Dragon Ball Human

Saro Yamiru sprinted through South City, a flicker of expectation surging through him—something he hadn't felt in the past five months.

He expertly navigated the streets, weaving through sparse morning traffic until he reached the park. Breathing heavily, he made his way to the workout area near the man-made grove, lined with pull-up bars and other fitness equipment.

"Huff… huff…"

Sweat dripped down his face as he scanned the area, his eyes automatically ignoring everyone except the figure he sought.

"There he is." His eyes lit up as he spotted the old man.

Dressed in the same gray-green cloth robe as before, the man's plain and modest appearance somehow radiated an aura of a reclusive master. He stood there, practicing his slow and deliberate punches, utterly indifferent to the world around him.

Squinting, Yamiru observed him closely. The longer he watched, the more his eyes strained, his mind felt drained, and even his thoughts seemed sluggish. The old man's movements were deceptively simple yet carried an intangible power that made them captivating.

The feeling he had on the first day wasn't an illusion! A thrill bubbled up within Yamiru.

On his second day after being transported here, dressed in rags like a beggar, Yamiru had spread out a tattered world map. Having landed in the Dragon Ball universe, how could he not seek out Master Roshi for martial arts training? But when he patted his pockets, they were empty, and his stomach rumbled loudly. Training had to wait.

Back then, he wandered into the park and squeezed past the elderly exercising there to approach this very old man who practiced with his eyes closed.

By the end of his first month, Yamiru had stabilized his living situation. Once his food and clothing were secured, he took out the map again. Staring at the vast ocean marked on it, he was utterly lost. Without a guide or a Flying Nimbus, how could he possibly find Kame House in the endless expanse of the Eastern Sea? Row out on a dinghy and hope for the best? That plan was quickly abandoned.

Now, stepping closer to the old man, Yamiru was rehearsing how to approach him sincerely. But before he could speak, the old man stopped his slow movements, collected himself, and, without so much as a glance, turned to leave.

Just like yesterday.

Yamiru: "..."

He knew it. No martial arts master on Earth would let an amateur like him sneak up unnoticed.

This old man was definitely toying with him on the first day.

Watching the old man's retreating figure, Yamiru felt unwilling to give up and hurriedly chased after him again.

As he ran, a doubt flashed through his mind.

Sure, he could accept that the old man might've been pretending not to notice him that day, but how did the man's first words, "Huh? Where is he?" perfectly match what Yamiru had been thinking at that exact moment?

Yamiru knew that Earth's martial arts masters often displayed incredible abilities.

For example, during the World Martial Arts Tournament, Master Roshi, disguised as Jackie Chun, had used mind-reading on Nam to learn his plan of buying water for his village.

Then there was Namek, where Goku had merely touched Krillin's bald head to instantly understand everything that had happened to Bulma and her group on the planet.

And the most bizarre case—during the Android Saga, Goku, who had been bedridden with a heart virus, somehow knew every detail of the battles fought against the androids while he was unconscious, as if he'd secretly read the script in his sleep. It was ridiculously uncanny.

Yamiru didn't believe this old man could rival Goku's god-like abilities from later sagas, but it wasn't impossible for Earth to have masters on par with Master Roshi or Crane Hermit.

Could this old man… also be a mind reader?

"Wait! Hold on!"

Yamiru sprinted after him, his mind a chaotic swirl of thoughts. Yet, the old man's figure continued to grow smaller in the distance.

"What the hell? The guy's just walking fast, but how is he moving this quickly?" Yamiru was giving it everything he had, his surroundings a blur of greenery and passing park benches. Still, he couldn't close the gap. Instead, the old man only got further away. "Don't tell me they've changed the rules and added some teleportation."

If running couldn't catch him, maybe shouting would!

Ignoring how it might disrupt his breathing rhythm, Yamiru took a deep breath and roared, "Hey! Sir! Wait up! It's me!"

People nearby—on the grass and paths—stopped and stared at Yamiru's sudden outburst. Even a blonde woman walking her dog, who had just passed the old man, jumped in surprise. Both she and her pet turned to look at the boy sprinting like a madman, shouting at the top of his lungs.

'What are you staring at? Can't you see I'm chasing that old man? Grab him for me!' Yamiru silently complained as he whizzed past the woman, the gust of wind he created conveniently flipping up her skirt. She let out a soft yelp of surprise, but Yamiru couldn't be bothered to notice her figure, no matter how curvy she was. the only curves he was interested in were those of the old man he was chasing, and who was once again vanishing from sight.

"Wait up!"

Yamiru didn't understand where this sudden determination was coming from, but a fiery stubbornness welled up within him. Gritting his teeth, his legs pumped so fast they were practically a blur, like a spinning cyclone of wind and fire. He was running as if his life depended on it.

But it was futile.

The old man, without even turning his head, disappeared beyond the horizon—just like the day before.

The frustration drained all the energy out of Yamiru. His once-powerful strides faltered, and his steps became clumsy. His momentum was too strong to stop, and before he knew it, he stumbled forward, crashing into a roadside trash can with a clatter.

"Bang!" He ricocheted off the trash can like a rubber ball, flying into a streetlamp pole with a loud clang. His head smacked into the metal, and he finally came to a stop.

The onlookers were stunned.

What's this kid doing?

"Woof! Woof!" The small dog barked a few times at Yamiru, who was sprawled face-down against the streetlamp pole, his rear in the air. To his surprise, it was the same dog belonging to the blonde woman whose skirt he had accidentally flipped up. Unbeknownst to him, Yamiru had run so fast while chasing the old man that he'd unknowingly completed a full lap around the park.

The blonde woman hesitated as she looked at Yamiru, now motionless on the ground. Did he just die from that collision? she wondered nervously.

After all, she had witnessed the entire spectacle—the spectacular trip and the resounding clang of his head hitting the streetlamp were impossible to ignore. As she stared, she noticed the boy begin to move. His legs, once sticking awkwardly into the air, fell limply to the ground. He now lay flat, staring blankly at the sky with a dazed and fragile expression that stirred a hint of sympathy in the woman's heart.

Yamiru slowly rolled over and got on all fours. Suddenly, he began pounding the grass with both fists, each strike creating small but visible dents in the soft ground.

"Arghhh! That old man did it on purpose! He definitely did it on purpose!" Yamiru growled, slamming the ground with frustration.

"Woof!" The dog barked again, wagging its tail furiously.

"Woof your ass!" Yamiru snapped his head toward the dog, his temper flaring for no apparent reason. He bared his teeth and growled back, as if ready to unleash a barrage of punches on the poor animal.

The dog immediately clamped its mouth shut, tucked its tail between its legs, and bolted behind the blonde woman, hiding between her long, slender legs.

"Ha… ha…" The blonde woman chuckled awkwardly, taking a step back as she nudged the trembling dog with her foot. Not wanting to get involved, she quickly led the dog away.

Still, she couldn't help but feel puzzled. When the boy first ran past me… weren't his eyes a different color? she thought. They definitely weren't gold before. Strange temper, but those glowing golden eyes are quite striking… If only he weren't so young… Ah, forget it…

\---

After leaving Yamiru behind in the dust, the old man casually strolled out of the park and turned a corner. There, he encountered a stylishly dressed woman wearing a baseball cap and oversized sunglasses perched on her nose.

"Tsk. Why are you pushing yourself so hard?" the woman asked lazily.

The old man furrowed his brow and snorted, "Aren't you meddling just as much?"

The woman shrugged, a playful grin on her lips. "Don't make baseless accusations. I haven't done anything yet…"