Dragon Ball.
An animanga series that didn't just entertain—it redefined shōnen anime itself. It laid the foundation for power systems, transformations, escalating threats, and the very idea of a hero who grows endlessly stronger through effort, battle, and will.
It is no exaggeration to say that Dragon Ball shaped the industry.
Without it, legendary stories like One Piece, Naruto, and Bleach would not exist in the form we know today—if at all. Dragon Ball ran so that these stories could walk… and eventually soar.
Remove it from history, and no one truly knows what anime would look like today. Power scaling, tournament arcs, rival dynamics, even the global popularity of anime itself—everything traces back to this one series.
And from that legacy, the most iconic anime character of all time was born.
Son Goku.
A warrior defined not by destiny, but by effort. A simple-minded boy with a pure heart who rose to godlike heights through relentless training and an unbreakable love for battle. His face is recognized across the world—rivaled only by Pikachu himself.
Now, ask yourself this:
■What if someone else entered the body of the young Saiyan?
■What if they knew what was coming?
■What if they trained harder, smarter… and never wasted a single moment?
This is not the story of the Goku you know.
This is the story of what happens when limitless potential meets absolute preparation. Stay tuned.
.....
On the blue planet known as Earth, far beyond civilization, beyond roads, villages, or even wandering travelers, lay a stretch of ancient mountains that had stood untouched for countless generations. These peaks pierced the clouds themselves, jagged and imposing, their presence so overwhelming that even the wind seemed to slow as it passed through them.
Thousands of kilometers away from the nearest city, one mountain stood above the rest.
It towered like a silent guardian of the land—vast, majestic, and eternal. Its peak was often swallowed by mist, kissed by the sun at dawn and cloaked in shadow by dusk. Anyone who saw it would instinctively believe that was where this story began.
Yet… it wasn't.
At the base of that colossal mountain, almost insignificant by comparison, stood a small wooden hut. Weathered by time but sturdy, it looked as though it had grown there naturally, as if the mountain itself had accepted it. Smoke no longer rose from its chimney, and the surroundings were quiet—too quiet.
Inside the hut, on the wooden floor, lay a young boy.
He wore a simple orange gi, slightly oversized for his small frame, the fabric faded from years of use. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, deep in peaceful sleep. At first glance, anyone would assume he was a toddler—small in stature, short limbs, and a roundness to his face that made him look far younger than he truly was.
His spiky black hair, however, stood out immediately.
It jutted out in impossible angles, refusing to lie flat no matter what—unnatural by Earth's standards, as if gravity itself had given up trying to tame it.
Time passed quietly.
Then, slowly… the boy stirred.
His black eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, staring blankly at the wooden ceiling above him. Confusion crept into his expression, his brows knitting together as awareness returned.
"…Huh?"
He shifted, pushing himself up from the floor with clumsy movements. As he sat upright, something immediately felt wrong. His balance was off. His body felt lighter—smaller.
Much smaller.
He looked down.
Tiny arms. Short fingers. Soft hands that didn't match his memories at all.
"…What?"
He lifted his hands closer to his face, turning them over slowly, disbelief growing with every second.
'Where am I?' he thought.
His gaze darted around the hut now—taking in the familiar layout. The simple bed. The old table. The worn cooking tools. The faint scent of wood and smoke lingering in the air.
His breath hitched.
'I… I know this place.'
A strange chill ran down his spine as recognition settled in—far deeper than mere familiarity. This wasn't just a place he'd seen before.
This was a place he remembered.
And as his thoughts raced, one name echoed in his mind—one tied to this hut, this mountain, and the life of a boy who would one day become a legend.
His eyes drifted across the interior of the hut one last time—until they stopped.
Against the far wall stood a small, shrine-like stand. Simple. Wooden. Carefully kept. Resting atop it, cushioned by a neatly folded pillow, was an orange sphere that seemed to glow softly even in the dim light of the hut.
Four red stars gleamed within it.
The moment his brain processed what he was seeing, his eyes widened in pure shock.
"…No way."
He didn't hesitate.
The boy rushed forward, his short legs moving clumsily as he nearly tripped over himself. He stopped just in front of the shrine, staring down at the orb like it might disappear if he blinked.
Slowly—almost reverently—he reached out.
The ball was too large for his small body to handle with one hand, forcing him to use both as he lifted it. It was heavier than it looked, solid and warm against his palms. As he raised it closer, the smooth surface reflected his face back at him.
Black eyes. Round cheeks. Wild, spiky hair.
That reflection answered every lingering doubt.
His hands trembled slightly as he lowered the orb, carefully placing it back onto the pillow exactly where it had been. He took a step back, his breathing shallow.
'…I'm Goku.'
Not a question.
A realization.
The weight of that truth settled heavily on his chest. As his thoughts raced, another strange sensation tugged at his awareness—something behind him, moving on its own.
He froze.
Slowly, he twisted his head and looked over his shoulder.
A long, brown tail swayed gently behind him, curling and uncurling as if alive.
His mouth fell open.
'…I have a tail?!'
Heart pounding, he reached back cautiously, fingers hovering for a moment before finally wrapping around it.
The instant he did—
His body went limp.
Strength drained from his limbs like water from a shattered cup, his knees buckling as he collapsed backward onto the floor with a dull thud. The world spun, his muscles refusing to respond as his vision blurred.
"…Ugh…"
Lying there, barely able to move, he let out a weak, breathless chuckle.
'Guess… this is before he trained it.'
Despite the shock, despite the overwhelming situation, a small smile tugged at his lips.
After all— This wasn't just any body. This was the body of Son Goku. And now… it was his.
TO BE CONTINUED