Yamcha took a deep breath.
"Master, Mr. Popo," Yamcha turned to Popo, who had appeared silently at some point, "I beg you—let me use the Hyperbolic Time Chamber!"
"The Hyperbolic Time Chamber?"
Master Roshi's expression changed the moment he heard the name.
Even Popo's eternally calm face showed a faint ripple.
"How do you know about that place?" Master Roshi's tone became stern. "The existence of that room is the highest-level secret of the Lookout! Only Kami and a very small number of people know about it! You…"
He caught himself, remembering Yamcha's supposed fragmented memories.
Yamcha quickly followed up, "I… I don't know. The name just suddenly came to mind."
"It feels like… somewhere in my broken memories, there's an image of a white room… and Goku… having trained inside it…"
He conveniently pushed the blame onto Goku. No one alive could refute it.
Master Roshi glanced at him suspiciously, then looked toward Popo.
Popo spoke slowly, "Goku did indeed use the Hyperbolic Time Chamber."
That confirmed it.
Master Roshi's expression softened, though his tone remained solemn. "Even if you know of it, that room… is not something just anyone can enter."
"The environment inside is extremely harsh—high gravity, thin air, extreme temperature shifts. And even more terrifying is the endless sense of isolation."
"Many who enter aren't defeated by the environment, but by their own inner demons."
"I'm not afraid!" Yamcha's gaze was unwavering. "Compared to being hunted like a rat out there, I can endure anything!"
"What I lack most right now is time!"
"One day inside is one year outside! Give me one year, and I'll make Earth-shattering progress!"
"Nonsense!" Master Roshi snapped. "Your current strength rose too quickly through recovery. Your foundation is unstable!"
"Entering that place recklessly for extreme training will only make you lose control—or even explode!"
"That's still better than doing nothing!" Yamcha retorted without backing down.
His eyes reddened, and he nearly roared, "Master! What other choice do we have? Hide here while Trunks fights alone?"
"Watch the world crumble bit by bit until those two monsters get bored and wipe out the Lookout with a single Ki blast?"
"I don't want to die like that again! I don't want to feel that helpless despair ever again!"
His voice echoed across the empty Lookout—filled with grief, fury, and unyielding resolve.
Master Roshi was shaken speechless, his mouth opening slightly but unable to respond.
Yes. Was there any other choice?
No—there wasn't.
Hiding here truly was nothing more than waiting for death.
Popo, who had been listening quietly all along, finally stepped forward.
"The Hyperbolic Time Chamber can only be entered twice in a lifetime," Popo said calmly. "And the total time cannot exceed forty-eight hours—two years inside. Are you certain you want to use this precious opportunity?"
"I'm certain!" Yamcha answered without a moment's pause.
"Even if you come out and still cannot defeat the Androids, will you have no regrets?" Popo asked.
"No regrets!" Yamcha replied firmly. "At least I'll have tried! At least I'll have fought!"
Popo stared into his eyes for a very long time.
So long that Yamcha began to think the answer would be no.
"…Very well." Popo finally nodded. "I understand. Master Roshi—what do you decide?"
All eyes turned to Master Roshi.
Master Roshi looked at Yamcha's young, stubborn face and, for a moment, seemed to see his own reflection from decades ago—the man who once challenged King Piccolo without hesitation.
He let out a long, weary sigh, as though he had suddenly aged another ten years.
"Ah… fine, fine." He waved his hand dismissively and turned away. "I'm too old to meddle in you youngsters' decisions. Since you've made up your mind, then go."
"But remember this." Master Roshi stopped, still facing away. "If you die in there, no one will be able to retrieve your body."
"Thank you! Master!"
Yamcha was ecstatic—this was approval.
He turned immediately to Popo, eyes full of burning determination.
Popo gestured for him to follow.
"Come."
He led Yamcha down a long corridor until they arrived before a majestic palace.
The massive doors were tightly shut, bearing the symbol of a clock.
This was the entrance to hope—and also the entrance to hell.
Popo raised his hand and pressed it against the gate. The massive doors slowly parted, revealing a long, glowing passage bathed in golden light.
"Go in," Popo said calmly. "When you feel your time is up, or when you can no longer endure it, simply think 'come out,' and the door will appear again."
"Remember—you only have one chance."
Yamcha stood at the threshold, feeling the overwhelming pressure radiating from within.
He turned once, looking back at the Lookout… and at the endless blue sky.
Then, without a moment of hesitation, he stepped inside.
...
The moment Yamcha stepped into the golden passage, it felt as if he'd been thrown into a spinning washing machine.
The world twisted wildly, colors swirling like a kaleidoscope.
This dizzying sensation lasted only a few seconds before his feet finally touched solid ground.
What he saw made him suck in a breath.
An infinite expanse of pure white.
No sky, no ground, no horizon—everything was white, stretching endlessly in all directions, as if the world itself had been wiped clean.
Boom!
A crushing force, like a massive mountain collapsing on him, suddenly pressed down from every direction.
Yamcha let out a strained grunt. His legs buckled, and he nearly fell to his knees.
"This is… ten times gravity?"
He clenched his teeth and poured all his ki into resisting the pressure.
Every cell in his body screamed in protest, and his bones made faint creaking sounds.
And that wasn't even the worst part....