Combat Power Soars (Seeking Recommendations)

Mr. Popo raised his hand, his pitch-black palm aimed directly at Son Goku.

In that instant, Son Goku felt an invisible pressure descend from above, as if the entire Heavenly Realm were crushing down upon his shoulders!

"This is..." He gritted his teeth, his legs bending slightly.

"Aura," Mr. Popo's voice was as flat as ever. "Not a ki blast, not a ki wave, just... aura. Use your heart to feel it, break through it, or..."

"Be crushed by it."

Son Goku let out a roar, white ki flames surging around his body. Under the weight of gravity now increased to fifteen times, his bones popped and his muscle fibers contracted frantically under the immense pressure.

He took a step forward.

The ground cracked.

Another step.

The stone slabs shattered.

Mr. Popo's aura was like an invisible wall; every step required several times the effort. Fine beads of sweat seeped from Son Goku's forehead, and his teeth clicked together, but his eyes... were growing brighter.

"Is this... Mr. Popo's true strength?"

"Just an aura... makes me feel like I'm fighting the entire world?"

"Not enough," Mr. Popo's voice echoed from all directions. "Your heart is still restless."

Son Goku froze.

He looked down at his own hands. The white ki flames roiled around him, violent and scorching, like a trapped beast struggling in a cage.

"Restless..."

He remembered the first lesson Mr. Popo had taught him—"a heart like still water."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Calm..."

"Like flowing water..."

The white ki flames gradually subsided, transforming into a faint white halo that coated his skin. He took another step; this time, his stride was light and steady, as if he were walking on cotton, yet grounded firmly on the earth.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

He reached Mr. Popo and looked up, his black eyes as calm as a still pool:

"Mr. Popo, I did it."

Mr. Popo looked down at him, and for the first time, a clear ripple of emotion appeared in his white eyes.

Was that... surprise?

"You," he said slowly, "are faster than I imagined."

He withdrew his aura and turned to leave:

"Tomorrow, 16 times gravity."

Son Goku was stunned for a moment, then he smiled.

"16 times..."

"Bring it on!"

A year and a half later.

Heavenly Realm, Temple Plaza.

As the first light of dawn broke, golden sunlight spilled onto the white jade, refracting into a dreamlike halo.

On the plaza, a figure was practicing his martial arts.

His movements were not fast; every punch and kick felt like a slow-motion replay, yet they carried an indescribable sense of rhythm. His ki flowed with his movements like a white ribbon, winding and circling around his body before finally returning to his dantian.

"Hoo..."

He retracted his fists and exhaled a breath of stale air. The breath did not disperse, instead forming a white dragon in the air that circled three times before slowly fading away.

Son Goku.

Fifteen years old.

He was a head taller than he had been two years ago, his shoulders were broader, and his muscle definition was more pronounced, yet his face still held that familiar air of childishness and innocence. His tail swayed gently in the morning light, the brown fur glowing with health.

He looked down at his hands, feeling the surging yet docile power within him.

"Twenty-five times gravity... I've completely adapted to it."

"Combat power... probably over ten thousand? My combat power has increased nearly tenfold!"

He calculated based on the data from the original story: after Goku adapted to one hundred times gravity on the spaceship to Namek, his combat power reached ninety thousand. By that ratio, adapting to twenty-five times gravity should place his combat power somewhere between fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.

But this was only an estimate; without a scouter, Son Goku had no way of knowing the exact numerical value.

However, a power level is just a number. True combat strength must be tested in actual battle.

The massive surge in power under Mr. Popo's guidance was something Son Goku had not anticipated. Not only had his combat power increased tremendously, but his practical combat experience could also be described as exceptionally rich.

With the Saiyan physique, it's not impossible to fight an enemy with a power level of 20,000, right?

Son Goku thought happily. These past two years had seen the greatest increase in his combat power yet. He had secretly decided that all future Dragon Ball Z fighters must undergo training at the Lookout; it was crucial for their future growth.

"Goku."

Mr. Popo's voice came from behind him. Two years had passed, and his voice remained as flat as ever, but Son Goku could now discern subtle emotional shifts within it.

For instance, right now, there was a hint of... satisfaction in Mr. Popo's voice?

Son Goku was always able to complete Mr. Popo's training tasks ahead of schedule and would always silently continue training afterward; the intensity of his self-discipline had even left Mr. Popo slightly shocked.

"Kami wants to see you."

Son Goku nodded, straightened his martial arts gi, and walked toward the main hall of the Lookout.

Inside the main hall, Kami stood before the window with his back to the door, his white robes shimmering with a soft luster in the morning light.

"Goku," he said without turning around, "your training ends here."

Son Goku was stunned: "Kami?"

"Mr. Popo told me," Kami turned slowly, his gaze profound, "that you have mastered everything he could teach you at your current level. A heart like still water, the precise control of ki, the development of the body's limits... You have done very well, even... exceeding his and my expectations."

He paused, a faint smile appearing at the corners of his mouth:

"The 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament begins in one month. Go."

Son Goku's eyes lit up.

The 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament...

In the original story, Goku lost to Tien Shinhan in this tournament. But this time...

He clenched his fists, and a white aura rose slightly around his body before instantly receding, transforming into a faint, glowing halo.

"Yes! Kami!"

He bowed deeply, turned, and walked out of the hall.

Then, he leaped, his figure like a shooting star, piercing the sky as he flew toward the world below.

Behind him, Mr. Popo stood before the temple gate, his white eyes watching the figure gradually disappear, his bells ringing softly in the wind.

"He," Mr. Popo said, using more words than usual, "will become even stronger."

Kami smiled: "Indeed! This child will be extraordinary in the future!"

Mount Paozu.

The familiar wooden house, the familiar cooking smoke, the familiar... scent.

"Grandpa! I'm home!"

Son Goku pushed open the door. Son Gohan was sitting at the table, his white beard trembling as he held a bowl of steaming noodles.

"Goku!" Son Gohan stood up in surprise, his cloudy eyes instantly brightening. "You child, you've been gone for nearly three years; Grandpa missed you to death!"

Son Goku rushed over and hugged his grandfather. Son Gohan's body was more hunched than before, and his white beard was longer, but that warm aura... it hadn't changed at all.

"Grandpa, I've become stronger!" He let go and said excitedly, "I can handle twenty-five times gravity now! Kami and Mr. Popo said I'm ready for the tournament!"

"Twenty-five times?!" Son Gohan's eyes widened, then he burst into laughter, his white beard twitching. "Good! Good! My grandson is truly amazing!"

He pulled Goku down to sit and ladled out another bowl of noodles. "Come, eat more! You must not have eaten well while training these past few years!"

Son Goku looked at the steaming noodles piled on the table, his eyes growing slightly warm.

There's really... no place like home.

He devoured the food, telling his grandfather about his training experiences over the past two years as he ate. Son Gohan listened with great interest, occasionally letting out exclamations of wonder.

"Was Mr. Popo really that strict?"

"Yeah! Even stricter than Master Roshi!"

"And your ki, how is your control now?"

"Like this!"

Son Goku extended a finger and tapped lightly. A beam of white ki shot from his fingertip, precisely passing through a small hole in the paper window and carving a perfect "Martial" character into the tree trunk outside, without even disturbing a single leaf.

Son Gohan was stunned.

He stared at the needle-sized hole and the exquisite calligraphy on the tree trunk outside, only murmuring after a long while:

"...Monster."

Son Goku scratched his head and chuckled: "Grandpa says that too?"

Son Gohan snapped out of it and laughed heartily, his white beard trembling incessantly: "Good! Good! In this tournament, my grandson will surely take the championship!"

"Yeah!" Son Goku clenched his fists, full of confidence. "I will definitely win!"

Outside the window, the sun set, casting long shadows of the grandfather and grandson.