In the span of a single breath—at that split-second of crisis where everything slowed down—Illip's heart pounded furiously.
Fourfold Muken!
He jerked his neck with all his might, and Goku's blazing fist grazed past his skin. The violent gust from the punch was so fierce that it stung Illip's flesh. In that fleeting moment of near contact, their gazes met. Illip saw Goku's eyes—what kind of eyes were those? Filled with fighting spirit, excitement, and intense self-confidence. Even in a battle where victory and defeat would be decided in a breath, Illip couldn't help but admire him deep inside.
Just like five years ago.
This child… truly was born for martial arts, born for battle, born to grow stronger.
But…
I'm not someone who gives up so easily!
Illip roared wildly. Goku's raging battle spirit had infected him too, his blood surging. After dodging, he didn't pause for a second and immediately retaliated. At the same time, Goku also unleashed the full extent of his power. So exhilarated was he that his aura surged to an even greater height, growing more intense with each passing moment!
The essence of martial arts lies in the spirit of the heart.
From the stands, Taro watched quietly, a thought flickering in his mind.
If the "modern martial artists" who used Muken—amplified by the doubling effect his eyes granted—were like precise and disciplined "scientists," then someone like Goku, who instinctively merged with his ki in battle, drawing forth unbelievable strength from deep within his soul, was more like a passionate and creative "artist."
Science is repeatable theory—once you understand the principles, you can apply it however you wish. Just like the Muken: once you master it, whether it's twofold, fourfold, or more, as long as your stamina allows, you can maintain multiple times your base combat power at will.
But Goku… art requires inspiration—meaning opportunity. Only in battles like this, that truly stir Goku's soul… only when facing powerful foes… does he erupt again and again with astonishing strength.
Perhaps…
The former is the skeleton of transcending limits—its divinity. But the latter… the latter is the soul of transcending limits—its essence.
Taro fell into contemplation.
Goku… how far will you go? How strong will you become in the future?
And what about Kakarot…?
As these thoughts passed through his mind, the deep eyes behind Taro's sunglasses slowly shut, letting his focus shift entirely to his sharp spiritual sense. His mind observed the blazing, humanoid flame on the ring that was Goku's ki. The fire was pure, unified, and burning ever brighter.
This guy… he's insane!
In the spiritual realm, Kakarot could sharply sense it—his other self, Goku, was undergoing some kind of transformation. Kakarot couldn't comprehend the changes happening to Goku's body, mind, and ki.
How is this possible? How could he suddenly explode with such overwhelming power? How can a warrior's strength evolve like this? It doesn't make sense!
Is this why you chose him instead of me, old man Taro?
Why…? This has never happened before… Damn it! I only remember that we Saiyans gain a huge boost in power after surviving the brink of death, but Goku hasn't even experienced that lately! I just don't get it!
Whatever… it's so hot… I'm going back to sleep!
---
"Unbelievable! Simply unbelievable! Contestant Goku, even when in such a disadvantageous position, erupted with an astonishing surge of power! What on earth is going on?! Let's hear the thoughts of our special guest commentator, Master XXX…"
The TV broadcast cut away to the studio. The announcer, who had been narrating offscreen, turned with a smile to an elderly man beside him—a martial arts grandmaster, clearly seasoned and wise, with kind eyes and a calm demeanor. Upon hearing the question, he answered smoothly, providing steady and well-balanced analysis.
"Is it really… that amazing?" Yajirobe muttered under his breath.
The broadcast replayed the high-speed camera close-ups of Goku's face from just moments ago, and those eyes—brimming with an unshakable fighting spirit—kept surfacing in Yajirobe's mind. He felt deeply shaken.
He gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist, thinking to himself that… maybe giving this whole martial arts thing a try wouldn't be so bad.
"But if I do that, I won't be able to focus all my energy on swordsmanship anymore!" the chubby boy muttered, troubled. He scratched his messy hair, his gaze involuntarily drifting toward the little girl at the front of the crowd, the one no one dared to bump into. For a moment, he still couldn't make up his mind.
Chi-Chi's eyes sparkled with stars as she recalled the heroic figure of the young Goku. Holding her cheeks in her hands, she sighed, "So cool…"
Cool… huh…
Yajirobe pinched his chubby chin and fell silent.
Right then, the next match was about to begin, with barely a pause between rounds. Yajirobe stayed where he was to continue watching, when suddenly his eyes widened and he exclaimed in surprise, "Isn't that guy… that little bald kid from Orin Temple?"
---
"You were amazing, Goku!" Krillin ran over to help the exhausted Goku. The little bald monk was full of praise.
Goku chuckled and said, "He was really strong!" As he spoke, he shook the wristbands in his hand. He didn't dare put them back on yet—he was completely spent. Better to wait until he regained some strength.
"Well, it's lucky it was you who ran into him… If it had been me, I'd probably have lost!" Krillin said, relieved. He knew his own strength couldn't compare to Goku's, and since Goku had struggled so hard against that Illip guy, he could only imagine what would've happened if it had been him up there.
Yamcha stood behind them, still dumbfounded from the match.
"Well then, I guess I'm up next!" Krillin helped Goku to the rest area, then clenched his fists, eager to get in the ring.
---
To celebrate Goku and Krillin's smooth advancement and their upcoming journey to Sayuan City for the World Finals, Bulma threw open the doors to her home and invited Goku, Krillin, Yamcha, and Puar over for a feast and two days of fun and relaxation.
Taro and Hathaway gladly came along too, watching the younger generation laugh and play. Hathaway and Dr. Briefs got deep into a conversation about topics Taro couldn't understand—presumably research-related. As for Taro, he preferred solitude. He wandered through the vast gardens of Bulma's home, breathing in sync with the trees, flowers, birds, and the Earth itself.
"What a shame, Yamcha. You were so close to making it to the finals!" Krillin said, his belly full and round, slurping his drink as he sympathized with Yamcha.
"Yeah, just a little short…" Yamcha sighed, then leaned in and asked quietly, "Hey, Krillin… can you tell me how you became a student of the Muten Master? Come on, spill it!"