📖 CHAPTER 17 – The Weight of the Shell
Morning on the island arrived without ceremony.
No alarms.
No city noise.
Just waves brushing sand and seabirds cutting across the sky.
The pink house of Master Roshi stood quiet under the rising sun, its windows catching gold light. The palm tree beside it swayed lazily, leaves whispering against one another.
And in the middle of the beach—
Two boys stood bent slightly under the weight of turtle shells.
Goku wobbled first.
"This thing's crazy heavy!"
He adjusted the straps digging into his shoulders, knees flexing as he tried to steady himself. The shell forced his center of gravity backward. He leaned too far forward to compensate and nearly tipped face-first into the sand.
Roshi didn't help.
He simply folded his arms.
I tightened the straps across my chest and let the weight settle.
It was heavier than it looked. Dense. Compact. Designed to drag posture down and disrupt balance. With my base strength reduced from reverting fully to human form, the burden was pronounced.
But it wasn't overwhelming.
It was instructive.
I inhaled slowly and lowered my stance half an inch, letting my hips carry more of the load instead of my spine. My breathing deepened. Muscles adapted to tension.
Roshi's sunglasses shifted slightly as he watched.
"Hmm."
Goku took a step.
Sand sprayed.
He stumbled again—then grinned like it was a game.
"This is awesome!"
Roshi tapped his cane against the sand.
"Training begins now. First task—run around the island ten times."
Goku's eyes widened.
"With this on?!"
"Of course," Roshi replied calmly.
Goku laughed and bolted forward anyway.
His first few strides were chaotic. The shell bounced slightly against his back, throwing off rhythm. But within seconds, his natural athleticism compensated. He adjusted stride length. Leaned forward more aggressively. Found momentum.
I followed at a controlled pace.
The shell pressed down through my shoulders, forcing stabilizer muscles to engage more actively. Each step required precision. If I wasted motion, I would bleed energy unnecessarily.
The sand transitioned to packed earth near the tree line. Roots and uneven terrain tested footing.
Ahead, Goku vaulted over a fallen trunk without slowing.
I didn't jump.
I shortened my steps, placed my foot against the trunk's curve, redirected momentum upward and over in one smooth motion.
Less vertical waste.
More efficient carry-through.
By the third lap, Goku was sweating heavily.
By the third lap, my breathing had increased—but remained steady.
By the fourth, Goku slowed slightly.
"Man… this thing's… heavier than it looks…"
He grinned through the strain.
I felt fatigue rising in my legs.
And then—
It stabilized.
My stamina didn't simply drain linearly. It recovered in small increments even while under stress. Micro-recovery. Rapid metabolic cycling. My body recycled strain faster than a normal human's would.
Roshi's gaze sharpened.
He noticed.
By the sixth lap, Goku pushed himself again, teeth grit, forcing speed through sheer will.
I matched his pace briefly, then maintained my own rhythm when he surged ahead.
Not competing.
Adapting.
When we finished the tenth lap, Goku collapsed onto the sand, breathing hard but laughing.
"That was great!"
I remained standing.
Breathing heavier than before.
But stable.
Roshi walked up slowly.
"You're tired," he said to Goku.
"Yeah!"
He turned to me.
"And you?"
"Fatigued," I replied honestly.
"But not exhausted."
Roshi's smile faded slightly—not in disapproval, but curiosity.
He crouched unexpectedly and pressed two fingers lightly against my forearm.
I didn't flinch.
His touch was brief. Measuring.
"Your ki output isn't much higher than Goku's right now," he murmured.
"That is correct."
"But your body… recovers faster."
Goku lifted his head from the sand. "Huh?"
Roshi stood.
"You two are similar in energy. But not in structure."
His cane tapped against my shin lightly.
"Dense muscle fibers. Efficient circulation. Minimal waste in movement. You're not burning through stamina the way most people would under that load."
I said nothing.
He smiled faintly.
"You were born with a strong frame."
"Perhaps."
He shook his head.
"Not perhaps. Definitely."
Goku sat up fully now, interested.
"So he's built different?"
Roshi chuckled.
"Yes. But don't misunderstand. Natural gifts don't replace hard work."
"I know," I said.
And I meant it.
Strength without refinement was crude.
Roshi nodded once, satisfied with the tone of my answer.
---
Midday Chores
Training did not end with running.
It shifted.
Milk delivery across the island's nearby villages. Farming assistance. Construction labor. Swimming against tide currents.
Always with the shell.
Goku approached everything like it was an adventure. He raced villagers. Carried extra crates just to prove he could. Fell into a river once and came up laughing.
I observed.
I adapted.
When carrying crates of milk, I adjusted grip to reduce forearm fatigue. When swimming, I angled my strokes to minimize drag from the shell's curvature.
But Roshi noticed something else.
During a break, while Goku lay sprawled under the palm tree eating rice, I remained upright, finishing my portion before stepping aside to stretch.
No trembling muscles.
No collapse.
Fatigue existed—but it didn't dominate.
Roshi walked over again.
"You should be more tired."
"I am tired."
He tilted his head.
"But you recover quickly."
"Yes."
"Does it always happen?"
"Yes."
He hummed thoughtfully.
"That kind of stamina… it's rare. Even among trained martial artists."
Goku waved a chopstick in the air.
"He was fighting me forever yesterday too!"
Roshi looked between us.
"Is that so?"
I nodded once.
"We both sustained high output."
"And you didn't slow much."
"No."
Roshi chuckled softly.
"Well. That explains some things."
He leaned back in his beach chair.
"Strong body. Fast recovery. Stable ki."
His smile sharpened slightly.
"But I wonder…"
He pointed his cane toward me.
"How much of that strength is instinct—and how much is discipline?"
The question wasn't accusatory.
It was probing.
I answered without hesitation.
"Instinct initiates. Discipline refines."
Roshi's grin widened.
"Good answer."
---
Afternoon Sparring
Later, without warning, Roshi attacked.
Not full power.
But fast.
His cane swung toward Goku first.
Goku reacted late—barely ducking in time.
The cane reversed direction instantly toward me.
I shifted my weight and angled my torso just enough for it to pass.
Roshi increased speed.
Footwork sharp. Compact. Efficient.
Even with the shell on, I tracked his centerline, not his limbs. His hips telegraphed direction changes milliseconds before his shoulders did.
He struck again—this time lower.
I lifted my knee, absorbing the impact against the shell's lower edge rather than my thigh.
Smart.
He pivoted behind me.
I rotated smoothly to keep him within view.
No wasted motion.
Goku jumped back in, attacking wildly.
Roshi parried him with casual ease, laughing.
"Control! Balance!"
He feinted high at me, then swept low.
My footing slipped slightly in the sand.
He caught that.
The cane tapped my ankle sharply.
I fell to one knee.
Not hard.
But clean.
Roshi stepped back.
"Even strong bodies lose balance."
I stood immediately.
And Roshi noticed something again.
No lingering stagger.
No slow recovery.
My breathing spiked briefly—
Then normalized within seconds.
He narrowed his eyes behind the lenses.
"Fascinating."
Goku blinked. "What?"
Roshi pointed his cane toward me again.
"Your stamina rebounds almost instantly after impact."
"It does?" Goku asked.
"Yes."
He faced me directly now.
"You're operating at roughly the same ki level as Goku right now. But your physical endurance exceeds what that level usually supports."
I held his gaze.
"That is accurate."
He laughed suddenly.
"Well! That just makes things more interesting!"
He turned toward the ocean.
"Which means I'll have to push you harder."
Goku leapt up excitedly.
"Yeah!"
Roshi glanced over his shoulder.
"But remember this."
His tone shifted—less playful.
"Natural strength can make you confident."
His eyes met mine.
"But only humility makes you grow."
"I understand."
He studied my expression for a long moment.
Then nodded.
"Good."
---
Sunset Reflection
That evening, the sky burned orange over the water.
Goku snored lightly in the sand, utterly drained at last.
I stood near the tide again.
Fatigue lingered—but manageable.
My body repaired microtears rapidly. Heart rate steady. Energy cycling upward gradually.
Thirty percent reduced strength from my armored state.
Yet even weakened—
I was advancing.
Behind me, Roshi spoke quietly.
"You don't seem frustrated by limits."
"I am not."
"Why?"
"Limits define the direction of growth."
He smiled faintly.
"Most fighters hate feeling weaker."
"I do not hate it."
Roshi folded his arms.
"You'll go far," he said.
Then he added casually—
"But you're not the strongest one here."
I looked at him.
He grinned mischievously.
"Not yet, anyway."
Waves rolled in.
Wind shifted.
Training had only begun.
And somewhere deep inside my muscles—
Strength was building.
Not explosively.
Not arrogantly.
But steadily.
Like the tide.