smoked fish and root veggies he had left. It wasn't fancy, but it hit the spot.
"Mmm, man… I'm gonna miss this junk food," he said with a grin, licking his fingers. "Been training so much lately I forget what it's like to eat without sweating first."
After the meal, he knocked out fast—arms behind his head, feet sticking out from the blanket, dreams already swirling with the unknown.
Morning came quick.
Haru was up before the sun was fully out, gear packed tight: travel rations, canteen, spare clothes, and his trusty spear. He stepped outside and took one last look at the village from his doorstep.
The cool morning air hit his face, sharp and clear.
He was halfway down the road when he saw Gar already sitting on the porch, puffing away on that same pipe, eyebrows knitted like always.
The old man sat there, puffing away on that damn pipe, staring at the horizon like he always did. Haru could've sworn he saw something different in his eyes for a second—like a flash of something that didn't quite fit the grizzled old man he was used to—but he shook it off. Probably just another one of those things that didn't matter.
"You finally settin' off?" Gar called as Haru jogged up the path.
"Yup," Haru grinned, his usual carefree smile plastered across his face.
Gar studied him for a long moment, that hawk-like gaze as sharp as ever. "You leave a note or am I supposed to guess where you ran off to?"
"You'll find it," Haru said, tossing him the folded paper with a wink. "But don't read it 'til tonight. Gotta keep the drama alive."
Gar huffed, clearly pretending to be annoyed, but his eyes softened for a moment as he tucked the note into his coat. "Hmph. Brat."
Haru was already turning away, his voice cutting through the morning air, "I know. Later, old man!"
As he jogged off, heading toward the village edge, Gar's expression shifted. Haru didn't see it, but for a brief second, Gar's wrinkled face looked… younger. His posture, slouched for so long, suddenly straightened with an almost regal poise. A golden shimmer seemed to flicker around him before it disappeared like smoke.
"Hmph… Brat's all grown up," Gar muttered to himself. He stood up slowly, stretching his arms as if shaking off years of age. "Guess he'll need this."
Gar reached up to his ear and removed a small, seemingly insignificant earring. It didn't look like much—just a simple piece of jewelry. But as Gar's fingers brushed against it, the earring began to transform, its size expanding and shifting. The earring revealed itself as the Ruyi Jingu Bang, the legendary staff of Sun Wukong—now in miniature form.
With a small smirk, Gar flicked the earring into the air, and the staff—still in its earring form—flew through the air with pinpoint precision. It sailed gracefully, and despite the distance, it landed perfectly inside Haru's bag, unnoticed.
The old man sighed, his usual playful grin replaced by something more serious. "My break's over, I guess."
Gar stood up, stretching his limbs with ease. "Time for the brat to move on."
As he moved, the village—his village—began to fade. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, the houses flickered like a mirage. Haru, still walking away, didn't notice at all. He was lost in thought, thinking about his journey ahead.
Gar stood up, stretching his limbs with ease. "Time for the brat to move on."
As he moved, the village—his village—began to fade. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, the houses flickered like a mirage. Haru, already far beyond the village edge, didn't notice a thing. He was lost in thought, eyes set on the path ahead.
Behind him, the illusion unraveled. Empty streets blurred and shimmered. The trees swayed without wind. The ground gave a subtle tremble, as if reality itself was exhaling. But Haru was too far to feel it, too far to hear the silence that followed.
Gar—no, Wukong—watched him go, a quiet pride in his now-youthful eyes.
"Don't worry, brat," he said softly, his voice fading into the wind. "You've got your own path now."
And just like that, Wukong vanished.
The village, the people, everything Haru had known in this place—gone.
All of it had been a lie.
All of it had been for him.
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AN/
Thoughts on the chapter? I decided to add that little twist at the end since, admittedly, I'm not that great at writing background characters.
But uhh, yeah—let me know if you guys think the Ruyi Jingu Bang is too overpowered for this world.
It'll be more of a slightly watered-down version, though. I'll share what I have in mind for it in the comments. Hope you guys are enjoying things so far!