Mao had his fill at Yang Yi’s place and left in high spirits, carrying the rabbit meat and coral fleece blanket that Yang Yi had gifted him.
At first, Yang Yi was worried that such a young child wouldn’t be able to carry so many things. The rabbit meat and pelts together were heavier than Mao himself.
To his surprise, despite the boy’s small and skinny frame, he was incredibly strong and effortlessly hoisted the bag onto his back.
However, when he left, his pace had clearly slowed, lacking the agility and swiftness he had earlier.
Yang Yi watched as the boy disappeared into the jungle, then climbed up a nearby tall tree using a simple rope ladder he had made earlier.
Because he had lived in the city for so long and wasn’t used to agile tree climbing, he had crafted this ladder from climbing rope. He’d tied a long strand to an arrow, shot it over the highest branch, and then secured the rope firmly to the trunk.
With the rope ladder, climbing the smooth, tall tree became much easier, though it still took considerable effort. Once he made it up, he usually didn’t come down for the rest of the day.
The tree branch was as high as the seventh or eighth floor of a building. Every day, after eating his fill, Yang Yi would climb up there to observe the tribe through his binoculars.
From what he could see, the tribe didn’t seem to be in great condition. Yang Yi estimated there were over a hundred people, many of whom were elderly, weak, sick, or disabled.
They resembled East Asians in appearance, but with more pronounced facial features. Their physiques were also much taller and stronger, especially those in the hunting party. Even the women seemed to be around 1.8 meters tall, while the men were at least 1.9 meters, possibly over two meters.
That said, not everyone was so towering. There were also quite a few smaller, thinner individuals. Still, adult males were generally over 1.8 meters tall, and the women around 1.7 meters.
Each day, two teams would leave the camp to forage nearby. One team appeared physically stronger, consisting mostly of men, likely the hunters. The other, made up mostly of women and children, was likely the gathering team. Each team had about seven or eight members.
Those remaining at camp weren’t idle either. They stayed busy gathering firewood, tidying the camp, and making stone tools.
Their weapons were still rudimentary stone tools. Since they didn’t dare stray too far from the camp, both teams struggled to find enough food to meet the tribe’s needs.
Even from a distance through his binoculars, Yang Yi could feel their exhaustion and despair; their relentless struggle for survival.
Before Mao reached the camp, the two foraging teams had already returned.
The hunting team arrived first. All eyes turned to them with hope.
But what they brought back were just bundles of firewood and a few palm-sized creatures and insects, and not many at that. The light in everyone’s eyes dimmed instantly.
“It’s alright. Tomorrow will be better,” Jiao said gently, cradling a small infant in her arms.
The baby stared blankly with half-open eyes, motionless—not out of calmness, but because he was too weak from hunger to even cry.
His mother, a member of the gathering team, had long since stopped producing milk due to starvation.
Jiao was the eldest among them. She had given birth to three children and managed to raise them all.
She wasn’t a warrior, but she possessed great wisdom and knew some basic medicine. Time and again, her experience had helped them survive countless crises, earning her the respect of everyone.
The hunting party’s captain, Yan Shi, was deeply ashamed. He kept a stiff expression and said nothing, while the other hunters were visibly dejected.
If they couldn’t find more food soon, this group wouldn’t last much longer.
They were already utterly exhausted, having spent most of their strength. Many were in poor condition and needed proper nourishment to recover.
“Let’s go into the Black Forest tomorrow,” suggested Rong, the only female warrior in the hunting party, her eyes full of resolve.
“No! It’s too dangerous!” Jiao immediately objected. “There are too few of us, and we don’t have blackstone weapons. Going in would be suicide.”
The Black Forest was a place both longed for and feared.
That place held an abundance of food, but also countless deadly beasts that could claim lives with ease.
What was even more terrifying was the curse said to linger there. Many skilled hunting parties had once perished mysteriously within its depths.
When others later went in to investigate, they found no wounds on the bodies and no signs of struggle, just inexplicable deaths.
Anyone born on the Eastern Continent knew the forest’s fearsome reputation. No tribe dared set their sights on it.
“We’ll only hunt near the outer edge. Better to risk it than starve,” Rong insisted.
Another member of the hunting party agreed. “I’m in. There are barely any animals left nearby, and beyond that is the territory of the Green Python Tribe. We can’t hunt there.”
The Green Python Tribe was a large clan, reclusive and distrustful of outsiders.
They were like serpents—harmless if left alone, but the moment they were provoked, they’d bare their fangs, strike without mercy, and wouldn’t stop until their enemy was destroyed.
“That settles it!” Yan Shi stood up and made the final call.
Jiao let out a deep sigh and said nothing more, silently hoping the gathering team would return with a better harvest today. Otherwise, they’d have no choice but to take the enormous risk of hunting in the Black Forest.
Just then, the gathering team returned. From afar, it was clear that things hadn’t gone well for them either. Each one of them looked listless and worn out.
“The plants here are different from those around the Blackstone Tribe. We don’t know which ones are edible and which ones aren’t. The food we’ve found is extremely limited.”
Determining whether a plant was safe to eat required taste testing, a knowledge traditionally passed down through generations.
But here, everything had to start from scratch. Along the way, several elders had already died from poisoning while testing unfamiliar plants.
Now, their numbers had dwindled to less than half of what they were when they were expelled from the Blackstone Tribe. They couldn’t afford to take any more risks.
“Do you think Hei Lie will come for us?”
Someone spoke from the crowd, and silence fell instantly.
If Hei Lie were here, things would never be this miserable.
He was a brave and formidable man—ferocious, yet cautious. He knew how to lead hunting parties, how to set traps, and take down dangerous beasts. With him around, everyone pushed themselves harder, fueled by his presence.
He never looked down on the weak. He was a master of coordination, making sure each person played a vital role in the group’s survival.
But… would he really come?
If he did, the chieftain and the shaman would surely force him to sever ties with the Blackstone Tribe.
Hei Lie was a strong contender to become the future chief. There was no need for him to leave the prosperous tribe behind and suffer here with them. It would be an utterly foolish choice.
The group sank even deeper into despair. If that man didn’t come for them, they truly didn’t know whether they could go on.
They had too few warriors. Most of them were just ordinary people the tribe had deemed unworthy and cast out, sold off to other tribes as “two-legged sheep”.
Their long and grueling journey had left many severely weakened, barely able to defend themselves.
Just then, a cheerful voice rang out in the distance.
“Everyone, come see what I brought back!”
All eyes turned toward the sound, and they were stunned.
What kind of animal was that? How could it have such beautiful, soft fur?
Wait, wasn’t that clever little rascal Mao? But what was he wearing? The colors are so vivid and dazzling. It was like he was draped in a rainbow.
Through his binoculars, Yang Yi watched as Mao returned to the group. They were clearly stunned by what he’d brought back. Everyone crowded around him, sneaking glances toward Yang Yi’s direction with expressions of astonishment.
A 2.0 by 2.2 meter coral fleece blanket left them completely awestruck. The rabbit he’d brought was practically forgotten as people eagerly stepped forward to touch the soft fabric, marveling at both its beauty and the craftsmanship behind it.
In the end, the blanket was cut into several pieces and distributed among the children and the frail.
The rabbit hide was set aside for processing, and the meat was divided evenly. Everyone received a share.
That said, those who went out to forage were given slightly more, though not by much. There simply wasn’t enough meat; the large rabbit was barely a taste for so many.
Still, no one tried to hoard it. Even with the small size of the blanket and the meager amount of meat, they made sure to care for the weak and share what little they had.
Despite the meager amount of food, the group was genuinely delighted. The heavy air of despair lifted noticeably.
Seeing this, Yang Yi’s impression of the group deepened; he felt a growing fondness for them.
Some primitive tribes, guided more by animal instinct than moral codes, would abandon the weak, elderly, or even children in times of scarcity to conserve resources.
But this group showed a rare sense of compassion.
Mao, brimming with excitement, described the rabbit he’d eaten in the Black Forest. Though his words were simple and clumsy, he managed to vividly convey the deliciousness of a meal unlike anything they’d ever tasted.
He also spoke of the strange man from the forest. His odd clothing and peculiar items, and the brilliant, rainbow-like fur he wore. Everyone was intrigued.
The hunting party, in particular, sensed that some of those unfamiliar items might be powerful weapons, unlike anything they had ever seen.
“Are you serious? Is it really that incredible?”
Mao nodded eagerly. “It’s incredible. You can’t sense any aura of strength from him. He looks fragile, but he dares to live in the Black Forest. He has abundant food, wears strange clothing that doesn’t seem to fear the cold at all, and he’s very generous.”
Just thinking about the delicious food he’d eaten earlier made Mao swallow involuntarily. The others, too, were filled with longing.
When they first arrived in this place, they had already noticed signs of habitation within the Black Forest, but no one had dared to approach.
Only Mao—young, bold, and quick on his feet—had the nerve to get close again and again, especially since no one had the time to stop him.
Deep down, they all wished they could be accepted by the people who lived there. Relying solely on their own strength had become almost impossible.
Everyone stared at the soft, brilliantly colored pelt draped over Mao’s shoulders. Such fine fur, given so freely to a mere child. It spoke volumes about the outsider’s abundance.
“This is the will of the gods!” Jiao declared suddenly, breaking her long silence.
The baby Jiao had been holding was already taken back by his mother and had managed to eat some chewed meat, which gave him a noticeable boost in energy.
The others turned their eyes toward Jiao, and she spoke again: “We’ve made it this far by sheer will. The gods do not wish to see us perish, so they sent him to us.”
With that, Jiao knelt in Yang Yi’s direction, bowing deeply in the highest form of reverence.
Seeing this, many others followed suit.
Even Yan Shi, the strongest warrior in the group, hesitated briefly but ultimately joined them. The rest no longer had any doubts.
“O god, please lead us away from hunger and cold. We are willing to offer you everything,” they prayed.
Through his binoculars, Yang Yi witnessed the entire scene. His lips curved into a faint smile.
He had made the right choice.
When he crossed into this world, he had two possible landing sites.
One option had been to land near a prosperous, densely populated settlement; the other, near a barren region with fewer people.
After much deliberation, he chose the latter.
The first option seemed safer. More people usually meant better protection in the wilderness. But as an outsider, blending in would be difficult, and he wasn’t sure if they’d reject him.
The more supplies he carried, the more he would resemble a plump sheep waiting to be slaughtered if he lacked the strength to defend himself.
Besides, he had no intention of merely blending in. He wanted to lead.
The second option came with greater danger due to the group’s weakness, but it also offered him a better chance at self-preservation and acceptance.
And if things went south, escape would be far easier.
Yang Yi wasn’t actually worried about food or supplies. After all, as the top-ranked player in the game «Great Wild Construction», he enjoyed many perks and privileges.
He’d never imagined he’d one day experience transmigration. Sure, he loved playing survival games, building on deserted islands, and running virtual farms. He devoured books, novels, movies, and shows on the subject, almost as if he longed to become some jungle king or infrastructure maniac.
But none of that meant he had the spirit of a true adventurer. He was, in every sense, like Lord Ye, who claimed to love dragons but feared the real thing—he admired the fantasy, not the reality of living in a primitive, undeveloped world.
Even a mountain of resources couldn’t tempt him.
He had a perfectly good life in the modern world: a car, a house, a solid savings account. He’d have to be out of his mind to want to come here. He wouldn’t even visit the Amazon by choice.
But who could’ve predicted that just like in the old tale, the dragon Lord Ye claimed to love would one day show up for real?
And he had been chosen. With no way to refuse.
The god of transmigration told him that he had already died suddenly in the modern world. This was his only chance to live again, and truly, his greatest blessing.
All Yang Yi had to do was complete the god’s assigned mission: to build a city here, reclaim farmland, raise livestock, and solve the food and safety needs of one million people, ensuring they could also sustain themselves independently.
If he succeeded, he would gain true freedom and even earn the right to return to his original world.
One million people!
Yang Yi had rolled his eyes on the spot. Sure, he’d overachieved his goals in the game, but this was a real, untamed wilderness!
It had taken humanity millennia to reach that kind of development. Even with modern knowledge, there was no way he could achieve such a leap alone, let alone uplift so many people with him.
Just staying alive would already be a miracle. As for completing the mission and going back to the old world? He wasn’t holding his breath.
Even though the god of transmigration didn’t intend for him to start completely from scratch and allowed him to bring along some basic supplies, Yang Yi still felt the task was daunting and nearly out of reach.
Before officially crossing over, he could use in-game currency to purchase supplies from the game’s marketplace and bring his entire in-game warehouse with him, essentially gaining a portable storage space filled with goods.
But the moment he transmigrated, the real-life experience would begin.
He would be completely cut off from his former life, with no way to restock. Any remaining funds would be forfeited.
He was given only one day to go on a frantic shopping spree; another test in itself: how to maximize the utility of limited money and time to secure the most suitable resources.
Fortunately, Yang Yi had worked his way through each level of survival and infrastructure in the game, grinding through missions, so he had a solid theoretical foundation for thriving in a wild world.
He was meticulous and business-savvy, with impressive savings in the game, which meant he could shop quickly and with a clear purpose.
Unfortunately, the game’s marketplace was limited, more akin to a real-world supermarket or online retailer.
Prices, product quality, laws, and regulations were all the same as in the real world, so naturally, prohibited items couldn’t be purchased. Otherwise, he would’ve loaded up on firearms.
What’s more, to prevent him from overly relying on supplies, those resources weren’t permanent.
The more advanced an item was compared to local technology, the shorter its lifespan once taken out.
And completing the construction mission alone wasn’t enough to return to his original world. He also had to reproduce items equivalent in value to those taken from the store, essentially “replacing” everything he brought with things made from local means.
In other words, to go back, he had to accomplish something truly meaningful.
It was impossible to just coast through life using his existing supplies. He had to integrate into society.
The god who orchestrated the transmigration had thought everything through from the start. While Yang Yi was given rich supplies, he wasn’t granted a body suited to the world’s danger level. It was a deliberate push, forcing him to rely on more than just the items in his storage space to survive.
This land was teeming with venomous insects, snakes, and fierce beasts; creatures that, back on Earth, you’d never find gathered in one place outside of a zoo. Even savage prehistoric monsters roamed here, plain as day.
These creatures were far more aggressive and perceptive than Earth’s wild animals. Even small herbivores were not to be trifled with. They might not eat meat, but they still attacked weaker creatures with territorial aggression.
Humans hadn’t claimed the top of the food chain here. Survival was a daily uphill battle.
Even if Yang Yi had no desire to return to his former world, if he wanted to live with safety and dignity, he had no choice but to lead this group and begin building something from the ground up.
The god of transmigration, well aware of Yang Yi’s laughably low combat prowess and the world’s perils, gave him three lives, just like in the game «Contra».
But to ensure he truly experienced the harshness of this reality, pain was not excluded.
In fact, when Yang Yi had just arrived, he accidentally brushed against some ants on a tree.
Those ants were vicious. Their bites hurt so much that they actually made him cry.
He flailed and scratched like he’d gone mad, only to stumble straight into the territory of a carnivorous plant. Before he could react, it snapped shut and swallowed him whole.
In that moment, the pain was overwhelming, like every part of his body was being dismantled and reassembled. Then, everything went dark.
When he came to, he was back at his original landing site.
According to the god, he had died suddenly on Earth, so quickly he hadn’t even felt it.
But this time, he truly experienced the terror of death.
He also came to understand the brutal nature of this world: without the protection of a group, even a hundred lives wouldn’t be enough. The psychological toll alone could break him.
From that day on, he never let his guard down again. He armed himself to the teeth and desperately tried to recall every survival trick he had ever learned.
With only two lives remaining, he knew that if he lost them, that would be the end. No more second chances.
So when the group showed signs of goodwill, he didn’t hesitate. He reached out, eager to connect and earn their trust.
Yang Yi pulled out a large mirror, raised it toward the sunlight, and let it cast a dazzling beam in their direction.
I see you. I’m here.
