Dragon Ball Roshi

This conjecture was somewhat base, leaving Taro with a sense of shame.

And yet, his lingering doubts refused to fade.

In times of disaster, even gods struggle to maintain composure.

"If it's not that... then why hasn't Taro returned? Thirty years have passed. He's been training with King Kai for three decades now. What has become of him?"

Suddenly—

"Fortune Teller Baba?" Mr. Popo's voice echoed from behind.

Fortune-telling?

Taro turned sharply. As expected, there sat Fortune Teller Baba, dressed in a black robe and pointed black wizard's hat, perched atop her crystal ball.

"I've been observing Earth's plight even from the Other World." she said gravely. "There is someone who can help you resolve this crisis… Follow me."

A wave of suspicion flashed across Taro's mind. "Could it be…?"

After a moment of deliberation, he gave Mr. Popo some final instructions before vanishing alongside Baba from the Lookout.

"Guardian… you must save Earth." Even the usually impassive Mr. Popo displayed a trace of worry on his face.

---

Not far from where the Demon warrior had taken Piccolo away—

Hidden behind the ruins of a collapsed wall, Tsuru, his white hair now streaked with age, clung to the cracked surface, his face pale with fear. He suppressed his ki to its utmost limits, not daring to release even the faintest wisp.

"Piccolo?! He's been freed?!"

"And that other energy… It's even more malevolent, even more terrifying than Piccolo Daimao! What is going on? Where did these powerful demons come from?!"

As the overwhelming auras of one strong and one weak presence faded into the distance, Tsuru finally exhaled shakily. Bitter laughter escaped his lips as he thought about how he had just referred to the once-dreaded Piccolo Daimao as weak.

This truly was despair.

"Taro… You've been silent all these years. You're not at the Muten school dojo, nor at Mutaito's mountain. Where on Earth have you gone?"

Tsuru murmured softly, casting a glance toward the direction the Demon warrior and Piccolo Daimao had disappeared. His expression shifted from despair to a complex mixture of relief and dread. Finally, his face fell blank, numb with uncertainty. After standing in place for some time, he turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

---

On the planet Yardrat,

Above the icy peaks of Mount Pils, the wind howled through the frozen air.

Taro sat cross-legged in mid-air, eyes closed and meditative.

Suddenly, his consciousness stirred.

Swish, swish!

Two white streams of ki shot forth from his body, forming humanoid shapes that resembled stick figures made of light—two ki avatars, crafted with Taro's mastery over energy manipulation.

The two ki avatars clapped their hands together in synchronization, neither budging an inch. Their power was perfectly balanced, equally matched, and locked in eternal stalemate.

One of the ki avatars suddenly solidified further, its form becoming more robust, its power doubling as its energy surged. With a powerful strike, it scattered its counterpart into a shower of radiant white particles.

Yet the scattered avatar quickly reformed amidst the icy wind, its energy surging past its counterpart, its form even more defined. Lines of intricate patterns appeared on its surface, bringing it closer to resembling a human figure.

It wasted no time, retaliating with a thunderous palm strike. Boom! This time, the other avatar was the one dispersed.

Dispersed and reformed, growing stronger with each iteration, they continued to clash. One would scatter the other, only to be scattered in turn, with each successive reformation making them exponentially more powerful.

In mere moments, they had exchanged dozens of blows mid-air. The intensity of their energy had multiplied several-fold, their once amorphous forms now nearly indistinguishable from human bodies, save for the lack of facial features.

This was Taro applying the principles of Susano'o to his technique of shaping ki.

The human body was a marvel of structure, and Taro's ki manipulation simulated the distribution of muscles and bones, mirroring the techniques and movements of a human fighter. This was a feat of extraordinary precision, achievable only by a martial artist with profound understanding of their body and ki.

"You're becoming harder and harder to comprehend." North Kai's voice echoed across the peaks of Mount Pils.

Taro's eyes slowly opened, revealing the swirling pattern of the Nine Tomoe Rinnegan. As his gaze fully settled, the rippling tomoe vanished, leaving his eyes their usual jet-black.

Deprived of the sustaining energy, the two ki avatars dissipated into the wind, their forms scattering into nothingness.

"King Kai, how long have I been here?" Taro asked calmly.

"Counting the eight years you've spent on Yardrat, it's been nearly thirty years altogether. Why? Thinking of returning to Earth?" North Kai replied, already guessing Taro's intent.

"Thirty years… huh…"

Taro's voice held a trace of melancholy. He was about to say more when he sensed a faint presence abruptly appear behind him. Shaking his head, he turned.

A young Yardratian had materialized in mid-air behind Taro, clearly exhausted. His ki was so depleted that he couldn't maintain his flight. Panicking, the young man began to plummet toward the ground.

The wind roared past him as he fell, arms and legs flailing in terror. "Aaaaaaaah!"

At that moment, a piercing cry of a bird resounded through the sky.

Whoosh!

A phoenix, its feathers glowing like embers, soared against the icy wind. In a flash, it dived beneath the falling Yardratian, catching him on its broad, fiery back just before he hit the ground.

The young Yardratian, barely avoiding a deadly crash, wiped the sweat from his brow and chuckled nervously. "Thanks… really appreciate it…"

The phoenix let out a low, melodic trill, as if acknowledging the gratitude, its fiery wings gently lifting them back into the air.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Your Instant Transmission is still immature. Stop using it so recklessly." Taro said, his voice calm but firm.

Newt, looking frustrated, replied with a bitter smile, "But Uncle Taro, if I don't practice it frequently, how am I supposed to perfect it?" He sighed. "Besides, I can only use Instant Transmission when I sense someone else's ki. Compared to you, I'm far behind."

Although Taro appeared youthful, the stark difference in appearance between Earthlings and Yardratians, combined with the fact that Taro and Newt's father—the leader of the Yardratian tribe—were peers, led Newt to address him as "Uncle."

Taro studied the young Yardratian.

Eight years ago, Taro had shared the technique of Instant Transmission with the tribe leader. While the elder struggled to master it, his young son showed a natural talent. By making adjustments and embracing a less rigid approach, Newt eventually developed his own version of the technique. However, it came with limitations—he could only teleport by locking onto another being's ki.

Newt's version also consumed significant stamina and energy, and his strength was fairly ordinary, around 160 at most. His repeated experiments with Instant Transmission often left him utterly exhausted, and occasionally transported him to awkward or even dangerous locations, much to his embarrassment.

"Perhaps in the original story, Son Goku learned Instant Transmission from Newt or one of his descendants." Taro mused silently. "The Yardratians were nearly wiped out by the primitive Saiyans, and when Son Goku arrived here, the Saiyan tail—his defining trait—had long been removed by the Guardian, making it impossible for the Yardratians to recognize his lineage..."

Taro leapt lightly onto the phoenix's back, standing behind Newt. "Let's go. Time to return."

In a flash, the two and the phoenix vanished.

---

Inside a cave, Ivan, the Saint Mage, and the Yardratian tribe leader stood together, bidding farewell to Taro.

"Are you really leaving, Uncle Taro? Will you come back someday?" Newt asked, his voice tinged with reluctance, as he stood beside his father.

Taro stood at the cave's entrance, the phoenix circling gracefully in the sky beyond. He glanced at the trio and smiled faintly. "I will." He nodded to the Saint Mage and the tribe leader. "Farewell for now."

The Saint Mage sighed. "We've yet to properly thank you for saving our planet."

"But your planet was destroyed regardless," Taro replied, shaking his head. "Besides, I've gained much from you as well. Let's call it even."

The Saint Mage met Taro's gaze, and they both smiled—a silent acknowledgment of their bond forged over more than twenty years as both teacher and friend.

"Goodbye."

"If fate allows, I'll visit again."

Taro stepped backward, gliding out of the cave. The bright sunlight bathed him as memories flashed before his eyes: Snake Way, King Kai's Planet, Namek, barren high-gravity worlds, mystical planets, and Yardrat...

And the faces of those he'd encountered: the Namekians, the fallen Guardian Gaia, the eccentric scientist Fabeli, Ivan, Frieza's Gemini underlings, the tyrant Frieza himself, and the mysterious Yardratians with their unique abilities.

"It's time to go home."

The phoenix swooped down from above, and Taro landed gracefully on its fiery back. The wind surged as man and bird vanished into the horizon.

---

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