Chapter Four: The Tribe
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At dawn, the heavy rain had ceased. Bathed in the first rays of sunlight, the oak tree that Ji Yu had become was adorned with countless crystal-clear droplets clinging to its leaves. Among the dew-laden greenery, several birds of various sizes hopped about, pecking at insects and chirping cheerfully. Meanwhile, during this feasting and song, a grey owl with a red cord tied to its foot slipped out from a hollow in one of the massive branches of the oak.
Perched on the branch, the owl’s gaze was vacant, its movements mechanical as it tilted its head to survey its surroundings before falling still once more. Perhaps it was the warmth of the new morning, so different from the cold damp of the rainy night, that finally roused Ji Yu from his slumber. Instinctively, he longed to stretch and wake himself fully, but was met instead with a strong, uncomfortable sense of restraint.
It was only then Ji Yu remembered—he was still in the form of a tree.
He chuckled to himself. “It seems I’ll need some time to adjust to this state,” he thought. “Still, this meditative rest feels far better than sleep. I awake filled with an invigorating sense of well-being.”
Energized, Ji Yu turned his attention to the results of the past night. Now, upon this fifty-meter-tall oak, not a trace of decay remained. The crown of the tree was lush with fresh branches and leaves, and the old, rotted twigs had fallen away of their own accord. Washed by the rain, these dead branches now lay scattered on the ground or caught among the new growth and unfamiliar vines.
Though his vitality had not yet reached its peak, Ji Yu’s oak stood out among the twenty-meter oaks lining the stony path—its presence vibrant, brimming with life.
As Ji Yu admired these changes, strange cries suddenly echoed through the misty rainforest of the early morning.
“O la la la!”
“O la la la!”
…
Perhaps drawn by these calls, the once-quiet primitive village burst into commotion. Countless ancient wooden doors were pushed open, and in their confusion, the villagers hurried from their homes, following the sound toward the heart of the settlement.
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Men led women, and women guided children. Soon, they assembled upon the sacred stone path at the village’s center. Gazing up through the lingering mist at the towering holy tree, the villagers were left speechless by what they saw.
The sacred tree, which now stood before them, had changed dramatically—revived and resplendent. The morning sun glimmered off the droplets and fresh leaves, imbuing the tree with a vibrant, almost otherworldly aura.
The villagers buzzed with excitement, their voices rising in heated discussion. Yet, as the tribal elder approached, adorned with a feathered crown, the crowd quickly fell silent.
The elder, with his wrinkled brown skin, gazed up at the oak, his hands trembling, his expression one of fervent devotion. Gripping a staff carved from an oak branch, he began to chant a string of prayers that Ji Yu could not understand.
At the sound of the elder’s familiar voice, the owl with the red cord swooped down from the hollow in the oak. The elder raised his arm, and the owl settled there, half-closing its eyes as if still half-asleep.
Having finished his prayer, the elder turned to address the gathered villagers beneath the altar. As he spoke in a loud, impassioned voice, the crowd’s excitement rose to a fever pitch. Soon, all were bowing low before the oak, chanting fervently.
Ji Yu could not understand their language, but their actions and expressions left little doubt as to their meaning.
“To these villagers, the oak’s overnight transformation must seem nothing short of a miracle,” he mused. “But this is only the beginning. There will be much more to come.”
With that, Ji Yu took the opportunity to observe the village’s population more closely. Within minutes, he had counted all those gathered on the stony path—478 villagers in total: 402 adults, 15 elders, and 61 children and youths. As far as he could tell, it was a fairly normal population structure for a tribe.
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Yet, Ji Yu wondered how a community of several hundred could persist so long, deep in the uncharted tropical rainforest. The question lingered, but he had no time to pursue it further. Every second in this game was precious, and he was determined not to waste a moment.
So, after one last look at the villagers still lost in prayer and worship, Ji Yu logged out of the game for the time being.
Because of the nearly eleven-hour time difference between the Lyon Federation and the Bana Federation, it was already late at night in Ji Yu’s city, though morning had only just broken in the rainforest.
Logging out, Ji Yu hurried downstairs. After picking up a bowl of beef noodle soup from a noodle shop and eating, he washed up and settled at his computer desk.
This time, he did not immediately rush back into the game—there was no need, as he had already spent more than eight hours playing that day and still had four hours left before reaching the daily limit.
Now, at last, he had time to reflect on his physical changes. After eight hours of gameplay, his own constitution had increased by only 0.01, reaching a total of 0.40.
This subtle improvement, however, revealed much about the connection between his real body and his in-game avatar. Clearly, the growth of the oak did not directly affect his human form; his recovery depended mainly on the “Vigorous Vitality” trait. The progress was slow but reasonable. After all, the oak could supplement its growth through meditation, but Ji Yu himself had no such advantage.
So, if he relied solely on his vitality trait, it would still take some time to recover from his illness. At a rate of 0.01 per eight hours, he estimated it would take about a week to return to normal human levels. Even if the rate slowed over time, he doubted it would take longer than ten days.
For now, Ji Yu was satisfied with his progress.
“The game is called ‘Becoming All Things,’ and its core is transformation. It’s only natural that my human body can’t synchronize directly with the oak’s stats.”