Imagine walking down the street, minding your own business, when suddenly a nuclear bomb drops out of nowhere. That's exactly how Yamiru felt when he spotted Whis floating in the sky.
This didn't make sense. Not one bit.
This was supposed to be Dragon Ball — the very beginning. Piccolo Daimao was still cooking in the pot!
And Whis? Showing up now? That wasn't part of the script.
This angel could obliterate him with a single hair strand, shattering both his body and the planet in one casual swipe.
No time to grow stronger, no training arcs — just instant doom. How was anyone supposed to handle that?
Yamiru's mind swirled with a thousand complaints, but when he blinked, the sky was empty. No angel, no Whis. Just a figment of his overactive imagination... probably.
The day was clear and sunny, the breeze gentle, and Yamiru couldn't think of any more poetic descriptions. Shrugging, he continued toward Baba's palace.
"Oh? Back so soon?"
Baba was perched on her crystal ball, quietly counting a small fortune she'd swindled from a wealthy visitor. She looked genuinely surprised to see Yamiru return.
"Baba, I need a reading about my future. I just... I need to know if there's a path worth fighting for," Yamiru said, his voice tinged with unease. After a brief pause, he added with a wry smile, "I know it's silly, weak even…" He sighed. "But ever since that encounter with the Devilman, I've had this nagging feeling. Even if I hate to admit it, doubts have taken root in me. So I thought — why not come here? Get an answer. Good or bad, I'll accept it and move forward."
He rambled on, more to himself than to Baba, who quickly cut him off with a wave of her hand.
"Alright, alright! You want a reading, not therapy. Keep it short!"
Yamiru mumbled under his breath.
"Next time, bring cash or prepare to fight. I'm not running a charity here," Baba retorted.
Yamiru nodded obediently.
"Did you bring money?" Baba asked.
He shook his head.
"I'm the only one here. The others are out looking for the Dragon Balls," he explained.
"Clever, aren't you?" Baba huffed. "But you already defeated the Devilman, and I don't see the point in summoning another fighter."
Yamiru smiled. She wasn't wrong. In the original story, Goku didn't have to fight again after clearing Baba's challenge once.
"I'll face him."
A calm, steady voice interrupted them.
Yamiru turned to see a tall figure wearing an animal mask emerge from a side door.
"I'll be his opponent," the masked man repeated.
Yamiru stared, confused. Who was this guy? He looked just like the masked Gohan, except there was something unsettling about him.
Baba, however, panicked. She jumped off her crystal ball and hurried to block the masked man's path.
"You can't — there's no need to—" she stammered.
"I said, I'll face him."
The man's tone was gentle yet commanding, leaving no room for argument.
Baba hesitated, then relented. "Fine… fine. This way."
She led them both to the arena.
Yamiru, still baffled, climbed onto the stage. The masked man followed, leaping effortlessly into the ring.
Yamiru glanced up, looking for the telltale golden halo above the man's head, but saw nothing.
Activating his Golden Veil, Yamiru scanned the area. The air was filled with swirling clouds of dark golden demonic energy, drifting like an ominous mist. But when he looked at the masked man, he found... nothing. Not a single trace of demonic aura.
So, this masked man was neither a martial artist granted a body after death nor a demon.
As for his ki — Yamiru's Hawkeye vision couldn't even gauge its intensity.
"Is it... too radiant? So overwhelming and brilliant that it feels mild and subdued?" Yamiru speculated, his heart trembling in disbelief. This was even more terrifying than Whis showing up. At least with Whis, Yamiru could reasonably assume that such a supreme deity wouldn't bother with a mere mortal. But who was this guy?
The masked man didn't seem to notice Yamiru's subtle analysis. He simply turned to Baba and asked, "Can we begin?"
"Oh, yes, please... please start!" Baba stammered, visibly flustered, beads of sweat forming on her face.
"Is that really necessary?" Yamiru thought, puzzled by Baba's reaction. Sure, this guy seemed strong, but wasn't Baba supposed to be a formidable figure herself? Someone who could travel between realms, bring the living into the afterlife, and resurrect the dead? Why was she so deferential?
At that moment, the masked man moved.
It wasn't anything fancy — just a straightforward dash toward Yamiru, hands still clasped behind his back.
But in Yamiru's enhanced vision, the man left a dark shadow in his wake, and before the shadow even dissipated, the masked man was already in front of him.
The sheer pressure triggered Yamiru's reflexes, and he swung a punch at the incoming threat.
Yet, his fist hit nothing but air when trying to strike the man's body, which was nothing more than an afterimage.
The Afterimage Technique!
Embarrassingly, this was Yamiru's first time witnessing the move in person.
Gohan's teaching had stuck strictly to the Kame school basics, without introducing specific techniques. Sure, Gohan knew the Afterimage Technique, but he hadn't passed it down to Yamiru or Goku. Goku had always been the type to learn by observation anyway. Yamiru, on the other hand, had simply forgotten about it.
His golden eyes scanned the ring, searching for the masked man amidst the faint ki traces left behind.
But all he could see were fleeting silhouettes at the very edge of his visual perception. Suddenly, an attack came from the side!
Startled, Yamiru lunged toward the source, only to find another afterimage.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The ring was soon filled with over a dozen afterimages of the masked man.
Each afterimage was strikingly vivid, posed in different positions — some standing, some crouching, some bending, one even comically balancing on its head.
"Where is he?!"
Yamiru ignored the illusions. These weren't Shadow Clones; they had no independent movement — merely tricks to confuse the eyes.
Suddenly, among the afterimages, he noticed one containing a faint trace of ki.
Yamiru sprang into action, launching an attack.
The "afterimage" moved, crossing its arms to block his punch. When Yamiru's fist made contact, it felt like striking reinforced steel beams.
Before he could follow up, the blocking figure dissolved into yet another afterimage.
"This is getting ridiculous!"
Frustrated, Yamiru focused all his attention, golden light flickering in his eyes as he tracked his opponent.
Bam! Bam!
The sound of impacts echoed across the empty air.
Baba looked on silently.
Now, the afterimages in the ring included not just the masked man's but Yamiru's as well. The two sets of figures clashed in a dizzying dance of attacks and defenses, their movements so fast they left countless overlapping remnants.
"Did he just learn the Afterimage Technique in such a short time?" Baba muttered, astonished.
The ring was soon flooded with paired afterimages of Yamiru and the masked man, locked in various battle stances.
Boom!
A final, resounding clash.
Yamiru lay pinned beneath the masked man's foot, his face pressed into the ring, one arm twisted behind his back.
"Damn it." Yamiru grumbled.
"You've lost," the masked man said calmly, his tone still gentle and composed. Releasing his hold, he lifted Yamiru to his feet. "But you did well. For someone so young, your skills are impressive. I didn't expect Earth's younger generation to be this talented. Baba, please fulfill his request."
Still dazed, Yamiru didn't know what to say.
Baba hesitated, then sighed. "Well, since you've asked... Yamiru, what exactly do you want me to divine?"
Climbing down from her crystal ball, she waited for his answer.
Yamiru thought for a moment, then slowly said, "I want to know if there will ever come a day in my future when I can punch Earth into pieces."