Devil's Training

"Welcome to hell."

Piccolo threw Gohan onto the ground and announced with a blank expression.

Gohan scrambled up from the ground and looked around.

A wilderness. Barren mountains. Withered grass. There wasn't even a shadow of a person in sight.

"Uncle Piccolo, did we get lost?" Gohan asked cautiously.

Piccolo didn't answer, merely pointing toward a large rock not far away.

"From now on, that is where you will train."

"Train what?"

"Everything." Piccolo turned around, his back to Gohan. "Do you know how to use ki?"

Gohan nodded. Of course he did. He had watched the entire Dragon Ball series before transmigrating, and although he hadn't practiced it himself, his theoretical knowledge was quite extensive.

"Then hone your ki sensing to the limit," Piccolo said. "Within a ten-mile radius of this place, I want you to sense the movement of every single ant."

"...Ants?" Gohan was stunned.

"If you're hungry, find your own food; if you're thirsty, find your own water," Piccolo continued, as if he hadn't heard Gohan's question. "I won't give you any help."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Gohan panicked. "You're just going to dump me here alone? What if I run into danger?"

"Then use your ki sensing to dodge it."

"And if I can't dodge it?"

"Then you die." Piccolo's voice was as cold as ice. "If you can't dodge, it just means your training isn't enough."

Gohan: "???"

What kind of devilish training method was this?! He was only four years old! Four! He hadn't even finished losing his baby teeth! Where were the labor laws? The child protection laws? SOS? Someone, anyone, come save him!

But Piccolo didn't give him a chance to protest.

"In one year, the Saiyans will arrive." Piccolo finally turned back, his gaze sharp. "By then, your current power level won't even be enough to serve as a snack for them."

"I am here to teach you how to fight, not to wait on you," he said, enunciating every word. "If you want to survive, figure it out yourself."

With that, Piccolo leaped into the air and vanished into the mountain forest.

Gohan stood rooted to the spot, staring in the direction where Piccolo had disappeared.

It took him a long while to come to his senses.

"...I must have been out of my mind to follow you!!"

Out in the middle of nowhere, a four-year-old child, helpless and alone.

Gohan squatted on the ground and hugged his head.

This script was all wrong! In the original story, Piccolo did take him away to train, but at least there was a house to live in, supplies sent by Bulma, and Krillin there as a fellow student to spar with!

But now? Barren mountains and wild ridges! All alone! Not even a single hair to be found!

He looked up at the sky; the sun was already beginning to set in the west.

Before dark, he had to find food, water, and a place to sleep.

Otherwise, he would be neighbors with dinosaurs tonight.

At this thought, Gohan shivered.

There seemed to be Pterosaurs lurking in this area...

"Let's go, let's go. Just survive tonight first," Gohan climbed up and patted the dirt off his pants.

As he walked, he grumbled frantically in his heart:

How did Piccolo's teaching style look like he was just taking revenge on society? What happened to the "devil's training"? Why did it start with wilderness survival? What did this have to do with special training?

Could this be the legendary "free-range training"?

Or perhaps... Piccolo just wanted to dump him so he could have some peace and quiet?

"Who are you pretending to be so cold for!" Gohan muttered under his breath. "Aren't you the one who mooched food, drink, and lodging at Bulma's place! Don't act all tough with me now!"

Of course, he only dared to say this in his heart.

What if Piccolo was secretly hiding on some tree branch watching him?

Three days later.

Gohan squatted on a large tree, clutching a half-raw, half-burnt fish in his hand.

In the past three days, he had learned how to make fire by drilling wood—though the success rate was only thirty percent; learned to distinguish which wild fruits were edible—though he had upset his stomach twice; and learned to use ki to sense surrounding danger—though he occasionally missed some small carnivores.

Whoosh.

A tail suddenly swept past beneath the tree.

Gohan was so startled he nearly fell out of the tree.

Velociraptors. Three of them.

They paced beneath the tree, nostrils twitching as they sniffed the air, seemingly searching for the scent of prey.

Gohan held his breath, his heart drumming against his ribs.

Stay calm, stay calm, use your ki to sense them...

He closed his eyes and pushed his consciousness outward.

Three dinosaurs, medium-sized, with a combat power roughly equivalent to a tiger on Earth. To him, they were still a lethal threat.

But as long as they couldn't find him, there wouldn't be a problem.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

The Velociraptors seemed to find nothing, and eventually, they wandered off.

Gohan let out a long breath.

"Whew."

Just then, a dark shadow descended from the sky.

"Ah!!"

Gohan gasped, instinctively trying to dodge, but the shadow was too fast; he couldn't react at all.

A large hand snatched him up with precision, then immediately let him go.

"You've improved."

Piccolo's voice came from behind him.

Gohan whipped his head around to see Piccolo standing on another branch, holding a bag in his hand.

"Uncle Piccolo?!" Gohan was both surprised and delighted. "Are you here to pick me up?"

"Just passing through." Piccolo tossed the bag to him with an expressionless face. "Eat."

Gohan hurriedly opened the bag to find some dry rations and water inside.

"Wow! Food!" Gohan's eyes lit up, and he began to wolf it down.

Piccolo stood to the side, watching him eat in silence.

"It's been three days," Piccolo suddenly said. "Your ki sensing has improved."

With his mouth stuffed, Gohan mumbled, "Mm... th-thank you..."

"But it's not enough." Piccolo shifted his tone. "A Saiyan's combat power starts at four or five thousand at the very least. Your sensing ability needs to be able to pinpoint an enemy from ten thousand meters away before it can be useful in battle."

"Ten thousand meters?" Gohan choked. "Isn't that just like a radar?"

"Pretty much." Piccolo nodded. "So, keep practicing."

"Wait!" Gohan quickly grabbed Piccolo's sleeve. "Uncle Piccolo, can you not go? Even if you won't teach me martial arts, at least... at least teach me how to fight using ki?"

Piccolo looked down at him, his gaze complex.

"...What's the rush?"

"Huh?"

"Training requires a step-by-step approach." Piccolo said coolly. "I need to teach you to sense danger first so you can react in battle. In a year, I will naturally teach you real combat techniques."

Having said that, he turned to leave.

"Then... can you come visit me sometimes?" Gohan pressed.

Piccolo didn't answer, though his footsteps faltered for a brief moment.

"...I'll be back here in ten days."

Then, he vanished.

Gohan looked in the direction where Piccolo had disappeared, feeling conflicted.

He could have stayed to train him, but no, he had to act like some cold, aloof master. Coming back in ten days? Ten whole days! He still had to find his own food and water, dodge wild beasts, and fight against the harsh weather all by himself!

But...

Gohan touched the bag of rations in his hand.

Where did these come from?

He looked down and saw some fresh jerky in the bag; it was clearly roasted by Piccolo himself.

And...

Gohan suddenly thought of something.

He had already used his ki to sense everything within a six-mile radius of this area. Aside from wild beasts, there wasn't a single trace of any human.

So how was Piccolo just "passing through"?

He had clearly come here on purpose.

"...Why act so cold?" Gohan muttered under his breath, the corners of his mouth curling upward despite himself.

Typical tough talk, soft heart.

Just as I predicted.

Spring faded into summer.

Gohan had been training in the wilderness for three months.

His ability to sense ki had progressed by leaps and bounds; he could now precisely detect the movements of all living things within a five-kilometer radius. He could even faintly sense the number of insects underground.

"Again!"

Piccolo stood atop a giant boulder, looking down at Gohan.

Gohan took a deep breath, pressed his palms together, and began to gather energy.

"Kame... hame... ha!!"

A blue wave of energy whistled out, striking a rock fifty meters away with pinpoint accuracy.

"Boom!!"

The rock was blasted into smithereens.

"Not bad." Piccolo nodded. "Both your accuracy and power are sufficient."

"Really?" Gohan jumped up in excitement. "Does that mean I can learn even stronger moves?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Piccolo poured a bucket of cold water on his enthusiasm. "The Kamehameha is just the basics. Your combat power has only just broken one thousand; you're still a long way from being able to fight the Saiyans."

"One thousand?" Gohan felt a bit discouraged. "Only one thousand..."

"Don't be greedy." Piccolo said. "Going from over eight hundred to one thousand in three months is already monster-level progress. Continue."

Gohan nodded and reset his stance.

But inside, he was frantically complaining:

Only one thousand in three months? Then with nine months left, how much do I need? Three thousand? Five thousand?

Is this devilish training of Piccolo's actually useful?

"You're distracted." Piccolo said suddenly.

"N-no, I'm not!"

"Enough talk." Piccolo jumped down from the boulder. "Next, I'm going to teach you the real stuff."

"What is it?"

"Flight Technique." Piccolo lifted his feet off the ground and slowly rose into the air. "Control your ki and make yourself fly."

Gohan's eyes lit up. "Flying?"

"Correct." Piccolo turned in mid-air. "The Saiyans can fly. If you can't, you'll only ever be a punching bag."

With that, he accelerated sharply and dove toward Gohan.

"Dodge first, ask questions later!"

Gohan's pupils constricted, and he immediately dodged to the side.

Whoosh.

Piccolo brushed past him, stirring up a gust of wind.

"Not bad, your reaction speed is decent." Piccolo rose back into the air. "Keep dodging!"

And so, Gohan's special training for the Flight Technique finally showed some progress after being chased and beaten by Piccolo for an entire afternoon.

Although he still couldn't fly, he could at least rely on sudden bursts of speed to glide in the air for a few seconds.

"That's it for today." Piccolo landed back on the ground. "Continue tomorrow."

"Uncle Piccolo." Gohan called out to him.

"Hm?"

"Um... thank you." Gohan scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Thank you for being willing to teach me."

Piccolo paused for a moment.

"...Enough talk." He turned his head away. "Same place tomorrow. If you're late, don't bother coming."

Then he flew away.

Gohan watched Piccolo's receding figure and couldn't help but smile.

Tsundere.

Such a total tsundere.

The autumn wind blew by.

Six months had passed.

Gohan stood atop a mountain peak, looking down at the land beneath his feet.

His range of ki perception had expanded to a radius of twenty kilometers. His combat power had also broken through the three-thousand mark.

"BOOM!!"

He thrust both palms forward, firing two ki blasts simultaneously that struck two targets on a distant hilltop with pinpoint accuracy.

"Acceptable." Piccolo stood behind him, his tone finally carrying a hint of satisfaction. "Your accuracy and speed are both up to standard."

"Does that mean I can learn a new move?" Gohan asked expectantly.

"...Yes." Piccolo nodded. "Next, I will teach you the Evil Containment Wave."

"The Evil Containment Wave?!" Gohan's eyes widened.

That was Piccolo's signature move! The ultimate technique capable of sealing any enemy inside a rice cooker! Was he really going to teach it to him?

"Don't get too excited." Piccolo poured cold water on his enthusiasm. "The Evil Containment Wave requires extreme control and mental focus. At your current level, you could seal someone for three seconds at most."

"Three seconds is still impressive!"

"However," Piccolo shifted his tone, "the cost of the Evil Containment Wave is a backlash that seals the user. If your mental focus isn't strong enough, both the user and the enemy will be sealed together."

Gohan: "..."

Wait, why was this setting different from the original story?

In the original, the backlash of the Evil Containment Wave was that the user would die, right? How did it become that the user would get sealed as well?

"Therefore, I will only teach you the principles," Piccolo said. "As for practical application, wait until your combat power exceeds ten thousand."

"Over ten thousand?" Gohan exclaimed. "Doesn't that mean I'll have to train until a year from now?"

"Just about." Piccolo glanced at him. "What, are you afraid?"

"No!" Gohan clenched his fists. "I just... I want to get stronger, faster!"

Piccolo was silent for a moment.

"...You have indeed progressed quickly," he said softly. "Faster than I expected."

Gohan was stunned.

Was this the first time Piccolo had praised him directly?

"But," Piccolo's voice returned to its cold, detached tone, "it is not enough. The Saiyans coming in a year are each far stronger than you. If you want to survive and protect the people you care about, you must be stronger."

"I understand." Gohan nodded earnestly.

Piccolo looked at him, as if wanting to say more, but stopped himself.

In the end, he simply sighed.

"Continue training."

Winter snow drifted down.

The eleventh month.

Gohan stood in the frozen wasteland, his breathing steady and calm.

A year of grueling training had long since allowed his body to adapt to all kinds of extreme environments. Bitter cold, scorching heat, hunger, thirst... to him now, these were all trivial matters.

"Gohan."

Piccolo descended from the sky, his expression somewhat grave.

"The one-year mark is almost here," he said. "Tomorrow is the appointed day."

Gohan nodded.

A year had passed.

In this year, he had grown from a four-year-old child who couldn't even use ki into a semi-expert with a combat power approaching five thousand. Ki perception, Flight Technique, ki blasts, continuous energy bullets... he had mastered all sorts of basic techniques to perfection.

But he knew it still wasn't enough.

Vegeta and Nappa each had a combat power exceeding ten thousand.

And he only had five thousand.

"Uncle Piccolo." Gohan spoke suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you." Gohan said earnestly. "For this past year... thank you."

Piccolo froze for a moment.

"...What are you thanking me for?"

"Thank you for teaching me how to train, thank you for protecting me from the shadows, and thank you for sneaking food to me during those unbearable nights." Gohan smiled. "Even though you never admit it."

Piccolo's face flushed slightly, but it was quickly masked by the cold wind.

"Enough nonsense." He turned away, his voice stiff. "I just... didn't want my training material to die before it could be put to use. That is all."

"Mmhmm, I get it." Son Gohan nodded, his smile deepening. "Training material."

"...What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing."

Son Gohan watched Piccolo's back, thinking to himself:

Tsundere.

Such a tsundere.

So much for deep father-son bonds; he was clearly just all bark and no bite.

"Alright, get some rest," Piccolo said. "Tomorrow... they arrive."

Son Gohan looked up at the gray, hazy sky in the distance.

Saiyans.

Vegeta, Nappa.

They were finally coming.

"Uncle Piccolo," Son Gohan asked suddenly, "do you think we can win?"

Piccolo didn't answer.

After a long silence, he finally spoke:

"I don't know."

"But—"

He turned his head to look at Son Gohan.

For the first time, there was a hint of warmth in those eyes.

"No matter the outcome, I will make sure you leave here alive."

"That is my promise."

Son Gohan froze.

This was... the first time Piccolo had ever spoken to him so directly.

Not "training material," not "useless brat," but... a promise.

"Uncle Piccolo..."

"Don't overthink it," Piccolo interrupted. "Sleep. We have a tough fight tomorrow."

With that, he took to the air once more and vanished into the night.

Son Gohan stood where he was, staring in the direction Piccolo had disappeared.

"You clearly just want to be my nanny..." he muttered, "but you have to call it training material..."

Shaking his head, Son Gohan turned and walked toward the small shelter he had built.

Tomorrow.

Everything would be revealed.

The night deepened.

Son Gohan lay on his crude bed of grass, looking up at the starry sky.

It had been nearly two years since he transmigrated.

He had gone from an ordinary modern office worker to four-year-old Son Gohan.

From a keyboard warrior who only knew how to talk big, to a warrior capable of standing on his own.

This year had been worth it.

Dad... Uncle Krillin... Big Sister Bulma... Son Gohan silently recited their names in his heart, I will definitely protect you all.

He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

Early the next morning.

Son Gohan was jolted awake by a piercing "beep-beep" sound.

He snapped his eyes open to see a small detector resting on a rock nearby.

It was Piccolo's detector.

Right now, the screen was flashing red.

Piccolo picked up the device, his brow furrowed.

"They're here," he said in a low voice. "They... have arrived."

No sooner had he finished speaking than two black specks suddenly appeared in the distant sky.

It grew larger.

It drew closer.

Gohan's pupils reflected the two figures as his heartbeat suddenly accelerated.

"Gohan." Piccolo pulled Gohan behind him, his voice low. "Remember what I told you."

"Your life comes first."

"Leave the rest to me."

The two figures descended from the sky, slamming heavily into the ground nearby and kicking up a massive cloud of dust.

"Hahahaha!"

The wild laughter of a bald, burly man echoed out.

"Vegeta, look, we've got quite the welcoming committee!"

The dust settled, revealing two figures.

A tall, bald man with a ferocious grin on his face.

A short, dark-haired figure with a look of contempt playing on his lips.

The Prince of all Saiyans.

Vegeta.

He looked up, fixing his gaze on Piccolo and Gohan.

"Oh? So you're the ones who killed Raditz?"

His eyes lingered on Gohan for a moment.

"And you... the brat who hit a power level of two thousand?"

"Interesting."

Vegeta licked his lips, revealing sharp canines.

"Perfect, I'm hungry."

"Which one should I kill first?"