Power and Mission

50,000 exchange points—just enough to afford this.

He lowered his head to glance at the number on the panel, a ripple of excitement stirring in his heart.

Tenfold Kaioken, combined with his current Super Saiyan God foundation... just what level would his combat power reach?

He couldn't help but close his eyes, a scene manifesting in his mind: golden flames entwined with dark red starlight, the air crackling and snapping, the very earth trembling in response.

Every breath he drew would surge with power, every glance would carry the weight of crushing pressure.

The mere imagination made his heart tighten.

Jiang Che took a deep breath, suppressing his anticipation, and decisively tapped his fingertip against the void, pressing the exchange button.

"Exchange Tenfold Kaioken."

The system's prompt rang out, cold and clinical, echoing in his mind—

[Exchange successful. 50,000 exchange points consumed, 0 remaining.]

[Skill: Tenfold Kaioken (Side-effect-free version) unlocked.]

Before the words had even faded, a warm, surging heat erupted from his chest, rushing through his meridians like magma into every limb and bone.

Jiang Che's body shuddered slightly; his muscles tightened and relaxed in an instant, and his bones emitted a faint cracking sound, as if every one of them were being rearranged.

It wasn't just an increase in power; it was a fundamental shift in how that power was utilized.

He could feel his innate, solid combat instincts being gradually overlaid by the mark of the Kaioken.

It was like a peerless, lethal blade that had never been unsheathed, finally revealing its edge.

"A pity the exchange points are back to zero." Jiang Che shook his head, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "But Tenfold Kaioken—it's worth it."

He closed his eyes, adjusted his breathing, and sank his mental energy into his body, slowly savoring the subtle changes.

Within his meridians, the once-steady ki now seemed to possess a will of its own, becoming both agile and violent.

He could feel every muscle fiber twitching, waiting—waiting for his command to activate.

He slowly raised his right hand and clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white.

He knew that if he wished, he could flood his entire body with that tenfold power at any moment, pushing the Kaioken to its limit.

The air seemed to solidify; even the pale mist within the Hyperbolic Time Chamber came to a halt around him, as if time itself feared the power he was about to unleash.

Outside, sunlight filtered through the grey-white walls, casting blurred patches of light.

Jiang Che sat cross-legged in the center, currents of air slowly swirling around him.

He began to guide the ki within him, inch by inch, adapting to the flow of the Kaioken.

With every exhale, a wisp of faint golden flame seeped from his skin before quickly dissipating.

This was adaptation, taming, and mastery.

He was learning to become the master of this power.

Meanwhile, on the stone steps outside Kami's Lookout, Son Goku sat crouched on a blue stone, a blade of grass between his teeth, his expression relaxed.

Suddenly, his demeanor shifted.

A voice exploded in his mind—a telepathic message from Dende:

"Mr. Goku! It's terrible!"

Son Goku sprang to his feet, the blade of grass slipping from his mouth, his eyes wide.

"What? The Black Star Dragon Balls are gone, and Earth is going to be destroyed?!"

His voice startled the small birds foraging outside the lookout, sending them fluttering away.

A gust of wind whipped around him, causing his orange-red martial arts uniform to snap loudly and his belt to flutter.

Dende stood in the center of Kami's Lookout, his expression tense, small fists clenched against his chest, sweat beading on his forehead.

He nodded, his voice urgent: "Mr. Jiang Che told me. He said Earth will be destroyed in a month, and we must recover the Black Star Dragon Balls immediately."

"Where did the Dragon Balls go?" Gohan stepped forward hurriedly, his brows furrowed, his fists clenched.

Son Goku slapped his knee, fire in his eyes, though a long-absent fighting spirit curled the corners of his mouth: "We have to find them no matter where they are! Gohan, get ready to move!"

A heavy silence permeated the air.

The clouds beneath the lookout churned, as if heralding an approaching storm.

"I don't know." Dende shook his head, his white bangs swaying, his eyes filled with confusion and helplessness.

He let his hands drop to his sides, his fingertips curling slightly as if trying to recall something, but he ultimately sighed. "However, Mr. Jiang Che specifically instructed me to pass this on to you. He said this matter is of great importance."

Son Goku frowned, arms crossed over his chest, his fingers tapping against his arms.

After a moment of silence, he looked up, his gaze flickering in the sunset, and said in a deep voice: "I understand. Gohan, Goten, let's go. We're investigating the whereabouts of the Dragon Balls."

"Yes, Dad!" Gohan straightened his back, his eyes reflecting the resolve of a young man, his right hand balled into a fist against his chest.

Beside him, young Goten mimicked his brother, waving his small fists and muttering, "I want to go too!"

Vegeta leaned against a stone pillar not far away, arms tightly crossed, his mouth set in a thin, straight line.

He did not interrupt, nor did he glance at them, but his gaze remained fixed on Kami's Lookout—that structure resting atop the clouds, bathed in the golden-red halo of the setting sun.

A faint flame burned in his eyes, like a silent volcano churning with a singular obsession within his chest: to clash with Jiang Che once more and shatter the calm with everything he had.

Jiang Che pushed open the heavy door of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, and a gust of dry, hot wind rushed to meet him.

He stepped onto the stone stairs, his boots clicking crisply, the sweat on his temples not yet dry.

Looking up, he saw Son Goku, Gohan, and Goten standing in the middle of the courtyard, their battle suits fluttering in the wind, backpacks packed with supplies for their departure.

"Jiang Che, we're going to find the Dragon Balls," Son Goku said, stepping forward with a deep look in his eyes. "Are you coming?"

Jiang Che shook his head, his arms resting at his sides, his knuckles gently rubbing against the hem of his clothes.

"I have my own business to attend to." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the three of them, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. "You can handle it."

Son Goku grinned, his white teeth flashing. "Alright then. Don't forget about our fight when I get back."

"I won't," Jiang Che nodded, his voice low and heavy, like an iron nail driven into wood.

Son Goku turned and left with Gohan and Goten, their figures swallowed by the shadows of the tall trees.

Their footsteps crunched on the gravel, growing fainter and fainter until they vanished completely around the corner.

Jiang Che withdrew his gaze and turned back to his room.

The room was dim, with only a sliver of pale gold light filtering in.

He did not turn on the lights or rest; instead, he walked straight to the center of the room and sat cross-legged on the floor, his back straight, hands resting lightly on his knees as his breathing gradually steadied.

Everything around him fell silent, even the wind ceased.

"Tenfold Kaioken..." he whispered to himself, his voice echoing in the empty room, heavy and weighted. "I must find a chance to test its power."

Outside the window, a streak of light cut across the sky like a shooting star, rapidly receding and trailing a golden tail—the direction in which Son Goku and the others had departed.

The lingering warmth of their presence seemed to remain in the air, and the leaves in the courtyard rustled, as if whispering a soft farewell.