Chapter 1245

Journey to the West.

"Master, look at that fellow in the sky curtain—how strange! In the tree courtyard he's deviating from the classics, making those old scholars stroke their beards and glare; yet once a student steps outside and does something shameful, they're not allowed to mention his name. Hehe, this guy cares about his face even more than my old pig!"

Bajie finished speaking, he kept laughing nonstop, his banana-leaf-like ears flapping up and down. But after laughing a while, he realized no one responded—not even the monkey who usually liked to argue with him—so he poked the Sand Monk with his elbow and whispered, "What, did I say something wrong, my old pig?"

The Sand Monk shook his head, silent, only looking at Wukong with his eyes.

Tang Sanzang, riding on his horse, also sensed something odd, reined in his reins, turned back, and called out, "Wukong?"

Wukong was staring blankly at the sky curtain when he heard his master's call, only then snapping out of it. He waved a hand and laughed, "Master, don't worry—I was just looking at that Ke Xia in the sky curtain, reminding myself of some unrelated old affairs. Come on, let's get moving—the journey is urgent!"

Bajie hearing Wukong's evasion, not buying it, also grew curious and stepped forward, saying, "How strange! Brother, that demigod Titan of Ur-Faross from the sky curtain isn't the first time we've seen him—why are you so engrossed this time? Could it be you've taken an interest in Ke Xia's alchemical method?"

Wukong heard that, gave him a knock on the forehead, and snapped, "You idiot, always blabbering! When have I ever envied his alchemical technique? I was just recalling the advice Ke Xia gave his disciples—it sounded familiar."

Back then the patriarch said he was "ill-fated in life," allowing him to cause havoc and commit atrocities, but forbidding him to claim he was his disciple. If he uttered even a single word, they would flay him, grind his bones, and demote his body and soul to the Nine Abysses, never to rise again through countless kalpas.

Not allowed to mention his master…

Across all heavens and myriad worlds, throughout the universe, are all good masters really like this?

——

"…Professor Ke Xia, I clearly see other classes on the schedule—did you mess something up?"

"——First, call me Professor An Ke Sa Ge La Si. Second, correct this: the final class means 'the last class I will teach.' Starting today, I will begin closed-door study of ancient alchemy; all teaching activities must make way for it."

"Bai Wu suddenly understood: "Ah, I get it. Professor, your implication is that you're mocking other teachers' courses for not being up to snuff, right?""

"Ke Xia furrowed his brows, sternly saying: 'You just love showing off little tricks and slick talk—Bai Wu of the Aili Secret Pavilion, I'm deducting one credit!'"

"Xie Die let out a soft 'pfft' and laughed quietly."

""That's all I have to say. So, next…""

"Feng Jin then stepped forward to interrupt: '…Please wait a moment, Professor! According to the Shu Ting lecture guidelines, the instructor at the end of the final class should "discuss graduates' ideals with students and guide them onto a solid path."' Feng Jin smiled and added, 'Such an important segment simply can't be skipped, Professor?'"

"Ke Xia was a bit displeased: "Tch…""

"Xie Die: 'As the assistant lecturer, Miss Feng Jin… you really are Ke Xia's nemesis.'"

""…Cough, all right. Since Ya Xin Ti Si insists… let's go through the procedure." Ke Xia cleared his throat, raised his hand and pointed at Bai Wu below the stage, "I see some people have such a strong desire to express themselves… why don't you go first, Bai Wu of the Aili Secret Pavilion—question: What is your ideal?""

""Me?" Bai Wu lowered his head, thought, and said, "I don't really have an ideal. All I want is to protect everyone around me who cares about me…"

"Before he could finish, Ke Xia impatiently cut him off: '…Got it, you want to be a "hero." Such a boring answer—next!'"

""Uh, I never said that…"

"Xie Die beside him couldn't help but chuckle again."

""Xie Die!" Ke Xia turned his focus, pointing at the girl beside him, "You've been snickering since the start—why don't you share next?""

""…Huh…? Me…""

"Being directly called out by the teacher, Xie Die immediately stopped giggling, lowered her head somewhat awkwardly, and said, "Perhaps my answer is too vague and meaningless, Professor An Ke Sa Ge La Si… I wish this world could be freed from the pain of death, so that every living being may embrace sweet tranquility.""

"Ke Xia sighed helplessly and said bluntly, "Naive… so naive it makes one want to tear up over your fairy‑tale story.""

""Look! This is why I don't want to refer to that stale lecture notes—because all I get are boring answers.""

——

Chainsaw Man.

Indeed, it's pretty boring.

Denji lounged on the sofa, legs spread wide. After listening to Bai Wu and Xie Die in the sky curtain each share their ideals, he yawned tiredly.

"What's your ideal?" Pawa held the cat in her arms, blissfully rubbing its fluffy belly, "I'm in a good mood today, so I'll begrudgingly listen."

Denji tilted his head, his expression unusually serious: "Hmm… my ideal…"

"No need to say—it's definitely about fondling breasts, love, that sort of thing."

Hayakawa Aki's voice came from the kitchen as he stood at the sink washing dishes, cutting in without turning around.

"Hey, what tone is that? This kind of ideal is also great, right?!" Denji's face stiffened, then he burst out in complaint.

"If you brought that ideal into Professor Ke Xia's class, you'd probably be kicked out straight away," Hayakawa Aki continued, "Pawa, what's your ideal?"

"My ideal…" Pawa sprang up from the sofa, "My ideal… is obviously to become Japan's prime minister, making all humans on this island nation submit beneath my feet, offering me the freshest blood every day! It has to be type O! Type A would do… but honestly, type O tastes the best!"

Pawa's eyebrows danced with excitement as she gestured in the air—she could already see herself holding a cup of O‑type blood in her left hand and stroking a cat with her right, a blissful immortal's life.

"But I remember being prime minister means having meetings every day," Denji suddenly realized.

"That's a human matter," Pawa waved her hand impatiently, "I couldn't care less about such trivialities—if I had to hold meetings myself, what would the ministers even be for? That's their problem to worry about."

"…"

Hayakawa Aki stacked the clean plates neatly, "…Your ideal would probably get you labeled a terrorist, but hey, at least it's an interesting ideal."

"Tch… after all that, what's your ideal?"

"Me?" Hayakawa Aki wiped his hands with a dry towel, "My ideal is simply to stay alive."