On the only mountain road on Mount Paozu, a futuristic-looking capsule motorcycle raced along at a speed that defied the laws of physics. Its sleek silver body wove through the trees as its engine roared with a deep, powerful rumble, startling flocks of birds into flight.
Bulma sat in the driver's seat, staring excitedly at the radar screen, her short lavender hair fluttering in the wind.
"Great! There's a Dragon Ball somewhere in these mountains!"
She twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle shot toward the bend like an arrow loosed from a bow. But the very next second—
"Skreeee!!!"
The ear-piercing screech of the brakes shattered the mountain's silence. The tires left two black streaks on the road, and Bulma lurched forward from the momentum, nearly hitting the windshield.
"What the heck?!"
Furious, she stuck her head out, ready to give someone a piece of her mind, but the words died on her lips.
Standing in the middle of the road was a kid who looked no older than twelve.
He wore a somewhat battered blue martial arts uniform, with a faded orange sash around his waist. A furry monkey tail trailed behind him. He tilted his head and looked at her with a pair of innocent, wide eyes. They were as clear as a mountain stream, yet seemed unfathomably deep.
"Hey, kid! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Bulma smacked the steering wheel. "It's dangerous to play around here... Huh?"
Her voice caught in her throat.
The kid had pulled a ball from his clothes—
An orange-red ball with four golden stars on its surface, gleaming in the sunlight.
It was the Four-Star Dragon Ball Son Goku had asked his grandfather, Son Gohan, for before setting out.
The radar in Bulma's hand was now beeping more frantically than ever, the dot on the screen practically jumping out of its frame!
"Hey, miss," the kid said, flashing a dazzling smile as bright as a bell's chime. "You came looking for this, right?"
Bulma's brain shut down for a full three seconds.
She jumped off her bike and ran over, her boots pounding the ground. First she looked at the radar, then at the Four-Star Ball, and finally fixed her gaze on the boy before her.
She noticed that although his martial arts uniform was old, it was clean. She also noticed the muscles on his bare arms, far more defined than you'd expect for someone his age.
"How—how do you have the Four-Star Ball?!" Bulma's voice went up an octave. "And how did you know I was looking for Dragon Balls?! Who are you?"
The boy—Son Goku—quickly ran through his lines in his head.
I can't act like someone from another world.
The Goku from the original story was innocent, but not stupid; he simply lacked common sense. Now, he had to hide the mature soul from another world beneath that innocent exterior.
"My name's Son Goku!" he said, mimicking the original Goku's tone as he puffed out his little chest, his tail swaying happily behind him. "Grandpa said this is a Dragon Ball, and if you collect all seven, you can summon Shenron and have a wish granted! I don't have anything else, just this. You have a weird machine that makes a noise, and it gets louder the closer you are. I even tested it a few times just now, so you must be looking for them, right?"
Bulma's eyes widened. No wonder the Dragon Radar kept showing the ball getting closer and farther away. This kid had been messing with her!
"Who's your grandfather?" Bulma wondered how someone from the mountains knew about the Dragon Balls.
"Son Gohan!" Goku proudly puffed out his chest. "He's a really amazing martial artist! Grandpa traveled all over the place when he was young and knows all kinds of things. So... I know all kinds of things, too."
He held out his little hand, revealing the smooth, warm Four-Star Ball. Sunlight passed through it, casting four golden points of light into his palm.
"I can give you the Four-Star Ball, and I can help you find the rest of the Dragon Balls, too."
Bulma was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Goku's expression suddenly turned serious.
"But—"
"But what?" Bulma asked instinctively.
"Once we find them, I get to make the first wish."
Goku lifted his head. His voice was quiet, but his tone was so certain it left no room for argument.
"I want some training gear that'll make me stronger. You can have the rest of the wishes."
Bulma didn't know that Earth's Shenron could only grant one wish at the moment.
Bulma opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to protest. She was the one who'd started this adventure! She was the one with the advanced technology! She was the one who—
But when she met his eyes, the words died on her tongue.
There was a certainty in them that made it impossible to refuse. As if he wasn't making a request, but stating... an inevitable fact.
"...Are you really a kid from the mountains?" Bulma asked suspiciously. "Why do you seem like some kind of little monster?"
Goku laughed to himself.
"Maybe." He tilted his head, trying to look even more innocent. "So, do we have a deal?"
Bulma stared at him for a full five seconds.
Then she held out her hand and clasped Goku's little one.
"Deal!"
Their hands met in the air. One was a genius scientist from the future; the other, a transmigrator from another world.
The gears of fate had quietly begun to turn.
Over the next few days, Bulma learned what it meant to be a "monster."
According to her original plan, finding the remaining Dragon Balls would mean crossing deserts, climbing mountains, and dealing with all sorts of strange people. It should have taken weeks at the very least. She'd even braced herself for camping in the wilderness, running into bandits, and being chased by wild beasts.
But this kid... was like he had cheat codes.
Day one.
"The next one is that way."
Goku held the radar and pointed toward the southwest, toward the desert. His tone was as casual as if he were saying, "Nice weather today," but Bulma noticed his eyes narrow slightly, as if he were recalling something.
Yamcha... should be over there.
The desert blazed beneath the scorching sun.
When a green figure sprang out from behind a dune and struck the signature opening stance of the Wolf Fang Fist, Bulma nearly screamed in fright. But Goku merely tilted his head, then—
"Big brother, there's a giant scorpion behind you."
"What?!" Yamcha instinctively turned around.
"Thwack!"
A precise chop landed on the back of his neck. The desert bandit Yamcha toppled straight to the ground before he could even finish announcing his technique.
"All done." Goku dusted off his hands and dug the Three-Star Ball out of Yamcha's hideout. "Next."
Bulma: "..."
Day two.
Deep in the forest, mist swirled through the trees.
A huge monster blocked their path, its gaping maw exhaling a foul stench. Bulma went pale with terror.
"H-help! Somebody save me!"
"Don't be scared, miss." Goku stepped in front of her. Though his little back was small, it somehow put her at ease. He tilted his head, studying the "monster," then suddenly grinned. "Oolong, quit pretending. I can see your tail."
The "monster" froze.
The next second, the hulking beast went poof and turned into a little pig wearing a suit and bow tie. He looked thoroughly embarrassed.
"How—how did you know it was me?!"
"Because your ki doesn't match how you look," Goku said seriously. "And..." He pointed at the ground. "A monster wouldn't leave such small footprints."
Oolong: "..."
Bulma: "..."
Day three.
Kame House, in the South Sea.
When the old man in sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt walked out of the house, Goku's eyes lit up.
"Master Roshi!"
Master Roshi took off his sunglasses and looked the little kid up and down. "Oh? You know me?"
"I'm Son Gohan's grandson!" Goku puffed out his chest, his voice carrying a hint of excitement. "Grandpa said there was nothing more he could teach me, so he sent me to learn from you!"
He paused, then added, "But first I need to collect the Dragon Balls and make my wish, so... I'll have to wait until after that to become your student."
Master Roshi was taken aback, then burst out laughing, his white beard quivering. "Hahahaha! That fellow Son Gohan said there was nothing more he could teach you? Back when he was learning from me, that kid wasn't nearly so modest!"
Once he'd laughed his fill, he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. His gaze settled on Goku and gradually grew more intent.
"But... there's something unusual about your ki, kid."
Goku didn't say anything. He simply stood there quietly.
Master Roshi watched him for a long time, then finally sighed and went inside to fetch a yellow ball.
"Here's a Dragon Ball. You can have it. Oh, and I'll give you something else, too. Come on out, Flying Nimbus!!!"
Flying Nimbus came flying from the distance and landed in front of Goku.
"Only someone pure of heart can ride it. Give it a try and see if you can get on."
Goku jumped onto Flying Nimbus and pressed his feet into the soft, fluffy cloud. A heavy weight lifted from his heart. He'd thought his transmigrated soul might affect Kid Goku's heart, but apparently it hadn't.
"Thank you, Master Mutten."
"Don't call me master just yet." Master Roshi put his sunglasses back on, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "Wait until you've made your wish and passed my test. Then you can call me that."
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