Accelerated Training

On the fifth day, the stone fragment's analysis progress jumped to 6%. When Lin Chen returned to the tool shed after his morning run, the progress bar on the panel had gained another small segment since yesterday. It was not fast, but it was steadily advancing. He made no adjustments, merely confirmed the progress and put the fragment back on the shelf.

The training schedule had become more compact than before these past few days. Son Gohan had already left after spending a week by the mountain road, but before leaving, he had taught Goku a set of exercises focused on exerting force. Goku practiced one set every morning and evening, sometimes repeating the same motion in a corner of the yard until his shoulders were completely relaxed before moving on to the next. Krillin was also practicing the contents of that new book. He had reached the middle of it, and the creases in its pages had been pressed deep, as though he had flipped through them countless times.

Lin Chen's training regimen had not changed much, but he could clearly feel his body continually adapting to greater intensity. Every morning, he ran the new route to the outpost twice before turning back, then swam out to White Reef. In the afternoon, he trained in the Gravity Room, and in the evening, he carried stones or tidied the yard. These movements were becoming as natural as breathing. He no longer needed to consciously consider where to place his feet or the rhythm of his exertion. His body automatically adjusted to the proper angles.

After finishing his Gravity Room training that afternoon, he stood in the yard rolling his shoulders and noticed that his arms moved more smoothly than last week when he withdrew from a strike. He no longer needed to deliberately control the angle. He pressed a hand against his shoulder. His skin temperature was normal, and there was no soreness.

[Ding! Basic martial arts experience: +24%.]

He lowered his hand and walked into the tool shed. The stone fragment was still on the shelf, in the same position as yesterday. He picked it up and held it in his palm for a while, feeling it absorb his body heat. Turning it over, he saw that the patterns on the back were slightly clearer than yesterday beneath the sidelong light. He traced them once with his fingertips and felt the lines converge near the center of the fragment. That point was slightly indented, as though something had gently pressed against it.

[Ding! Unknown item analysis progress: 7%.]

The warmth in his palm lingered for a while before fading. When he set the stone fragment down and walked out of the tool shed, Krillin was washing vegetables in the yard. Droplets fell from the edges of the leaves, splashing tiny ripples in the basin. Seeing Lin Chen come out, he asked, "Want to go to West City tomorrow morning?"

Lin Chen paused. "What are we going there for?"

"The old goods market." Krillin placed the washed vegetables into a basket beside him. "Aren't you interested in that stone?"

Lin Chen thought about it. "Sure, we can take a look."

Early the next morning, the two boarded a small aircraft Bulma had left behind. Krillin had borrowed it after asking her. The aircraft followed the coastline for a stretch before turning inland. After flying at low altitude for around twenty minutes, a cluster of gray-brown buildings appeared ahead. West City's old goods market lay in the middle of an old district. The storefronts lining both sides of the street were narrow, with all kinds of old items piled outside their doors—ironware, wooden goods, pottery jars, old books. Some lay on the ground outside, more than half covered in dust, with traces of rainwater washing still remaining along their edges.

Krillin stopped in front of the shop with the narrowest storefront. A wooden sign hung outside, its lettering so faded that its original words could no longer be made out. An old man sat on a short stool by the entrance, an old lock before him. He was using a thin needle to clean the accumulated grime from its keyhole. He looked up at the two of them, then lowered his head and continued cleaning the keyhole.

Krillin crouched down. "Sir, we have a stone we'd like you to take a look at."

The old man put down the lock in his hand. "What kind of stone?"

Lin Chen took the stone fragment from his pocket and handed it over. The old man accepted it without speaking immediately. He turned the fragment over, examined it against the light for a while, then ran his thumb around its edge. After that, he placed it in his palm and weighed it twice. "The texture of this stone is unusual. It doesn't seem local. Where did you get it?"

"They gave it to me over at the betting arena."

The old man turned the stone fragment over and looked at the indentation on its back. "This indentation wasn't caused by wear. It was deliberately made as a mark, like something used to indicate a direction. When you touch it, do you feel it shift toward a particular direction?"

Lin Chen took the stone fragment back and pressed his thumb against the indentation. "To the left."

The old man nodded. "Then that's it. This kind of stone has appeared among old objects from the desert. It isn't meant to be held; it's meant to be placed." He handed the fragment back to Lin Chen. "If you want to figure out what it's for, you'll need to find something more complete in the desert. There's not much you can tell from this stone alone."

Lin Chen put the fragment back into his pocket. "Thank you."

The old man said nothing more. He picked up the lock and needle again and continued cleaning the grime from the keyhole, as though the conversation had never happened.

The two walked back along the street. Sunlight fell across the stone-paved road of the old goods market. Fine moss grew in the gaps between the stones, making them somewhat slippery underfoot. Krillin walked beside him. "He's right. One stone fragment really isn't enough."

"At least we confirmed it isn't local," Lin Chen said. "And that the indentation is a marker indicating direction." He touched the stone fragment in his pocket. Through the fabric, he could feel its outline and temperature. Shop owners on both sides of the street arranged goods of every kind outside their doors. Someone was hanging an iron sign back in place, and the sound of nails striking metal echoed through the alley for a moment, as if it had been stretched out. A crack ran through the concrete at the market entrance. The colors on either side were uneven, one side darker and the other lighter, as though time flowed at different speeds on each side.