Loss of Control

Dawn came especially early in the South Sea. The first streak of gray-white had barely appeared on the horizon when three figures were already standing on the beach before Turtle Hermit House. Talos stood barefoot on the damp sand left behind by the receding tide, gazing at the orange-gold dawn where sea met sky, his breathing so steady that he seemed to still be asleep. Goku crouched on a nearby reef, yawning, his tail hanging listlessly into a crack in the rock. Krillin sat on the sand with his arms around his knees, his eyes not yet fully open.

"Four thirty in the morning." Master Roshi's voice came from behind the three of them, carrying an unquestionable authority. "Starting today, this is when you get up every day. No exceptions until the martial arts tournament."

Goku leaped down from the reef. "Master Mutaito! What are we training today?!"

"Warm-up first. Run around the island ten times—on foot. No using ki."

Krillin looked at the island, barely visible through the morning mist, and his voice cracked. "One lap around this island has to be at least five kilometers, right?!"

"A little over four kilometers." Master Roshi pushed up his sunglasses. "No breakfast if you don't finish."

Goku was the first to dash off, faster than a rabbit, disappearing into the coconut grove in the blink of an eye. Krillin sighed and followed, his steps heavy but his rhythm steady. Talos was about to set off when Master Roshi stopped him. "You run twenty laps. Wear this."

Master Roshi dragged a black weighted vest out from behind the door and tossed it onto the beach. It smashed a deep crater into the sand. Seawater slowly seeped in, taking quite a while to fill it.

Talos picked up the vest and weighed it in his hand—roughly two hundred pounds, not too heavy. But once he put it on, he realized something was wrong. The inside of the vest was embedded with a dense layer of metal plates, every one of them vibrating faintly. The vibrations passed through his skin and into his meridians, interfering with the flow of his ki and turning his normally smooth internal energy into something intermittent, like a radio with poor reception.

"Black Iron Resonance Plates." Master Roshi walked over to him. "There are sixty-four in this vest. Every single one precisely suppresses the resonance frequency of one of your ki channels. The Ki Control Zhao Tiexin taught you gave you far greater command over ki than ordinary people, which is why you're steadier than anyone else. But being too steady makes you rigid. This gear was designed specifically for control-type martial artists—when you can't perfectly control your ki, your body has to learn to find balance amid the loss of control. Don't try to fight it. Let it become chaotic. Find a way to exert force in that chaos that you've never tried before. Go."

Talos fell silent for a moment, then tightened the vest's shoulder straps. "Yes."

He took his first step. His foot sank deeper into the sand than usual, as the weight of the vest shifted his center of gravity. The second step improved; he slightly adjusted the angle of his forward lean, turning gravity into momentum rather than a burden. Third step, fourth, fifth—his speed began to increase, and his footprints in the sand grew shallower and shallower. Standing at the entrance of Turtle Hermit House, Master Roshi watched his receding figure, the corner of his mouth slowly lifting into an almost imperceptible curve.

By the time Goku and Krillin finished ten laps, they had collapsed onto the beach, gasping for breath, their training uniforms soaked with sweat. Seeing Talos still running, Goku abruptly sat up. "Master Mutaito! Why does Talos have to run ten more laps?!"

"Because he's wearing that." Master Roshi pointed at the crater in the sand left by the Black Iron vest.

Krillin walked over and tried to lift the vest with one hand. His face instantly turned red—he could not lift it at all with one hand, and only barely raised it with both, the veins on his forehead bulging. "He ran ten laps wearing this?!"

"He's about to finish fifteen." Master Roshi glanced at the approaching figure in the distance. "And he hasn't slowed down."

By the time Talos completed his twentieth lap, the sun had risen above the sea. He stopped, breathing much more heavily than usual, his training uniform beneath the vest thoroughly soaked. The interference from the Black Iron Resonance Plates was greater than he had expected. Throughout the run, he had tried countless times to channel ki to lessen the burden, only for the plates to scatter it each time. In the end, he could only give up—not give up running, but give up control. Let his body adapt on its own. Let his muscles find the most effortless rhythm themselves.

"Can you feel it?" Master Roshi walked over.

"I can." Talos removed the vest. The instant the ki inside him resumed its smooth flow, a faint tingling ran through all his meridians—like a tightly compressed spring suddenly released. The sensation was so refreshing that he could not help taking a deep breath.

"Running is only the first step. For the farming, swimming, and sparring that come next, you'll wear it the entire time. Only when you can do everything in it exactly as well as without it can you call that true control." Master Roshi turned and walked toward Turtle Hermit House, waving a hand. "Now eat. Keep going after breakfast."

The morning training was farming. Behind Turtle Hermit House was a small patch of dry land, but the soil was as hard as stone. The rule was no hoes and no plows—only fists. Master Roshi placed a timer on the ridge and demanded that they turn over the entire field within thirty minutes. Goku rushed into the field first, his fists raining down on the ground as dirt and stones flew everywhere. Crooked furrows appeared in his wake; he was fast, but the field was a complete mess. Before Krillin started, he squatted on the ridge and observed for five minutes—examining the soil, the angle of the punches, and the depth at which the force penetrated—before selecting the smallest plot. He struck the same point with precision, one punch after another, leaving overturned clods so neat that they looked measured by a ruler.

Talos stood in the center of the field wearing the Black Iron vest. The resonance plates were still interfering with his ki, but he had begun adapting to that interference—not resisting it, but borrowing its force. With every punch, he no longer tried to wrap his fist in ki. Instead, he let the raw power of his fist pierce straight through the earth. It did not matter if his ki was scattered; his muscles themselves were weapons. His fists slammed into the ground, each strike blasting open a deep pit. The clods he turned up were larger than Goku's and deeper than Krillin's. When the timer hit zero thirty minutes later, he had plowed the entire field—twice Goku's area and three times Krillin's.

"Monster." Krillin swallowed as he looked at Talos's section of the field.

"Not a monster." Master Roshi rose from the ridge. "He found the method. The bottleneck for control-type martial artists is that they rely too much on control. Once that control is broken, they tend to collapse. Talos broke through one layer of his shell today—only the first layer, but he's already stronger than he was yesterday. The two of you are the same. Goku, you have enough strength, but it's too scattered. Tomorrow, learn to focus that power on a smaller point. Krillin, your precision is good enough, but you're too slow. Tomorrow, try increasing your punching frequency while maintaining that precision. All right, to the beach—the next exercise is swimming."

The afternoon training was swimming. They had to swim from Turtle Hermit House to the island across the sea and then swim back, nearly ten kilometers in total. This was where Talos felt truly unaccustomed for the first time. In the water, the Black Iron Resonance Plates were activated by the current, their vibration frequency more than double what it was on land. His ki was almost completely scattered underwater, and every stroke was driven purely by muscle. Wave after wave crashed over him, saltwater flooding his nose and throat, his vision filled with churning white foam.

When he reached the halfway point, he suddenly remembered what Master Roshi had said—"Don't resist." So he stopped trying to maintain a perfect posture in the water, allowing his body to drift with the waves and exerting force only at the most critical moments. His speed actually increased.

By evening, the last sliver of sunset had sunk beneath the horizon. The three of them lay sprawled on the beach. Goku was so exhausted that he could not even lift his tail, while Krillin lay spread-eagled, gazing up at the stars. Master Roshi emerged carrying a pot of seafood congee and served each of them a large bowl. There were no turtle shells in it—the congee was clean today.

"Go to bed early after you finish eating. Tomorrow's training volume goes up by thirty percent."

"Thirty percent?!" Krillin's spoon fell into his bowl.

"Forty percent."

"No, no, no, thirty percent is great! Thirty percent is enough!"

After dinner and washing up, Goku and Krillin flopped onto their beds, their snores beginning almost simultaneously. Talos did not go inside. He sat alone on the beach. The moon had risen halfway into the sky, turning the sea into a stretch of silver-white silk. The tide had receded, and the sand that had been scorching hot under the sun during the day was now pleasantly warm beneath his feet, like countless tiny fingers massaging his soles.

He removed the Black Iron vest and set it beside him, then rolled his shoulders. The day's training had left his muscles faintly sore, but a Saiyan's recovery ability was repairing those tiny injuries at a speed far beyond that of ordinary people. He could feel his muscles becoming sturdier and his meridians more resilient after every recovery.

"System, today's growth data."

"Ding—Attribute Panel:

text
Host: Talos
Base Battle Power: 5800 (+200 from adaptive training)
Passive Skills: Ki Control (Sixth Layer · Instinct Release branch activated), Battle Gene Awakening (Max Level)
Active Skills: Flight Technique, Ki Blast, Afterimage Fist, Solar Flare, Multi-Form Technique
Special Status: Black Iron Resonance Plate Adaptation 17%. When adaptation reaches 100%, Battle Power will increase by an additional 500 and the passive skill 'Steel Body' will be unlocked.

"

An extra five hundred Battle Power was not much, but the passive skill Steel Body sounded useful. His greatest weakness now was not attack power—his base Battle Power of 5800 was already the ceiling on Earth—but his ability to withstand strain. The backlash of Kaioken, the life force consumption of the Evil Containment Wave, and the increasingly powerful attacks of future enemies all tested the limits of what his body could endure.

"Continue monitoring the adaptation level."

"Ding—Monitoring set. If the host continues training while wearing the Black Iron vest, adaptation is expected to exceed 100% within seven days."

He stood, put the Black Iron vest back on, and walked toward the sea. Master Roshi did not permit extra training at night—the old man had said that overtraining would only be counterproductive. But he was not here to train. He wanted to verify something Master Roshi had said during the day, words that had stayed on his mind for a long time—"Real combat isn't chess. Your opponent won't follow your rhythm."

He closed his eyes and voluntarily shut down fifty percent of his Ki Control precision. Instinct Release activated. The ki within him began to lose control—not dispersing, but running wild. The ki he had always controlled with such precision lost its reins and rampaged through his meridians like wild horses. His muscles swelled, his body temperature rose, and his heart pounded furiously. At the same time, however, his Battle Power truly surged.

"Ding—Instinct Release State: Battle Power +30%. Current effective Battle Power: 7540. Physical Load Index: 65/100, moderate-to-high risk. Control precision has dropped to 50%. Some precision techniques are temporarily unavailable."

He opened his eyes. His pupils were no longer their usual calm gray, but were tinted with a faint crimson. He raised a hand—the veins on his palm bulged, and his knuckles trembled slightly from the excessive power filling them. In this state, he could not use Afterimage Fist or Solar Flare, and the accuracy of his Ki Blast would be greatly reduced. But he did not need them. He kicked off the ground and shot forward.

A deep crater exploded across the beach. He was at least thirty percent faster than usual, his whole body dragging a blurred afterimage beneath the moonlight as he punched toward the sea. The surface of the water split open in a fissure several meters long before his fist. Before the seawater on either side could close back together, his second punch was already launched. Then came the third, fourth, and fifth. There was no technique in any of them, only raw power and speed. The sea exploded into white columns of water dozens of feet high, and the spray was scattered into a fine mist by the force of his punches.

When he threw his thirtieth punch, the system warning sounded.

"Ding—Instinct Release has been maintained for too long. Physical load has risen to 82/100. Immediate deactivation is advised."

He deactivated Instinct Release. The red glow faded from his pupils, and his rampaging meridians slowly calmed. He panted heavily, sweat dripping from his cheeks into the ocean, but the corner of his mouth was raised. Thirty punches. He had traded minimal control for maximum destructive power. This strength was normally suppressed tightly by his control, only released when he lost control. If he could wield it while retaining part of that control—his Battle Power would rise to another level.

"System, archive tonight's training data. Name it 'Out-of-Control State.'"

"Ding—Archived. The host's attack power rises significantly in the 'Out-of-Control State,' but precision declines substantially. It is recommended that the 'Out-of-Control State' be positioned as a form for frontal breakthroughs or desperate bursts, and not used in battles requiring precision."

He turned and walked toward Turtle Hermit House. When he reached the door, it suddenly opened. Master Roshi stood there with his hands behind his back, the moonlight dyeing his grizzled hair silver. He glanced at the smoking craters on the beach and the sea surface blasted into a mess, then at Talos, soaked from head to toe.

"How did losing control feel?"

"Strange," Talos admitted. "But useful. I thought you were already asleep."

"Old people don't sleep deeply to begin with. Did you think I wouldn't hear you blasting dozens of craters into the beach?" Master Roshi adjusted his sunglasses, looking at the fist marks still steaming in the distance. His voice was soft. "If you want to sneak in training, do it during the day. Sleep at night."

"Yes."

"And," Master Roshi said as he turned and went back inside, his voice drifting out through the doorway, "losing control isn't the goal. The goal is finding that line between losing control and control. When you can throw an Afterimage Fist in the Out-of-Control State, that's when you'll have truly broken through. Don't rush—it's a line even I haven't crossed." The door closed softly.

Talos stood silently before the door for a long time. Then he bowed toward the tightly shut door and went inside.

Goku was still snoring, his tail swaying gently in his sleep as he mumbled, "Another bowl..." Krillin rolled over and muttered, "Thirty percent really is enough," before pulling the blanket over his head. Talos sat cross-legged and closed his eyes. But he did not sleep.

He was thinking. The power of the Out-of-Control State had shown him another possibility—breaking through the conventional limit of combat power without using Kaioken. The burden of twofold Kaioken was too great; gambling his life on a single move was no long-term solution. The Out-of-Control State was equivalent to a "low-cost burst" option. Though it was not as extreme as Kaioken, the price was lower and its controllability greater. If he could train it until he could activate and dismiss it at will, he would have another trump card in the martial arts tournament.

Six days later, Turtle Hermit House beach.

Black Iron Vest Adaptation had broken through 100%. Talos was on his morning run when the system prompt appeared. The resonance plates on the vest stopped vibrating, not because they had broken, but because his body had fully adapted to that frequency. His ki began flowing smoothly through his meridians again—not because the resonance plates had failed, but because he had learned to find pathways for his ki between the gaps in the resonance.

"Ding—Black Iron Resonance Plate Adaptation: 100%. Combat power +500. 'Steel Body' passive unlocked."

"Current Base Combat Power: 6300."

"'Steel Body': Physical defense permanently increased by 30%. When subjected to physical attacks, there is a chance of triggering the 'Rebound Shock' effect, reflecting a portion of the damage back to the attacker."

Master Roshi stood in the doorway, watching him take off the vest he had worn for seven full days. Light flashed across his sunglasses. "How does it feel?"

"Lighter." Talos rolled his shoulders.

"Then that's right. You think the vest feels lighter, but it hasn't changed—you have." Master Roshi smiled, then turned and walked into the house. "Rest today. Move training begins tomorrow. You two as well—rest!"

Six days ago, he had still needed the system's assistance to precisely control every thread of ki. Now, he could switch freely between losing control and precision. Six days ago, running ten laps in a two-hundred-pound vest had left him struggling; now, twenty laps felt like walking on level ground. But what had truly made him stronger was not the combat power numbers—it was Master Roshi's words: "Let your body adapt on its own."

That afternoon, the three rested on the beach. Goku could not stay still and ran into the reef pile to catch crabs. Krillin lay beneath a coconut tree, flipping through a martial arts manual and occasionally making a few gestures in the air with his fingers. Talos sat cross-legged on a reef, gazing out at the sea. The sea breeze brushed against him as he closed his eyes and sensed everything around him. Goku's aura leaped between the reefs, full of vitality. Krillin's aura was refined and subtle beneath the coconut tree, steady as a lake. Master Roshi's aura within Turtle Hermit House was deep and tranquil as an abyss. Three auras, three completely different paths of martial arts.

"System, save the current time point. Save name: 'Turtle Hermit School Daily Life.'"

"Ding—Saved. Note: This is the first time the system has responded to the host's proactive save request while in a non-combat state."

Because it was worth saving. These peaceful days—without Piccolo, without Saiyans, without gods and Gods of Destruction—were the most precious moments he had experienced since coming to this world. There were still many days ahead, and many battles to come. But at this moment, he only wanted to sit on the reef and watch the sea, listening to Goku's startled cries as he battled crabs in the distance.

Inside Turtle Hermit House, Master Roshi opened the final page of Mutaito's Notes. There was only one line written on it—"The Turtle Hermit School has never lacked geniuses, but it lacks masters who can protect them."

Master Roshi was silent for a moment before closing the notes. He removed his sunglasses and wiped the lenses with the corner of his clothes. Looking at the three boys on the beach outside the window, he softly said, "Master, this time, I won't let history repeat itself."