Watching Broly eat with such focus and contentment, watching him toddle across the beach and clumsily chase after the Sea Turtle, listening to his steady breathing as he slept...
Master Roshi suddenly felt that the island seemed to have gained a great deal of life and warmth he had never experienced before.
And so, under excuses like "Let's observe him a little longer" and "Let's see if there's a better family," the search for an adoptive family was put off indefinitely.
From then on, Broly, the Legendary Super Saiyan, officially settled into the home of Earth's God of Martial Arts.
And so, more than a decade flowed by like water.
Age 749.
Warm sunlight spilled over the blue sea and white sandy beach. A gentle sea breeze carried a fresh, salty scent.
Inside Master Roshi's House.
Just like all those years before.
Master Roshi sat cross-legged in front of the TV, wearing the outrageous sunglasses that never left his nose and a brightly colored beach shirt, completely absorbed in the aerobics show playing on the screen.
On the screen, a group of young, beautiful women were full of energy.
A familiar, lovestruck smile hung on Master Roshi's lips, and a little drool was just visible.
In stark contrast to the enticing scene inside, the beach outside presented a very different sight.
Broly, now seventeen, had long since outgrown his infantile innocence and grown into a tall, upright young man with lean muscle and handsome, dashing features.
His thick black hair fell loosely around him, giving him an untamed, wild charm.
At that moment, Broly was performing the most important activity of his day with something approaching solemn reverence.
Eating!
Broly sat kneeling on a neatly spread blue picnic mat, carrying out each movement with meticulous care.
In front of him were twenty-five clean, gleaming plates of various sizes, lined up in perfect order.
Each plate held a different food, from perfectly roasted meat and pan-fried fish to colorful fruit and vegetable salads, rice balls, and even a few small dishes that looked like dipping sauces.
Meat and vegetables were well balanced, the colors complemented each other, and the placement and spacing of everything seemed to have been precisely calculated.
Everything was arranged in perfect order, a work of art.
Broly carefully inspected every plate. Only after confirming that nothing was amiss did he rub his hands together in satisfaction, pick up his utensils, and begin to enjoy his feast—slowly, yet at astonishing speed.
Broly ate with complete focus, as if savoring the greatest pleasure in the world.
Each movement carried an elegance at odds with his powerful physique.
After years of watching Broly keep up this unchanging dining ritual, come rain or shine...
Master Roshi had gone from initial astonishment and teasing, to numb acceptance, and finally to taking it all in stride.
A strange sort of understanding had formed between them.
Master Roshi watched his pretty girls.
Broly enjoyed his ritualistic feast.
They didn't interfere with each other, and each went about his own business!
Together, they made up the unique and harmonious everyday scenery of Master Roshi's Island.
Still, there was one thing that occasionally left Master Roshi feeling a little regretful deep down...
Broly was already a strapping seventeen-year-old. It seemed he'd never get to share that special baby food with him.
[The Broly in this book is the Dragon Ball Super version, so he's the same age as Vegeta and older than Son Goku.]
Over the years, Master Roshi had naturally tried to guide Broly onto the path of martial arts.
More than once, Master Roshi had used what he thought was an enticing tone to say to Broly, "Broly, you've got such a great physique. How about learning martial arts from me? It'll keep you healthy, and you'll become really strong! Maybe someday you'll even become Earth's guardian!"
Every time, however, Broly had shaken his head without a moment's thought, his tone calm but firm. "No. I'm not interested."
Broly's greatest interest, perhaps even his only one, seemed to be eating.
Once he was full, he'd find somewhere comfortable to sleep.
Once he woke up, he'd start thinking about what to eat next, and how to make the next meal feel even more ceremonial.
Master Roshi often felt utterly speechless about it as he watched Broly's increasingly muscular back.
Have I raised a pig with some weird obsessive-compulsive disorder?
What Master Roshi didn't know was...
This adopted son of his, who seemed to know nothing but eating, drinking, and sleeping and never trained, had long ago begun to quietly amass a Battle Power so terrifying that it was beyond anything Master Roshi could imagine, simply through growing day by day.
The Legendary Super Saiyan's power could never be measured by ordinary standards.
Not training was training in its own way.
Just as Broly was lost in the pleasure of his eighteenth plate of food...
"Splash!"
A burst of splashing came from the sea in the distance. A familiar figure then climbed onto the beach from the water, its voice trembling with overwhelming excitement!
"Broly! This is wonderful! I finally... finally made it back!"
The Sea Turtle, missing for more than a year, was now in tears, its voice choked with emotion. Even its shell seemed marked by the hardships it had endured.
"Huh? Sea Turtle?" Broly looked up from his food. Seeing his long-lost friend, he gave him a warm, guileless smile, held up the half-eaten roasted leg in his hand, and asked, "Have you eaten?"
"Not yet..." The Sea Turtle shook his head instinctively.
After such a long journey, he was indeed famished.
"Oh." Broly nodded, then very naturally and decisively pulled the roasted leg back and held it protectively against his chest, drawing a clear line. "This is all mine. You're not allowed to eat any."
The Sea Turtle: "..."
The Sea Turtle's excitement was instantly replaced by speechless exasperation.
Then why'd you ask if I'd eaten?!
Were you just making polite conversation?!
The Sea Turtle decided not to argue with this glutton. He immediately paddled his limbs and hurried into the house to find Master Roshi.
"Master Roshi! Master Roshi! I'm back!" the Sea Turtle called excitedly.
But Master Roshi was immersed in the graceful dancing of the girls on TV, his eyes glazed over and his drool barely contained. How could he spare any attention for a sea turtle who had just returned?
Master Roshi waved his hand casually, as if shooing away a fly. "Mm-hmm... I know, I know... We'll talk in a bit..."
The Sea Turtle had no choice but to lie down off to one side and wait patiently.
Only after the show ended and the words "Thank you for watching" appeared on the screen did Master Roshi smack his lips in satisfaction and take off his sunglasses, as if he had only just noticed the Sea Turtle.
"Huh? Sea Turtle? When did you get back? I thought some seafood restaurant had caught you and made soup out of you!" Master Roshi finally turned around, adjusted his glasses, and spoke in his usual tone.
"A child saved me!" The Sea Turtle hurried closer and began telling him about his experiences over the past year, his voice full of gratitude. "That child... well, he had a tail, just like Broly!"
"A child with a tail?" Master Roshi was slightly taken aback. That certainly piqued his interest.
Before you continue