The next day, the first warm rays of sunlight spread across the devastated land like a gentle spring breeze.
The disciples of the Muten School rose early to begin their morning training. They practiced martial arts routines, honed their physical strength, and sparred with one another. Most of these practices were established by Mu Taro himself, with some adjustments likely made later by Aragon.
Taro had not insisted that his disciples abandon forms entirely. The method of pure physical training without structured routines was only suitable for martial prodigies like Aragon and Son Goku. For most others, learning martial arts required starting with fundamental techniques and progressing steadily.
Thus, Taro combined the teachings of Mutaito and other martial traditions he had encountered with his own insights to create techniques such as the Twelve Mutaito Palms and the Falling Leaf Kick.
More advanced techniques like the Bukujutsu, Destructo Disk, Dodonpa, Thunderfire finger, and Kamehameha, required a solid mastery of internal ki control before being taught. Moreover, disciples had to pass rigorous tests from their instructors before learning these techniques. While Taro himself cared little about preserving or guarding these arts, his disciples and their successors valued them highly, viewing these techniques as the foundation of their sect.
As for the Muken, most disciples had neither seen nor heard of it. Only a few of Aragon's closest personal students had ever witnessed him use what was rumored to be the founder's secret ultimate technique. Aragon, knowing that this move could only be learned directly through Taro's unique methods, had never attempted to pass it on.
The Muten School traditionally prioritized taking in orphans and vagrants as disciples. These individuals had no familial ties to distract them from their training, and it was also a way for the sect to perform charitable deeds. The sect also accepted children from respectable families in nearby towns and villages. Regardless of their background, all disciples underwent thorough screening. Martial talent and potential were secondary; moral character was paramount. As a result, disputes among disciples were almost nonexistent.
During their visit to Sarfar City the previous day, some disciples had expressed a desire to stay behind and help rebuild their homes. However, they were dragged back to the sect by their fellow disciples for a celebratory night of drinking. This morning, after completing their daily training, many of them could no longer wait and rushed back to assist their families.
\---
When Taro returned, walking under the warm morning sun, he saw a group of people gathered, noisily arguing about something. The phoenix circled above him, its curiosity piqued by the commotion. It flew over Taro's head and perched above the crowd, peering down. In the center of the group stood Nanka, surrounded by his fellow disciples, all clad in white martial arts uniforms—or some shirtless—and all loudly discussing the object in Nanka's hands: a stone of modest size.
This was the stone in which Taro had sealed the Second Generation Piccolo's demonic fetus.
"What's all the commotion?"
The noisy group immediately quieted down upon hearing Taro's voice. They parted and bowed in unison, their voices ringing out: "Founder!"
"Founder, it's this." Nanka stepped forward, pushing his way through the crowd. Holding the stone in his hands, he presented it to Taro. Catching his breath, he explained, "The disciples learned what's inside this stone and started debating…"
Taro examined the stone, which was encased in a powerful and intricate magical seal, leaving no trace of life detectable within. The ancient sealing magic, taught to him by a Holy Magician, had placed Piccolo's egg into a state of forced dormancy.
The stone began to float out of Nanka's hands.
With a rustling sound, fragments of rock broke off from the ground, and countless particles of dust gathered from the air, layering themselves around the floating stone. The layers built up like a spider weaving a web, wrapping the stone tightly without a single gap. Eventually, the small stone expanded into a massive boulder, half the size of a human body.
Nanka and the other disciples exchanged glances before their gazes collectively settled on the enormous boulder now hovering in front of Taro.
"I'll handle this matter myself. There's no need for further discussion."
Shaking his head, Taro extended his palm, effortlessly holding the boulder aloft. Recalling a location from his memory, he gave a subtle flick of his wrist. The motion was light and casual—
Whoosh!
The disciples blinked. The boulder had vanished from Taro's hand. Some felt a gust of wind and turned to look, only to see a tiny black dot rapidly disappearing into the distant sky.
\---
The boulder containing Piccolo sealed egg streaked across the sky, traveling swiftly over land and sea. Eventually, it arrived at a desolate island, plummeting into a dense forest and embedding itself into the ground at the edge of a cliff with a resounding crash. The impact was so powerful that only a few small fragments chipped off the stone.
Below the cliff, nestled within the dense jungle, was a massive, radiating crater tens of meters wide. At the center of the crater lay a partially opened spherical spaceship. Beneath it was a severed demonic warrior's hand, gnawed down to the bone.
This was the very island where Taro, after returning from the Otherworld, had discarded the spaceship, crushing the demon warrior who had been unfortunate enough to stand there. The uninhabited island was a pristine wilderness, and why the demon warrior had wandered there remained a mystery. Regardless, the warrior had no time to react before being obliterated by the descending catastrophe.
\---
As the disciples dispersed, Long Bam approached Taro, hesitating as if struggling to find the right words.
Taro sighed softly, already understanding the young man's intent. Fixing his gaze on Bam, he asked, "Are you truly resolved to do this? Have you made up your mind to enter the Demon Realm and eradicate all the demons?"
Bam's smile was faint but unwavering, matching the determination in his eyes.
"Absolutely!"
"I'm not testing you or trying to scare you," Taro replied. "The Demon Realm is full of uncertainties, and there's a high chance you won't return. Have you really thought this through?"
"I have no regrets. Dying doesn't scare me. The years I've spent training in martial arts feel meaningless when I couldn't protect those around me from being slaughtered one by one. That helplessness is worse than death. Until I personally wipe out those monsters, I'll never find peace. But I lack the strength to do it alone. That's why I'm asking for your help, Master Mu."
His tone carried a plea, yet his resolve was unshakable.
Taro remained silent for a moment. Then, raising his head toward the sky, he called out, "Kinto'un!" His voice, though not loud, carried immense power, piercing through the air.
Soon, from the Sky, a bright yellow cloud separated from the vast white expanse above. Trailing a long tail, it spiraled downward, swiftly coming to a stop beside Taro with a soft whoosh.
Bam stared in astonishment at the golden cloud, its swirling surface appearing almost alive.
"Get on and try it," Taro said, nodding toward the Kinto'un.
"Can I really sit on this?" Bam asked curiously. Without overthinking, he stepped forward and leapt lightly onto the cloud. Having trained in martial arts from a young age and with nearly 100 ki points, the leap to the half-meter-high cloud was effortless.
Landing firmly on the Kinto'un, Bam marveled at the sensation. The cloud felt solid beneath his feet. Testing it further, he shifted his weight, finding it surprisingly stable.
Taro narrowed his eyes slightly, observing him intently.
\---
The next day, Taro, accompanied by the Phoenix, Bam, and a wooden box containing seven white stones, departed from the Muten School Dojo. The disciples tried their best to persuade him to stay, but a single glance from Taro silenced them all, leaving them too afraid to speak further. They followed the trio for miles, watching until the figures of the two humans and one bird gradually faded into the distance.
Along the way, Taro began to teach Bam.
It wasn't that he intended to take him as a disciple, but rather because he saw something in this young man that he himself lacked—a kind of resolve, a pure and sincere heart. To be frank, after learning about the peculiar flow of time in the Demon Realm, Taro had no intention of entering it again.
The last time he spent a day in the Demon Realm, six years had passed in the outside world—a stroke of luck, really. If he were to enter again, it might mean that within the Demon Realm, he would spend a single breath while hundreds of years passed on Earth. The "plot" era had no mention of the Demon Realm or demons, and Taro guessed that by the time the story began, the Earth's Demon Realm would have undergone drastic changes. It could have been in a primitive state with no demons left, or possibly completely void of life, chaotic and devoid of any existence.
So, he was unwilling to take this unnecessary risk, as he still had ties to this world. These ties were to the "familiar strangers" who had not yet come into existence. He didn't avoid the Demon Realm out of fear of death; having experienced death in three lifetimes, he had long since become indifferent to it. However, perhaps it was because of those three lifetimes that many things no longer concerned him, and instead, the seemingly trivial matters became things he cared about deeply.
He didn't want to miss those people.
It was like a kind of emotional attachment and obsession, and it was this attachment that prevented him from calmly letting go, from entering the Demon Realm without hesitation and seeking his satisfaction through slaughter. But it was precisely this attachment, from a past connected to a fictional world, that made this seemingly emotionally detached person willing to plan for Earth's future 300 years ago.
Thus, Taro respected Bam, much like he respected the warriors from Dragon Ball. Though his power wasn't as great as Taro's, Taro didn't feel that he surpassed him in terms of spiritual realm.
\---
"It's really... floating..." Bam, fully immersed in the mysteries within his own body, gradually felt his feet lift off the ground. Without the aid of any external force, his body began to hover in midair.
Taro sat under a tree, glancing at Bam, who was floating higher and higher in the air. He took a sip from his wine jug.
"Didn't expect I'd become a drunkard..." he muttered softly to himself, wiping the corner of his mouth. Was it the feeling of melancholy brought by the wine or the mood while drinking that he couldn't let go of?
Shaking his head with a wry smile, Taro took another drink, stood up, and said, "Let's go, we need to keep moving."
"Master, where are we going?" Bam descended from the air, the Phoenix swirling above his head, seemingly mocking him for flying so slowly.
Bam landed and walked over to Taro, taking the bag from him. The bag was uncomfortable, obviously containing the wooden box. Bam knew that the box held the Seven Dragon Balls that had revived everyone. What puzzled him was that the Seven Dragon Balls had turned into white stones.
"We're going to wherever you want," Taro said casually.
Meaning... he was taking him to the Demon Realm?
A smile appeared on Bam's face as he tightened the straps of the bag, catching up to Taro. He glanced again at the Phoenix flying in the lead above them. The bird was joyfully singing, which made him feel somewhat envious.
Suddenly, the Phoenix shook and fell to the ground.
Bam was startled, realizing that Taro had struck out a palm toward the sky, pulling the Phoenix down from the air. He heard Taro give a light tap on the bird's head and say, "Why be so flashy?"
Taro knew that the Phoenix's image was already associated with him by many people. While others might not understand, he certainly did. The little creature had a tendency to show off and be ostentatious. Annoyed by its flashy behavior, he chanted a spell, casting a transformation spell on the bird.
The Phoenix let out a disgruntled chirp, and in Bam's surprised gaze—he had been surprised by a lot since meeting Taro—the Phoenix's large form shrank quickly, eventually becoming a small, fire-red bird, about the size of a sparrow.
"Chirp..." With its form reduced, even its call lacked its former grandeur. The Phoenix, feeling wronged, spread its tiny wings in sorrow. It clearly wasn't in the mood to fly anymore. It hopped a few times and landed on Taro's shoulder.
"Stay still," Taro said, poking the little creature on his shoulder. He turned around to see Bam still standing frozen in place. "Stop dawdling, keep moving."
With that, Taro walked ahead, moving through the forest as if strolling leisurely.
Bam quickly caught up, the burden of the bag lightened by Taro's presence, allowing him to walk with ease.
---
More than four months later, Taro and Bam arrived at a place that Taro had been to before but had never truly "seen."