📖 CHAPTER 22 – The Anomaly's Progress
The next morning, the sun rose pale and warm over the island, streaking gold across the gentle waves. The air smelled of salt and pine, the breeze carrying the faint rhythm of distant birds. The sand, still damp from last night's tide, clung to bare feet as we gathered for training.
Master Roshi was already outside, arms crossed, the familiar turtle shell strapped to his back. His gaze scanned the group with scrutiny. "Today, we push beyond limits. Not just strength, not just speed… control. That's what separates the novice from the master."
Goku practically vibrated in anticipation. Krillin, still trying to catch up after yesterday's late arrival, tightened his stance and watched the waves, calculating the rhythm of the island as if predicting the day itself.
I stood slightly apart, barefoot in the sand. Base form only—no wings, no exoskeleton. Thirty percent weaker than my augmented self, but the difference felt like a filter refining every motion. My body still responded with rapid recovery; muscles that had absorbed apex predators now absorbed fatigue with ease. Breathing was even, unhurried, energy flowing in quiet pulses through every limb. Roshi's eyes flicked at me, adjusting his sunglasses, eyebrows raised slightly.
"Hmm… still remarkable," he muttered, almost to himself. "Recovery… efficiency… balance… extraordinary. Even now, without enhancements. Body responding as if it were born for combat."
Blue Launch appeared at the edge of the clearing, carrying a small tray of water and fruits. Her soft presence seemed to calm the breeze around her. Blonde Launch followed a few steps behind, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, though the faint twitch of her lips betrayed subtle curiosity.
Roshi clapped his hands together. "First drill—stamina and awareness. You three, follow me. Sand sprints, lateral shifts, sudden resistance. And no shortcuts."
Goku jumped forward eagerly. Krillin hesitated, then followed. I moved last, my stride measured. Every motion felt precise, grounded in instinct rather than thought. The sand yielded under my feet, muscles adjusting perfectly to the uneven terrain. Even with my weakened base, my body absorbed the strain, energy recovery near instantaneous.
The sprint began. Goku shot forward like a blur, feet barely touching the sand. Krillin tried to keep pace, arms pumping, sweat forming already. I followed, flowing around every natural obstacle—the drift of the tide, the uneven ridges of sand, small stones scattered across the beach. My motion wasn't fastest in raw distance, but it was controlled, balanced, and energy-efficient.
Midway, Roshi summoned a gust of wind, lifting grains of sand into a miniature whirlwind. "Adjust!" he shouted. Goku nearly stumbled but caught himself with instinct. Krillin faltered slightly. I shifted my center of gravity, adjusting hip torque and limb placement in a single fluid motion. My recovery was immediate; fatigue didn't accumulate. Roshi's note-taking hand paused, pen hovering.
"Efficiency unmatched… even compared to Goku," he muttered. "Observing subtle muscle contractions… correct balance under load… remarkable."
After the sprint, we paused for a moment, letting the wind dry sweat. Krillin wiped his brow, glaring at me briefly. "You… don't seem tired at all."
I nodded calmly. "Energy conserved. Body adapts."
Blue Launch offered water. Her fingers brushed mine slightly as I took the cup. The faint contact made the hairs along my arms stand up subtly. She smiled softly, eyes lingering longer than polite. Blonde Launch, noticing, sneezed sharply and muttered, "Tch… trying to outshine everyone, huh?"
The next exercise was cooperative. Roshi tossed a weighted log down the beach. "Lift. Move. Balance. Coordination. Work together."
Goku and Krillin grabbed ends. I approached the middle, distributing weight with a perfect stance. My movements were methodical; the log barely flexed beneath my grip. Krillin struggled, tilting the log incorrectly, almost losing control. I adjusted subtly, repositioning his hands without a word.
"Like this," I said calmly, shifting the log in a fluid motion. "Force directed, not wasted. Balance distributed."
Krillin's eyes widened. He tried again, this time lifting cleanly. The log moved forward. "Whoa… that's… way easier when done like that," he said, panting.
Blue Launch's eyes sparkled. "He… he teaches as well as he fights."
Blonde Launch's sneezed again, muttering something like, "Ugh… still irritatingly good at everything…" Yet the tension in her posture betrayed attention and interest.
Roshi stepped closer, watching intently. "Notice how he recovers between exertion almost immediately? Look at his stance. No wasted motion. Muscles reacting to stress as if pre-emptively… hmm. Anomaly, indeed. Goku and Krillin—learn from his precision."
The afternoon was filled with sparring drills. Goku moved first, rushing with raw energy, throwing strikes and kicks with playful intensity. I flowed with him—not analyzing each move, but reading rhythm, flow, and energy as if I were one with the fight. Every pivot, jump, and adjustment felt natural. Stamina barely dipped. Each exchange was a conversation of motion.
Krillin joined soon after, testing both of us. He tried to interject, learned angles and positions, and improved with each pass. I guided subtly, adjusting the momentary openings and redirecting force, not to dominate, but to allow the exercise to scale properly.
Master Roshi scribbled notes furiously. "Efficiency… recovery… control… remarkable… extraordinary. Even in base form, his body outpaces Goku's in sustained engagement. Anomaly indeed…"
Even the girls observed carefully. Blue Launch followed every movement with bright eyes. Blonde Launch's sneezes punctuated her silent scrutiny, but the way she mimicked minor adjustments betrayed fascination, respect, and perhaps something more personal growing between her and the anomaly.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Goku, Krillin, and I gathered near the waterline. Glistening in the gold light, muscles still warm and flowing, the sand imprinting the shapes of our bodies, Roshi observed, smiling faintly.
"Today, you three learned cooperation, adaptation, and stamina management. And…" he glanced at me, "for someone your age—or anyone—your control and recovery are… unlike anything I've seen. Continue this, and you will exceed normal limits quickly."
The waves lapped gently at our feet, carrying the scent of salt and adventure. Blue Launch approached, carrying a towel. She handed it to me with a soft smile. Blonde Launch followed, muttering but lingering, eyes watching every motion.
Goku laughed, turning to me. "Tomorrow, let's see if you can keep up with both of us at once!"
I nodded calmly, watching the horizon. "I will."
The anomaly on Master Roshi's island was no longer simply a student. He was a force quietly reshaping the rhythm of training, relationships, and the future of combat itself. Bonds were forming, respect earned, and even the smallest shifts—a glance, a smile, a shared motion—hinted at connections deeper than martial skill alone.
The currents of the island had shifted again, subtly, but irreversibly. The next phase of training promised both challenge and growth, and the anomaly was ready.
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