Endless Vitality

Seventeen years later, Mount Paozu.

The morning mist had yet to disperse from the mountainside when Talos was already standing atop the oldest reef at the summit. This was where he had practiced boxing every morning in his youth, and two shallow footprints had been worn into the rock's surface. In the distance, smoke was curling up from Turtle Hermit House, and the sea breeze carried the scent of seafood porridge all the way to the mountaintop.

The sounds of fists and feet colliding came from below. Talos's daughter—a ponytailed girl with a brown tail wrapped around her waist—was sparring with Goku's eldest son, Gohan. The orange martial uniforms of the two children fluttered in the morning light, their tails swishing excitedly as their exchanges already carried the form of proper Turtle Hermit School disciples.

"Your straight punch still veers left!" The girl struck the side of Gohan's fist with a Tiger-Subduing Palm, precisely deflecting the force of his punch.

"That's because you always dodge to the right!" Gohan pulled back his fist and grinned. That smile was exactly like Goku's.

"Anticipating the direction of your opponent's dodge is part of training too. Just like Teacher Mutaito said—the Turtle Hermit School's basic boxing isn't meant for hitting people. It's meant to keep people from hitting you."

The corners of Talos's mouth lifted slightly. Old Master Zhao had said the same thing when he taught Talos the Tiger-Subduing Palm beside the waterfall. Hearing those words come from his own daughter now brought him more satisfaction than any breakthrough in combat power ever could.

Lazuli walked up the mountain path. She wore a plain white training uniform, and the cracks in the silver bracelet on her left wrist glimmered faintly in the morning light—seventeen years had passed, and the cracks in the S-1 bracelet had long since been sealed into patterns by a golden coating, like the frozen surface of a river in winter. She did not call an end to the children's sparring. She merely stopped beside Talos. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the two orange figures below in silence for a long time.

"She asked me yesterday why she had to wrap her tail around her waist."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that a Saiyan's tail is a symbol of strength, but true strength doesn't come from a tail—it comes from choice. Just as you chose to become a Turtle Hermit School disciple. You weren't chosen."

Talos turned to look at Lazuli. Her tone had remained cool over the past seventeen years, yet whenever she spoke of their daughter, there was always an incredibly faint, gentle softness beneath that coolness. Only he and Krillin could tell the difference.

"Krillin said last time that he wanted to formally take her on as a disciple to inherit the Qi Net. He said her precision in sensing qi was the highest among children her age, even better than his own had been while training at The Lookout. What do you think?"

"Let her choose for herself. If she wants to learn the Qi Net, she can find Uncle Krillin. If she wants to learn boxing, she can find Uncle Goku. If she wants to learn tactical simulations, she can find Vegeta. The Turtle Hermit School has never lacked teachers—only people willing to choose their own path." Talos suddenly chuckled. "She chose the Turtle Hermit School herself. That's already her answer."

The new Turtle Hermit House dojo stood on the hill between Mount Paozu and the South Sea. The beach lay right before its entrance, while behind it stood the coconut grove Old Master Zhao had planted years ago. Master Roshi stood at the dojo entrance with his cane, the morning light reflected in his sunglasses. His hair had gone completely white, but that cane had not truly supported him in seventeen years—he merely held it, using it occasionally to rap his disciples on the head.

Today was the first assessment for the Turtle Hermit School's new generation of disciples. The beach outside the dojo was packed—Goku and Chi-Chi's younger son Goten, Vegeta and Bulma's son Trunks, Tien Shinhan and Chiaotzu's personal disciples from recent years, as well as the students Nappa and Lapis had each selected. Krillin and Lazuli sat side by side on the bench outside the dojo, while the black cat named Puar was still curled up on Lazuli's lap, dozing.

The assessment covered the complete set of Turtle Hermit School basic boxing techniques—straight punch, Crushing Fist, chopping punch, rising punch, and cannon punch. Every move had a corresponding mental formula: "A straight punch must first stabilize the stance." "The force of the Crushing Fist comes from the dantian, not the arms." "When the chopping punch strikes, it falls like a blade; when it withdraws, it recedes like the tide." These teachings had passed from Mutaito's Notes to Master Roshi, then to Talos's generation, and were now to be passed on to the younger children before them.

Talos's daughter was the first to take the field. Her ponytail swept out a graceful arc as she turned, and every punch precisely matched its corresponding formula. She controlled the release and withdrawal of her power with ease, while faint golden patterns could be seen flowing through the qi around her fists. Nappa's disciple went second, his punches fierce but still lacking refinement in control. Lapis's disciple went third, combining speed and precision, though his circulation of qi was not yet fully practiced. Goten and Trunks took the finale. While sparring, they accidentally stepped on Trunks's tail, and Trunks retaliated by blasting away part of Goten's pant leg.

Master Roshi tapped the dojo doorframe with his cane, and the entire area fell silent. "You all passed. Every one of you. Not because you fought well—but because after you finished, you all checked whether your companions were hurt." He took off his sunglasses and wiped them with the corner of his shirt. "Teacher Mutaito once said that the Turtle Hermit School has never lacked geniuses. What it lacks are fists capable of protecting companions. Your generation is better than mine was."

Talos stood in a corner of the dojo, watching his daughter crouch beside Trunks to brush the sand from his tail. The motion came so naturally that it required no thought—Lazuli had never taught her to do it, but she had learned to care for her companions of her own accord in the Turtle Hermit School's environment.

"This is more important than mastering every martial art combined," he said softly.

Goku stood beside him, holding a bowl of seafood porridge that had gone cold and been reheated, watching the children on the beach chatter away as they argued over whose punch had looked the best. He grinned. "Just like us back then."

At dusk, the setting sun dyed the entire South Sea gold and crimson. Talos stood alone at the entrance of Turtle Hermit House, flipping through Mutaito's Notes, which had been passed down through three generations. Each generation's head had written their name on the blank final page. Mutaito, Master Roshi, Zhao Tiexin, Talos—his hand paused over the ink of the fourth line.

Lazuli stepped out of the house and handed him a brush already dipped in ink without saying a word.

Talos took the brush and slowly wrote on the blank final page of the notes: "The Turtle Hermit School shall endure without end. Fifth-generation successor—Talos." He closed the notes and looked toward the orange figures still chasing and roughhousing by the shore.

Moonlight fell over Mount Paozu's beach, coating every young face in a pale layer of silver. In the Turtle Hermit House kitchen, a fresh pot of seafood porridge bubbled and steamed, while the cat named Puar snored beside the stove. Master Roshi reclined in his chair, removed his sunglasses, and gazed at the full moon overhead as he softly spoke words only he could hear.

"Teacher, do you see? It shall endure without end."