Dragon Ball Roshi

The night was cool as water, the moonlight misty like fog.

At the peak of a high mountain cliff, a little boy with messy black hair, utterly exhausted, leaned against a spherical rock and unknowingly fell into a deep sleep. Crack. Crack. Behind him, the rock began to emit faint noises, as though something within was fracturing. The mountaintop was quiet, only the wind howled past, wailing like a sobbing child.

A shadow flew up from below the cliff, landing silently beside the sleeping boy, silhouetted against the moonlight.

Taro stood silently, gazing down at the sleeping Kakarrot. Then he looked up at the round and bright moon, thinking silently to himself: Was it the special electromagnetic waves emitted by the full moon, combined with Goku's own mental slumber, that allowed Kakarrot's personality to emerge…? Crack. A faint noise reached his ears, and Taro's gaze shifted toward the rock that Kakarrot was leaning against.

Next to the spherical rock, a speck of stone dust flaked off and drifted slowly to the ground.

"It's him… it's him… looks just like him… that man… terrifying… so terrifying…"

From within the rock, a nearly fully awakened consciousness was thinking. It had sensed Taro's aura, and a sense of impending death gripped it. It was a fear etched into the very bloodline—so overwhelming that its thoughts froze, and instinctively it retracted all waves of consciousness, quieting completely, pretending to be nothing more than an ordinary rock.

Taro didn't spare the stone a second glance. With a flick of his finger, Kakarrot was lifted by an invisible force, and Taro flew down the mountain with him. He tossed the soundly sleeping Goku—out like a dead pig—back into his bedroom. Krillin was still fast asleep, completely unaware of everything that had just happened.

As he passed his own bedroom, Taro paused at the door. Jarvis, ever thoughtful, turned the crystalline wall of the door transparent, allowing a faint glow to shine through. Inside, on the soft bed, Hathaway and Bulma were sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. As if sensing something, Hathaway suddenly awoke. She saw her husband standing just outside the now-transparent wall and smiled softly. She pointed at the sleeping Bulma beside her, indicating she couldn't get out of bed.

Taro shook his head, silently telling her to rest well and take good care of their little granddaughter, Bulma. After he left, the crystal wall turned opaque again.

Ever since she had shared her life with Taro, Hathaway's constitution had changed in a peculiar way. It wasn't that she now shared Taro's unfathomable power, but rather… in a subtle way, her body had begun to adapt due to her new immortality. The cause and effect had reversed—not that her body changed and then she gained longevity, but she first obtained great longevity, which in turn reshaped her body and improved her constitution.

Because of this, if Hathaway wished, she could go several days and nights without sleep, and it wouldn't matter in the slightest.

Leaving the house once more and flying into the sky, Taro sat cross-legged midair. His eyes were distant and unfocused, as if no object could anchor his gaze—yet it seemed like all of existence lay within them. He was not only breathing, meditating, and refining natural ki—he was silently contemplating the divine path of natural ki in his heart.

God of Destruction Beerus had once said that the more a divine nature strays from the subjective self, the harder it is to transcend.

According to him, the ancestors of the Saiyans had once included a true god who wielded a divine nature based solely on rage, rampaging through the era before this cosmic age and even troubling Beerus himself… Without a doubt, that divine nature of rage was one completely detached from the conscious self.

Among the three divine paths Taro pursued, whether it was mental will or boundary transcendence, they still relied largely on the concept of self.

But natural ki was different.

It did not depend on me, but on it. This it referred to the endless, boundless ki that had existed since the age of the primordial universe and throughout the twelve universes—before and after any cosmic epoch. The universe is like a giant container, filled with natural ki invisible to mortal eyes. When this ki gathers and becomes dense enough, it gives birth to celestial bodies.

Planets, stars… even moons and meteors…

Some special celestial bodies, born of condensed natural ki, would foster life due to the abundant natural ki on their surfaces. Over a long evolution, these lifeforms' inner ki would become impure—stirred by lifeforce and mental noise—yet this impurity would create endless variables and possibilities. Thus, intelligent civilizations arose.

And Taro…

If he wished to become a god through natural ki, he would have to go against the flow, press forward courageously, with no room to retreat. He had to forget the self—to reach out and comprehend the natural ki that shaped the world, to imagine what "it" truly was… This was no simple task. Otherwise, the God of Destruction wouldn't have said this path was so arduous.

For intelligent beings, the most fundamental thing is self—the concept of I.

Thus, divine paths rooted in subjectivity are more suitable—or rather, easier—for intelligent life to grasp, to understand, and to transcend.

But to comprehend a universal truth like "natural ki," one must relinquish the self-righteous pride of intelligent life. Without this, true insight would remain forever out of reach. And here lies the paradox…

A block of wood cannot become a god.

So too, a person who has truly and completely abandoned the concept of "self" cannot truly ascend or transcend.

To walk this path requires more than selflessness—it also requires self.

The former is essential.

The latter is the core.

Otherwise… the ultimate fate is to be swallowed by the endless tide of natural ki—becoming a part of "it," and forever losing the self.

---

The night passed without disturbance. A faint light began to appear over the distant sea horizon.

"Whew…"

Taro exhaled softly, gazing into the distance at a streak of white over the inky-black ocean—that was dawn, herald of life's return.

He descended lightly, landing at the edge of Mirror Lake. It was around four-thirty in the morning. The scenery on Muten Island remained unchanged. Taro stood quietly by the lake for a while, and before long, Goku and Krillin came running down the mountain, looking full of energy.

"I feel a bit tired…" Goku said curiously as he ran.

"Huh? No way… I feel pretty much back to normal," Krillin muttered. Of course, he had no idea that Kakarrot had taken control of Goku's body in the middle of the night and forced it through a long, grueling climb—on top of already being exhausted.

Goku scratched his head. "Weird… oh well, who cares!" He laughed cheerfully and quickly brushed it aside.