He furrowed his brows as if struggling, letting tiny beads of sweat "form" on his forehead.
Minutes passed.
Master Roshi stood silently to the side, watching without rushing him.
After about an hour, Yamcha judged the timing to be right. He began to "guide" the Ki inside him, allowing it to faintly resonate with Master Roshi's Ki.
"Hm?" Master Roshi let out a soft sound of surprise.
He clearly sensed it—an extremely faint, but undeniably real, Ki within Yamcha's body had been stirred awake.
"This feeling!" Yamcha "exclaimed" in delight. "I feel it, Master! There's… there's a warm energy inside my body!"
"Don't lose focus! Continue!" Master Roshi said sternly. "Try to control it! Make it flow through your body according to your will!"
"Yes!"
Yamcha immediately "focused," acting the part perfectly.
He made the Ki flow appear clumsy at first—wild, unstable, almost painful—causing him to "grimace" as if it were out of control.
Then, little by little, he gradually "managed" to direct it, guiding the warm current along a meridian with a strained, struggling expression.
Finally, after an entire morning of "struggling," he completed one full circulation of Ki through his whole body.
As soon as he finished, he "collapsed" out of meditation, opening his eyes with an exhausted expression, his body drenched in sweat.
"Master… I… I did it…"
Master Roshi looked at him, nodded, and a faint—almost unnoticeable—trace of approval flashed in his eyes.
"Hm. Not bad. Much faster than I expected."
"It seems your body still remembers the feeling. That's enough for today. Tomorrow, we'll learn to release it."
Yamcha chuckled inwardly.
Fast? This was only the warm-up.
Over the next few days, Yamcha put on the performance of a lifetime—the return of a martial arts prodigy.
The next day, he "struggled with all his might" to condense a tiny speck of light the size of a rice grain.
Master Roshi's evaluation: Good comprehension.
The third day, he was able to condense a Ki ball the size of an egg and barely hurl it, leaving a shallow dent in the wall.
Master Roshi's evaluation: Rapid progress.
By the fifth day, he could skillfully fire Ki Blasts and had even "re-mastered" Bukujutsu—though he still flew slightly unsteadily.
Master Roshi no longer spoke. He simply stroked his long white beard, and behind his sunglasses, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
Popo watched silently from afar every day, his expression unchanged.
Meanwhile, Yamcha could clearly feel the power within his body recovering at a terrifying speed—and even… surpassing what he once had.
Before being killed by the Saibamen, his combat power had been around 1480.
Even after later training, it hadn't increased much by the time the Androids appeared.
As for defeating the Ginyu Force on King Kai's planet—he had no memory of that storyline.
In Future Trunks' timeline, perhaps after Yamcha died to the Saibamen, he had never met King Kai at all.
But now, in just one week, he felt his combat power had already broken past 3000—
and it was still rising.
This wasn't "recovery" anymore.
This was a qualitative leap.
He attributed it to the "miracle" of dying and resurrecting, as well as the vastly improved control an adult mind had over a younger body.
That day, after finishing his training, Yamcha stood at the edge of the Lookout, feeling the surging energy inside him.
He raised his hand, index and middle fingers together, aiming at a distant sea of clouds.
"Ki Blast!"
A highly condensed ball of energy shot from his fingertips, drawing a strange arc through the air. After circling outward, it curved back toward his target and struck the cloud head-on, exploding it into drifting mist.
The entire sequence had been smooth and precise.
"Hoo…" Yamcha exhaled, satisfaction spreading across his face.
A combat power of a few thousand might be worthless in the later stages of dragon ball, but right now, he was already stronger than any Earth warrior of that era.
"Your recovery speed is truly astonishing, Yamcha."
Master Roshi's voice came from behind him.
Yamcha turned to see the old master leaning on his wooden staff, quietly observing him.
"It's all thanks to your guidance, Master," Yamcha said, immediately offering praise.
"Don't flatter me." Master Roshi snorted. "This isn't recovery—you're shooting up like a rocket."
"It seems your body really changed when you came back from the dead."
Yamcha's heart tightened. Good. The timing was right.
He let the smile fade from his face, turning solemn as he looked down at the world beneath the Lookout.
"But, Master…" His voice dropped, steady and heavy, "this level of power is still nowhere near enough."
"I have sensed the Androids down there. Their aura… no, they don't have Ki, but the feeling they give off is like two bottomless black holes."
"A combat power of a few thousand… is no different from an ant."
Yamcha turned toward Master Roshi, eyes burning with determination.
"Master, this level of strength is far from enough!"
Master Roshi looked at the flames burning in Yamcha's eyes and fell silent.
Of course he knew that a battle power of a few thousand was nowhere near enough.
Forget a few thousand— even tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands… what would that change?
When Vegeta first achieved Super Saiyan, his battle power far exceeded one hundred million. Yet what was the result?
He still had his arm casually broken by Android 18.
"I know it's not enough," Master Roshi said with a weary sigh, helplessness in his voice. "But we are already the strongest warriors left on Earth, Yamcha."
"We humans have reached our limit. Beyond that is the domain of the gods."
"No!" Yamcha rejected the idea immediately. "Limits exist to be broken!"
"Master, do you still remember Goku? He broke through his limits again and again—starting as a child with a battle power barely over ten, yet eventually fighting the galactic tyrant Frieza."
"What did he rely on? Saiyan near-death power boosts. Kaio-ken. The Spirit Bomb. Super Saiyan!"
Yamcha's voice grew more heated. "He always had shortcuts! We Earthlings may not have Saiyan blood, but that just means we need a shortcut of our own!"
"A shortcut?" Master Roshi frowned. "What are you trying to say?"