Searching for the Dragon Ball (Revised)

On the only winding road of Mount Paozu, a sci-fi capsule motorcycle was speeding along at a velocity that defied the laws of physics. Its streamlined silver body wove through the forest, the engine emitting a low, powerful roar that startled flocks of birds into flight.

In the driver's seat, Bulma stared excitedly at the Dragon Radar screen, her short lavender hair fluttering in the wind.

"Great! There's a Dragon Ball right here on this mountain!"

She slammed on the throttle, and the motorcycle surged toward a bend like an arrow released from a bow. Yet, the very next second—

"Screee—!!!"

A piercing screech of brakes tore through the silence of the forest. The tires left two pitch-black skid marks on the road, and Bulma's body lunged forward from inertia, nearly slamming into the windshield.

"What the hell is that for?!"

She poked her head out, furious and ready to unleash a torrent of abuse, but her voice cut off abruptly.

Standing in the middle of the road was a kid who looked no older than twelve.

He wore a somewhat tattered blue martial arts uniform with a faded orange belt tied around his waist, and a furry monkey tail trailed behind him. He was tilting his head, looking at her with a pair of innocent, wide eyes—eyes as clear as a mountain stream, yet bottomless.

"Hey! Kid! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Bulma slapped the steering wheel. "Playing in a place like this is dangerous... eh?"

Her voice suddenly hitched.

Because that kid had pulled a sphere from his tunic—

An orange-red sphere with four golden stars on its surface, glowing brilliantly under the sunlight.

This was the Four-Star Dragon Ball that Son Goku had asked his grandfather, Son Gohan, for before he left.

And the Dragon Radar in Bulma's hand was now emitting an unprecedented, intense buzzing, the light point on the screen nearly jumping out of the frame!

"Big sister," the kid flashed a smile so bright it was almost excessive, his voice crisp as a bell, "you're looking for this, aren't you?"

Bulma felt her brain crash for a full three seconds.

She jumped off the bike, boots clicking as she ran to the kid, looking first at the radar, then at the Four-Star Ball, and finally staring fixedly at the boy before her.

She noticed that while his martial arts uniform was old, it was washed clean; she noticed the muscle definition on his exposed arms, which was far beyond his years.

"You, how do you have the Four-Star Ball?!" Bulma's voice went up an octave. "And how did you know I was looking for the Dragon Balls?! Who exactly are you?"

The boy—Son Goku—quickly ran through his lines in his head.

Can't act like a transmigrator.

The original Goku was simple, but not stupid; he just lacked common sense. But the current him needed to hide that mature soul from another world beneath a shell of "innocence."

"My name is Son Goku!" He imitated the tone of the original Goku, puffing out his small chest as his tail swayed happily behind him. "Grandpa said this is a Dragon Ball, and if you collect all seven, you can summon the Eternal Dragon to grant a wish! I don't have anything else, just this. You have a weird machine making noise on you, and the closer you get, the louder it sounds. I tested it a few times just now, so you must be looking for them, right?"

Bulma's eyes widened. No wonder the Dragon Radar had been showing the signal getting closer and further away—it was this kid messing with her.

"Who is your grandfather?" Bulma was deeply suspicious that someone living in the mountains would know about the Dragon Balls.

"Son Gohan!" Goku puffed out his chest proudly. "A very powerful martial artist! When Grandpa was young, he traveled all over the place and knew a lot of things. So... I know a lot of things too."

He held out his small hand, palm open, revealing the warm Four-Star Ball. Sunlight pierced through the sphere, casting four golden star-shaped shadows onto his palm.

"I can give the Four-Star Ball to you, and I can help you find the rest of the Dragon Balls."

Bulma was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when she saw Goku's expression suddenly turn serious.

"But—"

"But?" Bulma asked instinctively.

"After we find them, I want to make the first wish."

Goku looked up, his voice not loud, but his tone so firm it was impossible to argue with:

"I want a piece of training equipment that can make me stronger. The remaining wishes are all yours."

Bulma didn't know yet that the Earth's Eternal Dragon could currently only grant one wish.

Bulma opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to object. She was the one who initiated this adventure! She was the one who possessed future technology! She was the one who...

But when she met those eyes, the words died in her throat.

There was a certainty in them that made it impossible to refuse. It was as if he wasn't making a request, but rather... stating a fact that was bound to happen.

"...Are you really a child from the mountains?" Bulma asked skeptically. "How come you feel like a little monster?"

Goku smiled inwardly.

"Maybe." He tilted his head, trying his best to look more innocent. "So, is it a deal?"

Bulma stared at him for a full five seconds.

Then, she reached out and grabbed Goku's small hand.

"Deal!"

Two hands clasped in the air. One was a genius scientist from the future, the other a transmigrator from another world.

The gears of fate turned quietly at this very moment.

Over the next few days, Bulma would learn exactly what it meant to be a "monster."

According to her original plan, finding the remaining Dragon Balls would require crossing deserts, traversing mountain ranges, and dealing with all sorts of strange people, taking at least a few weeks. She had even mentally prepared herself for camping in the wild, encountering bandits, and being chased by wild beasts.

But this kid... it was as if he were cheating.

The first day.

"The next one is in that direction."

Goku held the Dragon Radar, his small hand pointing accurately toward the desert in the southwest. His tone was as casual as if he were saying "the weather is nice today," but Bulma noticed his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were recalling something.

"Yamcha... should be right there."

In the desert, the sun blazed.

When that green figure flashed out from behind a sand dune and struck his signature "Wolf Fang Fist" starting pose, Bulma almost screamed in fright. But Goku just tilted his head, and then—

"Big brother, there's a giant scorpion behind you."

"What?!" Yamcha turned his head instinctively.

"Bam!"

A precise hand chop landed on the back of his neck. The desert bandit Yamcha didn't even finish announcing his move name before he collapsed straight to the ground.

"Done." Goku clapped his hands and rummaged through Yamcha's hideout, pulling out the Three-Star Ball. "Next."

Bulma: "..."

The second day.

Deep in the forest, mist swirled.

A massive monster blocked their path, its blood-red maw spewing a foul stench that drained the color from Bulma's face.

"Help, help me—!"

"Don't be afraid, big sister." Goku stood in front of her, his small back inexplicably reassuring. He tilted his head to examine the "monster," then suddenly smiled: "Oolong, stop pretending. Your tail is showing."

The "monster's" movements froze.

The next second, the behemoth went "poof" and transformed into a small pig wearing a suit and bowtie, looking utterly embarrassed.

"H-how did you know it was me?!"

"Because your energy," Goku said earnestly, "is completely different from how you look. And..." he pointed to the ground, "monsters don't have footprints that small."

Oolong: "..."

Bulma: "..."

The third day.

The South Sea, Kame House.

When the old man wearing sunglasses and a floral shirt walked out of the house, Goku's eyes lit up.

"Master Roshi!"

Master Roshi took off his sunglasses and looked the kid up and down: "Oh? You know me?"

"I am Son Gohan's grandson!" Goku puffed out his chest, his voice carrying a trace of imperceptible excitement. "Grandpa said he had nothing left to teach me, so he told me to come find you to learn!"

He paused, then added: "But I have to find all the Dragon Balls to make a wish first, so the apprenticeship... will have to wait until after the wish."

Master Roshi was stunned for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter, his white beard trembling: "Hahahaha! That guy Son Gohan actually said he had nothing left to teach? This kid, he wasn't this humble when he was following me to learn his craft back in the day!"

He laughed until he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, his gaze settling on Goku and gradually deepening.

"However... you little brat, the energy on you is quite extraordinary."

Goku didn't speak, just stood there quietly.

Master Roshi watched him for a long time, finally sighed, and took a yellow sphere out of the house.

"This is a Dragon Ball, take it. Oh, and there's something else I'll give you too. Come out, Flying Nimbus!!!"

The Flying Nimbus flew in from the distance and landed in front of Goku.

"Only those with a pure heart can ride it. Try and see if you can get on."

Goku hopped onto the Flying Nimbus, his feet pressing into the soft, cloud-like fluff. A heavy stone in his heart dropped; he had worried that his transmigrated soul would affect little Goku's spirit, but in reality, it hadn't.

"Thank you, Master Mutten."

"Don't be in such a hurry to call me Master," Master Roshi said, putting his sunglasses back on, the corners of his mouth curling upward. "Wait until you've made your wish and passed my test; then it won't be too late."