A Brief Respite

The spaceship landed on the pad at Capsule Corp's headquarters in West City. The moment the hatch opened, Chi-Chi charged through the crowd and yanked Ji Ming off the gangway into her arms. She held him so tightly, as if she wanted to squeeze all the fear and worry of the past few months into that embrace. Ji Ming felt her shoulders trembling. He wanted to say something to reassure her, but in the end, he only raised a hand and gently patted her back.

"Mom, I'm back."

Chi-Chi released him and cupped his face in both hands, looking him over from side to side as tears pattered down. She kept muttering, "You've gotten thinner," "You're darker," and "You definitely haven't been eating properly again." After inspecting Son Gohan, she looked up to see Son Goku scratching his head as he came down the gangway, grinning foolishly as he said, "I'm back." Chi-Chi's expression instantly shifted from heartache to fury. She rushed over and punched him on the head. "You took my son to a place like that! He nearly didn't make it back! No dinner for you tonight!"

"It wasn't me who took him there..." Son Goku covered his head, his voice growing softer and softer.

Taking advantage of Chi-Chi redirecting her firepower, Ji Ming quietly retreated to the edge of the crowd. Oolong was using a transfer printer to copy the mechanical blueprints Ji Ming had drawn earlier, muttering, "Is there anything you can't do?" Ji Ming thought about it and said he couldn't tell jokes from Namek. Oolong rolled his eyes and ran off with the blueprints in his arms.

Vegeta stood at the gangway, his gaze sweeping over the crowded landing pad as though searching for someone. When he failed to find them, he headed alone toward the Gravity Chamber with a blank expression. Bulma leaned against the hatch, watching his retreating back. With her arms folded, she quietly muttered, "Idiot." Then she leaned halfway out of the cockpit and shouted to Ji Ming, "My dad's already gone to inspect the Gravity Chamber. It'll be usable tomorrow."

Ji Ming nodded and turned toward Guru, who was slowly making his way down the gangway. Nail supported Guru's arm, and every step was slow. Guru's enormous body cast a long shadow beneath the setting sun. His nearly closed eyes swept across West City's skyline and lingered there for a long time.

"So this is Earth." Guru's voice was hoarse and slow. "It's very beautiful. There's so much water—far more than on Namek."

Master Roshi pushed his way out of the crowd with his cane, looked up at the green giant three times his height, and adjusted his sunglasses. His tone was unusually serious. "The Elder of Namek. I've heard much about you. Earth may be small, but we've got plenty of good food and good liquor."

Guru looked down at the small elderly Earthling, and a faint smile slowly appeared on his lips. "Thank you for taking care of my children. Piccolo is Namek's proudest warrior, and also its most stubborn. And Nail... Dende is in your care now."

Piccolo stood some distance away. At the mention of his name, his antennae twitched slightly. He did not turn around, only angled his face to the side and replied calmly, "No need to entrust him to anyone. I'll watch over him myself." His gaze swept over Dende, who was clutching Ji Ming's clothes and curiously looking around at everything.

Guru closed his eyes and took a deep breath of Earth's air. His breathing was slower than it had been on Namek, every inhale seeming to be dragged up laboriously from somewhere deep inside. Nail's antennae trembled gently at the change in Guru's aura, and his expression gradually grew grave.

"I'm going to rest."

When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell on Ji Ming.

"Child, come with me for a moment."

Ji Ming followed Guru into a temporary rest room arranged by Capsule Corp. The room was not large. Bulma had specifically raised the ceiling to four meters and even removed a wall, barely making enough space for Guru to sit upright. Even so, the giant still seemed somewhat cramped inside.

Guru sat on a specially made stone chair and let out a long breath. His aura faintly spread with that sigh, like ripples slowly fading through the air.

"I do not have much time left," he said bluntly, without any preamble. "The lifespan of Namek's Grand Elder is very long, but my aura had already begun to decline before Namek exploded. Porunga's power accelerated that depletion. As for exactly how much time I have left, it is no more than a day or two."

Ji Ming stood before Guru without speaking. For a warrior, silence was the highest form of respect in the face of death.

"Do not be sad." Guru raised a hand slightly. His massive palm hovered in the air without descending, merely remaining there. "Every Grand Elder passes down his knowledge to the next generation when his lifespan nears its end. I have already chosen my successor—Dende. He is still young, but he possesses the most precious thing a Namekian can have in his heart. In the future, he will stand alongside Piccolo as one of the new pillars of the Namekian people."

Ji Ming nodded. "Uncle Piccolo will take good care of him."

"I know." A faint smile touched Guru's lips. "Piccolo is the proudest Namekian warrior I have ever seen, and the gentlest at heart."

The two fell silent for a while. Outside the window, the sunset slowly sank behind West City's high-rises. Orange-red light streamed through the blinds onto Guru's aged green skin, turning his deep wrinkles into dark golden marks.

"Guru." Ji Ming broke the silence. "Can you still use your power-unlocking method one last time?"

Guru tilted his head slightly, and a glint flashed through his narrowed eyes. "You want me to unlock your potential again?"

"No. My father—Son Goku. He hasn't reached the limit he could have in the battle on Namek. The Androids will arrive soon, and there will be more threats after that. Someone needs to give the upper limit of his base strength a push from the outside."

Guru remained silent for a long time. Then he slowly nodded.

"Bring him to me."

Son Goku was still rubbing the bump on his head when he entered the rest room. Chi-Chi had probably put thirty percent of her strength into that punch. It did not hurt with his current physique, but he genuinely felt wronged. When he saw Guru, he froze for a moment, then casually sat cross-legged on the floor and looked up at the green giant.

"Old man, you wanted to see me?"

Guru said nothing. He merely slowly extended his palm and placed it over Son Goku's head. In that instant, Son Goku's body tensed sharply. A vast, warm power poured in through the crown of his head, sweeping through every bone, every muscle fiber, and deep down to the cellular level. That power destroyed nothing. It simply peeled back, layer by layer, the dormant potential buried deep within him—the potential that had been overlooked, never awakened by battle.

The process lasted a long time, far longer than when Vegeta's potential had been unlocked. When it ended, a fine sheen of sweat covered Son Goku's forehead. He exhaled a breath of turbid air, lowered his head to look at his hands, and carefully sensed the changes for a moment. Then he looked up at Guru, his eyes clear and frank.

"Thank you."

Guru withdrew his hand. His breathing became even slower, but a smile still remained on his face. "Saiyans truly are an incredible race. I have nothing more to give. From here on, you must rely on yourselves."

After saying that, he closed his eyes and leaned back in the stone chair, his breathing gradually steadying.

Ji Ming and Son Goku quietly left the room.

The next day.

That afternoon, Ji Ming visited Frieza's holding room. Their conversation lasted a long time. When he came out, his expression was not much different from when he had entered. As he passed the Gravity Chamber, he only said one thing to Vegeta. "Frieza left some information in the warship database. Have Bulma sort it out when she has time."

Then he walked to the edge of the Lookout and stood before the stone railing for a long time. Since returning from Namek, he had rarely stopped like this to stare into space. But today, he needed time to process something—not the intelligence Frieza had given him, but the string of coordinates and names faintly emerging behind it.

"The Saiyans' true homeworld, Planet Sadala. Have you ever heard of it?"

Son Goku held a blade of grass between his lips and shook his head vaguely.

"The planet that was destroyed was a colony, not their homeworld."

Thus, preparations to search for Planet Sadala quietly began on the third day after their return from Namek. Ji Ming did not alert too many people. He merely compiled the fragments of intelligence learned from Frieza along with the stellar-region data that could be reconstructed from the Frost Demon Clan archives, then handed them to Dr. Brief and Bulma. Bulma received the files with dark circles beneath her eyes, muttering nonstop while her fingers were already flying across the keyboard.

That evening, Chi-Chi made another trip to West City. She brought freshly harvested vegetables from Mount Paozu to Mrs. Brief, then pulled Ji Ming into a corner and examined his face. Only after confirming that he had no new injuries did she relax slightly. She was gradually getting used to her son walking a path she could not fully understand, but every time she watched him leave home, she still clenched her apron as tightly as she had the first time.

At dawn seven days later.

Guru passed away. Quietly. Dende knelt in front of Guru's stone chair, his small antennae pressed tightly against the old man's cold fingers as he cried softly. Piccolo and several Namekian warriors stood silently nearby. No one spoke. Ji Ming stood in the corner of the room, looking down at the dark green ring on his hand—Nail had shoved it into his hand when they boarded the ship on Namek. The face of the ring bore a Namekian inscription: "Protection." He turned the ring once and clenched his fist.

Only after all the Namekians had paid their respects did Son Goku slowly walk up behind Ji Ming. For once, he was not grinning foolishly or scratching his head. He merely placed a hand on his son's shoulder.

"You're leaving again?"

"Yeah. There's been a breakthrough in the information on Planet Sadala. I need to go."

"Is it dangerous?"

"I don't know."

Son Goku fell silent for a moment, then grinned. "Then go. I've got things here."

Ji Ming didn't turn around. He was afraid that if he did, he would see Son Goku's foolish grin—the kind that looked like it could bear anything—and all the indescribable feelings in his heart would come surging out. He merely raised his fist and extended it behind him. Son Goku raised his own fist and lightly bumped it against his.

A week later, Bulma's star chart analysis finally produced results. With dark circles beneath her eyes, she pushed open the laboratory door and handed Ji Ming a file covered in annotations. The coordinates were incomplete, the signals fragmented, and the plan required several layered jumps. The destination was so distant that most detectors could not maintain a stable lock on it.

Bulma leaned against the doorframe and took a gulp of cold coffee. "My dad opened up all the core observatory data for you. Even if you can't find Sadora this time, you'll be able to map out that entire stretch of unknown space."

"That's enough."

On the morning of his departure, Mount Paozu's landing pad was packed with people. As usual, Chi-Chi stuffed a new cloth bag into Ji Ming's hands. This time, besides Senzu Beans and bandages, it also contained a family photo—one she had dug out from her bedside drawer last night, its creases worn fuzzy at the edges.

"Mom, this might take a while. Maybe a month or two. Maybe longer."

Chi-Chi was silent for a while. She reached out, plucked a loose thread from his collar, then took a step back. Her voice trembled, but remained clear. "However long it takes, just come back."

Vegeta stood nearby. Rarely, he wasn't wearing that cold expression that said, "What does this have to do with me?" He waited until Chi-Chi had finished before speaking. "When Frieza mentioned Sadora, there was something off about his eyes. He wasn't pretending. If you find something there that can help someone break through their limits—bring some back." He raised his fist. Ji Ming raised his as well, tapping Vegeta's shoulder with his knuckles.

Bulma leaned against the hatch and shoved a freshly printed encrypted communications protocol, still faintly warm, into his hand. "Go early, come back early. I didn't build this ship for you to use as an interstellar climbing tool."

The hatch closed. Blue-white flames burst from the spacecraft's engines as it left Mount Paozu, left Earth, and headed into deep space once again. This journey would be long—far longer than the trip to Namek. Ji Ming sat in the pilot's seat, watching Earth shrink bit by bit beyond the viewport until it became a blue-and-white marble and vanished into the sea of stars.

He lowered his head and opened the folder Bulma had given him. Amid the densely packed star chart analysis records was a note. Chi-Chi had slipped it inside, her handwriting crooked, as though her hand had been trembling when she wrote it—"Eat your meals on time."

Ji Ming folded the note and placed it in his breast pocket, then activated the navigation system and entered the coordinates for the first jump.

Ahead lay an unknown starfield. The Saiyans' true origins, the lost power of ancient times—they were still sleeping somewhere in the depths of the universe, waiting for him to find them. Or perhaps waiting to find him.