The Return Voyage

Outside the spaceship's portholes, the river of stars flowed on.

There were still six days of travel left to Earth. Bulma switched the controls to autopilot, and the cockpit finally quieted down, with only the soft pulse of the navigation system sounding every few seconds.

Ji Ming leaned against the cabin wall, several loops of bandages wrapped around his body—the Senzu Beans had been divided up during the evacuation from Namek, with the last few given to the badly injured Nappa and Nail. His own injuries were no minor matter: a fracture in his left arm, strained ligaments in his right leg, and more than a dozen scrapes and burns of varying severity. Saiyan recovery was already taking effect, but without Senzu Beans, it would still take another day or two to heal completely.

He had his eyes closed, but he was not asleep. Every detail of the final battle on Namek kept replaying in his mind. Frieza's explosive attacks, Vegeta's awakening, his own third breakthrough—and the sight of that planet silently exploding into a sphere of light behind them. Namek was gone. The Dragon Balls were gone. Frieza was locked in the cargo hold. Too many things in this conflict had diverged from the original story; the timelines of the Android and Cell arcs were bound to shift drastically as well.

"What are you thinking about?"

Ji Ming opened his eyes. Guru sat across from him in a specially made seat—Bulma had hastily modified it with cushioning material from the Gravity Chamber, barely making it large enough to hold the Namekian giant. Nail, Dende, and Piccolo sat around him. Dende had already fallen asleep, his little head resting against Piccolo's arm, his antennae trembling faintly with each breath.

"I'm thinking about what comes next," Ji Ming said.

Guru nodded slowly. His complexion was grayer than it had been on Namek, and his breathing had become shallower and slower, yet an ancient light still rested in those nearly closed eyes. "I do not have much time left, child. Namekians live long lives, but my strength had already begun to fade before Namek exploded. Porunga's power hastened that depletion as well."

Nail abruptly raised his head. "Guru—"

"There is no need to comfort me." Guru raised one hand, his movements slow but still steady. "Every Namekian elder passes his knowledge to the next generation when his life nears its end. I have already chosen my successor." He looked toward the sleeping Dende, and his gaze softened. "Dende. He is still young, but the strength he showed in battle has already surpassed that of most adults among our people. He will become the new Guru of the Namekians."

Piccolo remained silent. He remembered what he had been like when he first set foot on the Lookout—so proud, so furious, consumed by the desire to avenge his father. Yet now he sat here, with the lingering scent of Namekian soil still clinging to his arm. Beside him sat a kinsman about to entrust the future to another, and a softly snoring child. There was not a trace of hatred left in his chest.

"Let him take it," Piccolo said quietly. "The Lookout on Earth happens to be in need of a god."

After a brief pause, he suddenly turned to Ji Ming. "Kid, Dende is still too young. While he grows up, I'll act as Earth's god in his place."

Ji Ming froze for a moment. He knew that, in the original story, Piccolo would eventually reunite with Kami and become a Super Namekian. But Piccolo's strength had already far surpassed that of his original counterpart at this point. Having broken through the limits of power, the role of god was no longer a responsibility he needed fusion to assume. He no longer had to merge with Kami. He could become a god himself.

"With you as Earth's god," Ji Ming said with a smile, "no one will dare cause trouble from now on."

"Quit kissing up." Piccolo turned his head away, the tips of his ears faintly green.

Ji Ming stood and walked to the porthole. The galaxy drifted quietly outside, the light of countless stars stretched into long silver threads as they slowly receded along the spaceship's faster-than-light path.

He touched the cloth pouch against his chest. Aside from a fragment of Guru's wooden staff, it now held a ring—Nail had slipped it into his hand as they boarded, just before Namek exploded into a sphere of light. The ring had been forged from eternal ore deep within Namek's crust. Its face was dark green, engraved with the Namekian word for "Guardian." Nail had said nothing, only nodded once. Ji Ming wore it on his finger. It was a little too large, but as long as he kept his hand clenched, it would not slip off.

As he stared blankly out the window, Vegeta's voice came from behind him.

"Kid, that thing in the cargo hold hasn't stopped making noise." Vegeta leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, his expression none too pleasant. His Super Saiyan form had already faded, but a faint golden afterglow still lingered around him—this would probably last all the way to Earth. How to completely suppress it afterward was something he would have to figure out himself.

"What's he making noise about?"

"He says he wants to see you."

The cargo hold had been temporarily converted into a detention room. Frieza was locked into a specially made metal chair, his limbs and tail restrained by high-density energy shackles. A collar that restricted energy surges had also been fitted around his neck. Bulma had prepared the equipment before they landed on Namek, and her exact words had been, "If you really do capture Frieza alive, you can't exactly tie him up with rope."

Frieza looked utterly miserable. His final form had completely faded, leaving him back in his battered first form. His purple armor-like shell was covered in cracks, dried blood mingling with scorch marks. He looked like a porcelain statue that had been smashed apart and barely glued back together. Yet his eyes remained sharp. The instant he saw Ji Ming enter, the corner of his mouth even managed to curl upward.

"Little friend, you're here." His voice still carried that shrill, gentle tone.

Ji Ming stopped in front of him without saying a word. Vegeta leaned against the inside of the doorway, violet flames flickering over his fist as he remained ready to strike at any moment.

"Don't be nervous. I only want to ask one thing." Frieza tilted his head, his eyes still piercing in the dim light. "My Namek-ending blast was powerful enough to reach the planet's core—I poured all my energy into the heart of that world. How many times did you nearly get beaten to death trying to stop me?"

"Many times," Ji Ming answered calmly.

"You know one reason Saiyans are so difficult to kill is that they grow stronger after recovering from near death. You took several of my heaviest attacks alone and gained breakthroughs through our clashes. Did you deliberately use my brutality—turn me into a punching bag, a catalyst, forcing yourself to break open new limits again and again?"

"Yes."

Frieza fell silent for several seconds, then laughed. It was unlike his previous hysterical laughter. It was a laugh that carried an indescribable taste—like a chess player who had finally understood his opponent's moves, mixed with irritation and a warped kind of admiration.

"I should have killed you the moment we first met on Namek. Your base power was already four hundred thousand back then, yet I was still playing around—but no matter how much you plan ahead, you will discover that this universe is vast. Defeating me is merely the easiest battle you Earthlings will ever have."

Ji Ming looked into his eyes. Frieza did not sound threatening when he said it. It was more like he was stating a fact.

"I know."

Their gazes met beneath the dim lights for several seconds.

Ji Ming turned and walked out of the cargo hold. Vegeta followed behind him and shut the door.

"What did he mean by 'something more troublesome'?"

"The ancestors of Frieza's race once dealt with Beerus, and they also came into contact with even older powers. Once your father and all the survivors of your people have been brought back, we'll sort through the intelligence in the database concerning relics of the ancient era in detail—Frieza may have lost, but there are still things we can dig out of him." Ji Ming rubbed his brow. "But he was telling the truth. Every enemy after Frieza will be harder to deal with than him."

Vegeta was quiet for a moment, then snorted. "Good. I don't want to fight my whole life only to find out that you already took down the strongest opponent."

The next five days of travel were remarkably peaceful. The first thing Ji Ming did after recovering from his injuries was drag everyone into the Gravity Chamber for sparring sessions in groups. Vegeta had only just awakened as a Super Saiyan, and his fighting spirit was at an all-time high. On the first day, he kicked open the door and demanded a one-on-one match. Ji Ming did not refuse, only adding before they started, "This time, the focus is precise ki control in Super Saiyan form, not who hits the floor first." The two golden figures fought under sixty times gravity for nearly an hour, only stopping when Bulma rushed in and pulled the power switch. From then on, Nappa stood nearby with a tactical board, taking notes during every sparring match.

Son Goku's training also continued. His cultivation on King Kai's Planet was already more than halfway complete. After pushing Kaio-ken to twenty times, his base power had also been steadily rising. The resonance released when the two Super Saiyans crossed above Namek had already pushed open half of his door. "Give me a few more days," he said over the communicator, his voice carrying that anticipation only Saiyans could understand.

Under Guru's guidance during his final days, Piccolo, Nail, and Tien Shinhan completed a three-man training session. Knowledge transfer between Namekians required no words, only touching antennae. Over the next few days, Piccolo learned an ancient Namekian sealing technique, Nail grasped the compression principles behind the Special Beam Cannon, and Tien Shinhan optimized the energy consumption issue of the Neo Tri-Beam by an entire level.

Chiaotzu did not take part in the sparring. He silently washed everyone's bowls and chopsticks until they were spotless.

On the sixth day, Guru called Ji Ming to his cabin.

"Just as we discussed. There is no need to rush the restoration of the Saiyan nation. First, bring every revived Saiyan to Earth and set aside an autonomous district for them west of North City. Bulma will handle the early infrastructure, while Vegeta and his father will go over first and stabilize the situation."

Ji Ming knew Guru was not saying these things merely to assign tasks. He was gathering and sorting through all the unspoken words from their journey.

"You should take care of yourself as well. I've already forwarded the warning about the Android arc on Earth to Bulma's research center. As long as they have enough time, Dr. Gero's underground base can be located in advance." Ji Ming's tone remained calm, though it sank slightly at the end.

"Child." Guru slowly extended his palm and once again rested it atop Ji Ming's head. This time, there was no unlocking of potential—only a warm, heavy touch of farewell. "Your soul has long since blossomed anew in this world. You are no longer the overlap of two identities, but a brand-new Son Gohan—the memories of Ji Ming, Chi-Chi's child, the core of a Saiyan. Do not struggle any longer over who you are."

Ji Ming lowered his head. The corners of his eyes stung, and his throat felt as if something had lodged within it.

"Go. Tell them to prepare for landing."

The spaceship was scheduled to arrive on Earth on the morning of the seventh day of its return journey.

Bulma's voice came over the cabin broadcast, carrying a hint of barely contained excitement. "Attention, passengers. We have entered the solar system and are expected to land in forty minutes. Landing site—West City, Capsule Corp headquarters. I repeat, West City, Capsule Corp headquarters."

Outside the portholes, the starlight condensed from stretched silver streaks back into distinct points of light. A blue-and-white planet appeared directly ahead. Earth. Clouds cast mottled shadows across the blue ocean, while a corner of West City's coastline peeked through the gaps. The familiar outline of the city glowed warm gold in the morning light.

Ji Ming stood before the porthole, watching the planet grow larger and larger, when an indescribable feeling suddenly welled up inside him. Five months ago, when he had left this place, he had been a four-year-old child with a normal battle power of only a few thousand. Now, he had returned with battle power hundreds of times greater, a group of comrades who had crossed the stars at his side, and the future of a civilization resurrected from death in his hands.

But none of that could compare to the instant the hatch opened.

The spaceship entered the atmosphere, its entire hull enveloped in orange-red flames from the friction. The cabin temperature rose slightly. Bulma's movements at the controls were crisp and precise. As she slowed the ship, she turned back and shouted, "Everyone, stay seated and don't move around—Vegeta, don't do push-ups while we're landing!"

Vegeta poked his head out from the Gravity Chamber doorway, then climbed back into his seat with an impatient expression, still muttering bullshit about how "sixty times isn't even enough for a warm-up."

The spaceship passed through the clouds, and West City's cluster of skyscrapers rushed into view through the portholes. The landing pad at Capsule Corp headquarters was already packed with people. Master Roshi stood with his cane, his sunglasses reflecting the morning sunlight. Oolong and Puar held a basket of freshly picked strawberries, nearly getting trampled by the crowd pressing in behind them. Korin sat atop the Flying Nimbus, lowering his head to lick his paws.

Chi-Chi stood at the very front of the landing pad. She wore that slightly faded blue apron, and the morning breeze had tousled her hair. Compared to before Ji Ming had left, her expression had grown much heavier—not because she had aged, but because of the quiet that came after enduring a long period of fear and worry.

The hatch opened, and golden light spilled through the clouds across the surface of the spaceship as the boarding ramp slowly lowered.

Ji Ming was the first to step off the ship. The instant his feet touched the concrete of the landing pad, Chi-Chi rushed forward, dropped to her knees, and pulled him into her arms. She said nothing. She only held him tightly, her entire body trembling. Ji Ming did not struggle or say, "Mom, I'm fine." He merely raised a hand and, following the habit of the mother in his memories, gently patted Chi-Chi's back twice.

"Mom. I'm back."

Chi-Chi burst into tears.

Master Roshi removed his sunglasses and wiped at the corners of his eyes before quickly putting them back on. Oolong offered him a strawberry, and Master Roshi rapped him on the head with his cane before taking it and stuffing it into his mouth, chewing very slowly.

Vegeta stood at the top of the ramp, hesitating for quite a while before finally stepping down. Bulma leaned against the hatch with her arms folded, watching his back with the faintest curve at the corner of her lips.

Bulma's father, Dr. Brief, shoved his way out of the crowd, brandishing a wrench as he loudly demanded, "Where's the Gravity Chamber?" Bulma grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him back.

Son Goku was the last to leave the spaceship. He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the sun, as if confirming that this really was Earth's sunlight. Then he saw Chi-Chi, scratched his head, and chuckled twice.

"I'm back."

Chi-Chi released Son Gohan, rose to her feet, and looked at Son Goku. Her eyes were still red, but her expression had already shifted from excitement into the ferocious mode of someone guarding her food. She strode up to Goku and poked him in the chest with one finger. "You don't get dinner tonight."

"Huh? Why not?" Son Goku's face fell in grievance.

"Why? Because you almost left our son on Namek! Because he came back so much thinner! Look at him, just look—" Chi-Chi turned to point at Son Gohan again, only to discover that he was no longer standing there.

Ji Ming had quietly slipped away to the edge of the landing pad before Chi-Chi could notice him. He was giving Oolong an instruction—use a portable transfer printer to engrave a mechanical blueprint he had drawn, then deliver it to Bulma at Capsule Corp. "The immigrants on Planet Vegeta will need it," he said, folding the blueprint into a neat square. "Make twenty sets first."

Oolong looked at the densely packed annotations on the blueprint and swallowed. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Ji Ming thought for a moment. "Tell jokes about Namek."

Oolong rolled his eyes and ran off clutching the blueprint.

The morning wind swept across the landing pad, stirring the tender new shoots growing in the grass. Namek could not be returned to. The Saiyans had not all gone home yet. Frieza was locked in the lowest confinement cell. And Earth's enemies were approaching step by step from a distant laboratory.

But at least today, sunlight shone upon the landing pad in West City. Everyone was here. Not a single one was missing.

Ji Ming looked up at the rising sun and closed his eyes. A new battle began today.