The successful creation of the ki generator filled me with a satisfaction I hadn't felt in months.
All the frustration, the sleepless nights, the dozens of failed prototypes — gone.
Vanished the moment I saw Goku training with the very first robot powered by it.
Watching him adapt to its strength so quickly made every setback worth it.
I pushed forward immediately, refining the design and mass-producing a weaker model that could safely be sold worldwide. These versions only had a power level of about one hundred fifty, but the real selling point was their efficiency. Because the battery only needed to activate the generator, the robot could run almost entirely off ki. As long as the generator kept functioning, the machine could operate for far longer than any normal battery-powered robot.
Time moved quickly after that.
Days blurred together — training Goku in the mornings, engineering in the afternoons, adjusting robots and recalibrating the generator at night.
Before I even realized it, Goku's power level had reached two hundred fifty.
More than enough to dominate the next World Martial Arts Tournament.
He'd have to hold back if he wanted to have fun.
One morning during his Oozaru training, as he crushed one of my older robots with a single swipe of his massive tail, he cheerfully shouted down to me:
"Sis! I met a really kind cyborg the other day — Eighter! And there was this army who wanted the Dragon Balls, so I beat 'em up!"
I folded my arms. "That would be the Red Ribbon Army. And I'm glad you're safe."
He laughed, the deep rumble of his giant form echoing.
"Yeah! Eighter was real nice. He doesn't like fighting much, though."
Every morning, I created a fake moon with my ki to help him train. At first, the goal had been preventing him from losing control. But now that he could handle the transformation, I focused on something more important — teaching him to fight efficiently in his Oozaru form.
As we took a break, I explained something to him again, making sure the lesson stuck:
"Goku, remember what I said. There are two types of fights: the fight you fight to win, and the fight you fight to improve. A real martial artist needs to understand the difference."
He nodded eagerly. "Right! If I just wanna win, I can go all-out and be done. But if I wanna get better, I should fight at my opponent's level! Just like you're doing with me now!"
I smiled at him — or as close to a smile as someone staring up at a giant ape could manage.
After we finished training that day and he returned to normal, he threw his arms around me in a sudden hug.
"You're the best sister ever!"
I patted his head.
"Well, I am your only sister."
He blinked. "Oh… yeah! But that still makes you the best!"
I didn't correct him.
I just accepted the hug.
He deserved that.
And after this tournament, I promised him I'd build a stronger training robot — something that could push him even further.
---
The Tournament Begins
The tournament grounds were packed, buzzing with excitement.
I sat near the ring with Bulma beside me, while Launch, Oolong, and Puar found seats a few rows back. The crowd talk was loud, excited — but my attention was on the competitors.
This year had three notable newcomers.
Tien Shinhan.
Chiaotzu.
And Master Shen — although the old man wasn't participating himself, his disciples radiated a cold, sharp hostility toward Master Roshi.
Tien, especially, kept glaring at Goku like he had some kind of personal vendetta.
I whispered to Bulma, "Did they meet before?"
She shrugged. "Not that I know of. Maybe they don't like Goku's face."
From the corner of my eye, I spotted "Jackie Chun," which was obviously Master Roshi in disguise again. Clearly, he still wanted to test the new generation.
Krillin and Yamcha looked stronger than before.
But neither had reached Goku's level.
And Goku… well, he was in a league of his own now.
He stood near the registration table with that easy grin — confident, calm. He absolutely intended to hold back. I could tell. To him, this wasn't about proving power. It was about experiencing technique, learning new skills, and enjoying every moment.
If he hadn't learned how to fly from me, Chiaotzu's levitation might've posed a problem.
Now?
Not even a little.
I leaned over to Bulma. "If Master Roshi really wants to win this time, he'll have to go all out."
Bulma giggled. "Good luck to him. Your brother's on another level."
I nodded.
And as the announcer's voice boomed through the arena, I felt something warm in my chest.
Pride.
Excitement.
And the quiet, certain knowledge…
Goku was ready.