A muscled teenager with light, greenish-yellow hair blasted west over the ocean with speed so incredible that it left shockwaves in its wake strong enough to create miniature tsunamis that rippled through the water before settling, long before they reached (most) land. Eventually, he slowed, before landing on the shores of the small landmass known as Papaya Island. The moment that his feet touched the ground, though, the light greenish-yellow color slipped from his hair, and he seemed to shrink, his muscles instantly vanishing, leaving, in his place, a small, skinny boy who looked no older than five or six, wearing elastic shorts and a loose blue shirt.
"Still can't keep it up for more than a few minutes… Seems to be a bit easier when I'm moving my body, though." I mumbled to myself as I began walking, examining my Super Saiyan Primal state.
It'd been a little over a month since Pepper's birthday, and I'd made minimal progress with the form, though I'd been able to make a few notes on it.
Super Saiyan Primal definitely strained my body, but not very badly, and it seemed to be more straining to get into and out of the form than the stress of keeping the form itself, because there wasn't a noticeable difference in fatigue between staying in it for three minutes or for my current limit of nine.
No, the real strain of the Super Saiyan Primal form was more mental, or rather, maybe spiritual. Every second that I spent in the form was like holding the sky with nothing but my mind. It had an irritating effect on my mental state.
It was like a constant pressure. If I tried to push it down, I'd lose the form, but ignoring it was just as bad, if not more so. It was best when I ignored it and simply moved. I could confidently say that the form was battle-ready, but truly mastering it was an entirely different beast. At this rate, it'd probably take me years.
But training that form wasn't why I'd come to Papaya Island.
As of yesterday, I'd noticed something strange. Gohan and Roshi had both left their homes. It'd taken me all afternoon to make a hypothesis as to why.
Then, I remembered something.
Before Goku showed up to the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament, they'd been doing it every five years. That was when he was twelve. They changed it to every three years following the excitement that year, and he competed again at the ages of 15 and 18. The next one after that was around ten years later, right before the Cell Games.
Right now, Goku's probably around 2. He'd be three, and I'd be seven, by the time Planet Vegeta is to be destroyed.
Which meant, within these three years of leeway, there'd be a World Martial Arts tournament. And I was pretty sure that, in the anime, Yamcha had once said something about Jackie Chun winning a previous title, years ago.
Why would Jackie Chun appear in a tournament? Only to test one of his students.
Not Ox King. He'd never finished his training. It was supposed to take 50 years, after all.
How old was Gohan? Between 60-80 at the time of his adoption of Goku would likely be a safe bet.
Perfect timing.
They were almost certain to both be in this tournament. After all, they were both on the island. There wasn't a single other possible reason for that.
Naturally, I didn't dare tell any others on my team what was going on. Instead, I abruptly blasted off with full power, at a speed that nobody else would possibly be able to keep up with. By the time they'd even be capable of following me, I'd already made it across the seas and begun suppressing my power to the limit. Even if they wanted to find me, they wouldn't be able to, so they'd eventually just give up and go home. No other choice.
Hopefully. I didn't like the idea of Pepper running loose.
Pushing my concerns to the back of my mind, I took a wandering stroll through town.
Signs for the 19th World Martial Arts tournament were everywhere, and all the shops were full to bursting. It honestly felt like a festival.
It seemed that the actual tournament was today. Gohan and Roshi had flown in last minute. Trailing their energies, I found the old men talking over by the sign-up desk.
Staring at a gaggle of young women, of course… Roshi… I rolled my eyes.
I actually considered signing up for the tournament myself for a moment, just for kicks, but decided against it in the end, in the name of keeping a low profile. I didn't particularly mind Roshi and Gohan knowing of my existence and strength, but I didn't like the idea of announcing it to any and all passers-by. Not just yet.
Unfortunately, not signing up for the tournament meant that I wasn't allowed to enter the tournament building, where the qualifying matches would happen. That irritated me, but there wasn't much I could do about it. Besides, they wouldn't be occurring right away. There were a few hours to kill, so I found myself walking from stall to stall in the city, tasting everything they had to offer.
I wasn't much of a fan of the Japanese sweets or the hard candy, but I ended up spending nearly 5,000 zeni on the cotton candy stand, severely cutting into what remained of the money I'd won back in East City…
I should probably have entered that tournament, I thought with a shrug.