Chapter 404: You Came From Here
South City
A vagrant shuffled toward a park bench, clutching a tattered sack. Spotting a discarded drink carton, he reached for it—only for the person sitting on the bench to pick it up first and hand it to him.
"Oh, thanks." The vagrant tossed it into his sack and glanced up. The stranger wore ordinary clothes but had a peculiar animal mask covering his face. 'Has this guy been here for days?' he wondered as he walked away.
By afternoon, the vagrant circled back out of curiosity. The masked figure was still there, posture unchanged, staring at the lake.
'What's so interesting about a lake that you'd stare at it all day?'
"I'm waiting for someone," the stranger answered.
"Who waits this long unless it's for a beauty?" The vagrant grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.
"It's not a beauty."
"Then why bother…" Grumbling, the vagrant left.
At night, he sneaked into the park, planning to sleep on the bench—only to find the shadowy figure still seated there.
'Is this guy insane?!' He marched over to lecture the fool, but as he approached, the animal mask turned toward him. A glint of gold flashed in the eyeholes, seeping into the vagrant's vision. Dazed, he stumbled away without another word…
---
Yamiru sat silently on the bench, waiting.
His golden eyes reflected the moonlit lake—the very spot where, if his memory served, he had first awakened after crossing into this world.
A century ago, he had passed the mantle of Kami to Piccolo. Now, as a lingering spirit of the afterlife, he resided in the Supreme Elderly Lord's domain, Mount Five Elements, overseeing the balance between life and death.
Despite King Yemma's protests, he had left the mountain weeks ago, journeying to the bustling South City.
And so, he waited.
Night faded into dawn… Sun climbed to noon… Park-goers passed by, barely noticing the masked figure frozen in time.
Yamiru wasn't sure what he expected—a mundane crossing? A grand conspiracy? A puppeteer pulling strings?
Day after day, the First Kami's patience held firm.
---
Then, on a clear summer morning, the wind carried the scent of lakewater and grass. Dragonflies and butterflies danced along the shore—a harmony shattered when, without warning, a boy appeared by the water's edge.
'How…?'
Had Yamiru not trusted his own focus, he'd have thought he imagined it. No spatial rift, no thunder, no light—just a boy curled up, unconscious, as if he'd always been there.
Yamiru didn't move.
He kept waiting.
An hour later, the vagrant returned, shaking the boy awake.
The dazed confusion in the boy's eyes mirrored a memory buried deep in Yamiru's past—one he hadn't touched in centuries.
"What the hell?" The boy backed away from the homeless man, his face a mix of shock and frustration. He frantically checked himself over, yelling, "Are you kidding me?!"
He was speaking Mandarin—a language Yamiru had nearly forgotten.
Yamiru silently followed the bewildered boy, who, still weak and inexperienced, naturally couldn't sense his presence.
Dazed, the boy left the park and stopped at the street corner, staring in disbelief at the scene before him. The strange architecture, the bizarre vehicles, the animal-headed humanoids walking by—everything clashed violently with his worldview. The foreign language buzzing in his ears only added to the surrealism.
Yamiru stood beside him, arms crossed, silent.
"This isn't right, this can't be real!" the boy muttered under his breath, struggling to process it all. Then, across the street, a sheep-headed woman pulled a capsule from her purse, tossed it to the ground, and—'poof'—a motorcycle materialized. The boy's jaw dropped. "No way! I'm supposed to be my brother's groomsman tomorrow! What kind of sick joke is this?!"
Panicked, he took off running—not that he had any idea where to go.
Yamiru followed at a leisurely pace.
He watched as the boy collided with a tiger-headed man—and somehow, the boy sent the larger figure sprawling. The tiger-man roared, grabbing the boy to teach him a lesson, only for the boy to shove him away with unnatural strength, sending him crashing to the ground again.
"What the...?" The boy stared at his own hands in disbelief.
The tiger-man groaned, clutching his side. "You little—"
The boy, still confused, took a step forward. The tiger-man instinctively scrambled back, and the boy seized the chance to bolt.
As Yamiru passed by, he flicked a Senzu Bean into the tiger-man's mouth before drifting away.
"Ow... huh? The pain's gone?" The tiger-man blinked, utterly baffled. He glanced in the direction the boy had fled, wondering if he'd just encountered some urban legend.
Evening faded into night.
The boy wandered the streets of this Dragon Ball-esque world, growing hungrier and more exhausted by the minute. He curled up on a bench, only to be woken later by his growling stomach.
Defeated, he returned to the park and stared at the lake, half-tempted to jump in with a rock tied to his feet.
After testing the water temperature, he reconsidered.
His stomach growled again. Spotting the homeless man from earlier, the boy grimaced but reluctantly rummaged through a nearby trash bin, fishing out something barely edible. He gagged as he chewed, muttering between retches, "This is bullshit... Who the hell wants to isekai anyway?!"
High above, silhouetted against the moon, Yamiru hovered silently, his golden eyes behind the animal mask fixed on the boy now asleep on the park bench.
The same scene played out in a mirror back at Mount Five Elements. Annin traced her fingers over the glass, her lips forming soundless words:
'So this is where you came from...'