Dragon Ball, Saiyans Don't Just Want to Get Stronger!

Inside a villa at the Crane School Dojo.

Master Shen was elegantly swirling a glass of red wine, maintaining his air of superiority before his disciples, Tien Shinhan and Chiaotzu.

Suddenly, his wrist flickered, and the expensive red wine splashed out, staining the priceless carpet.

His face turned as pale as paper in an instant, and the wine glass in his hand fell to the floor with a "clatter," shattering into pieces.

"Ma... Master?"

Tien Shinhan looked at the uncomposed Master Shen with suspicion and unease. He himself had felt that aura that made his very soul tremble, and his expression turned incredibly grave.

Master Shen's lips quivered as he swallowed hard, his eyes filled with unprecedented terror as he looked at Tien Shinhan:

"Ti... Tien Shinhan... this aura... it's too terrifying! Next... next time at the World Martial Arts Tournament... should we... should we just not participate?"

For the first time, his ambition wavered; the owner of that aura was definitely not someone human power could contend with!

Tien Shinhan clenched his fists tightly. The pressure brought by that aura made it difficult for him to breathe, but the pride of a Crane School martial artist and his obsession with the Turtle Hermit Style burned within him.

He suddenly raised his head, his eyes flashing with unyielding light: "Forgive me, Master! This disciple still wishes to participate! I want to prove with my strength that our Crane School is absolutely stronger than the Turtle Hermit Style! No matter who the opponent is!"

His tone was resolute, carrying a sense of burning his bridges.

Master Shen looked at the fire in his disciple's eyes. After hesitating for a long while, he finally sighed and nodded slowly: "Very well... since your mind is made up... then you must win the championship! At any cost!"

His final tone carried a hint of desperate ruthlessness.

"Yes, Master!" Tien Shinhan replied in a deep voice, his entire body radiating an aura as sharp as a blade.

Nearby, Chiaotzu looked up at Tien Shinhan's determined profile, his small eyes instantly filled with stars of adoration, and he kept whispering to himself: "Tien... so cool..."

In a forest near Korin Tower, Goku was engaged in a fierce battle with the assassin Mercenary Tao, who claimed to be the best in the world.

Mercenary Tao's attacks were vicious and tricky, while Goku managed to parry with his agile movements and increasingly refined martial arts.

Just as Goku seized an opening and prepared to counterattack, that violent aura struck his senses like a heavy hammer!

Goku's form froze abruptly!

"Good chance!"

How could the seasoned Mercenary Tao miss such a fleeting opportunity? A fierce glint flashed in his eyes as he shouted sharply, "Dodon Ray!"

The long-prepared killing move struck directly at Goku's vitals with a sharp whistling sound!

At the critical moment, Thousand Jun, Goku relied on instinct to use his Power Pole to block the strike!

"Boom!" With a muffled sound, Goku was knocked back several steps by the immense force, his arm going numb.

He quickly adjusted his stance, blinking his eyes as he looked at Mercenary Tao, who was grinning after his sneak attack succeeded, but his heart was filled with confusion:

"The feeling just now... was it Vitelli? Strange... why would I feel Vitelli?"

At this moment, Goku had not yet learned to sense the ki of others, but if nothing went wrong, his opportunity was about to arrive.

On the Lookout plaza, the golden light after the transformation began to slowly recede.

Having successfully transformed into a Super Saiyan, Vitelli hovered in mid-air, looking in disbelief at his hands wreathed in golden ki, feeling the terrifying power surging within him like an endless ocean—dozens of times stronger than his base state!

However, after the ecstasy, a strong and almost uncontrollable impulse for violence began to grow in the depths of his heart!

It was as if a bloodthirsty beast within him had been awakened, trying to make him crave destruction and battle!

The golden ki flickered uncontrollably, and the powerful aura, like a tangible wave, slammed against the Lookout's protective barrier, emitting a low hum.

"No..."

Vitelli suppressed the restlessness in his heart, his brow furrowed, "I can't perfectly control this power yet! The ki leakage is too severe!"

He knew well that if he returned to the ground in this state, the leaking aura alone would be enough to trigger a catastrophe.

He decisively descended to the Lookout's battered plaza and sat down cross-legged.

His golden hair remained spiked, but his emerald pupils flashed with a calm light.

He closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts, attempting to bring that violent power under control and calm the restlessness within.

Kami, supported by Mr. Popo, approached with difficulty.

Those deep eyes stared fixedly at Vitelli's current state—the golden flames, the emerald pupils, the cold and powerful pressure... his wrinkled old face was filled with unprecedented shock and suspicion, and he kept muttering to himself:

"This power... to think... to think it could be this strong! What... what kind of existence is he?"

Just as Vitelli was concentrating on trying to control his power, but felt that the sense of violence was as difficult to eradicate as a maggot on a bone, a calm voice sounded beside him:

"Your heart is too cluttered."

Vitelli suddenly opened his emerald eyes, looking in surprise at Mr. Popo, who had appeared before him at some point.

Mr. Popo remained in his usual state—completely pitch-black and expressionless, as if the earth-shattering transformation just now had no effect on him at all.

Ignoring Vitelli's surprise, Mr. Popo continued in his monotone voice:

"You should have already tried to perceive nature yourself, but that is far from enough. Your mind is not truly clear. There are too many distracting thoughts."

He paused, as if observing the flow of Vitelli's ki, "The 'ki' within you seems vast, but like a wild horse, it has not truly merged with you to the point of being as responsive as your own arm. After your power accumulation reached a bottleneck, you did not calm your heart to carefully polish yourself and stabilize your foundation; instead, you were impatient to pursue stronger, new forms of power. Your foundation is now like a building on sand—very unstable."

"Huh?"

Vitelli was momentarily struck speechless by Mr. Popo's incisive evaluation, a surge of astonishment rising within him.

This Mr. Popo, who possessed such a thin presence in the original Dragon Ball story and seemed like nothing more than background scenery... how could he have the insight to pierce through the hidden flaws in his power system at a single glance?

Is this... for real?

"Who... exactly are you?"

Vitelli couldn't help but ask again, probing, his emerald pupils filled with scrutiny.

"I am Mr. Popo," Mr. Popo replied simply and directly, his tone remaining as calm as ever. "I am the servant of Kami."

Vitelli felt a wave of speechlessness: Don't give me that! A servant of an Earthly Kami could have this kind of vision and realm?

However, he couldn't be bothered to delve into Mr. Popo's identity at this moment.

Mr. Popo's words were like a sudden enlightenment, waking him up instantly. He had indeed been overly obsessed with the numerical growth of his power, neglecting the cultivation of his state of mind and the mastery of his strength.

He hadn't spent his previous life reading so many cultivation novels for nothing. Without hesitation, he cast aside all distracting thoughts and, following the guidance implied in Mr. Popo's words, attempted to completely empty his mind.

He stopped obsessing over suppressing that violent power and instead tried to reach a strange resonance with it.

He imagined his mind as a calm lake, reflecting the sky and all things, letting that golden power brush over it like a breeze without stirring a ripple.

Gradually, a profound sensation welled up in his heart. He felt as if he had truly merged with this ten-thousand-meter-high altitude, merged with the flowing clouds around him, and merged with the blue planet beneath his feet...

He was no longer a vessel for violent power; he had become a part of nature itself.

In this strange state of Natural Unity, the violent golden aura surrounding him began to soften and turn inward, eventually fading away like a receding tide.

That dazzling golden hair also shed its gilded luster, returning to its deep, raven-black hue.

Vitelli's aura returned to complete tranquility, becoming even more restrained than it had been before his transformation.

He sat there, and three days passed without him noticing.

Oblivious to the passage of time, the sun and moon rose and set over the Lookout, the sea of clouds churned, and three days slipped away in silence.

At Brief Manor in West City, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the serenity of the Lookout, thick with suffocating anxiety.

Bulma paced back and forth in the living room. Her beautiful blue eyes were bloodshot, with dark, bruised shadows beneath them.

Three days! Three whole days! There had been no word from Vitelli!

"You jerk, Vitelli! You bad man! Where on earth did you go?! What... what happened to you?!"

She snatched up an empty cup from the table, intending to smash it, but remembering she and Vitelli had bought it together, she couldn't bring herself to do it and instead slammed it back down with a loud clatter.

She had already mobilized all the resources of Capsule Corp! Countless drones had been scattered like locusts, covering a vast area with a radius of thousands of kilometers centered on Korin Tower.

Major television and radio stations played missing person notices on a loop, the reward money reaching staggering amounts. Information about the search was flooding the internet.

Yet, the feedback was uniformly: "Target not found."

Bulma grabbed her phone again, her fingers trembling as she opened the latest drone patrol report. The glaring words "No matching target found" on the screen made her feel dizzy, and her eyes instantly welled up with red.

"Vitelli..."

Her voice was choked with tears as she collapsed weakly onto the sofa. "Where are you... don't scare me like this..."

Nearby, Mrs. Brief was holding an exquisite teapot, leisurely pouring tea at the perfect temperature into a cup.

Watching her daughter's distraught state, she sighed helplessly and offered comfort in a gentle tone:

"There, there, my little Bulma, don't worry so much. Little Vitelli is so strong; he even won that martial arts tournament so easily, what could possibly happen to him? He must have run into something special and couldn't get away for a moment. Maybe..."

She lifted her teacup, blew on it lightly, and added with the certainty of someone who had seen it all, "He'll just 'whoosh' and fly back any second now, won't he? You have to have faith in him."

Bulma looked up, her tear-filled eyes fixed on her mother, who remained forever elegant and calm. Her voice was thick with sobs: "How is that possible, Mom! He hasn't been back for three days! We've searched for so long and haven't found a single trace! How could he suddenly come ba—"

"I'm back, Bulma!"

Before Bulma could finish her tearful sentence, a voice, familiar beyond measure, rang out from above her head!

Immediately following, a figure descended from the sky like a teleportation, landing steadily on the living room carpet in front of Bulma with a "whoosh"!

It was Vitelli, who had been missing for three days!

Bulma was completely stunned. She stared wide-eyed, unable to believe the man standing before her—dusty but completely unharmed—as if everything around her were a dream.

The next second!

"Vitelli!!!"

A scream filled with grievance, worry, and wild joy shattered the silence of the living room.

Bulma sprang from the sofa like a rabbit, leaping forward with tremendous momentum and slamming hard into Vitelli's arms!

The massive impact made Vitelli sway slightly, but he immediately wrapped his strong arms tightly around the girl.

Bulma clung to him like an octopus, burying her face deep into his chest. Her shoulders heaved violently as the worry she had suppressed for three days finally erupted.

"You jerk! You bad man! Where the hell did you die off to for these three days?! I thought... I thought you didn't want me anymore... sob..."

She incoherently accused him while weakly pounding her fists against his back, her tears falling like broken beads, instantly soaking the front of Vitelli's shirt.

Feeling the trembling of the girl in his arms and her scalding tears, Vitelli's heart felt as if it were being fiercely twisted, aching intensely.

He tightened his arms, pulling Bulma closer, and rested his chin gently against the top of her head. His voice was thick with guilt and heartache as he whispered apologies over and over:

"I'm sorry... Bulma... I'm sorry... for making you worry. I went to Kami's Lookout to train, trying to master a new power... but I didn't expect to enter such a peculiar state. It felt like only a moment, but when I opened my eyes, three days had already passed... I am truly sorry... it was my negligence..."

His voice was low and tender, laced with caution as he gently soothed the girl before him.

He patted Bulma's back softly, letting her vent her emotions while held in his embrace.

Nearby, Mrs. Brief took an elegant sip of the tea she had just cooled, watching the touching and impactful reunion scene—which felt like something straight out of a soap opera—with a satisfied smile on her face.

It was as if she were watching a brilliant television program.

"Ara,"

She sighed softly, a gleam of delight flickering in her eyes, "This is truly more wonderful and exciting than any prime-time drama."

Goku Arrives, The Turning Point of Fate

A week had slipped by quietly since Vitelli returned from the lookout.

During this week, the atmosphere within Brief Manor had undergone a subtle change without anyone noticing.

As if trying to make up for the guilt of his three-day disappearance, Vitelli spent almost all his time by Bulma's side, save for his unwavering morning training in the Gravity Chamber.

Like any ordinary couple in the throes of love, they held hands while watching the latest sci-fi blockbusters at the cinema, exchanged carefully chosen gifts, and drove to picturesque mountain peaks to cuddle while watching the sunrise and sunset.

In the evenings, Bulma would even pull Vitelli onto the terrace she had meticulously decorated at the manor to enjoy a romantic, candlelit dinner.

It was sweet, and certainly very cozy, but after a week of doing nothing but dating—not to mention how Bulma would drag Vitelli off to stay busy for half the night after their dates...

"Whew..."

Waking up early for a new day, Vitelli carefully propped himself up from the warm, comfortable bed, terrified of disturbing Bulma, who was still fast asleep beside him.

The girl's blue hair was spread across the pillow, her sleeping face looking incredibly serene.

He tiptoed out of bed, put on his combat suit with near-silent movements, and then, like a thief, crept out of the bedroom door on his tiptoes.