Dragon Ball Human

"As expected, that dead rabbit's biggest client is you guys from the Red Ribbon Army!"

After subduing the Red Ribbon Army members, Delat quickly extracted the information they needed. Yamiru couldn't help but feel that the interrogation process was too easy, almost like something out of a comic book. It felt like everything had been simplified.

But upon further reflection, Yamiru realized that the world he now inhabited was vastly different from the one in his previous life. Applying the concepts from his past to this new world was simply illogical. Take, for example, the visual style he saw every day—it seemed scientifically impossible in his past life. How could living people walk around with 3D animated heads? And yet, here it was, so vivid and real!

But after getting used to it, he found the human form in his past life—or what he now called the "realistic style"—strange in comparison.

Returning to the matter at hand, after Delat had extracted all the necessary information, he was ready to leave.

"I've taught you all I can in these few days. To learn anything deeper than this would take more than a few days or even months. So, this is where we part ways!"

Delat said to Yamiru and the old monk. At his feet lay the Red Ribbon Army prisoners, bound and ready to be taken back. Those heads were of no use to Yamiru and the old monk, but for Delat, they were war trophies.

"Thanks for everything these past few days," Yamiru waved, smiling. "Goodbye!"

"It's I who should be thanking you," Delat replied.

With a quick motion, Delat tossed the prisoners into a helicopter. After securing them inside, he jumped into the pilot's seat, leaned out, and grinned. "Next time we meet, I'll teach you how to fly a plane! Ha, see you!"

With that, the helicopter's propellers spun up, and it rose into the air.

The old monk, who had remained silent, walked around the area. Yamiru turned to look and saw that the old monk had snapped off a row of large trees around them with a single kick.

The helicopter ascended, quickly becoming a small black dot against the narrow stretch of sky, then sped off into the distance.

Yamiru stopped swinging his arms and thought, "When I think about it, Delat and the old monk… seems like i have spent the most time together with them since arriving in this world."

Even though he had spent more than five months in South City, Yamiru had always been alone. He had never really gotten close to anyone. There was no one he could truly call a friend.

Then, he met Tonpo, who could be considered a half-friend. But just a few days later, the situation with Blue arose, followed by being kicked into the sea by a mysterious elder, chased by sharks, hurriedly joining the martial arts tournament on Papaya Island, and then being slapped to the northern hemisphere.

The old monk took a few steps forward and noticed Yamiru had stopped, staring into the sky, lost in thought. "What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking..." Yamiru turned his gaze back and grinned. "Even if I can't find Paozu Mountain in the end, meeting so many people and experiencing so many things along the way has already been pretty interesting!"

The old monk chuckled. "Let's go."

"Hey!"

The two of them continued on their way.

Compared to the wild jungles outside, the Heil City Forest Park, while still retaining some of its primitive charm, was much easier to navigate. Some areas clearly showed signs of human maintenance, and occasionally, signs marked the path.

The wildlife had diminished considerably, likely because most animals were kept in captivity, only released at scheduled intervals for some fresh air. After walking for half the day, Yamiru hadn't encountered any large beasts. He had been particularly hoping for some dinosaur meat, a specialty of Dragon Ball Earth, but alas, he hadn't had the chance to try any yet, which he found quite regrettable.

The old monk and Yamiru walked and stopped intermittently, practicing martial arts and sparring when the opportunity arose. The old monk would suddenly reach out to grab Yamiru by the back of the neck, simulating a sneak attack.

After learning the hard way a few times, Yamiru became far more alert. Though he couldn't match the old monk's acute hearing, which allowed him to detect the movements of a rabbit from several meters away, Yamiru was getting better at responding to attacks from behind.

"You're slower than last time," the old monk said, smiling as he withdrew his hand.

Yamiru had already leapt several meters away, helplessly saying, "You were quieter than last time!" He thought to himself, "Is this the true martial skill of the old monk? Maybe it's even higher than this!"

Thinking about the first time Son Goku and the others participated in the World Martial Arts Tournament, Yamiru felt both a great deal of pressure and excitement. He longed to visit Paozu Mountain, learn the Turtle School's martial arts from Son Gohan, and become a great master himself.

The two continued walking.

The forest park, which had been artificially maintained, felt like a leisurely excursion compared to the wild jungles outside. It was relaxing and easygoing.

Gradually, after walking several dozen kilometers, the paths became more organized, with several concrete roads appearing. There were also a few visitors, dressed nicely, scattered about.

Following the path markers for a few more kilometers, the crowd grew larger. Most of them were backpackers, or young people in sports gear jogging along the paths.

Yamiru hadn't run in a while! He noticed several joggers passing by, and his feet itched to join them.

The joggers were all properly equipped—sports shirts, tight leggings, running shoes, and some even wore headbands and sported earphones. Yamiru couldn't help but look down at himself.

He was still wearing the cloth clothes and shoes that the middle-aged man and his nephew had given him, which were basic and simple. "Damn! No wonder that guy looked at me funny!" Yamiru suddenly found it amusing, realizing he must have looked like a country bumpkin. Though he had been on Dragon Ball Earth for six months, he had never bothered to buy any sports gear.

"Well, who cares!" Yamiru shrugged it off. He hadn't had the money before, and now that he did, he wasn't interested. Just then, he saw two figures briefly struggling ahead near an intersection.

The forest was dense and dim, and if it weren't for Yamiru's improved eyesight after awakening his Golde eyes, he probably wouldn't have noticed them.

The old monk frowned.

"Seriously?" Yamiru noticed the old monk's ears twitch, clearly surprised. "Don't tell me you can hear that from so far away!" He pointed ahead.

The old monk just waved his hand, but Yamiru had already sped up and ran ahead. He reached the spot where the figures had passed, then turned and darted into the woods.

Soon, Yamiru emerged, dragging a werewolf by the fur. The werewolf, much larger than Yamiru, was tossed casually onto the road like trash.

The werewolf, bruised and battered, rolled on the ground in pain, while a disheveled girl in sportswear walked out from the forest behind him.

She had come to the park for a run, wearing a light, breathable jacket over a sports tank top, with short sport shorts that showed off her long, white legs. When Yamiru had entered earlier, the werewolf had already torn off part of her tank top, and the sports bra was almost completely exposed. Yamiru was furious and kicked the werewolf away.

"Thank you, thank you..." the girl tightly wrapped her jacket around herself, repeatedly thanking Yamiru.

"Ai..." the werewolf groaned from the ground.

"Still moaning?" Yamiru stomped on the werewolf's head. "Keep Moaning, and I'll crush your skull!"

The werewolf immediately stopped.

"Rapists are at the bottom of the prison food chain, you know?" Yamiru sneered.

The girl, saved by Yamiru, thought it was a little strange hearing those words from a ten-year-old kid...

Yamiru raised his leg and kicked the werewolf into the trees across the road.

With his Golden Veil, he saw the werewolf limping as he tried to flee after rolling into the trees. Yamiru quickly chased him down like the wind, dragged him back, and threw him to the ground, delivering another beating.

"Stop! Please stop!" the werewolf shouted, curling up and covering his head.

Yamiru stopped kicking and turned to the girl. "What should we do with him?"

The girl hesitated and said, "I... I just want to go home..."

Yamiru was surprised. "Aren't you going to call the police?"

She hesitated again. "No... I don't want to. If I do... my boyfriend will find out..."

"Suit yourself." Yamiru didn't argue. He turned to the werewolf on the ground, smiling. "Hand your hand."

The werewolf reluctantly reached out his hand.

Yamiru grabbed his hand and tossed him into the nearest tree, where he hung helplessly.

After thanking Yamiru again, the girl quickly left.

For Yamiru and the old monk, rescuing someone was just a minor detour on their journey. They quickly moved on, walking away from the scene.

The werewolf hung in the tree until nightfall, too pained to come down. The boy had hit him hard, and though it didn't kill him or cripple him, the pain was unbearable.

Finally, when the moon rose, the werewolf, tears streaming down his face, clung to the top of the tree. "Full moon! You've finally come out!" he sobbed. "I shouldn't have gone drinking last full moon! This month as a werewolf has been hell—lost my job, my girlfriend, and now I'm stuck here, crying like a fool..."

Through blurry eyes, he gazed at the full moon before suddenly transforming into a man with a sausage-shaped mouth.

"No! I have to practice martial arts too!" the man declared, climbing down from the tree with newfound resolve.

---

Meanwhile, Yamiru and the old monk quickly exited the forest park and entered the city of Heil City. With an entire box of cash on him, Yamiru took the old monk to a hotel. They relaxed, soaking in hot baths, and rolled around on the soft, plush bed for a while.

After an hour of rest, Yamiru and the old monk set out to find food.

Walking together through the neon-lit streets, the old monk and Yamiru had an air about them that made them seem completely out of place in the city.

After searching for a while without finding any barbecue stalls, Yamiru gave up and led the old monk into a small street-side restaurant. They ordered several plates of meat dishes and a few vegetarian options specifically for the old monk, eating heartily.

Just then, noise erupted outside.

"What's going on?"

Yamiru looked up from his plate, his mouth greasy, and glanced toward the street outside.

A giraffe-person waiter explained, "You don't know? There's a big competition at the dojo across the street today! It's about to start!" He chatted with some other customers and added, "...I heard he has a chance to get the title of Satan!" Yamiru didn't know who they were talking about.

But the word "Satan" caught his attention.

"Oh? This sounds interesting!" Yamiru's curiosity was piqued. He urged the old monk, "Hurry up and eat, ols Monk! Come on!" He picked up his chopsticks and speedily shoved oily meat into his mouth.