Dragon Ball and Cultivation

Spring, AGE 739, Mount Paozu. The morning mist had yet to dissipate, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows across the streets of New Vegeta City. After two years of construction, this Saiyan settlement had evolved from a cluster of crude wooden huts into a fully functional small town. Wide streets were lined with neat stone and timber houses; the town center featured a council hall, the east side held a large training ground, the west side contained farmland and orchards, and the north housed the research district and a starship docking port. Over one hundred and thirty Saiyans lived and worked here in peace. The men were responsible for training, patrols, and resource gathering; the women, in addition to managing domestic affairs, conducted research and technical work under Selipa's leadership; the children spent their mornings learning basic academics and their afternoons in combat training. Kashu stood in the center of the training ground, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, eyes half-closed as he practiced the "Meditation Technique." He was eight years old, nearly one meter forty in height, with long black hair tied loosely behind his head with a cloth strip. His features were delicate, yet his gaze was as steady as an adult's. Two years ago, he had fled to Earth with one hundred and twenty Saiyans, using the Dragon Balls to wish for the Super Hyperbolic Time Chamber and the ability to traverse parallel worlds. Over these two years, he had guided his people in their cultivation by day and entered the Hyperbolic Time Chamber for deep training by night. Although only two years had passed in the outside world, he had spent over a decade within the chamber. His base combat power had broken through the fifty-thousand mark, and his Legendary Super Saiyan First Grade transformation reached four million. While this figure was no longer weak in the grand scheme of the universe, Kashu knew it was still far from Frieza's one hundred and twenty million. "Brother!"

A crisp voice rang out from behind him. Kashu opened his eyes to see Son Goku (Kakarot) running toward him barefoot. Six-year-old Son Goku had a round face, large eyes, and a mop of messy black hair, always wearing a silly grin. His combat power had already reached three thousand five hundred, second only to Kashu among the Saiyan children of his age.

"Kakarot, have you finished today's training tasks?" Kashu asked. "Finished! A one-hundred-kilometer weighted run, one thousand push-ups, one thousand sit-ups, and one hundred Ki Blasts!" Son Goku counted on his fingers, then added, "Brother, can we skip cultural studies today? I want to go fishing!" "No. Cultural studies are just as important." Kashu ruffled his younger brother's hair. "Besides, I have an important decision to tell you today." "What decision?" "Starting tomorrow, we are going to Kame House to take on a master." "Kame House? Where is that?" "Master Roshi's home. He is one of the strongest martial arts masters on Earth, and I am going to take you and a few other children to learn Earth's martial arts."

Son Goku tilted his head in thought. "But Brother, aren't you the strongest?" "Strength isn't the point; the point is to learn different combat styles." Kashu explained, "Master Roshi has many unique insights into the understanding and application of Ki that are worth our study. Also—Krillin will be going too." "Krillin? That bald kid?" Son Goku's eyes lit up. "He's going too?" "He has already arrived. Master Roshi has agreed to take us as his students." "Great!" Son Goku jumped up. "Then let's go quickly!" "Tomorrow. Finish your cultural studies today first." Son Goku's face fell, but he nodded obediently.

Kashu brought Son Goku back to the council hall, where several people had already gathered. Gore sat at a long table, discussing resource allocation with Bardock. He was twenty-two, with short black hair, a resolute face, and wore a deep blue combat suit. After two years of training and adaptation, his combat power had risen from twelve thousand to thirty-five thousand, making him a pillar of the camp. Lanno leaned against the window, chatting merrily with several young female Saiyans. He was twenty-five, with natural brown curly hair and a faint scar on his face that did not detract from his charm. His combat power had increased from eleven thousand to twenty-eight thousand, but his true value lay in his maintenance skills—all the equipment and starships in the camp relied on him. Luo Ling stood at the entrance of the training ground, arms crossed, watching the distant mountains with cold eyes. She was twenty-three, with short deep-red hair and a tall frame, radiating an aura that kept others at a distance. She was one of the few female high-class warriors among the Saiyans; her combat power had risen from eighteen thousand to one hundred thousand, and three months ago, she had successfully broken through to the Super Saiyan state—a golden aura with five million combat power, making her the second strongest in the camp after Kashu. "Kashu, are you sure you want to apprentice under that old Earthling?" Luo Ling asked without turning her head. "I am." Kashu replied. "Master Roshi may not have high combat power, but his understanding of Ki far exceeds ours. Luo Ling, do you want to come along?" "No." Luo Ling said coldly. "I have no interest in bowing to the weak." "Learning is not bowing. If you change your mind, you can come anytime." Luo Ling snorted and didn't respond. Gore looked up. "Kashu, how many people are you taking?" "Kakarot, Gelin, and a few other children who are willing to go." Kashu said. "I leave the camp affairs to you and Father." "Rest assured." Gore nodded. "Uncle Gore, please take good care of Mom!" Son Goku ran over and grabbed Gore's hand. "I will, Goku." Gore offered a rare smile. "Learn well from your brother. When you come back stronger, Uncle will spar with you." "Deal! It's a promise!"

Kame House was situated on a lonely island in the East Sea. It was a two-story villa surrounded by coconut trees and white sandy beaches, with ocean waves lapping against the reefs—a pleasant sight indeed. When Kashu arrived at Kame House with Son Goku and several other Saiyan children (three descendants of warriors who were willing to join), Master Roshi was lying on a beach chair sunbathing, a glass of iced fruit juice and a magazine beside him. The old man wore round sunglasses, his bald head reflecting the dazzling sunlight.

"Yo, you're here!" Master Roshi sat up, adjusted his sunglasses, and sized up the group of children. His gaze lingered longest on Kashu—this eight-year-old Saiyan child possessed an aura he had never seen before. Powerful yet restrained; profound, yet not oppressive. "Master Roshi." Kashu bowed slightly. "I have brought my brothers to seek your tutelage." "Easy, easy." Master Roshi stood up, stretching his old limbs. "But before I take you on, I want to see how much sincerity you have." "What kind of sincerity?" Master Roshi pointed toward the distant sea. "See that small island? It's about five kilometers away. Swim there and back, no flying allowed. Oh, and you have to carry these." He pointed to several giant turtle shells on the ground nearby. Each shell was as large as a person, covered in a thick, heavy carapace. "What's so hard about—" Son Goku was the first to strap on a shell; his footsteps sank, and his knees nearly buckled. "Whoa, so heavy!" "Two hundred kilograms." Master Roshi said with a smile. "Brother, what about you?" Son Goku looked at Kashu. Kashu strapped on the heaviest shell—five hundred kilograms—without changing his expression. "Alright, go. Be back before lunch, or there's no food." The children ran toward the shore, splashing into the sea, and began swimming toward the island. Master Roshi lay back on his beach chair and picked up his magazine, but his eyes drifted toward the sea from time to time. He had lived for over three hundred years and taught countless disciples, but he had never seen children like these. The one called Kashu possessed such powerful Ki that he hardly seemed human—no, they weren't human at all; they were Saiyans. "Interesting, truly interesting." Master Roshi muttered to himself. "Perhaps this time, I can teach a disciple who surpasses Master Mutaito."

A week later, an uninvited guest arrived at Kame House. A small boat carried a bald young boy in an orange martial arts uniform, with a round face and large eyes, looking about the same age as Son Goku. He jumped off the boat, looked around, and shouted, "Excuse me, is this Kame House? I've come to ask Master Roshi to take me as his student!" Master Roshi walked out of the house slowly, looking the bald boy up and down. "Whose child are you?" "My name is Krillin!" The bald boy bowed. "I've come from very far away. I heard Master Roshi is the greatest martial artist in the world, and I want to be his student!" Master Roshi stroked his chin. "You came alone? Where are your parents?" Krillin's expression dimmed. "I... I don't have parents. I was an orphan adopted by a temple, but I ran away later." Master Roshi was silent for a moment, then said, "It's not simple to become my student. See those children? They are your seniors; you must train with them. If you can last a month, I will officially accept you." Krillin looked at the children in the sea carrying turtle shells and gritted his teeth. "I can do it!" "Good. Kashu, come up and bring this little junior brother along for training." Kashu brought his brothers ashore and sized up Krillin. This was Krillin, Son Goku's best friend from the original story, from rival to bosom friend. "Hello, I'm Kashu." Kashu extended his hand. "H-hello." Krillin shook Kashu's hand with some trepidation, then recoiled—Kashu's palm was rough and powerful, like sandpaper. "Your hands... they're from training." Kashu smiled. "Krillin, since you've come to learn, you must be prepared to suffer. Master Roshi's training is no joke." "I'm not afraid of hardship!" Krillin puffed out his chest. "That's good." Kashu picked up a turtle shell from the ground and handed it to Krillin. "Put this on and come run laps with us." Krillin took the shell and was nearly crushed to the ground. "This... this is so heavy!" "It's only two hundred kilograms." Son Goku said from the side. "My brother is carrying five hundred!" Krillin swallowed hard, gritted his teeth, and hoisted the shell. His legs trembled, but he did not fall. A flash of appreciation crossed Kashu's eyes. This little bald kid certainly had guts.