Earth
After the dramatic departure of Z-Broly, life on Earth slowly returned to its routine.
At The Lookout, Super Broly was deep in training under the guidance of Mr. Popo. When it came to mastering one's violent inner energy and ki control, Mr. Popo possessed his own unique methods. He had once helped Vegeta overcome his severe problem with unstable ki. Now, another powerful, yet emotionally volatile, warrior had arrived.
"Broly, that's it. Calm your heart. Empty your mind," Mr. Popo instructed as he led Super Broly through meditation.
Super Broly sat cross-legged, his brow furrowed, clearly struggling to find any peace within himself.
"Hmm… looks like this will take some time," Mr. Popo murmured softly.
West City
At Capsule Corporation, Vegeta continued his relentless self-imposed training. From inside the gravity chamber, waves of violent energy and his sharp battle cries echoed out again and again.
Somewhere in the City, Gohan was training alongside Pan, watching her progress closely. Piccolo stood silently nearby, observing everything with a calm, watchful expression.
Son Goku was sparring intensely with his new son, Goten. Father and son exchanged fierce blows, their fists and ki colliding with thunderous energy. A young girl stood nearby, mimicking their movements as she practiced the same techniques. Bulla had come to train with Son Goten.
Somewhere Over the Ocean, a luxurious yacht sliced across the sparkling waves, filled with people.
"Young Master, where exactly are you taking us?" asked a woman in a revealing outfit, playfully reaching out to trail her fingers along Trunks's arm.
Before she could touch him, another woman intercepted her.
"Don't ask so many questions. Wherever the Young Master wants us to go, we go," she said teasingly, brushing herself closer to Trunks. "Right, Young Master?"
Trunks didn't respond, his gaze was fixed on the distant horizon. Before long, a small, isolated house by the sea came into view.
"Mm. We're almost there," Trunks murmured.
The women followed his gaze and soon spotted the tiny seaside cottage. Outside stood an energetic old man, Master Roshi, the Turtle Hermit, who had clearly been waiting. Beside Roshi was a group of cheerful, scantily clad women, the previous group Trunks had arranged to keep the old master company. Judging by their lively expressions, Roshi had been taking very good care of them.
The yacht pulled up alongside the island. Trunks leapt off the deck and landed gracefully on the sand.
"Grandpa Turtle Hermit, I've come to train with you," Trunks said respectfully.
Roshi clasped his hands behind his back and nodded, though his eyes couldn't help but flick toward the group of new women behind Trunks.
"Mm, not bad, not bad. I'm quite satisfied," he muttered under his breath.
Trunks glanced back at the women and said, "You all, come down. From now on, you'll be staying here to keep Grandpa Turtle Hermit company. The scenery's beautiful, the environment's peaceful, it's a great place to live."
He tossed a capsule into the air. "I've already prepared all the necessary supplies inside this Capsule, food, tools, and all kinds of vehicles."
"Of course, if anyone wants to leave, I won't stop you… but those who leave won't get any of the money I promised."
After saying that, Trunks tossed out another Capsule. With a loud pop, piles upon piles of cash appeared, so much that the bills formed a small mountain on the yacht's deck. A sea breeze swept past, scattering the money into the air, causing all the women to squeal and scramble to grab it.
That flashy display alone was enough to make them all submit to Trunks's will.
"Young Master! We'll stay right here forever!"
"Yeah! We're not going anywhere! We'll just stay here with this old man!"
Seeing the scene, Master Roshi looked absolutely delighted. He gave Trunks a big thumbs-up.
"Trunks, not bad at all!" he said, clearly pleased.
Trunks turned to him with a grin. "Grandpa Turtle Hermit, you really are as lively as ever."
"So then, when do we start training?"
At that, Roshi's expression suddenly grew serious. He turned and walked into the Kame House, returning moments later with two empty milk bottles in his hands.
"Training starts right now. We'll begin… by delivering milk," he announced.
"Oh, and you, you may know how to use Flight, but from this moment on, you're not allowed to use it. You'll go on foot."
"Start with small things, and slowly polish that restless heart of yours."
"Don't rush the process."
"Well then, let's begin, Trunks."
Roshi handed the milk bottles to him.
Trunks accepted them, his face thoughtful. He recognized this method immediately, wasn't this the same kind of training Goku and Krillin went through when they were young apprentices under Master Roshi?
Then, he recalled Roshi's earlier words: Cultivation cannot be rushed. It must be done one step at a time.
"I understand, Grandpa Turtle Hermit," Trunks said, bowing slightly.
He was about to head out when Roshi stopped him. "Wait, Trunks."
"Do you even know the address? Don't just grab half the supplies and run off! I told you, don't be impatient. Calm your mind first."
He handed Trunks a map and warned, "Remember, no using Flight or your Instant Transmission."
Trunks took the map. "Got it, Grandpa Turtle Hermit."
He understood perfectly well, Roshi wasn't just training his body; he was tempering his mind. A true grandmaster always had a reason behind his methods.
(Since that's the case… I'll do it properly!)
With that resolve, Trunks set out toward the location marked on the map.
In Outer Space
A massive spaceship streaked through the void at incredible speed. Under Frieza's command, the entire Frieza Force had been mobilized.
In one of the corridors, two low-ranking aliens were deep in conversation.
"Hey, did you hear? Both Lord Cooler and King Cold have been revived!"
"Yeah! Lord Frieza's heading out this time to prove that he is the true ruler of the universe!"
The other alien nodded eagerly. "Of course! The word's already spread everywhere! Why else would His Majesty gather so many troops?"
"I think it's also to remind those disloyal types in the Frieza Army to keep their ambitions in check. Ah, Lord Frieza is so awe-inspiring!"
"Who would've thought there are even spies loyal to King Cold and Cooler within our ranks…"
As they whispered, a tall, segmented figure approached down the corridor, his posture rigid, his hands clasped behind his back.
The two aliens immediately froze.
The man's cold voice rang out: "What are you two gossiping about?"
"L-Lord Tagoma!" both aliens stammered in unison, snapping to attention.
"N-Nothing at all!" one of them managed to say nervously.
Tagoma narrowed his eyes and leaned in close, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, a sly, sinister smile curved across his face.
He placed a hand gently on each of their shoulders.
In that instant, both aliens' eyes went blank, their expressions turned vacant, their bodies stiff as if their souls had been drained away.
"Do your jobs properly," Tagoma ordered coolly.
The two aliens' eyes suddenly glowed with a strange, evil gleam.
"Yes, Lord Tagoma," they said in eerie unison.
(End Of This Chapter)
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