Mount Paozu, inside the Gravity Chamber beside the training field.
An hour later.
Gohan stood once more in the center of the training field, his aura beginning to climb. Golden flames surged around him, dyeing the entire space a scorching gold.
Vegeta was already waiting inside, leaning against the wall, his expression cold.
"Rested enough?" His voice sounded like it had been dredged out of an ice cellar.
"Enough." Gohan rolled his shoulders.
"Then start."
Gohan took a deep breath and charged at Vegeta.
The wind from his fists howled.
Three hundred and eighty million in power poured out, every punch carrying all his resolve. But Vegeta was like a slippery fish, always slipping through the gaps between his fists at the last instant, then striking back with a lethal blow.
"Too deliberate." Vegeta snapped an elbow back, smashing it into Gohan's shoulder. "You're thinking about how to throw that punch."
"I'm not—"
"You are." Vegeta threw another punch, landing it squarely in his abdomen. "Thinking about how to 'not think.' That itself is thinking."
Gohan was knocked back and gritted his teeth, steadying himself.
Gohan ranted wildly in his head: What is this? As long as you're still thinking about whether you're thinking, you'll never be able to stop thinking?
This logic is just a dead loop. What, do I have to go get a PhD in philosophy before I can break through to Super Saiyan 2?
"Again." Gohan rushed in once more.
This time, he didn't let himself think about anything. He didn't think about control, didn't think about letting go, didn't think about breaking through, didn't think about that damned smile. He thought about nothing.
Only his fists.
The golden aura swelled violently.
390 million—400 million.
"Yes! That's it!" Vegeta's eyes lit up, a rare trace of