With a shark behind them, they finished ten trips quickly.
Still gasping, they were hauled to a giant tree.
Goku turned pale.
He remembered this nightmare.
Sure enough, Roshi tied all three to the tree with ropes.
"This trains your reflexes.
Fast reflexes let you dodge any attack."
He whacked a wasp nest with his cane and sprinted away.
The wasps swarmed the three kids instead.
They dashed frantically, but the ropes limited them to a radius.
Roshi shouted, "Move! Dodge!"
They finally started weaving and ducking.
If one kid dodged more, the others got stung more.
Soon all three returned with heads full of lumps.
Krillin was the MVP—his lumps were so even he looked like a little Buddha.
Roshi nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Training ends here for today."
Krillin asked carefully, "Is today's training… what we'll do every day from now on?"
Roshi laughed.
"Don't be dumb. Today was the easiest day."
All three froze.
"Easiest?!"
Roshi nodded.
"Tomorrow it's the same, but each of you wears a 20-kilogram turtle shell.
Now you know why we're Turtle School."
All three fainted at once.
…
From then on, Roshi's harsh training entered full swing.
To get stronger, none of them slacked.
Roshi taught with careful progression.
Even Chi-Chi kept up.
At first they were dead tired every day.
But gradually they adapted.
Days passed.
They delivered milk, plowed fields, hauled sand, earned Roshi a lot of money.
Goku finally understood why Roshi didn't charge tuition—
he taught hard, and his students worked like free labor.
Win-win.
Seven months flew by.
They not only grew stronger, but became close friends.
One day after training, Krillin asked,
"Master, the tournament is in one month.
Aren't you going to teach us actual fighting techniques now?"
Chi-Chi looked eager too.
Roshi shook his head.
"I've already taught you everything I can.
Turtle School basics are all in these seven months.
Without realizing it, you trained your eyes, fists, legs, senses, nerves, mind…
Techniques are only applications of basics."
Krillin frowned. "So… no special moves?"
"None.
Fixed moves can always be countered.
If I taught you routines, your potential ceiling would drop.
Moves are just basics used intelligently.
You must flexibly apply what you've learned and develop your own style."
They nodded, half-understanding.
Goku knew from the anime that his later greatness was rooted in Roshi's early guidance.
But even after living through seven months, he still couldn't pinpoint exactly why.
Maybe every step in Roshi's training had deep meaning Goku hadn't yet grasped.
Sometimes insight needed a trigger.
"One month left," Roshi said.
"I still won't teach you routines.
Train as usual—
but now with double weight.
Forty-kilogram turtle shells."
They fainted again.
…
The intensity rose, but after seven months they could handle it more easily.
They even gained more free time to rest.
So every evening before dinner, the three practiced together.
Not flashy traditional forms like Rising Dragon Punch, Iron Mountain, Crane Wings.
Those were too rigid, too easy to counter.
They focused only on the simplest techniques:
punches, kicks, blocks, guards, dodges, counters.
Punches: jabs, hooks, elbows.
Kicks: sweeps, low kicks, side thrusts.
Defense: crossed arms, tight guards…