"So… that's how it is."
Yamiru murmured by the window.
The angel Whis drifted closer, hovering outside as he studied him with surprise. "My, my… You really are something. At this rate, it won't be long before you truly step into the realm of the gods."
Yamiru didn't deny it.
"True. Back then, I hesitated—wondering if I should go back and ask Fortuneteller Baba for a divination. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have gone to Mount Five Elements, nor would I have traveled back 40,000 years… and I wouldn't have met Sherie." He spoke slowly. "But Sherie and Leslie stayed in Universe 7—and you, Whis, must have known about them. Which means you also knew about my existence back then."
"When the timeline split and a parallel world was born, the 'you' in the timeline that needed correcting naturally wouldn't want your memories altered… So you came here. You reversed time, didn't you?"
"My, how clever~" Whis tilted his head with a smile, not denying it. "No wonder Sherie staked her fate on you."
"Sherie?" Yamiru feigned ignorance.
Whis giggled behind his hand. "You can't deny that your current strength owes something to her help, can you? She believed in you, went out of her way to aid you… And now she's trapped in the Celestial Realm. So, what will you do? Leave her there forever?"
"How is she?" Yamiru asked.
"Oh, she's fine~ Just sleeping eternally in the Celestial Realm." Whis waved a hand reassuringly. "No sense of time, no awareness of her own existence—no worries at all! You needn't trouble yourself over her."
Was that really "fine"? Yamiru felt a twinge of exasperation. From Whis' tone, it was clear he disapproved of this slumber. Was that why he had trained his God of Destruction, Beerus, to such absurd heights? To the point where Beerus could casually challenge other universes' Destroyers without breaking a sweat?
Whis didn't linger long—after all, he and Yamiru weren't exactly close, and he had a napping Destroyer to tend to back home.
---
Watching the rainbow-like light streak away from Earth and into the cosmos, the masked figure inside the palace heard voices from the lakeside arena outside—Fortuneteller Baba and someone in conversation.
"Remember this: for a divination, you either pay or fight. Who has time to listen to you mortals ramble? This old woman's time is precious! So… did you bring money?"
"Nope," the someone shook his head. "Just me. The other three already left to find the Dragon Ball."
"Cheeky brat. But the warriors I brought from the Afterlife—even the mighty Devilman was beaten by you. I suppose there's no one else who—"
Before she could finish, a gentle voice interrupted:
"Baba, I'll be his opponent."
Both the someone and Fortuneteller Baba turned toward the sound. From a side door of the palace emerged a figure wearing an animal mask.
The someone blinked in bewilderment. Who the hell is this guy? The mask looked like something out of a comic—similar to Gohan's after death. Was he another martial artist Baba summoned from the afterlife? But no… there was no halo over his head!
Meanwhile, Fortuneteller Baba nearly had a heart attack. What's happening?! Why is he here?!
"You can't— there's no need to—" She frantically tried to dissuade him. We were just joking around! Don't scare the poor boy! If you like him, I'll just give him the damn reading!
"I said," the masked man repeated, unfazed, "I'll be his opponent."
His tone remained mild, yet carried an authority that left no room for refusal.
This was the Savior who had existed since tens of thousands of years ago—Earth's First Kami! Even Fortuneteller Baba's own master, the Supreme Elderly Lord, treated him with utmost respect. A mere fortune-teller like her wouldn't dare disobey. She promptly shut her mouth.
Utterly confused, the someone jumped onto the arena.
The masked man, hands behind his back, took a single light step and landed opposite him.
So… young.
Studying his past self, Yamiru felt as if he were staring into a mirror—one that reflected nothing but immaturity and naivety.
No wonder my training on Korin Tower was so grueling back then. He admitted inwardly.
While Yamiru was lost in thought, his younger self activated his Golden Veil, studying him intently.
Ever since unlocking this new visual ability, the younger Yamiru had been able to perceive the demonic energy that permeated the world. Yet, on this masked man, he couldn't detect even a trace of it.
"So he's definitely not some warrior from the Underworld… and not a monster like the Mummy or the Demon King either."
But what was even stranger?
Not only was there no demonic energy—he couldn't even see a human aura around the masked man!
"What the hell does that mean? Is his energy so vast it's completely beyond my perception? No way."
The younger Yamiru was baffled. Just who the hell is this guy?!
The Fight Begins
The masked man moved.
His attack wasn't anything special—just a straightforward charge, a direct assault.
Yet, when the younger Yamiru threw a punch, his fist passed through empty air.
"An afterimage?!"
He lunged again, only for another afterimage to fade.
Activating his Golden Veil to their fullest, he scanned the arena—only to see dozens of the masked man's afterimages scattered across the battlefield.
Some standing, some reclining, some bending over, some even admiring the scenery… and one, absurdly, doing a perfect headstand.
"What the—?!"
It was strange. Back when facing the young Korin, Mutaito, or even the Turtle Hermit, Yamiru had never felt the urge to show off.
But now, facing his past self?
He couldn't resist messing with him a little.
"Maybe because my past self is just… embarrassingly bad."
Behind the mask, Yamiru rolled his eyes, feeling the same cringe as when revisiting old, awkward memories.
For the first time, he truly understood why the Turtle Hermit had been so reluctant to train him back then.
"Enough! Quit messing around!"
The younger Yamiru's golden pupils flared as he focused entirely on the battle.
His body blurred—
BAM! BAM!
The sound of collisions echoed through the empty air.
Now, it wasn't just the masked man's afterimages fighting—his own afterimages were clashing back.
"He actually learned the Afterimage Technique… in such a short time?" Fortuneteller Baba gasped.
For the first time, Yamiru observed his own Golden Veil from an outsider's view.
He saw the stubbornness and resilience buried deep within them.
Behind the mask, he smiled faintly.
Now I understand how that old man felt.
Maybe… this kid really is worth pushing forward.
BAM!
A heavy thud shook the arena.
The younger Yamiru was pinned face-down, his arm twisted uselessly behind him, the masked man's foot planted firmly on his back.
"Damn it…!" he growled.
"You lost," the masked man said calmly, his voice still gentle. He released his grip and helped the younger Yamiru up. "But you did well. For your age, your skills are impressive. It's been years since I've seen an Earthling so talented."
He turned to Fortuneteller Baba.
"Give him his divination."
---
"Will I ever become strong enough to destroy a planet?"
The crystal ball's answer?
A bizarre mountain range, shrouded in shadow.
"That's… Mount Five Elements," the masked man suddenly spoke up, startling everyone (who had almost forgotten he was still there).
"The far west—the edge of the world."
Mount Five Elements?!
The younger Yamiru stared in shock at the vision in the crystal ball.
In the crystal's reflection, the masked man watched as his younger self flew away in the plane.
Then, from inside his robes, a tiny, palm-sized girl wriggled out, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
"Ahhh… slept so well~ Your heartbeat's too steady—it's like a lullaby. I keep dozing off…"
The masked man floated into the air. "Did I wake you?"
Carrying Joey, he flew westward.
"Let's head back. Annin said she made hot pot. We'll eat together."
The miniature girl cheered, pumping her fists. "Hot pot?! Yay~!"
---
Back at Mount Five Elements…
Annin smacked the crystal ball in irritation.
"Who said I made hot pot?!"
Inside the vision, the flying masked man seemed to sense something and glanced "at the camera".
The Supreme Elderly Lord sighed, rolling her eyes as she went to prepare ingredients.
Stirring the massive Furnace of Eight Divisions (which doubled as a cooking pot), she muttered gloomily:
"The edge of the world, huh… Even after 40,000 years, it still feels as far away as ever."