The Devilish Special Training

"Welcome to hell."

Piccolo tossed Gohan to the ground and announced it without a trace of expression.

Gohan got up and looked around.

Wilderness. Barren mountains. Wild grass. Not a soul in sight.

"Uncle Piccolo, are we lost?" Gohan asked cautiously.

Piccolo didn't answer. He simply pointed to a large rock some distance away.

"From now on, you'll train over there."

"What am I supposed to train?"

"Everything." Piccolo turned his back to Gohan. "Can you sense ki?"

Gohan nodded. Of course he could. He'd watched all of Dragon Ball before transmigrating, and while he'd never trained himself, he had plenty of theoretical knowledge.

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

"...Ants?" Gohan stared at him in disbelief.

"If you get hungry, find food. If you get thirsty, find water," Piccolo continued, as if he hadn't heard Gohan's question. "I won't help you at all."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Gohan panicked. "You're just leaving me here by myself? What if I run into danger?"

"Then use your ki sensing to avoid it."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you die." Piccolo's voice was as cold as ice. "If you can't avoid it, that means you haven't trained enough."

Gohan: "???"

What kind of devilish training was this?! He was only four! Four! He hadn't even finished losing his baby teeth! Where was the labor law? The child protection act? SOS? Somebody, anybody, come save him!

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

"The Saiyans will arrive in a year." Piccolo finally turned around, his gaze sharp. "At your current strength, you wouldn't even be enough to pick their teeth."

"I'm here to teach you how to fight, not wait on you hand and foot." He spoke each word deliberately. "If you want to survive, figure it out yourself."

With that, Piccolo leaped away and disappeared into the mountains.

Gohan stood there in a daze, staring in the direction Piccolo had vanished.

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

"...I can't believe I actually trusted you enough to come along!"

A four-year-old child, all alone in the wilderness, with no one to rely on.

Gohan crouched on the ground and buried his head in his hands.

This wasn't how the story was supposed to go! In the original, Piccolo did take him away to train, but at least he had a house to live in, Bulma bringing supplies, and Krillin as a training partner!

And now? Barren mountains! All by himself! Not a thing in sight!

He looked up at the sky. The sun was already starting to sink.

Before nightfall, he had to find food, water, and somewhere to sleep.

Otherwise, he'd be sharing the neighborhood with dinosaurs tonight.

At the thought, Gohan shivered.

There were Pterosaurs around here, if he remembered right...

"Come on, come on. Let's just make it through tonight first." Gohan got up and dusted off his pants.

As he walked, he grumbled furiously to himself:

The way Piccolo trained him looked suspiciously like social retribution. So much for devilish special training. Why start with surviving in the wilderness? What did that have to do with special training?

Was this the legendary "free-range training"?

Or... did Piccolo just want to ditch him and enjoy some peace and quiet?

"Why are you pretending to be so cold?" Gohan muttered. "You're just freeloading off Bulma for food and a place to stay! Why act all tough with me?"

Of course, he only dared say that in his head.

What if Piccolo was hiding in a tree, keeping an eye on him?

Three days later.

Gohan crouched in a tree, clutching a half-raw, half-cooked fish.

Over the past three days, he'd learned to start a fire by rubbing sticks together, though he only succeeded about thirty percent of the time. He'd learned which wild fruits were safe to eat, though two of them had given him a stomachache. He'd also learned to use ki sensing to detect nearby dangers—though he still occasionally missed some of the smaller carnivores.

"Whoosh."

A tail suddenly swept past below the tree.

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

Velociraptors. Three of them.

They prowled beneath the tree, sniffing incessantly as if searching for the scent of prey.

Gohan held his breath, his heart pounding.

Calm down, calm down. Use ki sensing...

He closed his eyes and extended his awareness.

Three dinosaurs, medium-sized, with a fighting strength roughly equivalent to tigers on Earth. They were still a deadly threat to him.

But as long as they didn't find him, he'd be fine.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

The Velociraptors seemed unable to find anything. At last, they wandered away.

Gohan let out a long breath.

"Phew."

Just then, a shadow dropped from the sky.

"Ah!"

Gohan cried out and instinctively tried to dodge, but the shadow was moving too fast. He had no time to react.

A large hand caught him precisely, then let go.

"You've improved."

Piccolo's voice came from behind him.

Gohan whipped around. Piccolo was standing on another branch, holding a bag.

"Uncle Piccolo?!" Gohan cried, surprised and delighted. "You came to get me?"

"Just passing by." Piccolo tossed him the bag without changing his expression. "Eat."

Gohan hurriedly opened it. There were some provisions and water inside.

"Whoa! Food!" Gohan's eyes lit up, and he wolfed it down.

Piccolo stood beside him, quietly watching him eat.

"Three days," Piccolo said suddenly. "Your ki sensing is coming along nicely."

With his mouth full, Gohan mumbled, "Mm... Th... thanks..."

"But it's not enough." Piccolo changed tack. "Saiyans start at a fighting strength of four or five thousand, at the very least. Your senses need to pinpoint an enemy ten thousand meters away before they'll be useful in a fight."

"Ten thousand meters?" Gohan choked. "Isn't that like a Dragon Radar?"

"More or less." Piccolo nodded. "So keep training."

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

Piccolo looked down at him, his gaze complicated.

"...What's the rush?"

"Huh?"

"Training takes time." Piccolo's tone was calm. "First, you need to learn how to sense danger so you can react in a fight. In a year, I'll teach you actual combat techniques."

With that, he turned to leave.

"Then... could you come check on me once in a while?" Gohan asked after him.

Piccolo didn't answer, but his steps faltered slightly.

"...Come here in ten days."

Then he disappeared.

Gohan watched the place Piccolo had vanished, his feelings tangled.

Piccolo could've stayed and trained with him the whole time, but instead he had to act like some cold, aloof master. Ten days from now? Ten whole days! He still had to find food and water, avoid wild beasts, and struggle against the elements all by himself!

But...

Gohan touched the bag of provisions in his hand.

Where had the food come from?

He looked down. There was some fresh jerky in the bag, clearly cooked by Piccolo himself.

And...

Gohan suddenly realized something.

He'd already used ki sensing to check the entire area within a ten-mile radius. Aside from wild animals, there wasn't a trace of anyone.

So how had Piccolo been "passing by"?

He'd clearly come just to see him.

"...Why are you pretending to be so cold?" Gohan muttered. The corners of his mouth rose despite himself.

Classic tough talk, soft heart.

Just as I expected.

Spring gave way to summer.

Gohan had been training in the wilderness for three months.

His ability to sense ki had improved by leaps and bounds. He could now accurately detect the movements of every living creature within a five-kilometer radius. He could even vaguely sense the number of insects underground.

"Again!"

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

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

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

A blue energy wave roared forth and struck a rock fifty meters away.

"Boom!!"

The rock exploded into fragments.

"Not bad." Piccolo nodded. "Your aim and power are both good enough."

"Really?" Gohan bounced excitedly. "Can I learn a stronger technique now?"

"Not yet." Piccolo poured cold water on his excitement. "The Kamehameha is just a basic technique. Your fighting strength has only just passed a thousand. You're still a long way from taking on the Saiyans."

"A thousand?" Gohan deflated. "Only a thousand..."

"Don't be greedy," Piccolo said. "Going from a little over eight hundred to a thousand in three months is monstrous progress. Keep going."

Gohan nodded and got back into position.

But inside, he was grumbling furiously:

Only a thousand after three months? How strong was he supposed to get in the remaining nine months? Three thousand? Five thousand?

Was this devilish training actually going to work?

"You're distracted," Piccolo said suddenly.

"N-no, I'm not!"

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

"What?"

"The Flight Technique." Piccolo's feet left the ground, and he slowly rose into the air. "Control your ki and make yourself fly."

Gohan's eyes lit up. "Flying?"

"That's right." Piccolo turned around in midair. "Saiyans can fly. If you can't, you'll be stuck taking hits forever."

With that, he suddenly sped up and dove toward Gohan.

"Dodge first!"

Gohan's pupils shrank. He immediately darted to the side.

"Whoosh."

Piccolo shot past him, kicking up a gust of wind.

"Not bad. Your reaction speed is good." Piccolo rose into the air again. "Keep dodging!"

And so, Gohan's Flight Technique training finally began to show a little progress after Piccolo spent the entire afternoon chasing him around and beating him up.

He still couldn't fly, but at least he could use a sudden burst of energy to glide through the air for a few seconds.

"That's enough for today." Piccolo landed. "We'll continue tomorrow."

"Uncle Piccolo," Gohan called after him.

"Hmm?"

"Um... thank you." Gohan scratched his head, a little embarrassed. "Thanks for being willing to teach me."

Piccolo paused.

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

Then he flew off.

Gohan watched Piccolo disappear into the distance and couldn't help smiling.

So tsundere.

Really, really tsundere.

The autumn wind blew.

Six months had passed.

Gohan stood atop a mountain peak, looking down at the land below.

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

"Boom!!"

He thrust both palms forward, firing two blasts of ki at once. They hit the two targets on a distant mountaintop with pinpoint accuracy.

"Not bad." Piccolo stood behind him, a hint of satisfaction finally entering his voice. "Your accuracy and speed are both up to par."

"So does that mean I can learn a new move?" Gohan asked eagerly.

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

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

That was Piccolo's signature move! The ultimate technique that could seal any enemy inside a rice cooker! He was actually going to teach it to him?

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

"Three seconds is still impressive!"

"But," Piccolo continued, changing tack, "the Evil Containment Wave carries the risk of the caster being caught in the backlash. If you can't concentrate enough, you and your enemy will both be sealed away."

Gohan: "..."

Wait, how was that different from the original?

In the original, wasn't it the backlash that sealed up Uub? How had it turned into the caster getting sealed too?

"So I'll only teach you the principles," Piccolo said. "As for using it in an actual fight, we'll talk about that once your power level is over ten thousand."

"Over ten thousand?" Gohan exclaimed. "Doesn't that mean I'll have to train for another year?"

"More or less." Piccolo glanced at him. "What, are you scared?"

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

Piccolo fell silent for a moment.

"...You really have improved quickly," he said softly. "Faster than I expected."

Gohan froze.

Was this the first time Piccolo had ever praised him to his face?

"But," Piccolo's voice turned cold again, "it's not enough. Every Saiyan who arrives a year from now will be much stronger than you. If you want to survive and protect the people you care about, you have to get stronger."

"Got it." Gohan nodded earnestly.

Piccolo glanced at him, seeming to want to say something, but stopping himself.

In the end, he only sighed.

"Keep training."

Snow swirled through the winter air.

The eleventh month.

Gohan stood in the freezing snow, his breathing steady as ever.

A year of brutal training had long since conditioned his body to withstand every kind of extreme environment. Bitter cold, scorching heat, hunger, thirst... None of it was more than a minor inconvenience to him now.

"Gohan."

Piccolo descended from the sky, his expression grave.

"The year is almost up," he said. "Tomorrow is the day we agreed on."

Gohan nodded.

A whole year.

In that time, he had gone from a four-year-old who couldn't even use ki to a promising fighter with a power level nearing five thousand. Ki sensing, the Flight Technique, ki blasts, consecutive ki blasts... He had mastered all the basic moves.

But he knew that still wasn't enough.

Vegeta and Nappa each had power levels over ten thousand.

And he only had five thousand.

"Uncle Piccolo," Gohan suddenly said.

"Hmm?"

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

Piccolo paused in surprise.

"...For what?"

"For teaching me to train, for secretly protecting me all along, and for sneaking me food on those hard nights." Gohan smiled. "Even though you never admit it."

Piccolo's face reddened slightly, but the cold wind soon hid it.

"Cut the nonsense." He turned away, his voice stiff. "I just... didn't want my training material to die before it was of any use. That's all."

"Sure, sure. I get it." Gohan nodded, his smile growing. "Training material."

"...What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing."

Watching Piccolo's back, Gohan thought to himself:

Such a tsundere.

A total tsundere.

All that father-son affection, and he still insisted on acting tough.

"Enough. Get some rest," Piccolo said. "Tomorrow... they'll be here."

Gohan looked up at the distant, murky sky.

The Saiyans.

Vegeta. Nappa.

They were finally coming.

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

Piccolo didn't answer.

Only after a long silence did he speak.

"I don't know."

"But..."

He turned and looked at Gohan.

For the first time, a hint of warmth entered his eyes.

"No matter what happens, I'll make sure you get out of here alive."

"That's my promise."

Gohan froze.

This was... the first time Piccolo had said something so direct to him.

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

"Uncle Piccolo..."

"Don't read too much into it," Piccolo cut him off. "Go to sleep. We've got a tough fight tomorrow."

With that, he rose into the air again and vanished into the night.

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

"You obviously just want to be my babysitter..." he muttered. "And you insist on calling me training material..."

Shaking his head, Gohan turned and headed for the little shelter he'd built.

Tomorrow.

Everything would be decided.

Night fell.

Gohan lay on his rough grass bed, gazing up at the stars.

It had been almost two years since he'd crossed over.

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

He had gone from a keyboard warrior who only talked big to a fighter who could stand on his own.

This year had been worth it.

"Dad... Uncle Krillin... Big Sis Bulma..." Gohan silently repeated their names to himself. "I'll protect you all."

He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning.

Gohan was jolted awake by a shrill series of beeps.

He opened his eyes and saw a small Scouter resting on a rock nearby.

It was Piccolo's Scouter.

Its screen was flashing red.

Piccolo picked up the Scouter, his brows drawn together.

"They're here," he murmured. "They... they're here."

As soon as the words left his mouth, two black dots appeared in the distant sky.

They grew larger.

They drew closer.

The two figures were reflected in Gohan's pupils, and his heart began to pound.

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

"Stay alive first."

"Leave the rest to me."

The two figures plummeted from the sky and slammed into the ground nearby, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Hahahaha!"

A bald, burly man's boisterous laughter rang out.

"Vegeta, look! Quite a crowd came out to welcome us!"

As the dust settled, two figures emerged.

One was a tall, bald man with a vicious grin.

The other was a short, slim figure with black hair and a sneer.

The prince of the Saiyans.

Vegeta.

He raised his head and looked at Piccolo and Gohan.

"Oh? You're the ones who killed Raditz?"

His gaze lingered on Gohan for a moment.

"And you... the brat whose power level surged to two thousand?"

"Interesting."

Vegeta licked his lips, baring his sharp canines.

"Just as well. I'm hungry."

"Which one should I kill first?"