Chapter 103: Fry-pan (Part 1)

After leaving the city where Tights lived, Yamiru resumed his journey.

This time, his supplies were far less comprehensive than when he had first departed from Slope City. Back then, he had everything he could possibly need: a variety of rations, ample water, two sleeping bags, a single-person tent, a waterproof flashlight, steel nylon rope, a compass, an equipment bag, and even a couple of spare empty capsules. However, after his encounter with the Red Ribbon Army, all of that was gone.

When Yamiru escaped from Dr. Gero's lab, there was no time to consider retrieving his belongings. The situation was dire, and just being able to grab the sword that Jiora had given him was a stroke of luck—though in the end, even that sword was left behind in the mountains near the Red Ribbon Army base. But if trading it meant taking out that vile man, Blue, it was worth it.

Now, his possessions were limited to a small amount of food, a canteen of water, and the map Tights had bought for him.

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The Earth of the Dragon Ball world was a peculiar place.

Urban areas were thoroughly modern—sometimes even futuristic—while rural areas were deeply traditional, sometimes resembling ancient villages.

Outside these human settlements, however, nature was strikingly untamed. The infrastructure connecting cities was sparse; in some places, it was nonexistent. Bandits roamed like weeds, ready to ambush anyone daring enough to travel by car. Travelers risked being mugged, devoured by ruthless monsters, or even snatched up by massive wild dinosaurs.

Fortunately, people in the Dragon Ball world were generally quite resilient.

Those with skills didn't fear roadside scum; the more aggressive ones might even turn the tables on the bandits. Those without skills but with money often traveled by airship or with reputable tour bus groups on safe routes. As for those with neither skills nor money? They usually stayed close to home—or they were the ones waiting to ambush others in "remote" areas, preparing for their next heist.

Although Yamiru had yet to become a disciple at Mount Paozu, he could still be considered someone with modest skills but no money.

After leaving the city, he walked steadily along a wilderness road.

Once he had left the bustling urban area behind, the world seemed to fall into a tranquil silence.

The road became narrower and more rugged as Yamiru continued his journey. The scenery around him transitioned from open plains to patches of grassland, dense forests, and finally, untouched natural landscapes where traces of human intervention disappeared entirely. On either side, he was surrounded by picturesque mountains and rivers. The path beneath his feet was no longer a man-made road but a simple dirt trail that blended harmoniously with the serene surroundings.

"Looking back now... being slapped across the sea, stumbling out of a primeval jungle, meeting a lost alien, visiting Bulma's home in West City and returning, schooling two unruly kids, wiping out the vile Rabbit Army, saving a few lives, and taking down part of the Red Ribbon Army..."

As he walked, Yamiru recounted his recent adventures, unable to suppress a small chuckle.

"...What a mess. Getting captured by Gero's people and subjected to who knows what kind of experiments for who knows how many days! But I was lucky. Thank goodness I didn't waste that last half of a Senzu Bean. And thank goodness Gero never figured out what it could really do. That little bean saved me, let me escape. Still, to think I'd nearly freeze to death in the mountains... Unbelievable. Calling the Flying Nimbus at the last moment, rescuing those kids when I thought I was on my last legs, and then getting saved by Tights..."

Yamiru closed his eyes, spread his arms wide, and allowed the vivid memories to wash over him.

"This journey of mine has barely begun, yet it's already been more thrilling than anything I could've dreamed of in my past life. Back then, even if I'd lived to a ripe old age, I'd never have experienced anything this extraordinary. I've had my fill of being ordinary. Now, all I want is to live a life without regrets."

Opening his eyes, he exhaled deeply, a broad grin spreading across his face. He laughed heartily, letting the sound echo through the open air.

"Leaving South City—what a blessing! Competing in the World Martial Arts Tournament—what a blessing! Meeting Tights—what a blessing! And now Mount Paozu lies ahead—truly, what a blessing!"

Bursting with emotion, Yamiru broke into a wild sprint, his feet pounding the ground as he leapt and punched the air. The excitement within him demanded release, and he shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Don't you agree, Flying Nimbus?!"

He hollered at the sky, hoping for a response, perhaps the sight of a golden cloud descending from above. But alas, there was none.

"Looks like you're done with me, huh? Fine, Flying Nimbus."

Yamiru laughed to himself, shaking his head, and continued down the dirt trail.

The journey was monotonous, yet Yamiru had a knack for entertaining himself, which kept loneliness at bay.

As the sun dipped westward, dusk painted the sky in golden hues.

The stars descended, the night enchanting.

With the heavens as his blanket and the earth as his bed, Yamiru slept soundly under the open sky. Since recovering from his severe illness, it seemed his immune system had strengthened. Despite sleeping so casually outdoors, he woke up the next morning feeling perfectly fine—no discomfort, only renewed energy. With nothing much to pack, he simply continued on his way.

Without a compass, all he had to rely on was a map and his memory. He had marked Mount Paozu somewhere in the eastern mountain ranges on the map based on what he remembered. Thinking back to the survival skills he'd learned from Delat after rescuing him from the Rabbit Army's den, Yamiru couldn't help but feel fortunate. Without those lessons, he might not even know which way was east.

"I think... Orin Temple was somewhere around..."

The Fourteenth Monk came to mind. After recalling their conversation, Yamiru roughly marked the location of Orin Temple on the map. Thinking of monks led to thoughts about good and evil, which in turn reminded him of killing, and inevitably, the Rabbit gang. His mood soured.

"Should I use the Dragon Balls to resurrect those people who got turned into carrots and eaten?"

Another day passed, and as night fell once more, Yamiru lay under the stars, lost in thought.

"But doesn't resurrection require a complete body? Even Porunga on Namek had to mention that rebuilding Krillin's body and moving his soul to Earth was a 'free bonus.' I guess that was thanks to the Grand Elder of Namek. Could I possibly have enough sway with Shenron on Earth to get him to 'donate' a bunch of bodies for free? Probably not... Spending two years to resurrect them? First year to reconstruct the bodies, second year to bring them back to life? In a year, wouldn't those reconstructed corpses already be rotting? Come to think of it, the people who died at the hands of the Rabbit Army long ago were probably just ordinary humans. No sins to condemn them to hell, no merits to grant them heaven—they likely reincarnated shortly after death. In that case, resurrection would be impossible..."

As his thoughts wandered, drowsiness crept in. He murmured, "Trying to be a good person... it's exhausting... self-inflicted suffering... zzz..."

Yamiru fell into a deep sleep, snoring peacefully for several hours. By dawn, he woke with the first light of morning, brushing aside the troubles of resurrection. He resolved to simply focus on his journey and deal with such matters later.

Walking under the rising sun, Yamiru was in high spirits. He pressed on confidently, until, fourteen days later, he came to a realization: he was hopelessly lost.