Dragon Ball Roshi

The information within this stream of mental energy was vast, like the countless stars in the sky, beyond count. But upon further reflection, Taro realized that the countless shapes, lines, and gestures gradually converged into one, like an unwritten heavenly book. On its pure white pages, there were only two simple, clear characters:

"Meditation."

This technique had no name, for not all mystical methods are named. It was simply referred to as the "Meditation Technique," plain and unadorned, yet absolutely profound and mysterious. It was the ancient art passed down through generations of the Holy Mage lineage, the highest secret for cultivating spiritual power for magicians.

And today, it was taught to Taro.

For the future of this world, it was taught to the savior seen in prophetic dreams.

It was taught to an outsider… The Saint Magician knew he was gambling, but he hoped that, after betting everything, the result would be correct. If this world could be freed from its "predetermined" fate of destruction, then what would it matter if he had to give up his life?

In Taro's eyes, a faint dark light flickered. He stood motionless, his consciousness seemingly traveling into another dimension.

In that realm, beyond time, beyond reality and illusion, in that spiritual ocean, there sat, walked, and floated a group of holy-faced, benevolent, majestic, and indistinct figures—magicians.

They spoke cryptic incantations, formed intricate hand gestures, and used their fingers to draw mysterious magical symbols… Behind these incantations, gestures, and markings, Taro saw a vast spiritual ocean.

Meditation, meditation.

Swimming freely in the spiritual ocean.

After a moment, Taro slowly closed his eyes and sat cross-legged, his face calm and peaceful.

"I didn't expect him to enter meditation on his first try… Heh, my teacher once praised my talent, but now, I feel humbled, humbled..."

The Saint Magician sighed silently. He then glanced at the birds on Taro's shoulders and waved at them. However, the little ones completely ignored him, continuing to stay on Taro's shoulders, gently pecking at each other's feathers.

The old man smiled faintly, and from his amber-colored eyes, an invisible wave of energy seemed to flow out—

Almost simultaneously, his ethereal voice echoed directly in the birds' minds: "Little ones, don't disturb him. Come, follow me… I'll find you some food."

The old man waved again.

This time, the seven colorful-feathered birds obediently flew over, trying to keep their wingbeats as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Taro, who was deeply immersed in his meditation.

"Good children."

The seven birds settled on the Saint Magician's shoulders. The old man, using his powerful mental force, lifted his slender body and slowly floated toward the entrance of the massive cave.

As they were about to fly out of the cave, the Saint Magician hovered at the cave's mouth and glanced back.

In the center of the cave, on the high platform, Taro sat motionless, bathed in a beam of light that filtered through the circular opening above. The pale golden light illuminated most of his profile, giving him a serene, almost divine, appearance, as calm as the Buddha.

---

After a day and a half, Taro finally opened his eyes again.

When he opened them, a faint gleam of light seemed to flash in his eyes.

It was now deep into the night. Above, the one-meter diameter circular opening revealed the dark sky, with only a few flickering stars visible. A gentle starlight streamed in through the opening, and Taro seemed to be sitting in a misty, dreamlike haze.

In this lifetime, Taro had never felt his mind so light.

Because he did not possess chakra in this life, he always had to rely on his own, perhaps mutated, mental power to activate his Sharingan. As a result, the mental strain was incredibly heavy.

The more he pushed the limits of his eye techniques, the greater the mental burden on him.

But after this meditation, he could clearly feel that... his mental power's "limit" had indeed increased. He couldn't help but sigh inwardly, realizing that this so-called meditation method was very different from what he had encountered in many novels in his previous lives.

It wasn't about draining his mental energy and then relying on his own recovery to increase his mental power—Taro had already exhausted his mental energy countless times from using his eye techniques, but not once had it resulted in an increase in his mental limits. What followed were intense headaches and a growing reluctance to use his techniques.

It also wasn't about constructing things like calculus, nonsensical function curves, or wave-particle duality theories in his mind. In his first life, Taro had been just an ordinary young man. If it had been something like that, with no access to the vast resources of a university library, he surely would've failed miserably and never learned it.

The "Meditation Method" taught to him by the Holy Mage was the most different from any meditation method Taro had ever thought of for mages—its profundity was beyond description.

When practicing, it felt like being in a dream.

There was only a vague, instinctive feeling that guided his mind, like a small boat on the sea, cutting through the waves.

Taro even thought that if it weren't for the old magician personally teaching him this method, he never would have been able to learn this "Meditation Method." Even if this technique were broken down and explained in great detail, it would still be useless.

This was what true profundity was—mystical beyond comprehension, and not meant to be passed on.

In this regard, it was quite similar to his Muken.

Taro suddenly had this realization.

Back then, he had carefully taught the principles of Muken to his only disciple, Aragon. But after more than six years, Aragon still couldn't even enter the basic level.

This inability wasn't about Aragon being unable to use the Muken techniques that "amplified power," but rather that he could not truly wield the Muken in a way that every movement, every punch and kick, would contain the subtle "amplification" in it.

Strictly speaking, Muken wasn't something Taro "created."

It was derived from his eye techniques, and Taro merely translated the "skills" contained within the eye techniques into a martial art that fit the Dragon Ball world. It was an inherent power of the Mangekyou Sharingan, something he was born with, not something learned.

The process of Taro developing it into Muken was actually the same as learning the "eye techniques" in his eyes.

On the other hand, martial arts that had Muken-like effects already existed in the Dragon Ball world. Take "Kamehameha" or "Special Beam Cannon," for instance—they themselves had "power amplification" properties. They were already aligned with the principles of Muken.

As mentioned before, if Muken were considered a certificate, the "Special Beam Cannon" that quadrupled power would be equivalent to passing the fourth-level Muken.

The difference was that these ultimate techniques were simply breakthroughs in martial arts moves that happened to match the principles of Muken. The martial artists could not truly amplify their power in every aspect. They could only unleash the power through techniques that required "charging," which was still far from the true essence of Muken.

Later, seeing that Aragon truly couldn't learn Muken through his own will, Taro used his Mangekyou Sharingan to pass on some of his understanding of Muken to Aragon. Instantly, the boy "understood" and immediately grasped all the intricacies, mastering Muken.

And for decades afterward, Taro continued to ponder this question.

Why… couldn't Aragon enter the path of Muken without his "illusionary teachings"?

Eventually, he vaguely guessed that perhaps… this was the so-called "Dao."

Without seeing the "Dao," one wouldn't know the "Dao."

Only by truly seeing the "Dao" could one understand what the "Dao" was.

(Dao means "the way". Without seeing the way, you cannot follow it)

Muken was a path, and now the meditation method was also a path.

The reason he could know the "Dao" was that this path had already been sleeping within his cursed eyes in his previous world. It was only in this world that he had truly "taken" it out for the first time.

---

"How is it?" Ivan voice sounded from behind Taro.

Taro smiled slightly and whispered, "Not bad…" As he spoke, his black eyes gradually filled with a crimson hue, and soon, three black tomoe fused into two black four-pointed shurikens.

Maximum eye technique.

Thirty-two times.

One second, two seconds, three seconds… after a full twenty-four seconds, Taro's head throbbed painfully, and he quickly shut his eyes. A trace of black blood leaked from his eye sockets. When he reopened his eyes, they had returned to their original black pupils.

Clearly, there was progress!

Before, he could only maintain the maximum eye technique for a few seconds. Now, after just one meditation session, there was such a noticeable improvement… If he continued practicing for ten or twenty more years, he would surely be able to use the eye techniques freely.

And… since he had already wished for the ability to surpass the eternal Mangekyou Sharingan with the nine tomoe Rinnegan, that complete Susanoo was certainly within reach.

The full-body Susanoo, condensed into "armor," would undoubtedly be even stronger!

---

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