Dragon Ball Human

The finger pointing at the icon for Slope City on the map pulled back halfway along the route.

"Our home is roughly here," said the middle-aged man, pointing to a remote spot. "It's a small, out-of-the-way village, so it's not marked on your map, haha." He laughed heartily, radiating the straightforwardness of a simple man. "We can take the bear back home first, then drive you to Slope City."

"No need to drive me," Yamiru declined politely.

"Why not?" The man looked puzzled.

Yamiru almost explained that he was training and didn't want to take shortcuts or cheat. If he wanted to take the easy way out, he might as well rob some money, buy a planr, and fly straight to Mount Paozu. But what would be the point? Without enduring hardships and walking there himself, he might not even meet Gohan's standards for a student.

As he opened his mouth to respond, Yamiru realized he'd just told them he had amnesia. Quickly, he improvised, "I get terrible motion sickness. I throw up as soon as I sit in a vehicle."

The man looked surprised. "Never heard of that kind of illness!"

The boy tilted his head and remarked, "That's weird."

Yamiru grinned, unfazed, thinking, People with tails are the ones who are really weird.

The man and his nephew went to prepare the pickup truck.

Yamiru stayed outside, stretching his limbs and loosening up. Casually, he asked, "So, you had other reasons for going into the forest, right?"

"Yeah," the man replied as he started the truck.

"My dad and sister are missing…" The boy climbed into the passenger seat, his voice heavy. "We haven't heard from them in days."

Yamiru shifted his weight, stretching his ankle, and asked, "Didn't you contact the police? Why would you come into such a dangerous forest to look for them alone?"

The man sighed. "We've searched everywhere nearby, but no one knows where my brother and his daughter are. I already contacted the police in Slope City, but they haven't found anything either. This is my last resort—searching the forest where my brother sometimes hunts, hoping for a miracle." He patted the boy's head. "And this kid insisted on coming with me, no matter what."

Yamiru hesitated. "So…"

The man caught his hesitation and waved dismissively. "I've realized it's hopeless. Without someone like my brother, an experienced hunter, or someone skilled like you, surviving in a dangerous forest like this is impossible, especially with a kid in tow. Sigh… We're heading back. We'll just wait for the police to find something about my brother and niece."

"I'm sorry," Yamiru said sincerely. "I've been wandering in the forest for days, but I haven't seen anyone."

The man nodded, gripped the steering wheel, and started the truck.

Yamiru moved his foot and lightly jogged to keep pace with the truck.

At first, the middle-aged man drove slowly, mindful of Yamiru's pace.

"Go faster, it's fine!" Yamiru shouted from outside the window.

\---

Twenty minutes later.

The boy in the passenger seat was staring wide-eyed out the window. Yamiru was sprinting at an incredible speed.

To the boy, this must be the fastest anyone could run, an all-out sprint at the limit. Yet, from his vantage point in the truck, Yamiru appeared almost stationary. Other than the rapid movement of his arms and legs, his torso remained perfectly aligned with the center of the window's frame.

"If it were me, I'd be exhausted just from swinging my arms that fast." the boy thought, dumbfounded.

The middle-aged man, seated at the wheel, was even more shocked.

When Yamiru refused to get into the truck earlier, saying he would run on foot, the man had planned to have a laugh when Yamiru inevitably got tired and needed a ride.

But now, after twenty minutes of driving at 50 km/h, the kid outside hadn't fallen behind even a step. What's more, he didn't even look strained.

Is he even human? Oh, right—this is the ten-year-old boy who killed a bear with his bare hands. Of course, he's not human! The man realized once again how deceiving Yamiru's harmless, childlike appearance was. Beneath the innocent exterior lay strength more ferocious than a bear's, and apparently, the stamina of a long-distance machine.

"Amazing!" the man exclaimed.

"Don't worry about me! Just keep going full speed back home! I'll follow your tire tracks!" Yamiru shouted in rhythm as he ran, ensuring his voice carried over the wind. His training was personal and shouldn't inconvenience others.

The man leaned out the window and called back, "Just go straight ahead; you'll reach a village. When you see my truck parked, that's where we live!"

Yamiru nodded, prompting the man to step on the gas, increasing the distance between them.

Yamiru didn't force himself to accelerate. Long-distance running wasn't the same as sprinting; suddenly increasing his speed would only throw off his rhythm and waste energy. He maintained a pace he was comfortable and accustomed to.

Following the truck's tire tracks, Yamiru continued forward.

When his thoughts began to drift, Yamiru forced himself to focus, just as he had trained himself to do during his days in the forest. It was a conscious exercise in sharpening his mental concentration. He remembered his school days in his past life, when he would often procrastinate. If he went too long without studying, he found it difficult to focus. His mind would wander after just a few lines, and he'd end up staring into space or even dozing off.

But in this life, Yamiru knew that every bit of self-improvement would form the foundation of his future strength.

He still didn't know the intricacies of martial arts, but becoming a better version of himself was always a step in the right direction.

"Whew\... whew\..."

Running at 50 km/h, Yamiru was like a human motorbike.

From a bird's-eye view, however, the vast wilderness made him look like a tiny ant trudging forward. The journey was long, but he continued steadily and relentlessly.

---

The man and his nephew returned to their home—technically, the man's brother's house—with the bear's carcass.

With tools in hand, the man spent the next hour processing the bear. He carefully skinned it, trying to preserve the pelt as much as possible, stacked the meat, and sorted the bones and internal organs.

While not an expert hunter, the man often helped his brother prepare game and was a skilled cook.

By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat.

"That big brother didn't seem as tired as you when he killed the bear!" The boy handed him a bowl of water, teasing him.

The man chose not to argue. He'll understand when he's older. Some people are just on a whole different level, no matter what.

Not long after, the uncle and nephew saw Yamiru running from the village entrance.

"Unbelievable... he hasn't slowed down at all," the man muttered, mimicking a faint prayer. "So young, so strong, and he prefers running over riding in a car. What a strange kid!"

"He's singing, I think," the boy said, his sharp ears catching a faint tune. However, by the time Yamiru reached them, all the boy could make out was a fiery blur barreling toward the house. Instinctively, the boy stepped back in awe. "You're dripping with sweat… and so burning!" he exclaimed, staring at Yamiru in astonishment.

"Whew\... whew\..."

Yamiru's chest heaved, his breathing heavy and labored. His face was pale, and sweat poured down his body as if he'd been caught in a rainstorm. His skin was flushed red from the heat, and faint wisps of steam rose from the top of his head.

The man noticed that Yamiru's breathing stabilized surprisingly quickly. After pacing in circles for a bit, he seemed fully recovered.

"A monster…" The man had lost count of how many times he'd said it by now.

"Do you have water?" Yamiru asked, slightly embarrassed, licking his dry lips.

The boy quickly brought out a bowl of clear water. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Yamiru took the bowl and gulped it down in one go. Refreshing!

Back in Nandu, his regular morning runs never left him this thirsty—whether he drank water afterward or not didn't matter. But this time, the distance was double, and it was his first time running this far without stopping. Even someone like Yamiru felt parched.

The boy, holding the empty bowl, asked curiously, "What song were you singing earlier?"

"Eminem's song. Perfect for running!" Yamiru replied casually. "But the lyrics are hard to remember, so I was just humming nonsense."

Monster, thought the middle-aged man, shaking his head. How can someone run like that and still have the energy to sing?

"If you're heading to Slope City, why not go with us tomorrow?" the man offered, wanting to invite Yamiru to stay the night and share a meal. "An intact bear is worth a fortune. We'll just take a portion of the meat, and you can sell the rest—the skin, meat, and bones—when we go to Slope City. If you're planning to go to that place marked on the map..."

He glanced at Yamiru's outfit: animal-hide top, snakeskin belt, tattered track pants, and grass-woven sandals, carrying absolutely nothing else. Carefully, he added, "You'll need some money to buy supplies."

Yamiru had been wondering how to earn money, so he readily agreed. "That'd be great. Thanks."

That evening, Yamiru sat down for his first shared meal in the Dragon Ball world.

When he picked up the bowl, he froze, staring at it for a long moment.

"What's wrong?" the middle-aged man asked, noticing Yamiru's dazed expression.

Yamiru smiled awkwardly. "It's nothing. Just… I can't remember the last time I had a meal with family."

The boy, gnawing on a piece of bear meat with oil all over his face, joked, "That's because you've lost your memory!"

"True."

Yamiru started eating as well, shoveling rice into his mouth and tearing into a chunk of bear meat with gusto.

After the meal, he went to bed. The past few days of exhaustion caught up to him, but the soft bed felt strangely unfamiliar after his time in the wilderness.

Still, his mental focus training seemed to be paying off. Concentrating on his desire to sleep, Yamiru eventually drifted off. However, the boy's restless legs kept kicking Yamiru in the face, waking him repeatedly throughout the night.

At 4:50 a.m., Yamiru woke up on time.

He stepped outside. Under the faint starlight, the small, remote village was utterly tranquil.

Since he planned to resume his run to Slope City later, Yamiru decided not to exert himself with his usual morning workout. Instead, he wandered leisurely around the village, exploring its quiet streets.

As he strolled, he found himself recalling the mysterious old man's slow movements while practicing martial arts in the park back in Nandu.

"How did he do it? Slow and steady like this, right?"

Yamiru imitated the old man's style in an open space within the village, experimenting with the slow, deliberate movements. His antics drew the attention of a few village dogs, who barked furiously at him. Yamiru fixed them with his piercing gaze, and the dogs quickly scattered.

"I wonder how people feel when they look into my eyes. Do they think I'm cool—or just scary?"