Dragon Ball Human

The forest was dim and filled with shadowy illusions.

"Woo, woo, woo..."

A striped saber-toothed tiger was running for its life, panting heavily, terrified of the ferocious "monster" pursuing it.

Whoosh, whoosh.

A small black figure darted through the underbrush, occasionally swinging from hanging vines, effortlessly tailing the panicked saber-toothed tiger.

The tiger ran with all its might.

The figure pursued with ease.

The distance between them shrank bit by bit. The tiger's legs moved so fast they almost seemed like wheels spinning, but no matter how desperately it fled, it couldn't shake off the pursuer.

"Hee-hee."

A clean, childish voice echoed through the woods.

The pursuer dashed through a gap where sunlight broke through the forest canopy, revealing an innocent, childlike face filled with a mischievous smile.

The saber-toothed tiger was so scared it nearly wet itself.

With a final burst of speed, it burst out of the forest into an open area, only to find itself at the edge of a perilous cliff.

And there, at the edge of the cliff, stood a person.

Upon seeing this person, the terrified tiger, despite its fear of the "monster" behind it, immediately stopped. Its front paws trembled as it knelt and bowed low, too frightened to move forward.

The man had a peculiar turtle shell strapped to his back and was balancing on one hand at the cliff's edge.

The muscles in his arm bulged and trembled slightly as he worked to maintain his balance, his body occasionally swaying precariously. It looked as though he might accidentally fall off the cliff at any moment.

Yet, in stark contrast to the visible strain on his body, his face remained serene, his eyes closed in a peaceful expression, as if he felt no discomfort at all.

His mind seemed utterly at ease, undisturbed by the physical exertion. Like a stone unmoved by wind or fire, enduring even the harshest winter as if it were a spring breeze.

No one knew how long he had been balancing there on one hand.

The ground beneath him was stained dark by the accumulated sweat.

The man didn't seem to notice the saber-toothed tiger that had crawled close and now trembled in submission, too afraid to move.

Drip.

A bead of sweat fell from his hair and splashed onto the darkened ground.

"Wah!" A figure suddenly leaped out of the forest—it was none other than the innocent and lively Son Goku. Sliding to a stop, he laughed and said, "Oh, Yamiru, you're still here!"

The man balancing on one hand, Yamiru, finally opened his eyes.

Golden pupils gleamed momentarily, filled with deep thought before fading to a normal brownish-black color.

He exhaled softly, pushed off the ground with both hands, and landed heavily on his feet.

Compared to two years ago, his height was now remarkably different.

Yamiru wasn't a Saiyan, whose growth spurts were bizarrely unpredictable. When he arrived in the Dragon Ball world, his body had reverted to that of a ten-year-old. Four years had passed since then, and now he was entering the rapid growth phase of adolescence. Thanks to constant martial arts training and a diet rich in meat and milk, his height had shot up to nearly 1.7 meters.

"Have you been bullying it again?" Yamiru sighed.

Son Goku walked over to the saber-toothed tiger, patting its trembling body. With a frustrated pout, he said, "But I really wanted to eat it! We haven't had tiger meat in so long."

"It's the last male tiger around Mount Paozu. You absolutely can't eat it," Yamiru said, ruffling his younger companion's thick hair, damp with the warmth unique to children. "If you eat it, this species will go extinct here. Where will you find more tiger meat in the future? Hold back for now."

"Alright." Son Goku agreed cheerfully.

"Get lost!" Yamiru kicked the terrified saber-toothed tiger, which immediately scrambled to its feet and bolted back into the forest as if granted a reprieve from death.

The two began their walk home together.

"Where's your turtle shell?" Yamiru asked.

Son Goku swung a stick, swiping at the undergrowth as they walked. "Grandpa said wearing it all the time isn't good for my body. He let me take it off after training."

Yamiru nodded in understanding.

"It's really heavy," Son Goku said, marveling. Then, curious, he asked, "Yamiru, is yours heavier?"

"Yeah, yours is 20 kilograms. Mine is 60."

"Twenty... sixty..."

Son Goku started counting on his fingers.

Thankfully, Yamiru had taught him basic skills like reading, writing, and arithmetic during their idle moments.

"Three times as much! Wow," Son Goku exclaimed. "So you're carrying three of mine? That's amazing, Yamiru!"

"It's just part of training," Yamiru replied with a smile.

In truth, weighted training wasn't exactly a revolutionary concept.

Fitness enthusiasts and professional fighters often used weights in their training. But unlike Yamiru, they lacked the high-level understanding of "mind-body harmony" that allowed him to maximize the growth gained from physical exertion.

Furthermore, not all weights were the same.

With his current strength, Yamiru could easily handle 160 kilograms, not to mention 60.

However, for long-term, day-in-day-out training, he deliberately chose a more moderate weight. While 160 kilograms would push his body harder and draw out more potential, it would shift from training into self-torture — something at odds with the relaxed and balanced philosophy of the Turtle School's training.

Even during the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament, when Son Goku descended from the heavens, his weighted clothes were only slightly over 100 kilograms.

Was that all he could handle at the time?

Of course not. By then, his strength far surpassed Yamiru's current level.

The difference was that Goku's weighted clothing was designed for everyday wear, while Yamiru's turtle shell was a tool specifically for prolonged training. To avoid overburdening his body and risking counterproductive effects, he stuck to a reasonable weight.

This careful balance of intensity and restraint reflected the wisdom and foresight of a true martial artist.

Yamiru, at this point, considered himself, albeit barely, a martial artist.

---

The two returned to the mountain cabin.

Son Gohan was reading a book.

"Back already?" The elderly man put down the book and said gently, "Rest for a bit, lunch is almost ready."

Yamiru hadn't been doing the milk delivery training and similar tasks for quite a while.

In recent times, Son Gohan's disciple had been practicing alone in the mountains.

In reality, the true value of the Turtle School's teachings lay in the seemingly nonsensical practices, which concealed hidden wisdom. Once one understood the underlying principles — whether through clear recognition or through subtle adaptation of one's behavior to the Turtle School's methods — it marked the moment when one could leave the master.

Yamiru had clearly understood this, and his body had unconsciously adapted as well.

He was ready to leave the master.

Son Gohan had noticed this long ago and had gradually loosened his grip, allowing his disciple to practice on his own in the mountains.

However, like before, Son Gohan had not brought it up directly.

He was still waiting.

Just as he had waited two years ago for Yamiru to realize the importance of "Work Hard, Study Well and Eat and Sleep plenty", this time, he was waiting for Yamiru to himself declare that he was ready to leave.

Without the courage and confidence to surpass his predecessors, how could one surpass oneself?

Master Gohan silently waited for his disciple to say goodbye as a true martial artist, to leave and seek his own path.

He quietly anticipated this moment.

Yamiru was preparing ingredients for lunch with Goku. He washed vegetables while Goku washed the pot and chopped firewood.

"Let me see... It's almost been two years," Yamiru thought silently.

"Two years, then another two... four years since I left the Martial Arts Tournament, and now I..."

Yamiru scooped water to wash the vegetables, looking at his hand reflected in the clear water.

Compared to four years ago, his strength had undergone a complete transformation.

Moreover, it was the kind of stillness that spurred action.

Yamiru also felt that his training in Paozu Mountain had reached its conclusion.

Though somewhat reluctant, Yamiru still proposed to his teacher after lunch that he wanted to leave the mountain and explore the outside world.

Son Gohan showed a joyful smile.

He had been waiting.

This disciple had never disappointed him. He was not the kind of spineless person who feared authority but one who dared to walk his own path.

Seeing his teacher's familiar smile, Yamiru's eyes immediately filled with tears.

With just one look, he understood his teacher's thoughts, deeply touched. While caring for him in a comforting, affectionate way was appreciated, what moved Yamiru even more was Son Gohan's silent and unwavering wait, preparing for his long-term future. It made Yamiru feel immense respect and gratitude. His nose tingled, and he stepped forward to embrace Son Gohan.

"Master..."

"Hehe, no crying, no crying," Son Gohan patted his disciple's arm. "You're already taller than me, why cry? Go out and see the world; there's a place for you out there."

Yamiru let go, and they both wiped their eyes.

He smiled and said, "Master, when I return, I'll definitely be stronger than you!"

Son Gohan laughed, "That would be even better."

After Goku had eaten his fill, he lay beside them, and the somewhat wistful atmosphere seemed to stir fragments of memories within him. For a moment, he was lost.

---

Before packing his bags to leave, Yamiru glanced several times at Goku.

When he finished packing, Yamiru was surprised to find that Son Gohan had prepared change of clothes for both him and Goku.

Meanwhile, Son Gohan was tying a red staff to Goku's back.

"Remember to listen to Yamiru and be a good child, okay?" Son Gohan squatted down and instructed his little grandson.

"Okay, Grandpa," Goku nodded, allowing Son Gohan to secure the strings of the staff to his chest.

"Time flies, it's almost time for Goku's tail to grow back. Be careful on the road," Son Gohan patted Yamiru's shoulder. "Let Goku see more of the world, experience different cultures. It's a good thing. A lively and active child like him, stuck in these mountains with this old man, would be pitiful."

"Master, you..." Yamiru paused, "You need to take care of yourself."

Son Gohan laughed heartily, "I'm not old yet, I can live another ten or twenty years. Don't worry."

Yamiru smiled.

Goku, with the staff on his back, remained unusually quiet.

At last, before leaving, Yamiru took the Four-Star Dragon Ball and tucked it into his chest.

"Master, may I borrow your Four-Star Dragon Ball?"

"Oh? Right, you mentioned before that there are seven of these beads, and when gathered..." Son Gohan was surprised at first, but then looked at the confused Goku beside Yamiru. He smiled and nodded. "Take it and use it. As for the one from Master Roshi, just have Goku call for the Flying Nimbus to take you there."

"I'll handle it," Yamiru nodded.

Following the path they had walked countless times during their training, Son Gohan escorted his two grandsons to the foot of the mountain, giving them some parting advice along the way.

Though Yamiru was already an expert in outdoor survival and long-distance trekking, he still quietly listened.

At the foot of the mountain, Yamiru sincerely bowed to Son Gohan.

Son Gohan remained still, accepting the bow.

"Master, I'm leaving."

"Take care of yourself, and take care of Goku."

"Mm."

"Goodbye, Goku." Son Gohan waved cheerfully to Goku, "Listen to Yamiru... well, never mind, just be happy and enjoy yourself. Got it?"

"Okay..." Goku nodded. In his ears, faint voices seemed to come from an incredibly distant place: "Goodbye... Kakarot..."

Son Gohan stood at the foot of the mountain, watching the two children gradually disappear, feeling a mix of emotions for their growth and the passing of time.

"Goku, why are you crying?"

"Am I? Wow, really? Why though?"

Yamiru, with Goku, walked toward West City, never looking back.

---

Yamiru: 110

Goku: 66

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