Chapter 102: Farewell

On the fortieth day in the hospital, Yamiru continued his rehabilitation training.

He was doing single-leg squats.

Shirtless and barefoot, he wore only a pair of loose shorts that Tights had given him.

Extending both arms and his left leg forward, he balanced solely on his right foot, repeatedly squatting and standing.

Sweat dripped steadily onto the floor, forming a damp patch beneath him.

"One hundred forty... one hundred forty-six... one hundred fifty..."

Exhaling rhythmically, Yamiru gritted his teeth and finished his second set of single-leg squats. As he relaxed, his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, his muscles aching with fatigue. Sweat glistened on his skin, accentuating the lines and definition of his musculature.

The rehab room was spacious, but a few nurses couldn't help stealing glances at Yamiru, who was sitting on the floor in the corner.

At the doorway, nurses and doctors from other departments occasionally appeared, curious about the "muscular young boy" they'd heard about in the rehab room. Among them were the freckle-faced nurse, the stern-looking female doctor, and even the janitor with a fox-like tail. They had all come to catch a glimpse out of curiosity.

"Wow, his muscles are gorgeous."

"He's so young... the contrast is just too adorable!"

"Those muscles are huge\~"

"I heard he's the son of a martial arts champion. Did you see? He just did hundreds of squats in one go. So cool!"

"Little hottie..."

The nurses whispered amongst themselves.

On the other side of the room, Tights sat on a cushioned stool, busily scribbling in her notebook. Hearing the chatter from the nearby nurses, she couldn't help but feel amused. "These women... are they fangirling over a kid? Yamiru is so young!"

Turning her gaze toward the boy sprawled out on the floor, Tights admitted to herself that, yes, his physique was impressive—especially for someone his age.

"Still," she thought to herself, "dodging rapid gunfire with a pistol pressed to your forehead was much cooler... even if he doesn't remember it."

Yamiru indeed couldn't recall what had happened that day.

When Tights described it to him, even he found it unbelievable.

"Pressing his forehead against a pistol and dodging bullets? Was he really that reckless?"

"How did I pull that off?!"

"Had his fever caused him to lose his senses, somehow enhancing his combat ability? Yamiru couldn't make sense of it."

At the same time, he couldn't help but feel a lingering fear. This illness had almost killed him; he had come so close to not surviving. If people found out that he'd been transported to the Dragon Ball world and died of a simple cold, it would be utterly humiliating—a disgrace among transmigrators. Thankfully, Tights had found him just in time and saved his life.

And then...

"That day, I really did summon the Flying Nimbus, didn't I..." Yamiru lay on the floor of the rehab room, gazing at the blue sky and white clouds through the window. "Flying Nimbus... Flying Nimbus... Haha, I actually got to ride it? Ah, if only my mind had been clearer then. I can barely remember what it felt like to sit on it... But maybe if I'd been more conscious, I'd have had too many distractions and wouldn't have been able to summon it at all. Fate works in strange ways... I hope I can make it safely to Mount Paozu someday and thank the Flying Nimbus in person."

Day 50

Yamiru's recovery progressed rapidly.

To the doctors, the fact that he'd survived at all was already a miracle.

As he recovered from his illness, Yamiru could feel his strength returning day by day. His stamina, explosive power, and reflexes were steadily improving, and his spirits lifted in tandem with his physical health. Unfortunately, without a scouter to measure power levels, no ability to sense ki, and no way for his Golden Eyes to gauge his own energy, Yamiru remained unsure about his current strength or how much it had grown.

"If I were a Saiyan, my power level would have at least increased seven, eight, or nine times by now, right?" he often thought.

The absurd resilience of Saiyans was truly enviable.

In the hospital's gym, Yamiru conducted simple tests on his abilities.

Treadmills, bench presses, seated presses, pull-ups... He broke every record the gym had to offer. Eventually, his best treadmill run stood at 50 kilometers in one hour—a feat that left everyone in the gym stunned. Doctors, nurses, patients... whether human, anthropomorphic animal, or some kind of monster, all of them wore expressions of disbelief, as if they'd collectively turned into Mr. Satan.

One doctor, previously the gym's top performer, challenged Yamiru to a push-up contest. They began with the simplest version, but Yamiru used only one hand. By the time the doctor collapsed onto the floor, panting like a dog, Yamiru was still effortlessly doing one-handed push-ups.

"I must have gotten stronger!" Yamiru thought to himself. "But it's still far from enough... When Goku and Krillin first graduated from Master Roshi's training and entered the Martial Arts Tournament, they could catch punches from regular martial artists with a single finger. I can't even imagine doing that. Which means... my power level is nowhere near 100 yet. Damn it! Why is it that when others transmigrate to the Dragon Ball world, they can train in isolation and casually achieve power levels in the hundreds or even figure out ki on their own, while I can't even break 100?"

Day 64

"Hey! Spacing out again?"

Tights voice snapped Yamiru back to reality. The two of them were seated in the hospital's café. Tights had a cup of coffee and a notebook filled with scribbles in front of her.

It had all started when Yamiru, feeling guilty about how much Tights had done for him during his recovery, offered to help brainstorm ideas for her novel.

Though most of Yamiru's "web novel-style" ideas didn't resonate with Tights—just as he found this world's entertainment uninspiring—they still had fun brainstorming together. Their lively conversations often led to unexpected creative sparks.

Yamiru chuckled and continued chatting with Tights.

In truth, he was well enough to be discharged from the hospital. However, Tights pointed out that since his hospital bills were being charged to her father's bank account, he could stay as long as he wanted without worrying about the cost. Besides, the hospital's facilities were ideal for his rehabilitation, and moving out would only mean finding a new place to stay.

Yamiru didn't argue and chose to stay. Each day was filled with training, laughter, and lighthearted conversations with Tights.

For the first time since his arrival in the Dragon Ball world, he was experiencing a relaxed and comfortable life.

"How about I sneak you out to buy some clothes?" Tights teased. "I'm getting tired of seeing you in that hospital gown."

Yamiru hesitated. "I don't have any money..."

"Don't worry," Tights replied with a grin. "I've got some royalties saved up."

Yamiru paused, unsure. "Isn't that a bit inappropriate?"

Tights swung her shoulder bag over her arm, already a few steps ahead, and waved him over. "Come on\~!"

The two wandered through the bustling city streets as Tights picked out some clothes for Yamiru. Initially, she had him try on children's clothing, but after receiving a death glare from him, she opted for simple and modest athletic wear.

Tights had brought him out for a change of scenery, hoping to ease the monotony of nearly two months spent in the hospital. However, instead of relaxing, Yamiru seemed increasingly contemplative.

"What's wrong?" Tights turned back, puzzled. Yamiru had slowed down, falling behind her. Dressed in his new athletic outfit, he had stopped at some point, gazing up at a city map posted at the intersection. When Tights walked back to him, he finally said, "I used to always carry a map with me."

"A map?" Tights blinked, confused.

Yamiru lowered his head, thought for a moment, then smiled. "Tights, I've had a great time these past weeks, but… it's time for me to move on."

"You're still planning to find that place—Mount Paozu?" Tights seemed a little surprised.

Yamiru responded calmly, "If I don't, I know I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

"I thought you might have given up."

"Why would you think that?" Yamiru was genuinely surprised.

"Well…" Tights considered her words carefully. "You just don't seem to have that wounded lone wolf vibe anymore. It's hard to describe, but since you woke up, you've been easier to get along with. Did I ever tell you that while you were unconscious, you used to flinch at the sound of the heart monitor? It seemed like you were afraid of that sound."

Yamiru was taken aback. "Really?" The idea that his time in Dr. Gero's lab had left such a deep subconscious scar startled him.

Tights smiled softly and sighed. "I know you're keeping some secrets. When you saved me that day, you smelled strongly of blood... And when they brought you to the hospital, the doctors noticed something strange. Your left wrist and both ankles had this peculiar discoloration. According to them, it was as if your hands and feet had been severed and regrown…"

Yamiru remained silent.

"It must have been tough," Tights said quietly. "You know, I'm a light novel author, so I tend to imagine things. I just hope that what you've been through isn't as terrible as what I picture in my head." She reached up and ruffled Yamiru's hair. "Honestly, though, you're really impressive, but… do you really have to push yourself so hard?"

"I have to push myself," Yamiru said suddenly.

"What?" Tights was stunned.

"Nothing," Yamiru replied with a smile. He didn't mind her ruffling his hair despite the height difference. "Can you get me a map? I lost all my stuff."

"Sure," Tights nodded, smiling. "I'll also check for flights to see if there's a faster way to get you there—"

"No need," Yamiru interrupted. "I'll walk."

On the sixty-fifth day since meeting Tights, Yamiru left the hospital. Carrying a simple backpack, he stood amidst the bustling streets and bid her farewell.

"Walking the whole way sounds ridiculous," Tights muttered under her breath.

Yamiru smiled faintly and waved. "See you around! I'm sure we'll meet again someday."

"Bye-bye\~!"

Tights watched as Yamiru strode away, disappearing into the crowd. She murmured to herself, "What a strange boy... But then again, if he's met aliens, being a little odd is probably normal. Hehe."

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