Dragon Ball Human

Yamiru's body—merely slightly above average among Earthlings—still limited him. 

His understanding of martial arts, his relentless training—none of it fell short of Krillin, Yamcha, or the others. Yet, after breaking past 100, his foundational power grew excruciatingly slow. 

But it wasn't just Yamiru. 

Was Master Roshi lacking in talent? What about Mutaito? 

Yet both of these grandmasters of Earth's martial arts, across two generations, had fallen to the Demon King Piccolo, whose power barely scraped past 200. Even old Son Gohan wasn't lacking. Yamiru didn't believe his own martial talent surpassed his master's. 

But Son Gohan's physique was that of an ordinary man, so his skills were merely passable, barely breaking 100. 

If he had swapped souls with his fellow disciple Ox-King, Yamiru reckoned his master could've long surpassed 500 in power. His ki would've broken free from his physical shackles, allowing more efficient refinement, launching him onto a rapid upward trajectory—just like Krillin and Yamcha in the original timeline, swiftly pushing their ki past 1,000, then 2,000, 3,000… And with the right opportunities—say, surviving the Ultra Divine Water, or, more absurdly, receiving a power unlock from the Namekian Elder—breaking 10,000 wouldn't have been impossible. 

But these were all just what-ifs. 

Yamiru's body wasn't much better than his master's. Compared to his dear brother Goku? The difference was like mud and clouds. 

That he had managed to push past 300 was already the result of both talent and fortune. 

First, his frequent demonic transformations—especially after arriving in this era tens of thousands of years ago—had deepened his understanding of demonic energy (or rather, the impure ki of the heavens). This likely had a subtle influence on his body. After all, demonic corruption inherently altered the flesh, even granting regenerative effects akin to Namekians. 

Second, Yamiru had been fortunate enough to possess Yamoshi's body, experiencing firsthand the sensation of high-tier power. He had intimately grasped what it felt like when Ki amassed to a certain magnitude. With this elevated perspective, his comprehension of Ki and martial arts had ascended to a realm beyond that of Gohan, Roshi, Tao Pai Pai, or even Mutaito—a level no Earthling martial artist in tens of thousands of years had ever reached. It was an entirely different paradigm. 

Yet despite his talent, opportunities, and relentless effort, Yamiru had only managed to push his power to 300. 

At 300, he finally understood how Krillin must've felt during the Buu Saga, with his measly few thousand power level. He mocked himself—'This is probably my limit, huh?' 

Truthfully… back when he had the Dragon Balls, Yamiru could've replaced his body in countless ways. 

He could've cloned a body identical to Goku's or Vegeta's. 

Hell, he could've even used Shenron to custom-make a Cell-like body (appearance excluded, of course). 

But the martial artist in him refused. 

The reason was simple. 

Would Roshi or Son Gohan ever stoop so low for a power boost? Impossible. 

Martial masters had pride. 

Even if their power was pitifully low, every ounce of it was earned through blood, sweat, and ingenuity. 

That was worth being proud of. 

No shame in that. 

Swapping to a cheat-loaded body—hitting 100 million in a year, a trillion in five, surpassing all logic in ten—always staying ahead of Goku, trampling Vegeta, effortlessly crushing every enemy with sheer stat advantage… 

Well, his bro Goku could do that too. In fact, that was exactly what he did in the original timeline—and he did it damn well. 

You could always count on Goku. 

When a high-tier threat emerged, Goku would always step up. 

And if he couldn't, his big bro Yamiru would find a way to make sure he could—fast. 

So why would Yamiru, as a martial artist, ever beg Shenron for a 'reroll'? 

Using the Dragon Balls to 'delete and restart' was crude and lazy. The real credit would go to Shenron or Saiyan cells—what did that have to do with Yamiru? Hell, stick a random dog in a custom Saiyan body, dump the Dragon Ball manga into its brain, and it'd probably unlock Super Saiyan too… 

'Tch. Where's the flavor in that?' 

---

After rambling for 1,200 words in his head, Yamiru—now fully transformed into a demonic dragon after unleashing his Ki at the 300,000 level—looked utterly inhuman. Toss him into a crowd of demons, and no one would mistake him for a human. 

"Let's go." His dark golden eyes flicked toward Annin. With a nod, his spiked tail lashed the ground, carving a smooth, crescent-shaped fissure. 

The two shot into the air, hovering as they faced Mount Five Elements. 

Staring at the distant, ash-gray horizon, Yamiru suddenly grinned. "We've killed four Demon Kings already. That should be enough to get me into heaven after death, right?" His demonic smile was horrifying—jagged teeth bared, his cold, reptilian gaze gleaming with menace. 

Annin, unaffected, simply nodded. Having trained under an angelic master, she knew a thing or two about the afterlife. 

"You're stronger than me. Maybe you'll get a godly position straight up," Yamiru added. 

"As long as Satan lives, I won't die," Annin said flatly. If she couldn't even die, what use was heaven or godhood? 

She glanced at him. "You sent Master to find that person. Are you planning to…?" 

"Hah! You've always wondered about my 'coma', right?" Yamiru chuckled. "I learned a lot. You'll see soon enough." 

*BOOM!* 

With a burst of Ki, he rocketed forward. 

Annin's body flared with white energy as she streaked after him in a straight, blazing trail. 

Boom! Boom! Boom! 

Yamiru accelerated relentlessly toward Mount Five Elements. 

Annin struggled to keep up. 

Streaking through the howling wind, she reached into her robes and gripped the shrunken Furnace of Eight Divisions. After a brief silence, she slowly closed her eyes... 

Soon, the furnace began to glow faintly. 

When Annin reopened her eyes, flames seemed to blaze within them. The white aura around her body now shimmered with golden light, tongues of fire dancing at its edges. 

Boom! 

Her speed surged abruptly, her flight path erupting like oil meeting flame. Wreathed in golden fire, she quickly caught up to Yamiru. 

"Made up your mind?" Yamiru flew alongside her. 

"Master's two conditions only leave one path—another Earthling, strong enough to defy this era, working with me. One to seal the rift in spacetime with the Furnace, the other to fight Satan." Annin's voice was steady. "I doubt there'll ever be another like you." 

"Hah, true enough!" Yamiru laughed. "Maybe I am history!" 

He said something Annin didn't quite grasp, then suddenly rocketed ahead even faster. 

Annin matched his acceleration. 

A streak of white and a streak of gold tore across Earth's leaden sky like twin arrows, slicing through the oppressive air. 

Like two meteors, they blazed over the scarred land below. 

Across the planet, every martial artist capable of sensing Ki froze mid-action, their heads snapping upward in unison—toward the same direction. 

The direction where the shadow looming over all Earthlings lay. 

Toward Mount Five Elements. 

Toward the Great Demon King Satan. 

Those two auras were undeniably powerful, but compared to the abyssal darkness of Satan's presence, they were little more than moths charging into flame. 

Two moths, accelerating relentlessly toward their fate. 

---

Near Mount Five Elements. 

Yamiru and Annin, flying side by side at breakneck speed, spotted two figures hovering in the air ahead. 

Sherie, floating with her scepter in hand, smiled as they approached. Mr. Popo stood atop his magic carpet, expressionless as ever. 

Whoosh! Yamiru and Annin came to an abrupt halt before them. 

"Thanks for the help," Yamiru nodded to Sherie. 

"No need," Sherie giggled. "Since Annin refused, he could scour the entire planet and still not find anyone more suitable than you, Yamiru." 

Yamiru grinned—though in his current draconic form, the expression was nothing short of terrifying. 

Faced with this monstrous, barely humanoid creature, Mr. Popo spoke slowly: 

"Mr. Popo knows you and Annin killed four Demon Kings. Mr. Popo acknowledges you as Earth's new Guardian. Do you accept?" 

Yamiru's nightmarish smile widened. "I accept." 

The moment he spoke, he felt something inexplicable take root within him. Not some sudden, foreign power—but rather an understanding, an epiphany... the granting of authority. 

The Underworld belonged to the minor celestial realm, a branch of the Celestial Ream's domain. 

From this moment on, he was part of the Celestial's divine order. 

He could sense it—countless divine techniques now at his fingertips. Or, as he'd put it: "New job perks, immediate access." The ability to enter and exit the Underworld, the right to stand before King Yemma, and most crucially, the one privilege Yamiru valued above all... 

Annin watched him silently. Yamiru adapted swiftly to this transformation, then nodded at her. "Let's go!" 

Whoosh! Whoosh! 

The two veered around Sherie and Popo's carpet, charging headlong toward the demon-shrouded, sinister silhouette of Mount Five Elements... From afar, the mountain range resembled a colossal, heaven-blocking claw... 

And Yamiru and Annin? 

They were but ants leaping into the demon's palm. 

"SATAN!!" 

Yamiru's roar echoed across the mountains. 

"Who's calling me?" 

A deranged figure emerged from the depths—the fifth Demon King, Birei. 

He squinted at the duo hovering in the sky. One wreathed in golden flames, radiating lethality; the other a draconic monstrosity, almost... cute? 

"Not you." Yamiru couldn't be bothered. With a flick of his finger, a ki beam lanced out, piercing Birei's heart. 

--- 

(Author's Note: In the original Dragon Ball manga, power levels were abandoned after Freeza's first transformation ("Over one million!"). After that, they were never mentioned again. As for Krillin—during the Android, Cell, and Buu arcs—there's zero indication his power increased significantly post-Namek. My take? He plateaued after the Elder's potential unlock, stuck at a modest few thousand. Ten years of stagnation—three pre-Androids, seven pre-Buu—left him comfortably sidelined. Which, frankly, I prefer. Though I'm sure supplementary materials inflated his numbers to millions, billions... Popular character privileges, I guess.)