In order to deal with this group of tree spirits, he had tried other methods as well, having dealt with them for a full two years.

At first, he tried bribery, bringing natural human fertilizer (his own), store-bought organic flower fertilizer, and industrial synthetic fertilizer to show goodwill, hoping these tree spirits would be “satisfied” and let him pass through the forest safely. But these tree spirits couldn’t speak, had no intention of communicating, and would attack him on sight, almost smearing the natural human fertilizer on his face.

At that time, he got angry, feeling that these tree spirits didn’t appreciate his kindness. He brought gasoline, intending to burn down the forest in one go. He did manage to set the forest on fire, but there were too many tree spirits. They rushed in with dirt to put out the flames, desperately beating at the fire. In the end, the results weren’t as great as he’d imagined—the tree species were strange and not easily flammable. The few buckets of gasoline he poured were just a spark, and the fire was gone in an instant. It was just an ordinary wildfire, and the tree spirits were very experienced in dealing with it.

They even knew how to clear firebreaks to prevent the fire from spreading.

He then tried to force peace through fighting, shouting before setting the fire that as long as they let him pass through the forest, he wouldn’t bother them anymore. He persisted for a long time, hoping the tree spirits would give in, but it was useless. Whenever he tried to burn the forest, the tree spirits would come to fight him, completely unafraid of trouble.

In the end, he really ran out of ideas and began rigorous training, hoping to use his mortal body to forcibly confront these supernatural beings, sneaking or charging through the forest. But the results weren’t great either. There were simply too many tree spirits in the forest, no gaps to slip through. Every time, just like before, as soon as he went a little deeper, he would be discovered, and if he wasn’t fast enough, he would have been beaten to death inside.

In short, he had tried everything he could think of, made countless attempts, and was still stuck here after two years, completely unable to get through this bizarre forest, forced to be trapped in this stone mountain—the lifeless forest completely surrounded the mountain. He had tried every direction, and it was all those damned tree spirits.

He really, really, desperately wanted to leave this place, to see what was outside the forest, to try seeking immortality and enlightenment.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t. He couldn’t get out.

……

The tree spirits slowly retreated into the forest, disappearing behind the trees, gradually vanishing from sight. The forest returned to its lifeless state, shrouded in a faint gray mist and dampness, like a silent giant beast lying there, forming an insurmountable barrier.

Autumn Whitman quietly gazed at the forest, his expression slowly shifting from ugly to dejected.

Then, the light around him twisted, the scenery changed, and he suddenly appeared in a small single apartment of about four or five tsubo—the wallpaper was mottled, the tatami was damaged in many places, there was a small square table in the center, and an old set of desk and chair. That was it, extremely shabby.

This was where he lived now, in a cheap apartment building in Shimokita Ward, Sapporo, Hokkaido, Japan. It was dark and damp, cool in winter and warm in summer, with a monthly rent of exactly 30,000 yen. Utilities were paid separately, no property management fee, no manager, and the bathroom was so small it was hard to turn around. No kitchen, no bath—if you wanted to bathe, you had to go to the public bathhouse on the street.

Only those who were really strapped for cash would choose to live here. It was just a bit better than an internet café or a capsule hotel. The environment could hardly be called good, but Autumn Whitman didn’t care. Compared to not being able to cultivate immortality or gain supernatural powers, poor living conditions were nothing.

He pressed his chest, took a few quick breaths to ease the discomfort from the spatial shift, then sat cross-legged directly on the tatami.

It had been two years. He had spent a lot of time, wasted a lot of energy, trained his body desperately to the limit, but still couldn’t leave that mountain. All his efforts were in vain. Should he give up?

He couldn’t possibly spend his whole life on this, could he?

But…

Should he give up the only cheat he got from transmigrating?

Chapter Two: Maybe It’s Time to Live Life Steadily

He was a transmigrator, now called Autumn Whitman, originally named Eleanor Wood. He had been in this world for more than two years.

At the time, it was the summer break of his freshman year. Bored at night, he downloaded a popular cultivation simulation game, planning to play casually to pass the time. Just after he finished randomizing his talent and life-bound artifact, a bolt of lightning flashed outside the window, sparks flew from his computer, and before he could react, he was forcibly “immigrated.” Not only that, but he was also de-aged, forcibly returned to the age of fourteen—the starting age of the game character.

Of course, being a few years younger didn’t matter much. The problem was that his “spawn point” was also random, and he inexplicably fell into the Mist River in Kirishima City, Hokkaido, in the middle of the night.

After that, suddenly appearing in a foreign country, he was forcibly taken in by the police. Because he refused to speak (he couldn’t speak Japanese), kept pretending to be dumb (afraid of being dissected), and was injured (from falling into the river from a height), the police determined he was a runaway autistic teenager with serious psychological problems and strong suicidal tendencies, and directly handed him over to the Kirishima City Special Care Home—a government institution specializing in sheltering homeless children.