The sports car sped along, the barren scenery outside gradually giving way to signs of habitation. The distant mountains had softened outlines, and here and there, farmhouses dotted the landscape.
Bulma drove in high spirits, humming an off-key tune and tapping the steering wheel absently with her slender fingers.
Lin Fan sat quietly in the passenger seat. The faint strand of True Qi within him circulated endlessly on its own, like a hidden stream, silently nourishing all it touched.
He seemed to be resting with his eyes closed, but in truth he was listening in every direction. He took in Bulma's occasional strange humming, the wind outside, and even the faint rumble of an engine far in the distance, silently acclimating himself to the many sounds of this world.
Bulma suddenly seemed to remember something. She turned her head and asked, blinking, "By the way, wild-man uncle... I mean, Lin Fan, since you came out of the mountains, you must be pretty strong, right? People who cultivate don't all know some martial arts?"
There was a hint of probing in her tone, along with some curiosity. Clearly, she still hadn't entirely let go of her interest in his "fortune-telling" and wanted to find confirmation elsewhere.
Lin Fan thought to himself, This girl is sharp. She won't be easy to fool.
He paused briefly, then replied in an unhurried voice, "A man of the mountains does practice a few basic breathing and guiding techniques to strengthen his body, but they're not meant for fighting. Compared with the true martial arts masters of the world, I'm no more than a firefly beside the moon."
He was telling half-truths, half-lies. He admitted to having some "skills," yet was extremely self-effacing, placing himself at the very bottom.
"Martial arts masters?"
Bulma pursed her lips, her attention successfully diverted. "You mean the people who enter the World Martial Arts Tournament? Hmph. They're all muscle-bound, simple-minded brutes who only know how to fight. It's so boring."
Though she said this, her eyes briefly lit up, as if she'd remembered something amusing.
"The World Martial Arts Tournament?"
Lin Fan caught those words, and his heart leaped. Yet his expression remained calm, showing only a touch of well-placed confusion. "What sort of grand event is that? I'm ignorant of the world and have never heard of it."
"Haha, I knew you wouldn't have heard of it!"
Bulma perked up at once, as if she'd found the perfect person to talk to. She even spoke a little faster. "It's a competition where the strongest martial artists in the world get together and fight! It's held only once every three years, and the prize money is pretty generous! The champion gets 500,000! Though I heard the prize might be even bigger this year."
As she spoke, she gestured to indicate the amount. Her tone carried the indifference of a rich young lady toward "mere" prize money, yet it was clear she knew all about the event.
The tournament! Prize money!
In an instant, Lin Fan's thoughts surged like waves, and countless ideas flashed through his mind.
How could he not have heard of the tournament? It was a crucial story arc in his memories of his previous life!
If he could take part, he could witness the true strength of this world's martial artists with his own eyes and measure the gap between himself, a "complete weakling," and the world. The generous prize money could also solve his pressing needs: buying clothes and supplies, and perhaps even securing some cultivation resources!
More importantly, Son Goku, Krillin, and even Master Roshi would surely be at the venue!
This was a godsend!
His emotions stirred, and his True Qi began circulating a little faster. Fortunately, he quickly suppressed it before it showed.
He pretended to ponder for a moment before speaking slowly, his tone carrying the natural longing and caution of a man from the mountains toward the outside world. "The World Martial Arts Tournament brings together the finest fighters in the world... A chance to hear their insights and observe their techniques... It truly sounds like a rare event. But... where is the tournament held? Can ordinary people go and watch?"
"On Papaya Island in the south! It takes several days to get there by boat."
Bulma answered casually, then suddenly rolled her eyes, a sly glint appearing in them as she grinned at Lin Fan.
"What? You're interested too? Want to see how those 'moons' shine?"
Her tone was teasing. She still clearly thought Lin Fan would get beaten up if he tried to enter with his "basic skills."
Lin Fan met her gaze openly, his expression calm and even slightly embarrassed. "To be honest, miss, I've ended up stranded in this place with nothing to my name. I know next to nothing about the world. Hearing about such a grand event, I'd indeed like to go and see it for myself—and perhaps... perhaps find some way to make a living."
Nine-tenths of what he said was true and one-tenth was false. He cleverly framed his reasons for going to the tournament as wanting to see the world and find work, making his story perfectly plausible.
Bulma looked him up and down, her gaze passing over his still-bare body and the wounds that hadn't healed. She nodded. "Fair enough. Looking like that, you really can't get anywhere without money."
She rested her chin in her hand and thought for a moment, then suddenly clapped her hands. "Perfect! I've got some business to take care of in that direction anyway. I can give you a lift since it's on the way!"
Lin Fan was overjoyed, but merely bowed slightly. "Then thank you for your kindness. I, Lin Fan, will remember this favor."
"Oh, stop calling me 'miss.' Just call me Bulma."
Bulma waved her hand, easygoing as ever. "But we've got a deal. You have to keep helping me figure out where the Dragon Balls are! If you get it right and I'm in a good mood, I might even sponsor your entry fee!"
She hadn't forgotten her disappointment that the Dragon Radar hadn't been able to do the job, and had set her sights on Lin Fan's "fortune-telling."
"Of course I'll help. Don't worry."
Lin Fan smiled and agreed, already calculating rapidly in his mind.
Traveling with Bulma would take him straight to the tournament and bring him closer to Son Goku and Master Roshi. It was a shortcut to the heart of this world's story, a thousand times better than trying to find his way alone.
The sports car continued onward, and the outline of a town was now just visible in the distance.
Bulma excitedly began planning their route. "First, we'll stop in the little town up ahead and get you some clothes. Then we'll buy some food and head southeast. I remember there's a dock along that coast where we can rent a boat..."
Lin Fan listened quietly, gazing through the window at the wilderness rushing past. Clouds drifted across the horizon, shifting and changing.
The World Martial Arts Tournament... the Turtle School... Son Goku...
One name after another passed through his mind, stirring a feeling he could hardly describe.
The grand adventures he'd once read about on a page might now become battles he experienced firsthand.
His cultivation was still shallow, and he was nothing but a "complete weakling." But now that he had the Great Dao Source Scripture, the road ahead might be perilous, but it wasn't a dead end.
He quietly clenched his palm. The faint strand of True Qi seemed to sense it and trembled gently through his meridians, like a hidden dragon waiting in the depths, ready to strike.
The speeding sports car carried two people, each with their own goals, toward the nearest town—and toward a destiny that was about to become turbulent and spectacular.
Lin Fan's path of cultivation would face its first true trial on the martial arts stage, where the finest fighters in the world would gather.
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