(Brain storage area! This is the author's first book. I really love Dragon Ball and wanted to write a fanfic of my own. If there are any shortcomings, all you Eddie Pengs and Liu Yifeis among my dear readers are welcome to point them out.)
(A deep bow to you all. Criticism of shortcomings is welcome; brainless criticism is not.)
Heart Island!
On the vast grassland at the center of the island, a breeze brushed past, and blades of grass swayed in the wind. A young man of about seventeen or eighteen stood amid them, his arms held in front of his chest and his knees slightly bent, as still as a boulder.
Suddenly, Wumu slowly opened his eyes, his gaze as tranquil as lake water.
He drew a deep breath and began moving his hands in circles, his body swaying with them.
As though drawn by some force, the surrounding air currents and leaves spiraled together between his hands, forming a small ball of swirling air.
Whoosh!
Bang!
Wumu thrust both hands forward, sending the swirling ball shooting out to slam into the large rock ahead.
With a thunderous crash, the rock instantly shattered, crumbling into powder.
"I've been in this world for five years, and I've already trained my Bajiquan to the level of Hidden Force. I wonder whether I'm strong enough to spar with Son Goku and the others," Wumu murmured, a glimmer of anticipation flashing in his eyes.
Wumu had originally been an ordinary young man from Earth, but after waking up one day, he had discovered that he had transmigrated into this unfamiliar world.
Fortunately, there was a small village nearby. By asking the villagers, he had learned that this was Heart Island, in the world of Dragon Ball.
That year marked the opening of the 20th World Martial Arts Tournament, and the villagers were all going with their families to watch.
With nowhere to go, Wumu had built a crude house on a nearby hill.
In this world of Dragon Ball, even ordinary people could live normal lives. After all, even if powerful enemies killed them, Son Goku and the others would use the Dragon Balls to revive ordinary people.
In his previous life on Earth, Wumu had practiced martial arts and was proficient in Bajiquan, but he had never achieved any significant results.
After coming to this world, he had discovered that he could actually cultivate Ki, making him unwilling to settle for an ordinary life.
Even if he could never catch up to a Super Saiyan, he would train his Bajiquan to its utmost limit.
Now, with one month left until the opening of the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament, Wumu decided to travel on foot to South Island, which was not far from Heart Island.
"Uncle Malo, are you going to watch the World Martial Arts Tournament again this year?" Wumu asked as he packed his belongings.
Malo was the villager who had introduced Wumu to the island when he first transmigrated here, and he had taken good care of him over the past five years.
Uncle Malo rubbed the back of his head and gave an honest, good-natured laugh. "Ah, young Wumu! Hahahahaha! I'm not going this year. There aren't any really strong competitors in the World Martial Arts Tournament these days. It's pretty dull to watch."
Wumu smiled, a trace of mischief flashing in his eyes. "Hahaha, that makes me want to see it even more. Maybe if I enter, I can make this year's World Martial Arts Tournament a little less dull."
Uncle Malo's eyes lit up, clearly intrigued by Wumu's suggestion:
"Oh? You're planning to enter the World Martial Arts Tournament?"
Wumu nodded firmly:
"Yes, Uncle Malo. I've been practicing Bajiquan for five years. Although I don't know how far I can get, I still want to test where my limits lie."
Uncle Malo patted Wumu's shoulder and said, his face full of anticipation:
"Good lad, you've got ambition! Then you'd better prepare well. None of the opponents at the World Martial Arts Tournament will be pushovers."
"But I believe in you. You'll definitely open everyone's eyes!"
Wumu nodded, his heart filled with fighting spirit.
He knew that although he could never become a super warrior like Son Goku, he could at least leave his mark on this world through his own efforts.
Over the following days, Wumu worked twice as hard at his Bajiquan training, while also learning to master basic skills of this world, such as Ki Blasts.
Time flew like a white steed flashing past a crack, and in the blink of an eye, the day of the World Martial Arts Tournament arrived.
Dressed in a simple martial arts uniform and carrying a small backpack, Wumu set off for the World Martial Arts Tournament.
South Island, the venue of the World Martial Arts Tournament.
"Does anyone else want to sign up? Registration closes at noon today!"
At the tournament entrance, a staff member held up a megaphone and shouted.
"Wumu, go sign up. We'll wait for you here."
Uncle Malo patted Wumu's shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile.
"All right, Uncle Malo."
Wumu nodded and walked toward the registration desk.
He joined the line, and before long, it was his turn.
"Name?"
"Wumu."
"All right, next!"
Having registered, Wumu turned to rejoin Uncle Malo.
Meanwhile, a car slowly stopped outside the venue. The doors opened, and three people stepped out.
"Wow! I never knew there were so many people in the world!"
"Hm?"
"Goku, what's wrong?"
Krillin looked at Son Goku in puzzlement.
"Ahahaha, nothing. That guy just feels really strong."
Son Goku's brow relaxed, and an excited smile appeared on his face.
"Amazing! This really is the World Martial Arts Tournament!"
Sensing someone staring at him, Wumu turned and saw a boy with crab-shaped hair and a bald boy.
He instantly recognized them as Son Goku and Krillin. Startled, he quickly regained his composure, smiled at them, then continued toward Uncle Malo.
Seeing Wumu's smile, Son Goku nodded back, then headed toward the registration desk.
"Huh? What? What a strange guy."
Squinting his small eyes and rubbing the back of his head, Krillin followed Son Goku in bewilderment.
"Hey! Wait for me, Goku!"
Master Roshi stood off to the side, a keen gleam shining behind his glasses.
"What an incredible young man."
Muttering to himself, he also headed toward the registration desk.
Wumu's arrival had brought some changes to the course of this tournament, but what would the outcome be?
At the registration desk.
"We'd like to sign up."
"May I have your name...?"
"I'm not the one entering. These two are."
Master Roshi pointed at Son Goku and Krillin.
"Huh?! These two little children are entering?"
The staff member looked at Son Goku and Krillin in surprise, but still quickly recorded their names.
"Hey! Goku!"
After registering, Son Goku heard someone calling him. He looked around but saw no familiar faces.
He turned to Krillin. "Were you calling me?"
"Ah..."
Krillin smiled awkwardly and shook his head.
Just then, someone walked up to them.
"Hey! Goku, long time no see."
"Huh? Who are you?"
Son Goku blinked his large eyes, his little head full of big questions.
"Wolf Fang Fist!"
The man struck an opening stance.
"Ah! Yamcha!"
Son Goku cried out in delighted surprise.
"Hehe, you finally recognized me."
"Wow! It's been ages! How come you look like this? Your hairstyle's changed so much I didn't recognize you."
"Oh, this? Someone said long hair looks too old-fashioned in the city."
Thinking of his recent reunion with Bulma and the others, Yamcha rubbed the back of his head and smiled, his face red.
Seeing this, Krillin tugged at Son Goku's sleeve.
"Hey, who's he?"
"He's my friend, Yamcha," Son Goku introduced him. "And this guy is Krillin. He trained with me at the old man's place."
The two greeted each other. Just then, Master Roshi came over, and Bulma and the others arrived as well.
Bulma cried out in delighted surprise.
"Goku?!"
"Ah! Bulma! Oolong! Puar!"
Seeing them, Son Goku happily ran over.
Oolong spread his arms, then joined hands with Son Goku and began hopping around joyfully.
"Goku, long time no see!" he said with a hearty laugh.
"It really has been! Has everyone been doing well?" Son Goku asked excitedly.