Chapter 1054: Writing

“The monkey… learns human language,” the serpent murmured slowly.

“Exactly,” Chen Junnan replied. “It might take a long time—sixty, seventy years—but at least there’s a visible end.”

“That means the monkey must see itself as human,” the serpent said. “A problem rooted in its subconscious.”

“Maybe it’s already past that stage,” Chen Junnan countered.

“You think…” The serpent fixed his gaze on Chen Junnan. “That monkey is currently writing *Macbeth*?”

“I don’t think so,” Chen Junnan answered, meeting his stare.

“What…?” The serpent’s eyes flickered beneath the mask, as if frowning. “The monkey already sees itself as human. That means it’s learned human language and knows what humans desire—yet it *isn’t* writing *Macbeth*?”

“Right…” Chen Junnan’s expression darkened. “From my interactions with that monkey and the reactions of various ‘humans,’ I suspect it’s writing something else entirely.”

“You mean…”

“*Macbeth* is a path already walked. The room’s master believes that if the monkey can write *Macbeth*, it would be extraordinary. But that monkey is composing something else—the collective anguish of all monkeys imprisoned in that room. A masterpiece only it could create.”

The serpent stood frozen, silent for a long moment.

He had entertained many hypotheses, the boldest being that the monkey had begun writing *Macbeth* on its own.

But he had never considered the possibility that it was writing something else.

Something that would shock the room’s master—something entirely unlike *Macbeth*.

So it seems eager to escape, yet unwilling?

It seems eager to become godlike, yet unwilling?

“Snake, do you know what *Macbeth* is about?” Chen Junnan asked.

“You… actually know?” the serpent retorted.

“Funny you should ask—I do,” Chen Junnan said. “I went through a phase of binge-watching plays and happened to catch *Macbeth*. In short, it’s about Macbeth and his queen resorting to tyranny and slaughter to keep the throne, becoming cruel and insane despots—only to be overthrown.”

“Ah…?” The serpent had only ever considered the question as an allegory for the “Land of the End,” but now he realized even *Macbeth* carried deeper implications.

“So tell me, why would a sane person guide a group of monkeys to write a story about overthrowing tyranny?” Chen Junnan mused. “The suffering of these monkeys *is* tyranny. If they truly learn human thought and language, the first ones to suffer will be humans themselves.”

The serpent lowered his head and muttered, “So he’s already reached that point…”

The eeriness of the Land of the End lay in how some stories were barely beginning in some people’s minds, while in others’ memories, they were already nearing their conclusion.

The serpent exhaled deeply and turned to Kim Won-hoon.

“…?”

Kim blinked. “What’s up, bro?”

“Isn’t this a quiz?” the serpent said. “What’s your answer?”

Had the serpent not reminded him, Kim would’ve completely forgotten this was a game. He quickly furrowed his brows. “Oh! Bro… I think the answer is…”

Three seconds later, he blinked again. “Bro, what was the question?”

“He asked how the monkey escapes,” Chen Junnan said, shaking his head.

“Oh… right, bro.” Kim nodded. “I think… monkeys can kill people, yeah?”

“…?”

The serpent and Chen Junnan exchanged glances. Chen nearly hissed but held back.

He glanced at the serpent, who also refrained from hissing this time.

“An *infinite* number of monkeys!” Kim continued. “Just gang up and kill the guy. Simple, right?”

“Uh…”

“Or even just ten monkeys!” Kim added. “That’s enough to kill one person, yeah?”

Chen Junnan felt an odd twinge.

Kim wasn’t stupid—he just seemed slow due to the language barrier.

Though his answer sounded absurd, both Chen and the serpent had been framing the question within the context of the Land of the End, never returning to its core premise.

In the Land of the End, the room’s master was a “god.” Even if all mortals united against them, even if they were infinite in number, victory wasn’t guaranteed.

But the question itself was about monkeys and a human.

If one human imprisoned an infinite number of monkeys, forcing them into meaningless labor—why wouldn’t they rebel?

Maybe Kim wasn’t as dense as he seemed, or perhaps he simply hadn’t overthought it like the other two. To him, the solution was straightforward:

Kill the room’s master. A few minutes—no, just one monkey taking the lead, and the rest would swarm. Freedom achieved.

Come to think of it, wasn’t that what many cities had attempted before their downfall?

Their failure stemmed from not thinking deeply enough—because their relationship with their rulers wasn’t that of monkeys and humans, but ants and fire.

Even if this answer was proven wrong elsewhere, in this specific question, it was correct. Both Chen Junnan and the serpent realized this simultaneously.

The serpent blinked and turned to Chen Junnan.

Chen stiffened, quickly averting his gaze.

The serpent sighed and shifted slightly, forcing eye contact.

Seeing no escape, Chen grinned awkwardly. “Hey, what’s up, Snake?”

“Game’s over,” the serpent said. “You only got one question right, but chatting with you was enlightening. I’ve learned things I never knew before…”

“Cut the flattery,” Chen scoffed. “Snake, you’re really giving the kid the win? How do I explain this back home?”

“Tell them I rigged it,” the serpent said. “Say I bullied you in front of the kid—slapped you twenty times, even.”

“…?” Chen frowned. “Why?”

“Then Qi Xia *has* to avenge you, right?” the serpent said. “He’ll come after me, and our deal will finally be settled.”

Chen sighed, nodding. He reached into his pocket, clenched his fist, and placed something in Kim’s hand.

“Won-hoon, I leave the kid in your care.”

With a desolate expression, Chen stood and made for the door—until Kim yanked him back by the wrist.

“It’s fine, Won-hoon,” Chen said. “No need to stop me. My mind’s made up.”

“Bro, you just gave me a chain.”

“Oh? Hah…” Chen chuckled. “Didn’t fool you, huh? Here…”

After hesitating, he pulled out a “bag” from his pocket.

“Won-hoon, this is all I’ve got—this ‘bag.'”

Kim snatched the “character” away. “Thanks, bro.”