Ideal City is the closest city to Mount Paozu.
In the city center, at a prestigious elementary school with pristine white walls and a brand-new, impressive school building, the melodious school bell rang precisely on time, breaking the afternoon's tranquility.
Since Turles helped ease the family's financial burden, Chi-Chi didn't hesitate to use all her resources to send Son Gohan to the best school in town.
At this moment, Son Gohan, sporting his signature bowl cut and wearing a neatly pressed school uniform, was walking out of the school gate with a group of children of similar age, chatting and laughing.
The children's topics were always whimsical, ranging from the latest game consoles to the cartoons that aired last night. Soon, the conversation naturally shifted to their fathers.
"My dad is a big entrepreneur! Our company is very famous in this city!" A chubby little boy dressed in designer children's clothes, with his little belly sticking out, was full of pride.
Another boy, wearing small, gold-rimmed glasses, pushed up his frames and retorted defiantly, "So what? My dad's an official! Even the mayor listens to him!"
A chorus of small gasps of surprise immediately rose from the crowd, and the atmosphere became quite lively.
The children chattered excitedly, showing off as if their father's profession was their most dazzling medal.
Just then, a little girl with pigtails suddenly turned her gaze to Son Gohan, who had been listening quietly to her.
" Gohan, Gohan! What does your father do?"
As soon as the question was raised, everyone's attention immediately focused on it.
Son Gohan, who had been wearing a faint smile, suddenly froze.
He subconsciously scratched his cheek, a look of distress that only he could understand.
Dad's job...
How should I put it?
It's said that he followed his uncle to some distant star system in the universe, "working" in an army called the Sixth Branch for a cosmic emperor named Frieza?
Or is his daily work consisting of training and fighting against all sorts of powerful aliens, pushing the limits of human endurance?
If I said these things out loud, everyone would probably think I'm crazy.
Looking at the curious eyes around him, Son Gohan pondered for a long time before finally choosing the simplest and most truthful explanation.
My dad... he doesn't work on Earth.
He spoke hesitantly, his voice low.
He works in a very, very far place... in space.
The words had barely left his mouth.
The chubby boy who had been bragging about his father being a businessman suddenly widened his eyes.
"In the universe?!"
The little boy next to him, whose father was a high-ranking official, also gaped, his eyes behind his glasses filled with shock.
After a brief silence, someone suddenly reacted, letting out a scream in an extremely exaggerated tone, a mixture of surprise and admiration:
"Wow!!"
"Working in space... Could it be that your dad is an astronaut?!"
astronaut?!
In an instant, all the children around him cast incredibly fervent, almost heroic gazes at Son Gohan.
In their simple worldview, the profession of "astronaut" represents courage, wisdom, and the romance of exploring the unknown; it is the pinnacle of all professions.
That's infinitely cooler than any entrepreneur or government official!
"Wow! Gohan's dad is an astronaut!"
"That's amazing! I've only ever seen that on TV!"
Was he wearing one of those cool white outfits?
Faced with the sudden and fervent admiration from his classmates, Son Gohan was somewhat at a loss.
He smiled sheepishly, his cheeks slightly flushed.
Astronaut... that seems quite different from my dad's job...
However, he really didn't know how to explain to his friends that his father was actually a combatant in an alien army...
He could only frantically rack his brains, trying to find a more suitable word to describe it, while awkwardly smiling and waving to his classmates who had already begun to indulge in endless fantasies about his "father".
"Um... I... I'm going home now!"
Goodbye everyone!
After saying that, Sun Wu practically fled, turning and running away.
He had to hurry home; this matter was too complicated. He needed to ask his mother how he should answer if asked again.
Neither his maternal grandfather nor his mother were available to pick him up today, so he had to go home alone.
Because of his unusual vehicle that might attract attention, he deliberately avoided the main road and instead turned into a quiet alleyway, a route he knew well.
The alley is lined with towering residential buildings, which fragment the sunlight and cast large patches of shadow.
Son Gohan, carrying his schoolbag, walked alone in the quiet alley, the only sound echoing around him being his own light footsteps.
He didn't know.
On a rooftop not far behind him, two small, furtive figures were following him.
The two little ones were incredibly agile, leaping and bounding among the towering buildings without making a sound, like two young leopards darting through the urban steel jungle.
They didn't even bother to conceal their presence.
However, for Son Gohan, who hadn't experienced much martial arts training to begin with...
This is completely irrelevant.
He didn't notice at all.
"Hey, Goten!"
On the rooftop, a boy with striking short purple hair spoke with great interest, pointing down at the figure carrying a schoolbag in the alley below.
"Is that dim-witted kid your brother?"
The other little one next to him, sporting a distinctive "crab" hairstyle just like Son Goku and Turles, was perched on the edge of the rooftop, peering down curiously.
Son Goten seemed not to have heard Trunks' slightly teasing question at all; his big, dark eyes were now sparkling with pure curiosity and longing.
He lay on the edge of the roof, his little head peering down, watching the children below, dressed in the same clothes and carrying colorful backpacks, walk out of the school gate in twos and threes. A big smile involuntarily spread across his face.
Trunks noticed Son Goten's unusual behavior.
Suddenly, he leaned close to Son Goten and asked, "Hey! Goten! What's wrong?"
Son Goten seemed to wake from a dream, scratched his head sheepishly, and grinned broadly.
"What did you say, Trunks? I didn't hear you."
Trunks looked curious. "What are you looking at, Goten? You seem so engrossed."
Son Goten, then excitedly waved his little finger towards the lively crowd below.
" Trunks, look! There are so many people!"
"Going to school must be a lot of fun because everyone can sit together!"
"Interesting?"
Trunks was taken aback upon hearing this.
In a daze, it seemed as if the peaceful and tranquil city scene before him was no longer what he was looking at.
Trunks shook his head violently, as if trying to shake off all the inappropriate, gray memories from his mind.
He quickly regained control of his expression.
Instead, there was a gray sky, collapsed buildings, and desolate streets.
In that devastated and Hell time and place, going to school was a completely foreign concept.
He curled his lip and, with a tone of knowing superiority and a hint of disdain, retorted to Son Goten was still looking on with longing:
"Tch, what's the point?"
"Spending time with a bunch of weak, immature kids who can't even breathe properly is a complete waste of time."
"You'd be better off training in the gravity chamber than using that time."
Son Goten, however, did not think so.
He sat up straight on the edge of the roof, turned his head, looked at Trunks with a "you're too naive" expression, and retorted with a grin:
"It's not a waste of time at all!"
"You're sure to make lots and lots of fun friends at school!"
"Friend?"
Trunks thought he'd heard the biggest joke imaginable.
"What's the use of that? As long as you're strong enough, isn't that enough?"
"Of course it's useful!" Son Goten argued logically, "If we make friends, we can all play together!"
"Play?" Trunks frowned even more. "That's something only useless people care about!"