Dragon Ball Human

"So this is the one you've chosen?" 

Deep within the eastern Mount Five Elements, a colossal black figure withdrew its gaze. 

Sherie, who had been leisurely admiring the desolate beauty of the landscape, chuckled. "Oh? You were watching him?" 

"He was watching me," the shadowy figure replied flatly. 

"Hehe~ That tone is so like you, Leslie. Even among us, you were the foremost prodigy." Sherie's voice was light. "In my opinion, you might have even surpassed the Grand Priest himself." 

The dark silhouette offered no response. 

Undeterred, Sherie continued, "Otherwise, how could the Omni-King tolerate such rebellion? If someone like me tried to imitate your willfulness—refusing to return to the World Tree to hibernate—the Grand Priest would have dragged me back to the celestial realm personally! Though I suppose I should thank you for escaping. After my assigned universe was erased, this mission to retrieve you gave me a chance to stretch my legs~" 

"Obstructing me is a 'good mission'?" Leslie murmured to himself. 

"Don't unleash that terrifying aura, Leslie," Sherie said, her playful demeanor tightening slightly as she resisted the oppressive force radiating from the dark figure. "What if the Grand Priest notices?" 

"Notices? Has he not already?" A trace of amusement colored Leslie's voice. "The Omni-King's will for my return now rests on you. Would the Grand Priest dare interfere?" 

Sherie didn't reply. 

Leslie didn't press further. "Absorbing the celestial realm's turbid energy to break through human limits… That's a far more effective method than your furnace." His earlier overwhelming presence vanished as quickly as it had come. 

"It's an absurd idea. So absurd that… it shouldn't be possible." Sherie tilted her head. "How does he resist the turbid energy's corruption? I still can't see it clearly… Did you teach him, Leslie? After all, you used a similar method—transforming your body into a demon while retaining your will—" 

"For him, it's a gamble to gain power," Leslie interrupted. "For me, it's a downgrade. That turbid energy can't erode my mind because it's beneath me. There's no 'method' to teach." As a genius among angels, his "fall" was merely a temporary measure to anchor himself to the mortal plane. "But isn't his unpredictability why you chose him?" 

"Hehe~" Sherie smiled. "The rules we set for Annin lacked one crucial role—someone to deal with you. Otherwise, she could never achieve her goal. Do you think… Yamiru can fulfill that duty?" 

Leslie was silent for a long moment before answering indifferently: "We'll know when he dies." 

"'It must be done with self-sacrificial resolve'… How harsh." Sherie echoed Leslie's earlier words softly. "But given your strength, I suppose it's the only way." 

 ---

"'Perish together with the Great Demon King Satan'..." 

In the wilderness, Yamiru sat cross-legged opposite Annin, golden light shimmering in his eyes as he studied the murky demonic energy swirling around them. 

He was turning over Annin's account of Sherie's intentions, recalling the abyssal presence of Satan. 

Months had passed since Abaddon's defeat. 

They had journeyed toward the third Demon King's energy signature, culling leaderless demonic stragglers along the way. 

All the while, Yamiru honed his body and energy—refining his control over 150,000+ power levels in demonic form, and polishing his Earthling base. 

Progress was slow. 

The more he trained, the more acutely he felt the biological gap between himself and warriors like the Saiyans. 

It reminded him of Yamcha—the desert bandit turned Z Fighter. Among the main cast, pure-blooded Earthlings were rare: 

- Piccolo: Namekian. 

- Tenshinhan: Descendant of the three-eyed alien race. 

- Even Krillin, with his noseless face, hardly seemed fully human. 

Looking at Yamcha—arguably the only pure-blooded Earthling among them—his initial power level was even lower than Goku's measly 10. Yet within a year of self-taught training, he had multiplied his strength dozens of times by the World Martial Arts Tournament. His natural talent was undeniable. 

During the Saiyan Saga, he barely kept pace with Krillin and the others, just strong enough to fight a Saibaman. 

His power level hovered around 1,000—proof of his potential. 

But after that? No further growth was documented. Just as Krillin's progress stalled after the Namekian Elder unlocked his potential, Yamcha's strength plateaued. 

Yamiru's own power had been stuck at around 200 for far too long. 

Some things couldn't be changed by optimism alone. 

In terms of innate physical potential, the hierarchy was clear: 

Saiyans > Tenshinhan > Krillin > Yamcha > Yamiru. 

This was an objective fact, unaltered by willpower. 

Those who watched Usain Bolt cross the finish line from afar understood the insurmountable gap better than anyone. 

The closer one got to the peak, the more they felt the ceiling pressing coldly against their skull. 

So in the Android Saga, Yamcha—pierced through the heart—finally stopped. 

After Namek, Krillin never fought another true battle. 

Tenshinhan drifted further from the spotlight. What was he thinking? 

'Was it the same as when I left alone for Mount Five Elements, searching for a sliver of change?' 

Yamiru wondered. 

---

"To challenge Satan is to either lose and die, or win by dying. That was Master's warning." Annin's voice was distant. "The best outcome against Satan is mutual destruction… Did I ever try facing him directly? I truly can't remember. But knowing myself, I must have." 

Yamiru said, "You challenged him once and were killed. That's why you don't recall." 

Annin sighed. "Back then, I wasn't even worthy of dying with him." 

"So now you… won't challenge him again unless absolutely necessary." 

"Yes." 

"Is that caution… or cowardice?" 

Annin laughed weakly, then stopped. "Cowardice, probably." 

"Failure after failure, lifetime after lifetime of pain! The accumulated despair! Annin, your scarred, exhausted heart has been planted with seeds of hopelessness. You long stopped believing you'd ever see the light…" 

Annin covered her face with a hand, exhaling softly. 

"Sometimes you resent your master. 'Why me?' When there's no chance of success. 'Why was I chosen?' 'Why must I suffer this endless cycle?'… You're so tired. Every time you die, you pray for true oblivion—only to open your eyes again to this hopeless world." 

Silence. 

Between her fingers, a faint red glow flickered at the corners of her eyes. 

"Annin!" 

A sharp call snapped her back. 

The warrior woman blinked, startled to find the surroundings changed. Yamiru's hand was on her shoulder, his golden eyes—steady as ever—studying her with concern. 

"You alright? Be careful. We seem to have walked into a Demon King's trap…"