After mastering the basic use of Ki, Yamcha's journey became noticeably smoother.
His Ki Blasts were still weak, and Bukujutsu was far beyond his reach for now.
But he could already wrap his whole body in a faint aura, reducing the noise he made while moving, and his senses had become far sharper than before.
This alone gave him a bit more security while crossing the wilderness.
One day, as he rode through a hilly region, his motorcycle suddenly made a harsh clunking sound and slowly sputtered to a stop.
"Broken? Oh, c'mon.."
Yamcha frowned and jumped off to check it.
He wasn't a mechanic, and after fiddling with it for a long time, he still couldn't figure out what was wrong.
"Damn it, breaking down at a time like this."
He looked at the map. There were no towns or shops nearby, and the next ruined city that might have supplies was still very far away.
He had no choice but to find a place to camp for the night, then search for transportation on foot.
He slung on his backpack, looked around, and noticed a massive crater-like area not far away.
At the edge of the crater, something caught his attention—exposed, clearly man-made metal structures.
"What is that?"
Yamcha walked over, curiosity rising.
When he reached the edge of the massive crater and looked down, he froze completely.
At the center of the crater lay the shattered remains of a gigantic hemispherical building, with two huge letters still visible— "CC."
Capsule Corporation.
This place… had once been Bulma's home, and the world's greatest technological hub.
Now, only a bottomless crater remained.
Yamcha's emotions grew complicated.
According to the memories of this body, this had been one of his "homes," a place filled with many happy moments.
He stared silently at the crater, standing there for a long time.
"Maybe… there might be something useful down there?"
The thought appeared suddenly.
Capsule Corporation was famous for its advanced technology. Many of its labs and storage facilities were built deep underground, so it was possible some areas had survived the blast.
If he could find a flying vehicle or even a gravity chamber, it would be a massive stroke of luck.
The thought made his heart race.
He decided to go down and take a look.
The inner wall of the giant crater was steep, but for the current Yamcha, it posed little difficulty.
Using both hands and feet, he quickly descended to the bottom.
The crater floor was covered in twisted metal and scorched debris.
He picked his way through the ruins carefully, searching for any possible entrance.
"Found it!"
Beneath a large metal plate, he spotted a blasted-open gap leading into deeper darkness below.
Judging by the structure around it, this must have been an emergency passage.
Without hesitation, he crawled inside.
The passage interior was chaotic, but the main structure was still somewhat intact.
He followed it downward for nearly ten minutes—then suddenly, the space opened up.
He had entered a massive underground area.
It appeared to be a large research laboratory, filled with damaged precision instruments and shattered glass containers.
Emergency lights flickered weakly, casting dim, eerie shadows across the entire space.
"There really is a surviving area."
Yamcha's heart lifted, and he immediately began searching.
He hoped to find high-energy compressed food or a Hoi-Poi Capsule.
Unfortunately, most of the equipment was heavily damaged, and many storage cabinets had already been forced open—completely emptied.
It seemed someone had "visited" before him, likely early survivors.
He felt a bit disappointed, but he didn't give up and continued deeper into the lab.
In one corner, he spotted a large computer terminal that looked relatively intact.
The screen was black, but the indicator light on the main unit was faintly blinking.
"It still has power?"
Yamcha walked over and pressed the power button.
After a few seconds, the terminal screen lit up, displaying a simple operating interface.
He tried operating it, but most of the data was corrupted and unreadable.
Just as he was about to give up, he noticed a separately encrypted file in the root directory.
The filename was: "Project: Time Machine. Final Log – Trunks."
Yamcha's heart suddenly pounded.
It was a message left by Trunks!
He immediately clicked the file. An encryption program popped up, requesting a password.
"What could the password be?"
Yamcha frowned. He tried entering a few names—"Bulma," "Vegeta"—but all resulted in errors.
He forced himself to calm down and think.
This was Trunks's final log, likely recorded before he went to the past.
So the password must hold special meaning to him.
It was his goal—his only hope.
A sudden thought flashed through Yamcha's mind, and he entered a single word.
"Hope."
The screen displayed: Password Correct.
The file opened, and an audio clip began to play. A familiar yet slightly immature young voice came from the speakers.
"Mom… if you can hear this message, it means I've already left."
It was Trunks's voice.
"I don't know if this trip will succeed. I don't even know if I'll come back alive."
"But I have to go. This is our… this is the world's last hope."
"Gohan died… he protected me… I… I'm so useless. If only I could've been a little stronger…"
His voice was filled with suppressed pain and guilt.
"Mom, the time machine you built is the greatest invention of this era."
"I'll take the heart medicine to warn Goku."
"I will change the past… create a peaceful future without Android 17 and Android 18."
"Please… take care of yourself. Wait for me to come back."
"I will definitely come back."
The audio ended.
Silence settled over the laboratory once more.
Yamcha stood frozen for a long time.
He knew what happened afterward. Trunks had succeeded—he went to the past, saved Goku, and changed the main timeline's history.
But this future remained unchanged.
When Trunks returned after training, full of hope that he had saved his world, he still found nothing but this devastated wasteland.
"What a… remarkable guy."
Yamcha murmured, genuine respect filling his heart for the purple-haired youth.
Just then, a faint, nearly imperceptible whooshing sound came from far above.
Yamcha's hair stood on end instantly.
That sound… was the sound of high-speed flight!
Without thinking, he dove behind a large piece of equipment, suppressing his aura completely, nearly stopping his breathing.
He peeked through a narrow gap, staring toward the giant crater above.
Two figures—one male, one female—streaked across the sky like meteors and hovered directly over the crater.
Golden short hair, a blue denim jacket, and a face that remained stunning no matter how many times he saw it—Android 18.
And beside her, the cold-faced, black-haired youth with a red scarf—Android 17.