Uncle Piccolo, you don't want to be left far behind by my dad, do you?

Across the vast wilderness.

Four-year-old Son Gohan had already begun fighting back against the dinosaur.

Though he was only four years old, the fusion of two lifetimes' souls had awakened his battle power.

His battle power was now around seven hundred, placing him among Earth's very best.

Dealing with a dinosaur was naturally no difficult task.

But the dinosaur did not know that. Seeing a small child approach, it thought someone was coming to slide-kick it, and charged forward with fangs and claws bared.

Who could have known that the other party would merely swing a walnut-sized fist, unleashing an enormous burst of power?

A fierce gale swept out, sending the dinosaur spinning backward before it slammed heavily into the mountainside.

Piccolo had been observing Son Gohan from the sky.

When he saw the boy send the dinosaur flying with a single punch, his expression visibly tightened.

As the origin of Earth's martial arts, he could tell at a glance how much power that punch contained. At the same time, however, he could also see its lack of technique.

"Hmph. Looks like throwing this brat out here had its benefits. He already possesses power no less than mine..."

As he spoke, though, something felt wrong. According to his plan, the boy was merely a useful tool for dealing with the Saiyans.

If the Saiyans were driven away one day, then he would become Piccolo's opponent!

He pondered for a while longer before finally deciding to go down and take a look. At the very least, for now, the boy was an essential force against the Saiyans.

And although he had power, he lacked technique. He should not be able to hurt Piccolo yet.

In the wilderness below.

Son Gohan dragged the stunned dinosaur aside. He tore off its tail, intending to roast and eat it, while planning to let the dinosaur itself go.

This was called scientific development and recycling.

With his current physique, starting a fire by rubbing sticks together was child's play. He promptly set up a rack and began roasting the meat.

Yet he was still considering what would come next.

Since he had arrived in this world, this dangerous world of the Dragon Balls, he needed to start planning early.

After all, while his talent was not bad, the opponents in this world were far too complicated. Some could undergo a complete transformation after only four months of training, while others were born so absurdly powerful that they could defy the heavens without training at all.

Not to mention the countless rule-breaking monsters that came later, such as those colorful little children.

They were all beings capable of wiping out Earth at any moment.

If he wanted to live well in this world, he had to eliminate those dangers—or surpass those beings.

So his dream of becoming a scholar could only be allowed to shatter. It was time to prepare for a proper fight with those beings.

But no matter what, he still had to survive the Saiyans' imminent arrival.

Originally, he could have gone straight to Aunt Bulma, but there was a problem now: he did not know the way, nor did he know techniques like Flight. So he could only wait here for Uncle Piccolo to arrive.

Just as he was getting a headache over it, a white cape unfurled in the sky.

Then Piccolo, green-faced, landed before him.

He maintained his cool arms-crossed pose as he looked at Son Gohan and said, "You little brat... there truly is unfathomable power inside you. Son Goku really was naive. If he had trained you sooner, perhaps he would not have needed to die."

Only when Son Gohan heard Piccolo mention this did he remember that his father had already died.

An inexplicable sadness rose in his heart for a moment.

But in just an instant, that sadness faded, because he understood how this world worked. Death was not really a big deal, since the Dragon Balls could revive people at any time.

After calming himself down, he picked up the roasted dinosaur meat and said, "Uncle Piccolo, want some?"

Seeing Son Gohan invite him so familiarly, Piccolo's face turned even greener. "I'm not a human like you. I don't need to use such things to sustain my life."

"Oh."

Son Gohan answered, then took a bite out of the dinosaur meat. It tasted somewhat like free-range chicken, though the meat was firmer and had a distinctive flavor of its own.

Seeing the changes in Son Gohan, Piccolo's expression actually improved somewhat. "It seems you've become normal during this time. Then it's time to begin your training. But let me say this first: my training is comparable to hell. You'd better prepare yourself."

Son Gohan bit off a large chunk of meat and replied, "I understand. But Uncle Piccolo, if we train like this... I'm afraid it won't be more effective than my father's training!"

Piccolo raised his head and looked toward the sky, sneering. "Who knows what that old god will have him do. But whatever it is, I won't lose to that guy!"

Son Gohan said, "Even so, ordinary training would be hard-pressed to improve experts like you and my father by much, wouldn't it?"

Hearing Son Gohan's words, Piccolo thought for a moment. Clearly, he too realized that Gohan was right.

Having cultivated to his current level, it was extremely difficult to make any major improvements. Even if he trained Gohan now, he did not actually have much confidence in his heart.

Seeing the change in Piccolo's gaze, Son Gohan continued, "I think if we want to keep up with my father's progress, we should probably do weighted training?"

"Weighted training? Hmph, I've been doing that for a long time already!"

As he spoke, he touched his cape. It was something he had enchanted with magic, making it vastly heavier than an ordinary cape—several hundred pounds, in fact.

But as his strength increased, its effect gradually diminished.

Son Gohan looked at the cape on him as well, then reminded him, "Uncle Piccolo, do you have any magic that can increase gravity?"

"Increase gravity?"

"For example, changing Earth's gravity so we can directly endure around ten times the normal gravity. The training results would definitely be excellent that way."

A thoughtful look flickered in Piccolo's eyes. If they could truly train under those conditions—

Without a doubt!

His strength would improve tremendously.

But the problem was that he did not know that kind of magic. The old guardian up there might know it, but ask him for help?

Leaving aside whether the old guardian would agree to his request, there was no way he would go begging him.

Absolutely not!

Thinking of this, he said with a cold expression, "Even without something like that, I can surpass Son Goku. Only I, King Piccolo, can rule this world!"

Seeing his attitude, Son Gohan reminded him, "But if it's something like this, I think Aunt Bulma should be able to do it?"

"Bulma?"

Piccolo considered himself Son Goku's nemesis, so naturally, he knew about Bulma too.

That woman was indeed a genius among humans.

But for the mighty King Piccolo to seek help from a human—no matter what, that was unacceptable.

"Hmph, I already said there's no need to look for something like that..."

Before Piccolo could finish, Son Gohan leaned closer and said, "Uncle Piccolo, you wouldn't want my dad to come back from training and leave you far behind, would you...?"

The moment he heard that, Piccolo's expression changed drastically.