The bear fell, lifeless, while Jumanji lay sprawled on the ground; his face completely void of expression, as if carved from silent stone.

  A moment ago, panic had seized him, but he quickly suppressed it within the depths of his soul; for before taking his first step in this world, he realized with certainty that his path would not be lined with soft bamboo, but with thorns and blood, and that he must traverse it without fear.

  Yet, the "experience of feeling" fear in the face of death is entirely different from merely thinking about it. He gathered his scattered strength and pressed on the wound that still throbbed with the heat of pain.

  At that moment, the "savior" emerged from the shadows, fixing her gaze directly on Jumanji. She was a girl in her early twenties, possessing a breathtaking beauty that exuded dignity; she wore pure white garments, contrasting with her jet-black hair that fell gently over her shoulders.

  Whoever saw her for the first time would inevitably fall under her spell, yet Jumanji's astonishment did not stem from her captivating beauty, but from the bow she held; she had felled a beast over two meters tall with a single, precise arrow, a skill only a seasoned hunter could possess.

  Before they could exchange a word, the silence was pierced by the rapid footsteps of two young men—the ones who had lost the spoiled boy in the depths of the forest.

  The moment their eyes fell on Jumanji, one of them erupted in a volley of scolding: "You spoiled brat! Why did you run from us and leave us in this mess? Do you think the forest is the tribe, and someone will protect you behind every tree?"

  Before he could finish, the other continued angrily: "You fool, never step outside our boundaries with us again! You made us lower our defenses, then slithered away like a snake. What were you aiming for? Don’t you realize we brought you along secretly, away from everyone's eyes?"

  "You really make things difficult for us! We only wanted to give you a taste of experience, thinking for a moment that you had changed or matured, but you proved that you’re still that reckless mischief-maker as always."

  Jumanji listened in stunned silence, trying to absorb this torrent of accusations; it was clear that the two boys had mistaken him for someone else, yet he found no chance to utter a word, as the first one interjected firmly: "Come on, we must return immediately! Look at your injury—we’ll face severe punishment when we get back. We need to dress your wounds before entering the tribe... and do not utter a word about what happened, or I will strangle you with these hands!"

  Jumanji remained silent, observing the frantic chatter of the enraged youth. He was about to clarify that they had misunderstood, when his eyes suddenly fell upon the bear’s corpse, recalling the "human hand" dangling from the beast's jaws moments ago. In that instant, certainty settled in his heart; this monster had devoured the person they were searching for.

  Before he could speak, a rumble of hunger in his stomach silenced his words. A sudden idea sparked in his mind; since they thought he was someone else, why not seize this golden opportunity? It was his gateway to understanding this unknown world and navigating it effortlessly.

  "I don’t know what fate made that boy resemble me, but this chance won’t come again," Jumanji thought to himself. "Remaining alone in this forest would only lead to death, so I might as well assume this role and go with them."

  A hidden pang of conscience struck him, realizing the enormity of impersonating someone else and stealing the life of a boy now only a memory in the belly of a beast.

  Yet, as the visions of his family resting beneath the soil of his ruined village flashed through his mind, that pang vanished before the drive to survive; this deception was his only lifeline to reclaim what had once been taken from him.

  He did not utter a word, pressing his lips over a stifled cry deep within himself, whispering to the absent boy’s spirit just one word, heavy enough to bear mountains of regret: "Sorry."

  "You must thank your elder sister, Taskast, for saving your life; had she not intervened at the critical moment, you would now be just another lifeless body.

  From now on, you must understand that this forest is no playground for a boy like you, and I hope this lesson has been etched firmly in your memory."

  Jumanji rose slowly, fixing his gaze on the girl; even without the youth urging him, his heart compelled him to thank her. He nodded with dignity and said quietly: "Thank you, honorable sister."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The young man beside him exploded in anger and shouted: "You fool! Where is the greeting while you thank her? Don’t you know the customs of gratitude towards those older than you?"

  Jumanji could not comprehend the rituals or gestures this youth demanded, as he was, after all, not the boy they sought and did not belong to their tribe to perform this unfamiliar etiquette.

  The girl glanced at him calmly and said: "It’s alright, what matters is that he’s safe now." She then turned toward the bear’s corpse, bent down, and removed her arrow from its head, her gaze fixed on the blood-stained jaw with strange concentration. She added: "It seems this beast devoured something before chasing you, which slowed it down a bit; without that, fate wouldn’t have given you the chance to escape."

  "Elder sister, shall we return now, or is there something else to do?" one of the youths inquired with a tone filled with respect.

  Taskast smiled lightly and replied: "Just 'sister' is enough, no need to add 'elder' every time; we are about the same age, and saying so makes me seem much older than I am."

  The young man nodded, a smile on his face: "It is our tradition, sister; we respect strength wherever it exists and address those stronger than us as 'elder brother' or 'elder sister,' even if they are younger than us."

  He paused for a moment before adding in a submissive tone: "But if it bothers you, you shall have it your way; I won’t utter that word again, Sister Taskast."

  Taskast, gazing at the sky, said: "Very well, let’s tend to Jumanji’s wounds first, then we shall return; the sun is beginning to set, and the forest at night is no place to linger."

  She approached Jumanji and calmly asked him to sit against a nearby tree trunk and reveal his back.

  Jumanji complied silently, removing his clothes from his shoulders, enduring the pain that gnawed at his frail body. Taskast took out a small leather pouch containing gray powder and a tiny bottle of water.

  She mixed a bit of the powder with water in her palm until it formed a thick paste that smelled like aged tree bark. "You may feel a slight burning, but it will stop the bleeding and prevent infection," she said, gently applying the paste over the bear’s claws embedded in his back.

  The treatment was not magical but relied on traditional forest medicine; the powder was a blend of antiseptic herbs and plant roots that help blood clot quickly.

  Jumanji felt a sharp sting, causing his back muscles to contract involuntarily, yet he did not scream, simply squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

  Taskast observed his composure with hidden amazement; this type of remedy causes unbearable pain even for seasoned warriors, so how could this "boy" endure it with such calm?

  When she finished, she took a clean cloth and tightly bound his wound. She turned to the youths: "The bleeding has stopped, but he needs rest and some food. Let us move; we won’t reach the tribe’s walls before nightfall if we don’t."

  Jumanji mustered his strength and stood, silently praising the quality of this primitive treatment that notably eased his pain.

  The group began moving, cutting through the dense forest, with Jumanji trailing behind, observing every motion, ready to begin his new chapter assuming a persona far removed from his own.

  Storms of questions swirled in Jumanji’s mind, the strangest and most perplexing being the astonishing resemblance between him and the boy now a feast for the bear; worse, both shared the same name—"Jumanji." Was it a mere coincidence cast by fate, or were hidden threads woven behind the veil of destiny, making his journey inevitable?

  Jumanji walked silently behind them, weighing every step and surveying his surroundings cautiously, not uttering a single word. This profound silence did not escape the two youths, who exchanged glances of astonishment mixed with mockery; the "Jumanji" they knew was talkative and reckless, unaware of restraint, whereas the boy now trailing them seemed as if his soul had been replaced by a deeper, calmer one.

  The two whispered among themselves, muffled laughter playing on their lips. One murmured softly: "Look at him... the bear’s claws did more than tear his back; they seem to have silenced his tongue as well! I never knew him to be this quiet before."

  The other shook his head laughing: "Didn’t you see how he trembled? No doubt the fear of death robbed him of speech. Even his features... don’t they seem sharper, harsher now?"

  The first mocked: "Man, his color has paled from sheer fear; it’s no wonder his features have changed, or his chatter faded; when death stares at a person, it alters many things... especially a spoiled, weak boy like him."

  Taskast led the way, and though she did not intervene in their conversation, her ears caught their words, and her eyes occasionally glanced at the silent boy, sensing that something about this "Jumanji" did not reflect weakness or terror but total calm, as if his depths mirrored the ocean.

  After an hour of strenuous walking, darkness cast its veil over the forest, turning the trees into towering ghosts swaying with the wind. Suddenly, faint threads of light seeped from the bamboo gaps on the horizon, prompting the youth in gray clothing to announce with relief: "We’ve finally arrived... here is the tribe."

  As they passed the first defensive barriers, Jumanji’s eyes darted left and right like a chameleon’s; he tried to absorb the features of this strange place, unlike anything he had ever seen in his old village.

  The tribe’s enclave was a fortified stronghold nestled within the forest, where nature and architecture blended with astonishing geometry.

  The houses and headquarters were woven from massive bamboo stalks, treated to become as solid as stone, some elevated on wooden platforms to avoid ground moisture.

  As for the lighting, it was not ordinary fire but oil lamps hanging on bamboo poles, emitting warm green halos that imbued the place with a solemn spiritual aura.

  The pathways were paved with smooth stones glistening under the moonlight, while wide training grounds exuded the scent of sweat and iron, signaling that this tribe was not just a residential gathering but a warrior barracks and a source of strength amidst the green concealment.

  The houses with green-tiled roofs were designed to harmonize with the forest’s stillness and shadows, while people moved busily; some engaged in hushed conversations, others attended their daily tasks.

  Jumanji stood lost momentarily, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar surroundings.

  The silence was broken by one of the youths bowing respectfully: "Alright, we’ll leave you here, Sister Taskast."

  The other added with a smile: "Farewell, we’ll meet tomorrow at the training grounds."

  The two youths turned to Jumanji, giving him piercing looks laden with threat; one whispered: "Listen, boy, do not utter a word about what happened in the forest, as I told you before... I’ll strangle you with my hands if you speak!"

  The other muttered coldly, turning his face away: "It’s best for him to remain silent for his own good; if they learn he went out, he’ll face the harshest punishment too."

  As the youths began to leave, three more boys burst onto the scene, rushing towards them, breaths ragged, their eyes locking onto Jumanji in shock.

  One shouted: "Brother Jumanji! Where have you been? We turned the village upside down searching for you, and your parents haven’t stopped asking since noon!"

  The second added in a teasing, slightly mocking tone: "You must have sneaked behind the older brothers again... brace yourself, my friend, for the punishment this time will be severe. Going out at this hour is strictly forbidden, and you know well what that means for everyone."

  End of chapter