The early afternoon sun filtered through gaps in the cluttered rooftops of Orario's Artisan District as Zamasu arrived at the blacksmith's workshop.
The forge was humming with activity. Dwarves moved with practiced urgency, shouting over each other and the steady roar of the flames.
Sparks danced from anvils, and thick smoke curled up from quenching barrels.
Zamasu stepped through the open doors, eyes adjusting to the dim interior made darker by the glowing metal inside.
The dwarf from three days ago—Magrun, if he remembered correctly—looked up from a bench, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Ah, green-skin. You're back right on time." The dwarf gestured toward a nearby wooden rack. "Your pieces are cooled, tested, and ready for your fancy little costume."
Zamasu approached.
Three items rested on padded cloth: the wrist bracers, bicep rings, and reinforced combat shoes—each crafted from the mythril alloy he'd provided.
Light reflected off their smooth surfaces, almost white in color, but with a faint iridescent sheen.
Due to the material used, the metal's color is not the god from the show—but an almost white color, with shifting pastel rainbow hues caused by the iridescence.
The overall effect is soft, dreamy, and ethereal.
Magrun picked up one of the bicep rings, tapping it against the side of the anvil.
"Enchanted with heat resistance, impact mitigation, and reinforced threading to anchor tight against the muscle without restricting motion," he said proudly.
"Flexible like leather, strong like adamantite. Shouldn't crack unless you're bashing dragons with your elbows."
Zamasu took the bicep ring, examining the texture with his thumb. It was cold, but it adjusted quickly to his skin, a subtle warmth blooming across the contact point.
"Perfect." His voice remained even, but the approval was genuine.
Magrun grunted. "You're welcome. Next time, bring more mythril or more materials. No discounts for a polite tone."
Zamasu inclined his head once. "Understood."
He gathered the rest of the pieces into a plain canvas carrier Magrun provided, thanked the blacksmith, and stepped back into the sun-soaked street.
His next destination wasn't far.
The tailor's shop—Sylinne's Atelier—was quieter than the forge but no less intense in atmosphere.
It smelled of fine fabrics and faintly charged mana threads. The elf herself stood near the counter, a half-unrolled bolt of deep purple cloth hovering mid-air beside her.
She turned the moment he stepped in.
"On time," she said, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Good. I don't keep late clients, and I don't like rush orders."
She led him toward the back, where two mannequin forms displayed his commissioned outfits:
The first—a faithful interpretation of Zeno Goku's gi—a predominantly dark-colored outfit.
A short-sleeved, dark-colored, close-fitting top is visible under a longer, flowing, crimson-red robe. The robe is open at the front, revealing the under-layer.
It also sports a light blue fabric for the sash tied around the waist area, and light blue leg wraps that extend from below his knees to just above his ankles.
He has dark-colored, black boots.
The second—a lightweight Broly-style ensemble—white martial pants tailored to exact length and proportion, paired with a thick crimson sash around the waist.
Only thing missing from it was the guards.
Zamasu didn't speak for a long moment. He approached slowly, fingertips brushing across the folded hem of the sash.
Sylinne watched his expression closely. "Try them on. The back room is clear."
He did. Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out wearing the Zeno Goku outfit.
It fit like a second skin.
The fabric clung snug where needed and allowed free movement at the joints and limbs. Every stitch aligned to maximize flexibility.
It didn't weigh him down or fold awkwardly at the knees. The cut was precise. The craftsmanship was flawless.
Sylinne gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Better than your current rags."
Zamasu pulled on the black gi top, tightening the belt.
"Money well spent," he said contently.
"You're not wrong." She extended a satchel with the second outfit folded and his toga(sandals included) neatly inside, then gestured at a clipboard. "Sign here. Try not to die wearing it."
He did as instructed.
As he left the tailor's workshop, the sunlight hit the outfit just right—deep blue shimmering faintly against his pale green skin, silver hair tied loosely behind his head.
He felt the eyes.
People in the district were always too busy to stare, but he noticed. Glances. Sideways looks. Whispers. A few paused to admire the tailoring, others to puzzle out what he was.
He didn't flinch.
If anything, he welcomed the attention.
This was what he'd wanted.(gotta aura farm somehow)
He journeyed back to the inn he is currently staying in.
Zamasu stepped into the quiet room of the modest inn he'd been renting for the past several days.
Once inside his small rented room at the inn, Zamasu set the satchel down on the low wooden table and began changing immediately.
He removed the Zeno Goku outfit with care, folding it neatly before retrieving the Broly-style ensemble.
He slipped into the white martial pants first, noting how they fit perfectly around his waist and legs.
He adjusting the waistband before wrapping and knotting the crimson sash around his midsection.
The fabric was thick and heavy, but it rested securely. Next came the mythril bracers—wrist and bicep pieces that clicked into place smoothly.
Zamasu walked over to a wall that had a polished silver(backwater mirror) and examined himself.
The pale, rainbow-sheened mythril shimmered softly under the afternoon light leaking through the window.
It didn't shine like polished gold—it glowed with a subtle, shifting iridescence.
Against his pale green skin, it looked perfectly natural. Almost like it belonged there. The color wasn't gaudy like Broly's original golden armor, but instead resembled his own hair, just lighter and more refined.
Clean.
He turned slightly, watching the bracers shift with his movement.
Flexible, but tight. No looseness, no slip. Even the combat shoes gripped well. He threw a few light punches and a short kick. Everything stayed in place.
"Nice," he muttered to himself. He allowed a brief moment of silent approval.
Last were the reinforced shoes—designed for balance, agility, and durability. They resembled hardened martial boots with mythril plating along the outer curves.
He slipped them on, the soles pressing comfortably against the floor as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, testing their responsiveness.
This outfit was simpler than the Zeno one, but more aggressive. Less formal. It suited what he had planned next.(aura farm in fights)
He reached into the satchel and pulled out a small scroll, partially filled with early designs—sketches and material notes for the third outfit. The one based on his original body's fusion attire.
Black, magenta, silver and divine arrogance.
He rolled it back up and placed it aside.
"Later," he muttered. "Once I'm swimming in valis."
That meant one thing.
It was time to return to the Dungeon.
"I'll need rare fabric. Dyes. Possibly adamantite for trim," he mused aloud, stepping toward the door of his room. "But that's for when I'm swimming in valis."
Right now?
He needed to earn.
Zamasu gathered his belongings—and left the inn.
His head held high, dressed in the Broly-style outfit. No cloak. No robe to hide behind.
Just clean muscle, white pants, shining mythril guards, and a blood-red sash tied firm at his waist.
The city noise barely registered as he walked. He ignored the glances. They would stare anyway. Let them.
He turned onto the main road toward the Guild and the Dungeon beyond, arms loose at his sides, gaze forward. Calm.
Today, he would dive.
Today, he would collect.
And then?
He'd start planning the next stage.
Chapter 28 end
How strong do y'all think a power level of 120 is physically? I know I said he about low level 5 with ki blast in earlier chapters but if he put all his ki into a single attack and charge it a little, then his DC is about continental to multi.
Cause roshi with a power level of 139 blew up the moon with full power ki blast. But he was not physically moon level.