Time flowed like sand through fingers. Months slipped by.
One sunny afternoon, Bulma lounged in a wicker chair in the garden, sipping hot tea in rare peace.
Then the heavy alloy door of the gravity room slid open with a soft scrape.
She turned, surprised, and saw Vittli step out—wearing an unusual mix of irritation and helpless frustration.
He was not steaming with heat or drenched in sweat like usual, nor diving back into training. He walked straight to her.
"Well, well—what a rare sight, Vittli!" Bulma set down her cup, bright blue eyes full of curiosity. "You didn't train until dinner time today? Did the sun rise in the west? Or did you finally break the gravity room?"
She joked, but a thread of worry tugged at her.
Vittli flopped into the seat beside her, looking deflated. Without asking, he lifted her tea and chugged several gulps.
Only then did he exhale hard, brows knotted. "Don't even start. I think I hit a bottleneck."
"A bottleneck?!"
Bulma straightened instantly, smile vanishing.
She knew Vittli better than anyone. Getting stronger was his greatest obsession and joy. Stalling out was a huge deal.
"What's going on? Is the gravity room hitting its limit? Or… is it your body?" she pressed, already running parameters and biology in her head.
Vittli shook his head, propping his chin on one hand as he thought.
"Dunno… let me think…"
In his mind, fragments of his old-life Dragon Ball knowledge flashed: training with King Kai? The Hyperbolic Time Chamber? Breaking through near death? Potential unlock by the Namekian Elder…
"Go find King Kai…?" he muttered, then rejected it. "Too much hassle, and Kaio-ken won't do much for me… Or ask Kami to borrow the Time Chamber?"
The idea lit his eyes for a second, then dimmed. "No… that's a trump card for emergencies. Can't waste it just to break a bottleneck."
Bulma stayed quiet, letting him think. She watched him with steady warmth.
She trusted him. No matter what he chose, she'd support him with tech, resources, and unconditional faith.
Time passed in silence.
Then Vittli suddenly stood, decision sharpening in his gaze.
"I thought of something. I'm heading out for a bit. I might not be back for dinner. Don't wait."
Bulma nodded. "Okay. Be careful."
Without another word, Vittli shot upward like a streak of light, racing toward the towering Korin Tower in the far east.
He landed on the summit platform and waved casually at Korin, the white cat sage gripping his staff with wary resignation.
"Yo, Korin. Same as always—fish in the capsule. You got senzu ready?"
Korin looked at the capsule, then at Vittli's "quick, no haggling" face, sighed, and counted out ten plump green senzu beans.
Both felt they'd gotten a fair deal and didn't bother bargaining.
Vittli pocketed the beans and leapt through the tower's barrier toward Kami's Lookout high above the clouds.
On the spotless white plaza, Kami and Mr. Popo stood like timeless statues.
After months of Vittli dropping by so often, Kami's reaction had shifted from panic to… habitual vigilance.
When Vittli landed lightly, Kami's old green face stayed expressionless. He asked, as always:
"Why did you come to Earth? What is your purpose?"
He'd held that question in for a long time. Vittli seemed harmless, but his power was a permanent weight on Kami's heart.
Vittli rolled his eyes theatrically.
"My purpose? What, am I here to invade Earth because it's weak? Because its tech is behind Capsule Corp except for capsules? Because even your wish-granting Dragon Balls make you haggle like merchants?" He spread his hands. "Please, give me a reason to invade."
He pointed around the Lookout. "Or is it because this place is quiet and good for spacing out?"
Kami was momentarily speechless.
Thinking about it, Earth really didn't have much worth coveting besides the Dragon Balls—and Vittli had never even pursued them actively.
As for "beauty"… Kami glanced at Vittli's handsome but currently annoyed face, and silently shoved that idea away.
He relaxed a fraction, then asked in a calmer tone:
"Then why are you here today?"
Vittli grinned. "Simple. I need a place that's ridiculously tough and can take a beating. I want to fully unleash my ki and run an experiment. Down on the surface, if I lose control I might lift a tectonic plate—and that'd be bad for people and flowers."
Kami nodded and gestured at the floor with a trace of pride.
"The Lookout is made of divine power and Earth's most durable materials. It can withstand your strength. If you want to reveal your power, do it here."
Vittli's mouth tugged into a teasing curve. "Oh? You sure? If I break something, I'm not paying, okay?"
Kami nodded flatly. "No matter."
He signaled Popo to step back, then watched Vittli intently.
Vittli moved to the center of the plaza and closed his eyes.
The world went still. Only the high-altitude wind howled softly.
He clenched his fists at his waist, sinking his will into his body, feeling the vast ki within, guiding that molten, oceanic power through flesh and bone.
By his estimate, his battle power had already surpassed five million.
In theory, that was enough to reach Super Saiyan. But transformation wasn't just a numbers game—it was a genetic lock that needed a "key," usually intense emotion.
He'd never transformed before. He could only grope forward by memory and instinct.
First he tried a method from Dragon Ball Super—focusing power to a "point" in the back, imagining it as a switch.
"Focus… gather… imagine the switch… open it…"
He directed the violent energy toward the space between his shoulder blades. Heat and swelling built there. The power felt ready to erupt—
But it was still short, as if a thin yet stubborn film blocked him. No matter how he pushed, he couldn't break through that final barrier.
Like water at 99°C, refusing to boil.
"Damn it!"
After a long, useless struggle, Vittli cursed inwardly, frustration surging.
"In all those novels, transmigrators get systems, sign in, power up, rage once and go Super Saiyan… and me? No system, and even Super Saiyan 1 feels like I'm constipated. I've gotta grind every inch by myself!"
He opened his eyes, sighing bitterly.
"Alright. Then we do it the old way—rage."
He shut his eyes again and dug desperately through memories for something to ignite fury.
Being bullied in the orphanage and having candy stolen? He'd cried back then and long since forgotten it. Now it just felt funny.
Being mocked in school as an orphan, saddled with a nasty nickname? He'd beaten that kid half to death. The anger was gone—only smugness remained.
Getting dumped by his first girlfriend? He'd moped for two days, then met a prettier senior in the library. No anger there either.
Being assigned as Vegeta's guard on Planet Vegeta? He'd basically bullied Vegeta himself, then ditched him to come to Earth. How could he rage about that?
"Seriously—what the hell!!"
The more he searched, the more helpless he felt. That helplessness curdled into anger—not at the past, but at now.
"Why's it so easy for everyone else to get strong?! Sign-in systems, hot springs, free power-ups! Why do I have to train like a dog?! And even transforming is this hard! Is this damn transformation system targeting me?! Huh?! LOOK AT ME, YOU BASTARD!!"
That suffocating, humiliating fury—rage at being unable to rage, rage at being stuck—
It splashed into his soul like a spark in oil.
BOOOOOOM!!!
Without warning, an unimaginable golden blaze erupted from Vittli's body like a dormant volcano exploding after eons. Blinding gold swallowed him, forming a pillar of light that speared into the sky.
A storm of golden shockwaves expanded outward in rings.
Kami and Popo, standing nearby, had no time to react. A crushing force slammed into them.
"Gah!"
Kami was flung like a leaf in a hurricane, smashing into the far wall with a heavy crash and sliding down, staff flying away.
Popo was swept up and spun through the air, landing hard on the floor.
The sacred Lookout groaned under the pressure. The white floor trembled, dust trickled from the ceiling; ornaments shook violently.
It was like a divine punishment.
"Aaaarghhhhh!!!"
Vittli's howl of fury and release tore through the light.
His black hair rose, every strand yanked upward by invisible force, rapidly bleaching into blazing gold.
His eyes snapped open—pupils vanishing into whiteness for a heartbeat—veins bulging on his forehead. His muscles swelled to the brink, bones crackling like thunder.
"DAMN IT!! HAAAHHHHH!!!"
The transformation completed.
The gold light tightened into a fierce aura, flaring like flame around him. His hair stood up in a burning golden crown. His eyes stabilized into a cold, vivid green, locked into a face now sharper, wilder, more savage with power.
A crushing, storm-like pressure flooded the entire Lookout.
Super Saiyan—Vittli.
He hovered half a foot off the ground, staring at his golden-wrapped hands in delight, feeling the oceanic power inside him—tens of times stronger than before.
The bottleneck that had tormented him… was paper thin now.
Elation surged through him.
Then a ridiculous thought followed:
He'd turned Super Saiyan because he was furious about not being able to turn Super Saiyan.
A perfect closed loop.
The dumbest, most "Saiyan" logic possible.
Vittli floated there, golden hair rippling in the aura, eyes sliding over the wrecked plaza, then settling on Kami—now crawling up, gray with dust, face frozen in pure shock.
Vittli's mouth twitched into a complex, baffled smile.
…So this works too?