Dragon Ball Roshi

The white-bearded old man wearing sunglasses silently spread his divine sense, extending it into the infinite void, threading through the cold reaches of the universe. It soon arrived at the distant edge of the galaxy, descending upon a planet that looked like it was teetering on the brink of apocalypse.

"Hm? That fat North Kai is watching this too?"

The moment his divine sense descended, he immediately noticed another presence—one far above that of mortals—lingering in the area.

Then, he turned his attention to the scene on the planet—a young man exchanging blows with Frieza!

The young man was treating Frieza like a punching bag, but the old man didn't seem too impressed.

He knew all too well the depths of Frieza's true power.

With the strength this young man currently displayed, there was no way he could defeat Frieza.

"Tsk. Is this the mortal martial artist that fat North Kai has taken an interest in? Not bad… but what a shame. His power is still too weak. Against Frieza, this is nowhere near enough. What's worse, he seems reckless—engaging Frieza without even understanding the full extent of his power? Once Frieza transforms, he'll probably be killed in an instant."

"This kid's impulsiveness I can understand, but what's wrong with that fat North Kai? Letting his chosen martial artist challenge Frieza like this? If he truly had faith in the boy, he should've waited until he had grown stronger!"

The old man shook his head in disappointment as he balanced his boombox on his shoulder.

He had hoped the universe had finally produced someone capable of standing up to Frieza, only to find a fool who didn't know his own limits.

But suddenly, something felt off.

The more he watched, the more peculiar it seemed.

"Wait a minute… something's not right. What's going on here? This young man's power level doesn't match the strength of his attacks. His ki barely measures up to 1.5 million, and yet his strikes… they're delivering ten, maybe even twenty times that in destructive force!"

The old man furrowed his brow, putting aside his casual demeanor to observe more closely.

In the scene before him, Frieza was undergoing his second transformation, while Taro was relentlessly attacking him during the process using his ocular technique!

Although Taro's energy signature lingered around 1.5 million, the explosiveness of his punches defied logic.

As a master martial artist himself, the old man could sense something unusual in Taro's movements.

"This… this has to be a power increase of over tenfold, maybe more!"

"How strange. Could it be that he's suppressing his true strength? Only letting it explode in the instant he attacks? But… how could a mere mortal martial artist conceal his ki so thoroughly, even from my eyes?"

The old man clicked his tongue in amazement, a thought forming in his mind.

"Is it that fat North Kai's so-called 'Kaioken'? No, that's not right. I've glanced at it before—what a crude and unimpressive technique. It's just a gimmick. It places immense strain on the body, and the power it unleashes is difficult to control. To achieve the level of explosive power this young man is demonstrating, his body would've broken down under the strain long ago!"

At that moment, on the distant planet, Taro used Instant Transmission combined with his Destructo Disk to sever Frieza's arm.

"Instant Transmission? And this ki-based technique… What kind of martial art is this? The ingenuity is remarkable—it generates such devastating cutting power with such a modest energy investment!"

"And what's more, he's able to integrate Instant Transmission seamlessly into his attacks? Striking from a distance, then using Instant Transmission to directly land the attack on his opponent? Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. But this can't be easy—it requires breaking free from the rigid thought patterns ingrained in most martial artists."

The old man's admiration grew as he continued to watch.

The battle on the distant planet had come to an end, and the young man who had fought Frieza had vanished from the scene. Even the old man's divine sense could no longer track his presence.

Uninterested in watching Frieza's raging tantrum, the old man withdrew his divine sense.

He stroked his long white beard thoughtfully, murmuring to himself: "Techniques to amplify power… the ability to use Instant Transmission… Tsk, tsk, fascinating. Truly fascinating. Hmm… it seems it's been a long time since the last Martial Arts Tournament…"

After a moment of consideration, he adjusted the boombox on his shoulder and pressed a button—

Click!

Dynamic music blared once more.

---

Time shifted, stars realigned, and in the blink of an eye, the galaxy was crossed.

With a single use of Instant Transmission, Taro traversed the vastness of space, returning from the apocalyptic Magic Planet to the serene Yardrat.

His body bore the scars of his battle with Frieza, yet he appeared in the Pierus Mountains, where the Yardratians had settled, floating in the cold, biting wind.

The wind howled around him as the wounds on his body began to heal. The energy he had expended in the fight rapidly replenished itself.

Taro's eyes, black as ink, scanned the mountain below. Groups of Yardratians were faintly visible across the vast land.

A sharp cry echoed from the heavens.

It was the unmistakable call of the Phoenix.

The crimson bird, bound to Taro in mind and spirit, had sensed his return the moment he reappeared. With a joyous cry, it spread its wide wings and descended swiftly from the skies.

Circling Taro a few times, the Phoenix eventually hovered beside him, its fiery gaze fixed on his right arm.

"Haha… I'm fine," Taro said, raising his injured right arm to stroke the bird's feathers.

The arm, which Frieza had broken with a powerful kick, had already begun to heal thanks to his incredible regenerative abilities. Enduring the pain, Taro had manually reset the fractured bone, and his divine tree-enhanced constitution had worked rapidly to mend it.

Though still a bit numb, the arm was already mostly functional.

Meanwhile, in a nearby cave, the holy mage was deep in conversation with an elderly Yardratian. This elder, akin to a living fossil, was sharing knowledge about the traditions and secrets of the Yardratian people.

The basics, for instance, included understanding which plants in the forest were edible, which were poisonous, which crops were suitable for cultivation, the behavior of local animals, and the seasonal climate changes throughout the year. These were all critical survival details for the Magic Planet immigrants, and naturally, the holy mage gave them his utmost attention.

The elder, being old, tired easily from prolonged speech. As a result, the holy mage communicated with him entirely through telepathy.

This method also had the added benefit of being more intuitive and visual when describing the forms of various plants and animals.

Thanks to their unique racial traits, Yardratians were incredibly receptive to new concepts. The elder remained calm and composed as he communicated telepathically with the holy mage.

Meanwhile, the holy mage's mental link extended to all the Magic Planet immigrants scattered across the planet. While conversing with the Yardratian elder, he shared all the gathered information with the immigrants through this psychic network. The information, complete with vivid imagery, was disseminated in an efficient manner, ensuring the immigrants memorized it thoroughly.

The Yardratian tribal leader, also present in the cave, suddenly glanced outside and remarked; "He's returned."

The holy mage paused his exchange with the elder, nodded lightly, and said: "Excuse me for a moment."

The Yardratian elder nodded in understanding. After experiencing the convenience of telepathic communication, he seemed even less inclined to speak aloud.

The holy mage and the tribal leader flew out of the cave together. From a distance, they spotted the crimson Phoenix hovering in the sky beside Taro. The holy mage immediately understood the situation—since the Phoenix had been forged with Taro's blood, its connection to him was unsurprising.

The two approached.

"How did it go over there?" the holy mage asked, levitating with telekinetic ease.

Taro waved his hand, signaling the Phoenix to amuse itself, and then shook his head. "By the time I arrived, the planet was already in ruins. When they couldn't find anyone left alive, they decided to destroy the planet entirely."

"Vile scoundrels!" the tribal leader exclaimed angrily. He had every reason to empathize—after all, a hundred years ago, his own planet had nearly been destroyed by a group of rampaging great apes.

The holy mage remained silent, eventually letting out a long sigh.

Taro, too, fell into silence.

The three flew side by side toward the cave below.

Along the way, Taro noticed the tribal leader glancing at him repeatedly, only to look away each time their eyes met. Curious, Taro asked, "What's the matter?"

The tribal leader scratched his face awkwardly but couldn't suppress his curiosity. Finally, in a quiet voice, he asked, "May I ask… how did you suddenly disappear and then reappear just now?"

Taro was stunned.

"Aren't you the ones with Instant Transmission? Why are you asking me?"

He froze for a moment, then his expression turned peculiar:

"Wait… could it be that the Yardratians developed their Instant Transmission technique because of me?"

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