Dragon Ball Human

By the time the Dragon Ball series reached its later stages, the stage of the World Martial Arts Tournament was clearly no longer sufficient to measure the combat abilities of the main characters. But people still had a strange sentimental attachment to it.

This "people" included the oldest Dragon Ball warriors, like Son Goku and Krillin, as well as the little boys who used to wait in front of broken TVs after school for the opening theme of the Dragon Ball anime to play. It also included those who, as they grew up, went to school, graduated, started working, and when watching anime on the internet that they didn't understand or recognize, would always think back to the old Dragon Ball episodes.

Of course, it also included Sato Yamiru.

In his past life, he was indeed an ordinary person—ordinary enough that he never fought a single battle in twenty years of school. As a well-behaved person, he naturally couldn't become a combative troublemaker just by transmigrating. What he longed for was not necessarily the title of "World's Best", but rather the pure beauty conveyed by the story in Dragon Ball—that kind of striving and passion.

"Kame…hame…"

Yamiru folded the poster and stuffed it into his pocket, smiling as he raised both hands, palms together, facing outward, mimicking the gesture for the move, muttering the technique's name.

"Hm?" He suddenly stopped.

Because, outside the car window, a pig-headed man holding a camera appeared and jumped in front of Yamiru's car.

"Isn't that the pig who was talking tough yesterday? Guess he really came looking for trouble..."

Yamiru saw the pig outside seemingly saying something, and assumed it was just more of his nonsense. After a brief pause, he decided to get out of the car.

"Big brother! Big brother!" The pig-headed Tonpo shouted as he came closer.

"So, you wanna fight, huh? Wait a sec, let me move the car first," Yamiru raised his hand to stop Tonpo, then ran to the back of the car, unloading the heavy packages. After pressing a button on the side of the small truck, a boom sounded and, with a puff of smoke, the truck reverted to its original capsule form.

Yamiru reached out, skillfully grabbing the capsule that fell from the smoke. He had practiced this a lot, and now he could catch the capsule mid-air. Before, he had always failed to catch it, letting it fall to the ground and picking it up again—it just didn't look cool.

There were many types and sizes of transformation capsules, and Yamiru's truck capsule was one of the types with a fixed load capacity. Specifically, this meant that when reverting to capsule form, the excess weight in the truck couldn't exceed the factory-set weight by much, or else the reversion would fail. This made Yamiru reconsider the idea of casually using a transformation capsule as a "storage bag."

Perhaps capsules like the ones Bulma used for her mobile house could hold more weight, like adding a fridge, sofa, or an electric bike inside. But those kinds of capsules… the price was likely astronomical.

"Alright, where's the so-called scary friend? Call him out," Yamiru said, finishing organizing the packages and putting the capsule away. He glanced at his watch, "I still have work to do."

"Big brother, I was just joking yesterday, heh heh." Tonpo wrapped his arm around Yamiru's, grinning broadly, "The fiercest drunken elephant on this street was kicked around by you. I can't think of anyone tougher than you."

"You saw that?" Yamiru was surprised. So this pig had been secretly watching while he was making deliveries?

"I accidentally saw it," Tonpo said, looking all ingratiating, "After the 'criticism and education' you gave me yesterday, I've realized my mistake and won't do bad things anymore."

Criticism and education? Yamiru was confused. Yesterday, he was just venting his frustration on this guy. How is that considered 'criticism and education'?

"To witness the transformation you've brought to me, and my complete turnaround, how about we take a photo together?" Tonpo looked at Yamiru expectantly, gripping his arm tightly with one hand, and already pulling out a camera with the other.

Yamiru, still a bit confused, shrugged. "Fine, go ahead."

"Heh heh!" Tonpo eagerly stood next to Yamiru.

Click click! Tonpo frantically pressed the shutter, changing poses... Since the pig-headed guy had short claws, they had to stand close together, making Yamiru uncomfortable. It also made it look like they were very close and had a great relationship.

"Thanks, big brother!" Tonpo was still bowing from a distance as Yamiru packed up his truck and prepared to leave.

Yamiru, driving away, couldn't help but rub his chin in thought.

"Mm... so he 'turned over a new leaf' because of me messing with that drunken elephant, and he was watching from the shadows the whole time..."

"He's probably scared of my strength, and now he's trying to get closer to me, huh? But why is he doing that?"

"Does he not fear me losing my temper and beating him up again?"

"Unless... he's willing to risk a beating just to get a photo with me?"

Yamiru delivered the last of the packages and headed back to the company. Throughout the drive, he kept thinking about Tonpo, the pig-headed guy.

"Taking a photo... well... at least from that photo alone, it shows that one, he knows me, two, we seem to have a decent relationship, and three, there's a record of my image. Also, this guy has been tailing me before. When I was messing with that drunken elephant, he was taking pictures too? Tch... I bet he's trying to set me up. If someone's after him, he might use me as a shield, get me to take the fall. This damn pig..."

"Whatever, as long as it's not some 'ordinary expert' from the World Martial Arts Tournament or someone from the fighting league, I can probably still handle it..."

After running the whole situation through his head a few times, Yamiru finally returned to his small, rundown house on the outskirts.

"Whoosh."

He placed the poster for the 18th World Martial Arts Tournament, which he had brought back, next to the already yellowed poster for the 17th tournament, pressing them down to smooth out the creases.

Head, he would continue to live his days lazily... Tail, he would set out to find Master Roshi...

Yamiru took out the two coins from his pocket and placed them on the table. He gave them a spin, watching them whirl until they slowed down and came to a stop, one with heads up, the other tails.

"Tch..." He clicked his tongue, flipping the posters over. To his surprise, on the back of the old, yellowed 17th tournament poster, there was a drawing.

It was a hand-drawn Super Saiyan Goku by Yamiru himself.

Though it looked like a bit of a crude sketch, Yamiru was actually quite pleased with it. It was a far cry from the random doodles he used to do in elementary school.

"Sigh..."

Yamiru rested his chin on the table, pressing down on the eyes of his drawing of Super Saiyan Goku. "I envy you, Goku... Why don't I have a cheat like you? Am I really not the main character?"

He mumbled to himself, eventually drifting off to sleep...

He had lunch at the company, which was a work meal. By the time it was almost 2 PM, he had entered the most tired part of the day.

When he finally opened his eyes again, it was already after 4 PM.

Looking into the small mirror on the desk, Yamiru was startled to see... his eyes had turned golden?

He blinked, and when he looked again, they were back to their usual deep brown, typical for someone of Asian descent. There was nothing golden about them. Yamiru couldn't help but self-deprecate, realizing that he'd probably just imagined it after obsessing over the idea of some special power.