The moment Whitley completed his Super Saiyan transformation, an indescribable and terrifying aura, like an invisible tsunami, erupted from Kami's Lookout at the top of Korin Tower and swept across the entire planet!
This aura was powerful, violent, and filled with a devastatingly oppressive feeling.
At Kame House, located on the sea, Master Roshi was in an extremely lecherous posture, his butt stuck out and his old face practically glued to the television screen, mesmerized by a replay of the latest "Global Aerobics Championship."
Suddenly, he felt an irresistible, violent aura press down on him! His body involuntarily lurched backward, and with a "thud," he landed squarely on his rear end, his sunglasses knocked askew.
"Ouch!"
He cried out in pain and struggled for a long time before managing to get up. The sleazy excitement on his face was instantly replaced by sheer horror.
He rushed to the window, his cloudy old eyes staring deadly in the direction of Korin Tower, cold sweat instantly soaking the back of his Hawaiian shirt.
"This... this aura... is it that kid Whitley's?! How... how can it be so terrifying?!"
He muttered to himself, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
The power Whitley had shown at the Martial Arts Tournament was like a firefly compared to the bright moon in the face of this aura!
Just then, Krillin, holding a bulging wallet, cheerfully pushed open the door. "Master Roshi, I've finished my work-training! The boss said I was fast and good at moving bricks, so he paid me triple the wages!"
He saw Master Roshi's disheveled appearance and pale face and was stunned. "Master, what happened to you? Did you throw out your back again?"
Master Roshi had just barely recovered from the heart-pounding aftershock of the aura. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart, and shook his head with a complicated expression.
"N-nothing. It's just... I'm getting old, my legs aren't what they used to be."
He took the wallet from Krillin, and only then did he manage to force a smile. "Well done, Krillin. Launch has left some food for you in the fridge. Remember to heat it up yourself."
After Krillin left, filled with confusion, Master Roshi once again looked out the window at the seemingly calm sky, the shock on his face lingering for a long time.
His fingers, gripping the windowsill, turned white. He couldn't help but whisper to himself, "So... that punch... was far from your limit... Whitley... you kid, who in the world are you?"
In a villa at the Crane School dojo.
Crane Hermit was elegantly swirling a glass of red wine, maintaining his grandmasterly demeanor in front of his disciples, Tien Shinhan and Chiaotzu.
Suddenly, his wrist trembled, and the expensive red wine spilled, staining the valuable carpet.
His face instantly turned as pale as paper, and the wine glass in his hand fell to the floor with a "clatter," shattering into pieces.
"M-Master?"
Tien looked at the失态 Crane Hermit with surprise and uncertainty. He himself had also felt the aura that made his very soul tremble, and his expression was incredibly grave.
Crane Hermit's lips trembled. He swallowed hard and looked at Tien with an unprecedented fear in his eyes.
"T-Tien... that aura... is too terrifying! Next... next time, the World Martial Arts Tournament... maybe... maybe we shouldn't participate?"
For the first time, his ambition wavered. The owner of that aura was by no means a force that could be opposed by human strength!
Tien clenched his fists. The oppressive feeling from the aura made it a little difficult for him to breathe, but the pride of a Crane School martial artist and his obsession with surpassing the Turtle School burned in his heart.
He suddenly raised his head, his eyes shining with an unyielding light. "I'm sorry, Master! Your disciple still wants to participate! I want to prove with my strength that our Crane School is absolutely stronger than the Turtle School! No matter who the opponent is!"
His tone was firm and resolute, carrying a do-or-die determination.
Crane Hermit looked at the fire in his disciple's eyes and hesitated for a long time before finally sighing and slowly nodding. "Very well... since you have made up your mind... then you must win the championship! At any cost!"
His final words carried a hint of desperate ruthlessness.
"Yes, Master!" Tien replied in a deep voice, his entire body exuding a razor-sharp aura.
Beside them, Chiaotzu looked up at Tien's determined profile, his small eyes instantly filling with stars of adoration as he whispered, "Tien... so cool..."
In a forest near Korin Tower, Goku was in a fierce battle with a man who called himself the world's number one assassin, Mercenary Tao.
Tao's attacks were vicious and cunning, while Goku managed to hold his own with his agile movements and ever-improving martial arts.
Just as Goku saw an opening and was about to counter-attack, the violent aura struck his senses like a sledgehammer!
Goku's body froze for a moment!
"A perfect chance!"
How could the experienced Tao miss such a fleeting opportunity? A fierce light flashed in his eyes as he shouted, "Dodon Ray!"
His long-charged killing move shot towards Goku's vital points with a sharp whistle!
In the nick of time, Goku instinctively used his Power Pole to block!
"Thud!" With a muffled sound, Goku was sent back several steps by the immense force, his arm numb.
He quickly readjusted his stance, blinked his eyes, and looked at the sneering Tao, who had successfully landed a sneak attack. But his heart was filled with confusion.
"That feeling just now... was it Whitley? Strange... why did I feel Whitley?"
At this time, Goku had not yet learned to sense the ki of others, but if all went according to plan, his opportunity was about to arrive.
On the plaza of the Lookout, the golden light of the transformation began to slowly recede.
Having successfully transformed into a Super Saiyan, Whitley hovered in mid-air, looking at his hands, which were wrapped in a golden aura, in disbelief. He felt the terrifying power, dozens of times stronger than his normal state, surging like an ocean within him!
However, after the elation, a strong, somewhat uncontrollable, and violent impulse also began to grow in his heart!
It was as if a bloodthirsty beast had been awakened within him, trying to make him crave destruction, to crave battle!
The golden aura flickered uncontrollably, and the powerful ki, like a tangible wave, crashed against the Lookout's protective barrier, emitting a low hum.
"No..."
Whitley suppressed the restlessness in his heart, his brow furrowed. "I can't perfectly control this power yet! The ki leakage is too severe!"
He knew very well that if he returned to the ground in this state, the leaking ki alone would be enough to cause a disaster.
He decisively landed on the now-ruined plaza of the Lookout and sat down cross-legged.
His golden hair still stood on end, but his turquoise eyes shone with a calm light.
He closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind, attempting to bring the violent power under control and quell the restlessness in his heart.
Kami, supported by Mr. Popo, slowly approached.
His deep eyes were fixed on Whitley's current state—the golden flames, the turquoise pupils, the cold and powerful pressure... His wrinkled old face was filled with unprecedented shock and doubt as he muttered in a low voice:
"This power... how... how can it be so immense! What... what in the world is he?"
Just as Whitley was concentrating on trying to control his power but felt the violent urge was like a maggot in his bones, difficult to eradicate, a calm voice sounded beside him:
"Your mind is too cluttered."
Whitley's turquoise eyes snapped open, and he looked in surprise at Mr. Popo, who had appeared in front of him at some point.
Mr. Popo was still his usual all-black, expressionless self, as if the earth-shattering transformation just now had had no effect on him.
Mr. Popo ignored Whitley's surprise and continued in his monotonous tone:
"You should have already tried to sense nature on your own, but that is far from enough. Your mind is not truly clear. There are too many distracting thoughts."
He paused, as if observing the flow of Whitley's ki.
"The 'ki' in your body seems vast, but it is like a wild horse. It has not truly integrated with you, to the point where you can command it like your own limbs. After your power reached a plateau, you did not calm down to carefully polish yourself and stabilize your foundation. Instead, you impatiently pursued a stronger, new form of power. Your foundation is now like a house built on sand; it is very unstable."
"Huh?"
Whitley was left speechless by Mr. Popo's sharp assessment, surprise welling up inside him.
This Mr. Popo, who had been a minor character, almost just a background prop in the original Dragon Ball story... actually had the insight to see the hidden dangers in his power system at a glance?
Is... is this for real?
"You... who are you?"
Whitley couldn't help but probe again, his turquoise pupils full of scrutiny.
"I am Mr. Popo," Popo's answer was simple and direct, his tone still devoid of any emotion. "I am Kami's servant."
Whitley was speechless. I'll be damned if I believe you! How can a servant of Earth's guardian have this kind of insight and level of understanding?
But at this moment, he couldn't be bothered to delve into Mr. Popo's identity.
Popo's words were like a sudden enlightenment, instantly waking him up. He had indeed been too focused on the numerical growth of his power, neglecting the calming of his mind and the control over his power.
All those cultivation novels he read in his past life weren't for nothing. He no longer hesitated and immediately discarded all distracting thoughts, trying to completely empty his mind as guided by Popo's words.
He no longer obsessed over suppressing the violent power, but instead tried to achieve a strange resonance with it.
He imagined his mind was like the calm surface of a lake, reflecting the sky and all things, letting the golden power pass over it like a gentle breeze, without creating any ripples.
Gradually, a mystical feeling washed over him. He felt as if he had truly integrated with the sky ten thousand meters high, with the flowing clouds around him, with the sapphire-blue planet beneath his feet...
He was no longer a vessel of violent power, but a part of nature itself.
In this strange state of "one with nature," the violent golden aura surrounding him began to soften and recede, eventually extinguishing and dissipating like a receding tide.
His dazzling golden hair also faded like gold, returning to its deep, dark black color.
Whitley's aura completely returned to calm, even more restrained than before his transformation.
He had sat there, unknowingly, for three days.
He was completely unaware of the passage of time. The sun and moon rotated, the sea of clouds churned, and three days passed quietly.
In the Briefs' estate in West City, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the tranquility of the Lookout, filled with a thick anxiety.
Bulma paced restlessly in the living room. Her beautiful blue eyes were bloodshot, and there were obvious dark circles under them.
Three days! It had been three whole days! There was no news from Whitley!
"You bastard, Whitley! You jerk! Where the hell have you gone?! What... what happened?!"
She violently grabbed an empty cup from the table, wanting to smash it, but remembering that she had bought it with Whitley, she couldn't bear to. She could only put it back down heavily with a "clank."
She had already mobilized all the resources of Capsule Corporation! Countless drones had been released like a plague of locusts, covering a vast area of several thousand kilometers in radius with Korin Tower at the center.
Major television and radio stations were broadcasting a missing person's notice on a loop, the reward money staggeringly high. The missing person's information was all over the internet.
However, all the feedback was the same: "Target not found."
Bulma picked up her phone again, her fingers trembling as she opened the latest drone patrol report. The glaring words "No matching target found" on the screen made her feel dizzy, and her eyes instantly turned red.
"Whitley..."
Her voice was choked with sobs as she sank weakly onto the sofa. "Where are you... don't scare me..."
Beside her, Mrs. Brief was holding a delicate teapot, slowly pouring perfectly tempered black tea into a cup.
She looked at her daughter's devastated state, sighed helplessly, and comforted her in a gentle tone:
"Alright, my little Bulma, don't worry too much. Little Whitley-poo is so strong. He even won that Martial Arts Tournament championship with ease. What could happen to him? He must have run into something special and can't get away for a while. Maybe..."
She lifted her teacup, gently blew on it, and said with the certainty of someone with experience, "He'll just 'swoosh' and fly back on his own in a little while, don't you think? You have to have faith in him."
Bulma looked up, her tear-filled eyes looking at her perpetually elegant and calm mother, her voice choked. "How is that possible, Mom! He's been gone for three days! We've been looking for so long and there's no news at all! How could he suddenly come back..."
"I'm back, Bulma!"
Before Bulma's tearful words had finished, a voice that couldn't be more familiar sounded from right above her head!
Immediately after, a figure appeared out of thin air with a "swoosh," as if teleporting, and landed steadily on the living room carpet in front of Bulma!
It was Whitley, who had been missing for three days!
Bulma was completely stunned. She stared, wide-eyed, at the travel-worn but completely unharmed man before her, feeling as if everything around her were a dream.
The next second!
"WHITLEEEY!!!"
A scream, filled with grievance, worry, and elation, pierced the quiet of the living room.
Bulma shot up from the sofa like a rabbit and, with great force, flew into Whitley's arms!
The huge impact even made Whitley stumble slightly, but he immediately wrapped his strong arms tightly around the girl in his embrace.
Bulma clung to him like an octopus, burying her face deep in his chest, her shoulders shaking violently. The worry that had been suppressed for three days completely erupted at this moment.
"You bastard! You jerk! Where the hell have you been for the past three days?! I thought... I thought you didn't want me anymore... sob sob..."
She accused him incoherently while weakly pounding on Whitley's back with her fists. Her tears, like broken strings of pearls, instantly soaked the front of Whitley's shirt.
Feeling the trembling of the girl in his arms and her hot tears, Whitley's heart felt as if it had been viciously squeezed, hurting immensely.
He tightened his arms, holding Bulma even closer, his chin gently resting on the top of her head. His voice was full of guilt and heartache as he repeatedly apologized in a low voice:
"I'm sorry... Bulma... I'm sorry... I made you worry... I went to Kami's Lookout to train, to try and master a new power... but I didn't expect to enter a special state. It felt like only a moment, but when I opened my eyes again, three days had passed... I'm really sorry... it was my negligence..."
His voice was low and gentle, with a hint of caution, as he softly comforted the girl before him.
He gently patted Bulma's back, letting her vent her emotions in his arms.
Beside them, Mrs. Brief took an elegant sip of the tea she had just cooled, watching the touching and impactful reunion scene that was like something out of a drama, a satisfied smile on her face.
It was as if she were watching a wonderful television show.
"Ara," she sighed softly, her eyes sparkling with delight. "This is truly a more exciting and wonderful show than any prime-time drama."