Chapter 2: Garlic Tribe
In a flurry, Lu Yao dashed through his rented home, his urgency palpable, before dousing his face with an invigorating splash of frigid water. The oscillating sensations of heat and cold roused him from his drowsiness, compelling him back to his desk where his computer lay.
Astonishingly, the screen revealed a remarkable sceen: the [Gift] slot of the virtual temple now brimmed with the unmistakable presence of garlic. The undeniable truth emerged—his hand had traversed the boundaries of dimensions, bestowing the herb within the hallowed sanctum, all through the precise maneuvering of his mouse.
With a mixture of caution and curiosity, Lu Yao was prompted with a question, "Will you gift [Garlic] to your devoted followers?"
Without hesitation, he deftly clicked [Yes].
Beyond the temple walls, exclamatory symbols materialized above the heads of the faithful who had gathered in fervent worship.
"Behold, the divine manifests!"
"God have blessed us with a wondrous miracle!"
"Hail the miracles! Hail our Almighty ruler!"
"Great Deity, we offer gratitude for this munificent gift!"
"Garlic! Garlic!"
"Garlic from the celestial realms! A divine bestowal!"
Following fervent prostration and prayer, the devout minions hurriedly shared the good news, their thought dialoge prompts, there placid and reverent expressions transformed into radiant smiles.
United in purpose, they diligently toiled, reclaiming a parcel of land that would soon yield thriving, verdant seedlings.
A message materialized upon the screen.
[Through your gift, the faithful have acquired knowledge of garlic cultivation and utilization, elevating their faith.]
Lu Yao's gaze gravitated to the upper-right corner of the screen.
The initial faith value of 7 surged remarkably, blossoming into 22.
Clearly, the act of bestowing gifts held the remarkable ability to swiftly accrue faith among the devout.
Casting his gaze around the room, Lu Yao's eyes alighted upon a pencil, nestled upon the table.
An instrument akin to a writing implement possessed boundless potential for a nascent tribal civilization.
Yet, when he endeavored to select the parchment, he discovered that the garlic still lingered within the confines of the [Gift] slot. With a mere click, a prompt materialized, offering guidance.
[The integration of garlic into this realm is underway. Patience is advised.]
With no recourse, Lu Yao reluctantly relinquished his idea.
Embarking upon this game, he found himself navigating an uncharted expanse of mechanics and gameplay, an adventure that necessitated gradual progression and discovery.
As his gaze remained transfixed upon the screen, he mechanically consumed a bowl of cold-noodles, his mind awash with the unfolding spectacle.
Approximately thirty minutes later, a horde of baleful figures emerged, charging forth from the peripheral reaches of the screen. These diminutive silhouettes were garbed in weathered leather waistcoats, led by a figure adorned with a horned helmet and brandishing a rudimentary wooden spear.
Foreign intruders brandished torches, encircling the temple with ill intent.
"The lair of demons! The accursed abode!"
"It must be vanquished! You are but minions of the malevolent!"
"Set it ablaze! Consume it with purifying flames!"
Lu Yao swiftly comprehended the gravity of the situation.
These were the forest-dwelling tribes alluded to by the temple's indigenous inhabitants. In their misguided perception, the sacred edifice represented a haven for sinister forces.
Concurrently, above the heads of the seven loyalists within the temple, exclamation marks materialized, symbolizing their alarm.
"This is the domain of God, the sanctum of Yao!"
"The divine has graced us with celestial might!"
"Behold the Miracle of Garlic!"
"How dare you profane the divine!"
The forest tribes remained impervious to explanation, their clamoring voices resolute in their call to ignite the temple. With torches in hand, these nefarious beings encircled the sacred edifice, poised to set ablaze its revered walls.
Without faltering, Lu Yao's cursor deftly clicked on [Miracle], fixating upon the first option—[Rainfall].
In the convoluted logic of these primitive tribes, rainfall represented the wrath of the gods, a potential deterrent to their malevolent intentions.
Yet, just as his finger hovered over the mouse, a flicker of insight sparked within Lu Yao's mind.
No, such intervention would not suffice.
If he were to intervene, he would have to do so with resounding impact.
His eyes traversed the remaining choices.
[Miracle], ranked in descending order of devout belief, demanded increasing levels of faith: [Rainfall] at 10, [Lightning] at 20, [Scorching Sun] at 25, [Hurricane] at 30, and [Earthquake] at 40.
Lu Yao's unwavering gaze honed in on [Lightning].
[Lightning]: Consume 20 points of Faith to summon a bolt of celestial energy, directed to a designated area.
Yes, this was the chosen course.
With a decisive click, Lu Yao's cursor transformed into a range icon, granting him the power to select and manipulate. He deftly adjusted the parameters, narrowing the focus to the leader of the forest tribe—a figure adorned with a horned helmet.
As the ancient adage proclaims, aim for the leader, strike with precision. With great power came great responsibility. The time had come to leave his mark.
With a gentle tap of the mouse, a brilliant bolt of lightning descended from the pixelated firmament, obliterating the villainous leader and incinerating the two hapless accomplices in a flurry of ash.
Exclamation marks materialized above the heads of the remaining forest tribesmen, their torches abandoned as they scattered in a frenzy of disarray.
The temple's seven devotees stood apart from the throng, their countenances etched with indignants.
"The wrath of the God befalls you! Tremble before his divine fury!"
"Your audacity knows no bounds! You have dared to offend the divine!"
"Beware the ire of God! This is the punishment that awaits blasphemers!"
Lu Yao couldn't help but savor a profound sense of gratification. The Forest Tribes would now think twice before causing further disruptions, unless they were foolish enough to challenge the might of lightning once again.
With relief flooding his being, he felt a slight ache in his neck—a reminder of the hours absorbed by the game, oblivious to the passage of time.
Despite his reluctance, he obediently shut down the computer, prepared himself for slumber, and yielded to the demands of the forthcoming workday.
As Lu Yao reclined in bed, his ruminations meandered through his consciousness.
If he possessed the power to conjure natural disasters, it followed that he could also grant the game's inhabitants real-world artifacts. In the eyes of these pixelated
Inhabitants, he would indeed transcend mortal limitations, akin to a deity of unimaginable prowess.
...
The ensuing day found Lu Yao concluding his work earlier than usual. His boss had ventured forth to engage with clients, and the swift exodus of customers allowed him to seize the opportunity for an early departure.
Upon reaching his abode, he eagerly launched "The Celestial Experience."
With a simple click on the [Continue Game] option, the familiar tapestry of pixelated landscapes unfolded before his entranced gaze.
Relief washed over him, grateful that his hard-earned progress remained unscathed.
Lu Yao's eyes widened in astonishment as he beheld the transformed scene before him.
Five thatched huts now stood in the vicinity of the temple, encircled by rectangular farmlands. Guiding the cursor over the fields, he marveled at the flourishing garlic plants that thrived within.
The population count in the upper right corner had burgeoned, multiplying from a mere seven to a thriving thirty individuals. Furthermore, the faith value had surged to an impressive twenty-five points.
Quick mental calculations ensued.
Yesterday's expenditure of a solitary [Lightning] bolt, depleting a mere two faith points, paled in comparison to the current tally of twenty-five—a remarkable surge of twenty-three points. Correspondingly, the population had swelled by twenty-three individuals.
His earlier hypothesis was confirmed—the arrival of each new member contributed an additional faith point.
The game's progress, much to Lu Yao's surprise, continued unabated even when his computer was powered down.
At that moment, a fresh prompt materialized on the screen.
- You have gathered enough followers to establish a tribe. Please provide a name ___.
Lu Yao promptly typed the word "garlic."
Adhering to the simplicity of ancient naming conventions, it seemed fitting to christen them the Garlic Tribe, given their unique association with the gift of garlic bestowed by Lu Yao himself.
[With your miraculous acts and benevolence, the Garlic Tribe is now officially established, and the Temple of Yao resonates in the hearts of distant lands.]
So, the allure of attracting foreign populations had indeed borne fruit.
Lu Yao's attention now turned toward the newly arrived members.
He observed that the twenty-three pixelated villagers who had joined the night before were bedecked in leather vests, a stark departure from the shirtless and barefooted locals.
They hailed from the forest tribe.
Evidently, some of the pixelated forest tribe members had embraced the temple's allure, electing to settle in its proximity.
A surge of elation coursed through Lu Yao's veins.
His blitz tactics from the previous night had yielded immediate dividends.
Whether propelled by fear or reverence, they had unquestionably gravitated toward this newfound sanctuary.
With the burgeoning population, the need for division of labor became apparent. The tribal villagers, no longer restricted to cultivating garlic and tending to berries, expanded their pursuits. Two individuals ventured into the forest for hunting expeditions, while another ventured to the riverside in an attempt to procure fish through barehanded means.
Presently, the Garlic Tribe remained entrenched in the primitive stages of society, with each member toiling assiduously to secure sustenance.
Lu Yao shifted his gaze to the temple's interface, where he discerned that the [Gift] slot still contained garlic.
A faint tinge of regret assailed him.
The cooldown period for this gift, it seemed, spanned a significant duration.
Had he been cognizant of the ability to bring real-world items into this pixelated realm, he would have opted for wheat instead—a bountiful resource capable of addressing the food shortages that had afflicted the pixelated villagers in their early stages. Alternatively, he could have bestowed bows and arrows, equipping the inhabitants with newfound archery skills that would elevate their hunting prowess, affording them a fighting chance against future encounters with the forest tribes.
As Lu Yao continued to peruse the screen, his eyes alighted upon an unfamiliar addition.
[Sacrifice]. A crimson-hued item now occupied the slot.