Hyperbolic Time Chamber

In the early morning, sunlight filtered through the trees and streamed in through the window.

Son Gohan opened his eyes, sat up in bed, and rolled his shoulders, feeling refreshed and full of energy.

The clatter of a spatula against a wok came from downstairs. Chi-Chi was already busy in the kitchen.

By the time he came downstairs, the table was already covered with steaming hot dishes.

Son Goku was already seated at the table, shoveling food into his mouth with a bowl in hand, his cheeks stuffed full.

"Gohan, hurry up and eat."

"We'll set off once we're done."

Son Gohan sat down and picked up his bowl. Father and son tore through the meal like a whirlwind, emptying plate after plate.

After eating, he went upstairs to wash up and packed several changes of clothes, a bag of Senzu Beans, and the Universal Capsules Bulma had given him into a bundle.

When he came downstairs, Chi-Chi was standing at the door. In the past, she would have started nagging long ago, but now that the family was no longer short on money, prosperity had made her much more understanding.

"Be careful. Don't train so hard that you ruin your body."

"Got it, Mom."

Son Gohan stepped outside, where Son Goku was already waiting in the open space before the house.

The father and son exchanged a glance, then powered up at the same time.

White auras shot skyward, and the surrounding grass and trees bent beneath the pressure wave.

Two streaks of white light rose from the ground and shot toward the horizon.

The vast plaza of Kami's Lookout.

Piccolo had arrived early and was sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed.

Vegeta stood at the edge of the plaza with his arms crossed, his back to everyone. Bulma was crouched beside him. When she looked up and saw the two figures land, she waved.

"Morning, everyone." Son Goku landed and waved at the group.

Piccolo opened one eye and gave a cool nod.

Vegeta did not even turn his head, showing not the slightest bit of courtesy.

Mr. Popo was already waiting on the temple steps, with the old Kami standing behind him.

Since Piccolo had already explained their purpose, there was no need for further explanation.

Leaning on his cane, Kami swept his gaze over everyone before nodding at Mr. Popo.

"I understand. Follow me."

Mr. Popo turned and headed deeper into the temple.

Everyone followed him through a dim corridor and stopped before a wooden door.

The patterns on the door were ancient, carrying a faint sense of weathered age.

Mr. Popo reached out and pushed it open, and the wooden door gave a dull creak.

Beyond it lay a vast expanse of white.

It stretched endlessly in every direction, with no discernible boundaries.

Son Goku was the first to step inside and take a breath.

"The air is really thin. The gravity here is ten times different from the outside world."

Vegeta looked around, frowning deeply. "We're training here? How exactly?"

Son Gohan set down his bundle and took out three Universal Capsules.

"Vegeta, go to the Gravity Chamber first and raise your base battle power."

"As for me, I'll work on improving my actual combat skills and battle experience first."

He tossed the capsules toward an open patch of ground in the distance.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

As the smoke cleared, three stacked Gravity Chambers appeared in the white expanse. Their high-tech shells were especially conspicuous, their three-layered structure nested together like three iron boxes stacked atop one another.

"The gravity from these three layers stacks. Turn them on one layer at a time—don't activate them all at once."

Son Gohan looked at Vegeta. "One layer won't be a problem. Two layers means two times two times two, which is eight times gravity. With the tenfold gravity outside, that makes eighty times gravity."

"Three layers make it two hundred and seventy times, and four layers make it six hundred and forty times. If you can't take it, come out. Don't blame me for not warning you if you die in there."

"Or, if you really can't handle it and think the intensity is too high, you can put away one Gravity Chamber. That'll remove one layer of stacked gravity."

Vegeta gave a haughty snort, his expression as cool as ever, then spoke flatly.

"Got it."

He turned and entered the Gravity Chamber.

Piccolo sat cross-legged on the other side, closed his eyes, and entered meditation.

Son Gohan turned to face Son Goku.

"Dad, help me break through my limits and transform into a Super Saiyan."

Son Goku looked into his eyes and fell silent for a moment. "It'll be tough. Are you sure?"

Son Gohan nodded firmly. Of course!

Seeing this, Son Goku said no more.

He stepped back two paces and clenched his fists. Golden aura erupted from within him, his hair turning gold strand by strand and standing on end.

His pupils turned emerald green, and his entire presence changed in an instant. After transforming into a Super Saiyan, his temperament became battle-hungry and bloodthirsty.

His aura pressed down, making the air around them tremble.

Son Gohan gritted his molars as a white aura burst forth, unleashing his combat power of over four million to the fullest.

He barely managed to keep himself standing in this space. Compared to Son Goku's current Super Saiyan combat power, this little strength was like an ant trying to shake a tree.

Yet he still charged forward, throwing a fierce punch at Son Goku.

Faced with the menacing punch, Son Goku could not even be bothered to dodge. The fist struck him as though it had hit an alloy steel plate, and the recoil traveled back through Son Gohan's arm, numbing his fingers. Son Goku lowered his head to glance at where he had been hit, then raised his hand and threw a punch.

The fist landed in Son Gohan's abdomen, its force piercing through body and soul.

Son Gohan let out a pained howl and spat up a mouthful of sour fluid, his body doubling over as he was sent flying backward.

He curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach, unable to catch his breath for a long while.

This was with Son Goku holding back. Otherwise, that punch would have torn through his abdomen and gone straight through his heart.

"Get up, Gohan!" Son Goku shouted. "Is that all you've got?"

Gritting his teeth, Son Gohan climbed to his feet and finally managed to catch his breath.

He charged in again, only to be sent flying back by another punch.

After getting beaten over and over for an entire day, Son Gohan felt like a punching bag, constantly being struck.

"Idiot! Trash!"

"Aren't you always angry? Let that energy explode!"

Son Goku kept provoking him with words, spewing trash talk to rile him up and force him to erupt. A Super Saiyan could only break through the bottleneck in anger.

He had experienced it himself. No one understood it better than he did.

By evening, Son Gohan could no longer stand steadily. His legs trembled, blood hung from the corner of his mouth, and his entire body was bruised and battered. His aura was barely there.

Son Goku raised his right hand, gathering a golden ki blast in his palm. With a flick of his finger, he fired it at Son Gohan.

Son Gohan crossed his arms and used all his strength to block it.

The ki blast struck him and exploded.

The shockwave sent him flying, and he crashed heavily onto the ground, all his strength drained away.

On the other side of the Gravity Chamber.

Vegeta stood in the center, activating triple stacking. Combined with the chamber's natural tenfold gravity, it became two hundred and seventy times gravity!

The crushing pressure, as heavy as a thousand pounds, bore down on every inch of his bones, muscles, cells, and internal organs.

He was doing push-ups.

Whenever his body lowered, gravity tore at his muscle fibers. With every repetition, his joints could be heard creaking.

Sweat poured down like rain, soaking through his black tank top as he breathed heavily.

Vegeta gritted his teeth, thinking of Kakarot and his son outside. He was the prince of the Saiyans. He would never lose to anyone!

After finishing the push-ups, he struggled to stand. His legs trembled slightly under the gravity, and his knees let out faint cracking sounds.

Then he began throwing punches at the air again.

One punch, two punches, three punches—every strike carried a heavy whistling sound through the air.

Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, instantly accelerating under the gravity and smashing into the floor, flattened into tiny wet marks.