A Message from the Future

After a while, Bulma tossed the screwdriver in her hand into the toolbox, stood up, and brushed the dust off her pants.

"Here, Gohan, the modifications are finished. Take a look."

She handed over the scouter, her face brimming with absolute confidence.

Son Gohan took the scouter and tilted up his slightly childish face with a smile. "No need to look, Aunt Bulma. If I don't trust you, who can I trust?"

"Aunt Bulma is the most brilliant scientist in the world. Anything you make is definitely top-notch."

That flattery hit right where it counted. Bulma froze for a moment before her face blossomed into a grin.

"Oh my, Gohan, where did you learn to talk like that? You're so sweet!" She bent down and pinched Son Gohan's cheek. "Unlike that blockhead father of yours. He doesn't understand a thing—his head is full of nothing but fighting and eating."

Son Gohan could only smile awkwardly at that.

There was no way to respond to it.

He couldn't exactly say, "Actually, my dad really is like that," could he?

A muffled rumble suddenly came from the sky, and a round little spaceship came plummeting down from above.

Boom!!

The spaceship crashed into the ground, sending shards of rock flying and blasting a huge crater into the earth.

With a hiss, the hatch opened, and a figure leaped out.

It was Son Goku, dressed in Yardrat clothing, with his iconic spiky black hair and an innocent, carefree smile on his face.

Standing beside the spaceship, Son Goku raised one hand and waved at everyone.

"Yo! Long time no see, everyone!"

The warriors froze for a moment, then surged toward him all at once.

"Goku!"

"You bastard—where the hell have you been?!"

"What took you so long to get back?!"

Krillin rushed to the front, grabbed Goku by the arm, and asked with concern on his face.

Son Goku scratched his head and chuckled.

"Planet Namek was about to explode, so I was searching everywhere for a spaceship. In the panic, I found one that still worked. Once I got aboard, I pressed a bunch of buttons at random, and it took off."

He paused before continuing, "Later, I landed on Yardrat. The people there were all pretty friendly. They weren't very strong, but they had all sorts of strange abilities. I stayed there for over a year and learned a few things before coming back."

Krillin suddenly understood. "So that's what happened."

Then he changed the subject and pointed at Trunks, who was standing some distance away.

"Goku, before you came back, the Frieza Force came to Earth. That purple-haired kid wiped out Frieza and his father in no time."

"Oh?"

Son Goku raised an eyebrow and looked in the direction Krillin was pointing.

There was a fighter like that somewhere in the universe?

He walked toward Trunks casually, curiosity in his eyes.

"Thanks for taking care of Frieza." Standing before Trunks, Son Goku's tone became more serious. "I could have used Instant Transmission to rush back too, but if something unexpected had happened, things might have gone badly. It's thanks to you that you stepped in."

Trunks shook his head.

"No need to thank me, Mr. Goku."

He fell silent for a second, then lifted his head and looked directly into Son Goku's eyes.

"Could you transform into a Super Saiyan too?"

The request came rather suddenly.

The surrounding Z Fighters were all stunned, unable to guess what the boy was trying to do.

Son Goku did not ask any questions. He merely nodded slightly, gathered his ki, and lowered his stance.

Boom—!!

Golden ki erupted from his body, and the ground cracked inch by inch beneath his feet. His black hair stood on end and turned into a dazzling gold, while his pupils shifted to emerald green.

He was a Super Saiyan!

The shockwave swept across the entire area.

Krillin took half a step back, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. Tien unconsciously clenched his fists. Yamcha stood there with his mouth open in disbelief.

That oppressive feeling—it was too powerful!

He was more than a whole level stronger than before.

Vegeta stood where he was, his fists clenched tight, his heart filled with unwillingness.

He stared fixedly at that golden figure, his fingernails nearly digging into his palms.

Damn it.

Even a low-class warrior like Kakarot had become the legendary Super Saiyan.

Trunks looked at Son Goku before him, his pupils contracting slightly.

Then he lowered his stance and unleashed his energy skyward.

Boom—!

Another golden pillar of light shot into the sky.

Trunks's hair stood on end as a golden aura enveloped his body. He drew the Sword of the Brave from his back.

The next instant, he moved.

He swung his sword, aiming straight for Goku's face.

Son Goku stood where he was without dodging.

The blade stopped just before his forehead. The gust from the sword made his golden hair sway slightly.

"Why didn't you dodge?" Trunks asked.

"Because you don't have any killing intent." Son Goku smiled.

Trunks fell silent.

Only one thought crossed his mind—Mother had been right. Mr. Son Goku was someone he could entrust things to.

"Mr. Goku, I won't hold back from here on." Trunks sheathed his sword, then gripped the hilt again. "Please use your full strength."

"Come on."

Trunks did not hesitate. The Sword of the Brave slashed out again, more than three times faster than before, its gleam leaving an afterimage in the air.

Son Goku raised one finger.

The blade struck that finger with a crisp metallic clang.

A blast of air erupted from the point of contact, sending broken stones flying in every direction.

Trunks's eyes widened.

How... was that possible?

Gritting his teeth, he attacked in rapid succession. Horizontal slashes, vertical cuts, diagonal strikes—the sword light became so fast it nearly merged into a single sheet, every swing carrying overwhelming force.

Son Goku used only that one finger.

With effortless ease, he blocked every incoming strike, each movement perfectly timed, carrying the bearing of a martial arts grandmaster.

Trunks lowered his sword.

The golden aura faded from his body, his hair returning to purple as he reverted to the cool, reserved teenager he had been.

He understood.

The gap between them was far too great.

"Mr. Goku." He sheathed his sword on his back. "Could I speak with you in private?"

Son Goku returned to normal as well, nodded, and followed Trunks to the other end of the valley, far away from the others.

Trunks lowered his voice.

"I came from the future."

Son Goku quietly waited for him to finish, without interrupting.

"Three years from now, two terrifying androids will appear. They will destroy everything." Trunks's voice was heavy. "In the future, the Z Fighters were completely wiped out. My father is Vegeta, and my mother is Bulma—please keep this secret. Otherwise, I might not even have the chance to be born."

He paused and looked at Son Goku before him.

"And at that point in the future, Mr. Goku, you died of a viral heart disease before you could even join the battle."

He took a capsule from his pocket and pressed it into Son Goku's hand.

"This is a special medicine. Please make sure to take it before the illness strikes, just in case."

Son Goku looked down at the capsule in his hand and fell silent for a while.

Then he nodded.

"I understand."

While the two spoke, Piccolo sat on a rock not far away with his eyes open, one ear twitching slightly.

Namekian ears were far more sensitive.

He had heard everything.

Trunks turned and walked back toward the group.

"Everyone, it's time for me to go."

He stopped before Son Gohan. Looking down at the seven-year-old boy, complicated emotions flickered in his eyes.

"Gohan," he said, "take care of yourself."

Son Gohan looked up at him and nodded solemnly.

"You too."

Trunks smiled, then turned and walked toward the time machine. The hatch closed, a flash of white light appeared, and he vanished into thin air.

The crowd fell silent for several seconds.

Son Goku turned around to face everyone and scratched his head.

"Um, listen, everyone. In three years, androids will appear. I hope we can all train hard until then and protect Earth together."

He paused, frowning.

"Where were they supposed to show up again... I forgot."

"On an island southwest of South City."

Piccolo's voice came from beside him, as calm as if he were commenting on the weather.

Son Goku smacked his forehead. "Right! That's the place!"

Everyone's eyes turned to Piccolo in unison. Piccolo stood with his arms folded, cold-faced, offering no explanation.

No matter where the information had come from, no one doubted Piccolo's words.

"Three years..."

Krillin clenched his fists.

One after another, everyone said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

Son Goku walked over to Son Gohan, looked down at his son, and smiled.

"Gohan, come on. Let's go home."

Son Gohan nodded.

But he did not leave right away.

"Dad, wait a second." He raised his hand and pointed toward the eastern sky. "Come with me to the East Sea first."

Son Goku tilted his head, not quite understanding what his son wanted to do.

But he still listened to him.

"Okay."

Two bursts of white aura erupted at once. One large figure and one small figure shot into the sky, tearing through the air toward the East Sea.