Chapter 400: Wrong, Wrong, Wrong  

Just as Piccolo felt his stamina nearing its limit, he finally saw it—at the end of the crimson Power Pole staff, a grand hemispherical structure loomed. 

"The Lookout..." 

Piccolo murmured, swaying as he flew closer. From a distance, he looked like a mosquito landing on the rim of a giant bowl. 

His first impression? Vast. Empty. Then came the struggle to breathe—the air was thin at this altitude. 

The colossal palace occupied only a quarter of the temple grounds. The rest was an open plaza and, surprisingly, lush greenery thriving in these conditions. Piccolo soon spotted a dark-skinned man in peculiar attire watering a small garden with a sprinkler. Noticing Piccolo, the man turned with blank eyes and said flatly, "Hello." 

"I..." Piccolo hesitated. "Who are you?" 

"You may call me Mr. Popo," the man replied. "Mr. Popo serves Kami." 

Piccolo tensed, fists clenching unconsciously. "Kami... lives here?" He took a steadying breath. "I've come to see him." 

Mr. Popo pointed casually. "He's right there." 

'What?' Piccolo whirled—and there, hovering cross-legged at the plaza's center, was the white-robed figure from his childhood, still wearing that animal mask. 

'How?!' Piccolo's mind reeled. 'If he was there the whole time, why didn't I notice him earlier?!' 

It was as if Kami had been as invisible as air or sunlight during Piccolo's initial scan of the temple. 

"Ah. You." 

The "air-like" Kami opened his eyes, watching as the nervous Namekian approached. 

Yamiru unfolded his legs and stood. Though Piccolo towered over him, the Namekian seemed oddly hesitant. 

To Piccolo, this being who'd saved him long ago might've been the closest thing to family he'd ever known. 

"Kami..." Piccolo had a thousand questions but felt none were worth voicing. 

Just then, others arrived—Annin and her disciple Fortune-Teller landed gracefully. After two years, Fortune-Teller had grown slightly taller. Her witch hat suddenly lifted, and the tiny Joey popped out, waving cheerfully at Yamiru. She'd hitched a ride from Korin Tower with the pair. 

Yamiru nodded, then eyed the crystal ball floating beside Fortune-Teller. "Your gift?" 

Annin grinned. "Made it myself! Impressed?" 

"Hmm." Yamiru tapped his mask, studying the orb. "It seems... capable of glimpsing the Other World." 

"'Glimpse' is overselling it," Annin demurred. "At best, it offers a peek." 

Yamiru nodded. No wonder this girl would later gain passage between realms—likely inheriting partial authority from her master, the Supreme Elderly Lord. 

Still, comparing the current Fortune-Teller (purple-haired, tornado-esque) to the future hunchbacked, sinister "Fortuneteller Baba"... 

'Yikes.' 

Returning to Piccolo, Yamiru asked, "You still haven't said—why seek me out?" 

Piccolo tore his gaze from Annin and Fortune-Teller. Under Kami's scrutiny, unease prickled his skin. Something was 'wrong' with him, but admitting it felt shameful. 

After a strained pause, he declared, "I want... to grow stronger!" 

His eyes burned with conviction. It was the truth. 

"Wrong answer." Yamiru shook his head and lightly tapped Piccolo's chest. 

'BOOM!' 

Piccolo shot backward like a meteor, vanishing over the temple's edge into the sea of clouds below. 

"Wasn't that too harsh?" Annin leaned over the rim, peering downward. 

Beside her, Joey mimicked the pose. Fortune-Teller glanced between them—what exactly were they staring at in that empty sky? 

---

'What does he want from me?' 

A year had passed since his banishment. Piccolo, now leaning against a lamppost like a vagrant, watched the city's nightlife flow past. 

He wasn't disheartened. "Wrong answer" implied a "right" one existed. 

This past year of wandering had been spent pondering that riddle. 

"Move it, freak!" A shove interrupted his thoughts. 

Piccolo looked down coldly at a homeless man clutching a trash bag. 

Uncontrollable bloodlust surged— 

"What're you staring at?!" the man barked, masking fear with bravado. "Big guy think you're special?!" 

I want to tear him apart, piece by piece... Piccolo's breathing trembled slightly. He felt an indescribable itch beneath his fingernails, as if they were craving blood, screaming for the pleasure of slicing through flesh and bone. Kill him. Kill him! Kill him and unleash the demon within—that is my true self!

"Ptuh!" The vagrant spat a thick glob of phlegm onto the ground, looking smugly at the man who had silently lowered his head and walked away. "Coward!"

Before he could finish gloating, he saw that so-called coward crouch down suddenly. With a thunderous boom, the figure shot into the night sky.

The vagrant instantly froze, dropping the trash he was holding, his expression as if he had just seen the Devil himself. He stood there, mouth agape, for a long moment before rushing forward to inspect the spot where that terrifying guy had taken off. The cement ground had split open into a massive crater, and the two footprints left behind were so deep they sent a chill down his spine.

Staring up at the dark sky, he shuddered. "I should probably go find a job..."

---

Piccolo soared from night into day, cutting through the sea of clouds and arriving once more at the Lookout.

"Hello."

Mr. Popo was still diligently tending to the flowers and plants, his expression and tone unchanged from their meeting a year ago. Piccolo even wondered if the man remembered him at all—or if he simply didn't care.

This time, Piccolo was cautious. He widened his eyes, carefully scanning the entire plaza, determined not to miss anything!

And yet...

There was still no sign of Kami.

Unbelievable. Even with all his pride, Piccolo couldn't help but feel defeated.

"Kami is beneath the palace," Mr. Popo helpfully informed him. "He's asleep. Do you need me to—oh, there he is."

Piccolo shifted from surprise to relief, then quickly to seriousness, as he turned toward the entrance of the palace. Emerging from the deep shadows within was that familiar white-robed figure wearing an animal mask.

Yamiru walked closer, giving Piccolo a casual glance before offering his assessment. "Considering your current stage, your progress is quite impressive."

Piccolo had no idea what that meant.

It seemed to be a reference to the effort he'd put into training over the past year, but what did he mean by "current stage"?

Stage? What stage?

"So, have you figured out what you want to say?" Yamiru asked in a relaxed tone.

"I want to become a Kami!" Piccolo blurted out. He couldn't see the expression behind the mask but quickly tried to explain, "I mean—I want to become your disciple..."

"Wrong answer."

The same two words as before.

Disappointment welled up inside Piccolo, and when he saw Yamiru raise his hand again, he hurriedly tried to salvage the situation. "I want to ask for your help—please, help me..." Just saying those words made him feel like he was swallowing his pride, casting aside all his arrogance and dignity. He pleaded, "Kami, save me..."

He didn't want to become a monster.

But the Kami before him merely shook his head and calmly stated, "Wrong. That makes three times."

Just like a year ago, Yamiru extended a single finger and pushed.

And just like a year ago, Piccolo found himself utterly powerless to resist. In the blink of an eye, he was already plummeting from the Lookout, spiraling through the freezing sky at terrifying speed...

----

At Mount Five Elements, Annin snatched the crystal ball from her disciple, watching as Yamiru once again flicked Piccolo off the Lookout. She pondered aloud, "He's just messing with Piccolo, isn't he...?"

———

Piccolo: 302