I sat across from Goku and Krillin as they caught their breath, both of them still flushed from training.
"You did well," I said. "You're efficient. With the amount of ki you have right now, that efficiency is your greatest strength."
Krillin straightened a little at the praise, while Goku smiled easily.
"But," I continued, "that approach won't always be enough."
They both looked at me more seriously.
"Right now, conserving ki is smart," I explained. "However, once your power levels rise and your reserves grow larger, efficiency alone becomes a weakness. If all your ki is tightly controlled and stored, you risk being caught off guard."
Goku tilted his head. "Is that why I can always feel your ki moving… even when you look relaxed?"
I nodded. "Exactly."
I placed a hand over my chest. "Ki flows through our bodies the same way blood does. It's carried by circulation and guided by breath. That's why injuries limit how much power you can use—damage disrupts blood flow. And when your stamina drops, your breathing becomes irregular, making it harder to control that flow."
Krillin frowned in concentration. "So… it's not just about having ki. It's about keeping it moving."
"Right," I said. "Your next task is simple—but not easy. Learn to keep a constant, gentle flow of ki moving through your body until it feels as natural as breathing."
Goku's eyes lit up. "So we don't stop it—just keep it steady?"
"Exactly. Don't use too much. Just enough that your body doesn't feel burdened. As your power increases, the amount of ki you circulate must increase too. The way you measure it won't change—only the scale."
They both nodded, already thinking about how to try it.
Outside the training room, the city felt more alive than ever.
The training center thrived. The school I built alongside it was growing steadily. New equipment powered by ki rolled out daily—vehicles, tools, even medical devices designed to assist healing through controlled ki application.
The idea was simple.
Everyone has ki.
And with that realization, I had unknowingly built a society not unlike Planet Vegeta once was—except without hierarchy, without conquest, without chains.
The latest generation of robots now operated at a power level of five hundred, reliable enough to protect, but not enough to dominate.
Goku and Krillin were ready for the upcoming World Martial Arts Tournament. Seeing how far they'd come filled me with a quiet pride.
And I hadn't been idle either.
Bulma had become my sparring partner.
Her base power level now hovered around two hundred, but with her armor's thirty-times multiplier, she could match me blow for blow. Her fighting skill still lagged behind mine, but having someone who could meet me at my level—even temporarily—was something I deeply appreciated.
After a sparring session, she powered down her armor and crossed her arms.
"Do you think I should enter the tournament?" she asked.
I studied her for a moment. "You don't want to."
She shrugged. "Using my armor feels like cheating."
I shook my head slowly. "In a tournament, maybe. I'd agree—it wouldn't be fair."
She looked up at me.
"But in a real fight?" I continued. "Fair doesn't matter. Your enemy won't care how you win. They'll do anything to survive—and so should you."
She was silent, listening.
"Saiyans use the full moon to become Oozaru," I said. "That isn't fair either. But fairness doesn't keep you alive. Survival does. It's better to live now and grow stronger later than die because you thought your advantage was dishonorable."
I met her eyes. "Fight for the future. Don't trap yourself in the moment."
Bulma smiled faintly. "You really are serious about this world, aren't you?"
I looked out toward the city, lights glowing against the evening sky.
"Yes," I said softly. "I am."