The Fourth Generation's Succession

The New Turtle Hermit patrol ship had been docked at a spaceport on the edge of Universe 7 in the Connection Sea for routine maintenance for three days when Talos's granddaughter wrote a line in the captain's log: "During the patrol mission downtime, all personnel will return to Earth to attend the Turtle Hermit School's annual martial arts tournament." After writing it, she paused and added four words before "martial arts tournament"—"First Fourth-Generation."

After news of the first Fourth-Generation Turtle Hermit School Martial Arts Tournament was broadcast simultaneously to patrol stations across all twelve universes, the Connection Sea's inter-universal communication channels were flooded with registration messages within days. Universe 6's Saiyan homeworld sent three entire ships of competitors and spectators—most of them had lived in peacetime since birth and had only heard their elders recount the story of King Vegeta pressing the launch button. All fourth-generation students of New Planet Namek's combat tradition signed up, led by a light-green-skinned young Namekian. He was the youngest graduate among Piccolo's final batch of disciples on New Planet Namek. His Qi Fractals antennae could still only split into a dozen or so strands, but every one of them was far more precise than those of his peers. The people of the blue-skinned girl from Universe 4 sent the first young students in their history to leave their homeworld. Before their departure, their chieftain said to the entire clan, "The Turtle Hermit School did not come to conquer us back then. It came to connect us. Today, you are not going to compete. You are going to tell everyone that Universe 4 is here too."

The beach outside the Turtle Hermit House dojo was completely renovated by Bulma's granddaughter and an engineering crew. The arena itself was not expanded much, but the spectator area around it was enlarged several times over, with temporary stands built using the capsule technology Bulma had left behind. Nappa carried a brand-new broken pillar over his shoulder—he said it was a memento of last month's record-breaking training volume, carved with the dates when every fourth-generation disciple had first independently completed the full set of basic punches—and planted it directly in front of the arena as a flagpole. A new dojo flag hung at its peak: orange, with a black character for "Turtle" in the center, embroidered by Talos's granddaughter herself. When she finished it, she stood before the flag for a long, long time. At last, she handed it to Lazuli's granddaughter and softly said, "Grandma would have liked it." Lazuli's granddaughter accepted the flag, her fingers gently tracing every stitch of the character, then nodded without saying a word.

On the morning of the tournament, the beach was packed. Never before had orange martial arts uniforms gathered so densely upon the same stretch of sand—from white-haired first-generation elders to the youngest generation still wearing training clothes. Hundreds stood in order of seniority, yet there was no distance between them. Goku and Vegeta sat in wicker chairs directly before the arena, their white hair stirring slightly in the sea breeze. Piccolo sat to the left with the New Planet Namek delegation, his Qi Fractals antennae extending into every corner of the arena to monitor the energy fluctuations of every match in real time, serving as both a safety measure and an aid to the referees. Krillin and Lazuli sat side by side on the rocks to the right, golden Star Topology patterns slowly flowing between their wrists. Tien Shinhan and Chiaotzu sat beneath the vine trellis, while Nappa and Lapis stood at the edge of the arena as chief and deputy chief referees. Nappa's opening speech was, "Only two rules: don't blow up the arena with qi, and don't cry just because you can't win!"

The first match pitted a Saiyan student from Universe 6 against a fourth-generation student from New Planet Namek. The instant the two young fighters clashed, Goku leaned forward slightly, his eyes lighting up—the Saiyan student's punching trajectory was almost identical to Vegeta's in his youth. Clearly, he had been taught by a disciple of Vegeta's disciple. The Namekian student's rhythm of automatically extending and retracting his arms while dodging, meanwhile, carried traces of Piccolo's old style. Midway through the match, the Namekian student's arm suddenly stretched out during a dodge and coiled around his opponent's ankle—not something Piccolo had taught him, but a variation he had created on the spot in actual combat. Piccolo's antennae twitched slightly as he recorded the move in the Qi Fractals combat database. "I didn't teach him that," he murmured. Beside him, Tien Shinhan had both eyes closed, opening only his deteriorating third eye to precisely catch the joint angle of the wrapping motion. "You didn't teach it, but he learned everything from you," he added. His tone was as flat as if he were commenting on the pleasant weather, but the faint curve at the corner of his mouth gave away how he felt.

Next came Lazuli's granddaughter against one of the blue-skinned girl's people. There were no fierce exchanges of fists and feet in this match—Lazuli's granddaughter wove a Star Topology with Qi Net that covered the entire arena, while the blue-skinned girl continuously analyzed its structure through energy resonance. The two stood quietly in the arena, qi threads at their fingertips and waves of perception clashing soundlessly in the air. In the stands, Krillin suddenly said softly, "That kid's weaving a steadier net than you did back then." Lazuli lowered her head to look at the cracked S-1 wristband on her left wrist. Her voice was soft but steady. "She understands the meaning of the net better than I did—not to trap an opponent, but to connect with one." At that moment, the blue-skinned girl on the arena withdrew all her perception waves and voluntarily reached out to grasp Lazuli's granddaughter's qi thread. She smiled. "You win. Not because you trapped me—but because you let me see your entire network, and after seeing it, I can't keep attacking you." Nappa froze for a moment at the referees' table, then turned to ask Lapis, "Does that count as surrender or a draw?" Lapis replied expressionlessly, "It counts as you still not understanding the match."

The individual finals that afternoon unfolded between Talos's granddaughter and the youngest student from Universe 6's Saiyan homeworld. The quiet boy had only been on Earth for a few months. During morning training, he always ran laps in silence, then squatted beside the rocks to watch the sea when he finished. Yet in those few months, he had absorbed every kind of training available to him at an astonishing rate—Goku had taught him how to drive force through a straight punch, Vegeta had corrected his defensive stance, and Piccolo had guided the flow of his qi. Before the finals began, he looked down at his chest—the Star Topology subnode Talos's granddaughter had personally woven for him flickered faintly in the morning light. He pressed a hand over it, then raised his head and assumed the opening stance of the Turtle Hermit School's basic punches. His posture was so flawless that even Vegeta raised an eyebrow slightly.

The instant they clashed, Goku's fingers tightened slightly around the armrest of his wicker chair. He saw that every punch from the quiet child fused too many different legacies—the force from the lower dantian was the original Turtle Hermit School method, the acceleration of arm strength was a variation Goku himself favored, the precise control of punching angles came from Vegeta's defensive-counterattack style, the breathing adjustments under pressure followed Piccolo's Qi Fractals rhythm, and even his habit of weaving disruptive qi threads with his fingertips during gaps in his evasions was a technique Krillin had pioneered during special training at The Lookout. The traces of every inheritor of the Turtle Hermit School over decades had converged within him.

He lost the finals. Talos's granddaughter used a final Tiger-Subduing Palm to precisely deflect the force of his straight punch, while lightly tapping his ankle with her toe and throwing him off balance. He fell onto the arena floor, the subnode on his chest still pulsing steadily, its golden glow never fading. The entire venue fell silent for a moment. Then he rose, bowed to Talos's granddaughter, and said in a soft but resolute voice, "Please keep teaching me."

Thunderous applause erupted across the beach. Goku leaned back in his wicker chair with a wide grin, Vegeta's lips curved up slightly, and Piccolo's antennae permanently saved all the data from the match into the Qi Fractals database. Nappa loudly announced the result of the finals from the referees' table, his voice so booming that it startled even the seagulls on the far side of the beach into flight.

After the tournament, all the participating students spontaneously gathered beneath the arena to exchange variations of their respective schools' basic punches. The Saiyan students from Universe 6 taught the New Planet Namek students how to retain enough strength to counterattack while dodging. The New Planet Namek students taught the blue-skinned people of Universe 4 how to extend the boundaries of qi perception through their minds. Earth's Turtle Hermit School disciples taught everyone the principles of using force from the lower dantian in the Turtle Hermit School's basic punches. No one organized them, and no one maintained order. Young disciples of different universes and civilizations gathered to learn from one another because they were the Turtle Hermit School—not one person's school, but the shared school of everyone willing to answer the call of connection.

At dusk, Talos's granddaughter stood alone atop the old reef at the summit of Mount Paozu, flipping through Mutaito's Notes. The notebook had been passed down through several generations, and every page bore different names, each generation's handwriting unlike the last. She turned to the page where the fourth-generation disciples had left their names. It was densely covered with the names of every participant in this tournament. Taking up her pen, she added a line at the bottom: "First Fourth-Generation Turtle Hermit School Martial Arts Tournament. Every participant is my teacher." Then she closed the notebook and looked toward the golden-red beach at the dojo entrance halfway down the mountain, painted by the setting sun.

Goku and Vegeta stood side by side at the dojo entrance. Goku watched the young disciples gathered together, exchanging boxing techniques, and suddenly said, "Vegeta. We taught them."

"You already said that on the mountaintop last time."

"That was different. Last time, I was counting how many of them there were. This time, they're counting how many legacies they have." Goku pointed toward the ruins beside the arena, where several Saiyan students from Universe 6 and Earth disciples were helping Nappa set the broken pillar back up—after getting too excited following the finals, Nappa had punched the pillar and cracked the commemorative monument he had carved himself. The young people laughed as they repaired it, their laughter spreading across the entire beach.

Vegeta was silent for a long time before the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "At the next sparring session, we'll teach them fusion techniques."

"Last time, you said my fusion moves looked stupid."

"Stupid or not, we teach them. We can't let the next generation only know how to fight alone."

Goku turned to Vegeta and grinned. It was exactly the same smile he had worn decades ago beneath the moonlight on Mount Paozu when he told Talos, "Let's practice punches together."

Late that night, a bonfire blazed on the beach outside the Turtle Hermit House. Turtle Hermit School disciples from all twelve universes sat around it, their orange uniforms joining into a warm band of light. Beside the rubbing from the Night Watcher Observatory, Piccolo carved the complete record of the fourth generation. Beneath all the tournament's data, he engraved a new line: "All fourth-generation disciples have completed independent inheritance. The observer identity has officially been transferred to the fourth generation. Turtle Hermit School, connection ongoing." Below it, he inscribed the names of every core fourth-generation disciple. When he finished, he handed the carving knife to Talos's granddaughter. "From now on, you carve the new names."

Somewhere in an unknown starfield deep within the Connection Sea, the Creator opened his eyes. Dark-golden patterns flowed quietly around him. Across that endless sea of stars, every civilization still evolving continued to evolve, and every network still connecting continued to extend. The lonely one's heartbeat pulse stretched from the bridge of the New Turtle Hermit to the Star Topology's main node at the Mount Paozu dojo, its frequency perfectly synchronized with the footsteps of the fourth-generation disciples running laps around the island during morning training. He closed his eyes and sank back into the depths of the void.

Moonlight spilled over the orange flag embroidered with the character for "Turtle" at the dojo on Mount Paozu. Seafood porridge bubbled on the stove, sending up clouds of steam, while Puar snored beside it with his tail curled into a circle. A new line of small characters had been carved into the dojo's lintel, engraved stroke by stroke by Talos's granddaughter using the qi at her fingertips: "The Turtle Hermit School is not one person's school. It is a home for many." Beneath those words, the fourth-generation disciples had carved the same sentence in the scripts of their respective civilizations—Namekian, ancient Saiyan script, Universe 4 energy script, and Earth's common language. Every script pointed to the same meaning: unceasing life, a journey unfinished.