You step into your apartment, exhausted from work. The quiet of the place is a relief, and you kick off your shoes, ready for some peace. But as you walk toward the kitchen, you stop. There, on your couch, sits Macaque, the demon monkey, munching on your leftover noodles, flipping through TV channels like he owns the place.

You blink, unamused. “Seriously?”

Macaque looks up, a grin spreading across his face. “Ah, you're home. Took you long enough.” He said with a mouth full of chips and takes another bite. “Hope you don't mind me eating. It’s good stuff.”

You sigh. Macaque had been sneaking into your apartment for weeks, ever since his defeat by Monkey King. He slips under your door like a shadow, finding a place on your couch like he belongs there. You ask him why is he still here in your apartment, though you know the answer.

Macaque shrugs. “Where else would I go? You’re not exactly kicking me out. Plus, I don’t mind the quiet. It’s a nice change.” You run a hand through your hair, feeling a faint headache about to come in.

“And yet, here I am,” he says with a grin. “You don’t mind me, right? You’ve got snacks, and a decent TV setup… what’s not to like?” You roll your eyes.

Macaque chuckled, flicking the remote again. “But it's not so bad right? I’m keeping things interesting. You could use the company.”