A New Routine

On the first morning after returning from the Ancient Trial Grounds, Ji Ming woke to the aroma of steamed buns.

They were filled with pork and Chinese cabbage. Chi-Chi had gotten up before dawn to knead the dough, slamming it against the board with loud smacks. Her hands were covered in flour, her apron cinched tight, while white steam billowed through the kitchen and several tiers of steamers stood stacked on the stove. Ji Ming knew those sounds all too well—whenever he heard them as a child, he knew the food for the next few days would be especially good. He turned over and heard Son Goku and Vegeta talking in the yard.

"...The data fluctuations your Silver Blue produced in the Gravity Chamber yesterday were much smaller than before." That was Son Goku's voice.

"Obviously. Before, I was forcing it outward by brute force. Now it runs close to the bone. How could they be the same?" Vegeta's voice was hoarse but full of vigor. It seemed he had rested fairly well since returning from the trial grounds.

"I think you can compress it even further. Compress it until even Bulma's detectors can't pick it up. That's when it'll be right."

"Easy for you to say. Have you compressed your own Ultra Instinct to zero?"

"More or less." Son Goku sounded utterly sincere. He was not showing off; he was genuinely just answering the question.

Ji Ming got dressed and pushed open the door, finding the two men sitting cross-legged atop a massive boulder in the yard. Vegeta's Silver Blue aura flowed quietly against the surface of his skin, while Son Goku, in his base form, tilted his head as he studied the fluctuations in Vegeta's ki. When he saw Ji Ming come out, Vegeta gave him a nod. "I heard Bulma has new information. We'll go together later."

"Eat first." Chi-Chi poked her head out of the kitchen, pointing her spatula at the three Saiyans in the yard. "Anyone who hasn't washed their hands gets no food."

Breakfast on Mount Paozu was especially lavish today. Besides steamed buns, Chi-Chi had made thick rolled omelets, cold spinach salad, reheated last night's braised pork, and a huge pot of miso soup. Ji Ming sat in his usual seat, his bowl piled full of food. He used his chopsticks to move aside the top layer of stir-fried pork slices, and sure enough, a tempura shrimp was buried at the bottom. This habit had continued since he was four and a half. The surprise had changed many times—fried shrimp, ribs, soft-boiled eggs—but it had never been absent. He picked up the shrimp and took a bite. The batter was crisp, the shrimp sweet and fresh, exactly the same as he remembered from years ago.

After breakfast, the three of them met Bulma at Kami's Lookout. Her projection sat beside one of the stone pillars, holding a cup of coffee. Her eyes were still bloodshot, but she looked full of energy. "I sent Zeno the final trial analysis report. The Grand Priest's reply was more or less what Whis said before—the revival work for Universe 4 has already begun, and the multiverse reconstruction plan will officially begin within a month. Also, Zeno said he watched the Tournament of Power recordings over and over, and thought, 'Everyone fought really fiercely, but the way they ate hot pot afterward was especially nice to watch.'"

Ji Ming could not help smiling. At the celebration feast after the Tournament of Power, Chi-Chi and Bulma had shipped more than a dozen hot pots over from Earth. Warriors from all twelve universes had crammed into the plaza at Kami's Lookout to cook meat and vegetables, and even Jiren had, for once in his life, eaten a bowl of fatty beef dipped in sesame sauce. Back then, Zeno had taken one bite of the tripe Chi-Chi cooked, remained silent for a long time, then solemnly declared it the best thing he had eaten in all his years of life. Beerus had argued with him for quite a while over that, so Zeno had solemnly declared that the two of them could both come to Mount Paozu for free meals from then on. Thinking back on it, Ji Ming felt that the final outcome of the first Multiverse Martial Arts Tournament had actually been decided by the second bite of hot pot.

"Thanks to the goodwill of Their Excellencies, preparations for the next martial arts tournament are already underway." Bulma pushed up her glasses, her tone caught between helplessness and amusement. "But this time, it won't be an elimination format. Zeno said, 'If I erase too many universes, there'll be no one left to play with me.' So it's been changed into a cultural exchange tournament. The universes can spar freely, but no one's life will be at stake. On top of that, Zeno insisted that there must be an award for 'Best Food in the Universe.' Lord Beerus has already volunteered himself as a judge. After Lord Champa heard about it, he insisted on being a judge too. The two Gods of Destruction are arguing on Zeno's Planet right now."

"So this tournament is called the Strength and Cultural Co-Prosperity Tournament, or the Co-Prosperity Tournament for short." Bulma swiped a finger and brought up a schedule. "It lasts three days: martial arts matches on the first day, a cultural exchange exhibition on the second, and a closing banquet with food awards on the third. There's no limit to the size of each universe's delegation, but the number of competing fighters still has to be kept below ten, following the original Tournament of Power scale. Zeno said all universes were welcome to participate enthusiastically: 'No universes will be erased, but the last-place universe has to clean Zeno's Planet for a hundred years.'"

Ji Ming silently gave Zeno high marks for that idea. It preserved the pressure of competition while avoiding the terror of life and death. Perhaps only an existence who had lived for countless billions of years could strike that balance so precisely. He remembered the scenes at the end of the Tournament of Power, when the erased universes turned to ash. Although Universe 4 had now begun to be revived, that absolute void still made people shudder afterward. Zeno had probably realized it too: a universe without opponents was boring, but a multiverse that had wiped out all its opponents was even more boring.

"Lord Champa suggested adding an eating contest. Whis smiled and said it could be considered, but there had to be a weight limit." Bulma continued reading the notes. "Lord Giin, the God of Destruction of Universe 12, suggested adding an award for 'Best Peace Initiative in the Universe,' but Lord Beerus mocked it for being too boring."

"If your mom enters the food awards, that Champa from Universe 6 will definitely come running to Mount Paozu every day." Vegeta stood leaning against a stone pillar at Kami's Lookout with his arms folded. His voice was cold, but Ji Ming could hear him holding back a laugh. Vegeta probably realized it himself after speaking and added, "By then, he'll crowd the Gravity Chamber until it collapses."

"The Gravity Chamber was expanded ages ago. Did you forget?" Bulma raised a brow. "The last time you practiced Zero Style, you blasted that wall apart, so I took the chance to partition off another room." She switched to another page of the schedule. "Oh, and Whis said there are no restrictions on transformation forms for this Co-Prosperity Tournament, but all destruction-energy attacks must be kept below a designated consumption range. Each arena will have its own universe's angels personally maintain a limiting barrier. Just bring out your best. You won't need to worry about the venue's safety."

"They should make another rule." Piccolo walked over from afar, his antennae still wet with morning dew from the rocky forest behind the mountain. "No sneaking food from the judges' table during breaks. Last time, Majin Buu ate all of Lord Beerus's pudding, and the God of Destruction nearly started a fight with him. Dende said he would never mediate another argument again."

Ji Ming chuckled and turned his gaze toward Krillin's family, who were flying toward Kami's Lookout below the stone steps. Marron waved dramatically at him from the Flying Nimbus, while Android 18 followed behind carrying a thermos filled with the tomato beef stew she had spent all afternoon making yesterday. Krillin rubbed his bald head and said it was to "replenish the mental energy he'd completely used up in the trial grounds," but everyone knew the real reason. During the trial, Krillin had told his trial counterpart that what he wanted most after every battle was to go home and eat a meal made by Android 18. So, for more than a month after he returned, Android 18 had made him food almost every day.

Ji Ming recalled that during the first trial, he had said something similar to his own trial counterpart—what he wanted most was not to dominate the multiverse, but to come home after a battle and see all these people waiting for him. Now he sat here beneath the golden light of Kami's Lookout, surrounded by his companions' bickering and laughter, with the extra scoop of braised pork Chi-Chi would always put in his bowl. The wind blowing up from Mount Paozu carried the scent of pine needles and freshly turned soil.

Whether it was the Co-Prosperity Tournament, a martial arts tournament, disputes between Gods of Destruction over judging, or Zeno's sudden whims, they would all arrive and pass, just like every battle before. And beyond New Vegeta, Kami's Lookout, and the starting point of every Saiyan bloodline's resonance, on Mount Paozu, Chi-Chi had just placed the second batch of crab roe soup dumplings into the steamer. She checked the newly added tasting list item by item against the judges' comments Beerus had sent to her wristband. Beside her, Trunks quietly leaned over and held out his little hand. Smiling, she slapped it away, then slipped a freshly steamed custard bun into his palm and told him not to let Vegeta know.

The wind blew softly across Mount Paozu, and steam from the bamboo baskets dissolved into wisps of white mist in the autumn afternoon. He lowered his gaze to the tempura shrimp at the bottom of his bowl and reached for it with his chopsticks.