WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎🔥 30→2ch | 60→5ch | 100→8ch | 200→15ch | 400→25ch⏰ Resets Monday!
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The white-haired girl stepped barefoot onto the sand.
Turquoise water stretched endlessly before her, merging with the sky—a seamless mirror of blue. Sunlight drenched the beach. Soft grains crumbled beneath her feet. Palm trees swayed overhead, their shadows dancing across the shore.
Colorful fish darted through the shallows. Coral reefs glimmered beneath the surface. The whole island hummed with life.
Waves lapped at her ankles. Cool. Refreshing.
She threw her arms wide. "Finally! I'm alive again!"
The black-haired young man beside her stayed tense. "Are you sure this is safe?"
"Relax." She grinned. "We Androids have a special link—Gero's modifications. I can sense Seventeen and Eighteen's positions. They're far away. We're fine."
"Can they sense you?"
"Technically, yes. But I'm too weak for them to care about." She tapped her temple. "Plus, I switched to stealth mode. They won't pick me up."
Somewhere else on Earth—
Seventeen stood atop a pile of rubble, laughing.
"Run! Run! Haha! This is too good!"
Eighteen walked up beside him. "That signal disappeared. Probably realized we'd notice."
"Disappeared?" Seventeen shrugged. "Makes sense. Scared of us. But who cares? Twelve's an old model. A relic. An ant."
"True." Eighteen nodded. "One finger. That's all it'd take."
She joined him in the hunt.
Back on the island, the silver-haired girl—Twelve—smiled to herself.
Just as I thought. They don't care.
Gohan seemed to reach the same conclusion. "You're right. They won't bother with you."
"Exactly! So stop being so paranoid." She gestured at the beach. "This place is a paradise. You need to relax. Stop pushing yourself so hard."
Gohan shook his head. "I can't. Right now, innocent people are dying. I can't afford to relax."
Every moment he spent here, those two demons were out there. Killing. Destroying.
"So because people are dying, you stay wound up 24/7?" Twelve tilted her head. "Don't you think that's counterproductive? You're sabotaging your own training."
"Sabotaging?"
She nodded. "Master Roshi said it himself: Training means eating well, sleeping well, studying well, exercising well, and working well. That's the core of the Turtle School, isn't it? Or did you forget?"
Gohan blinked. Surprise flickered across his face. "You know what Master Roshi said? Did Gero collect that data?"
"Uh... yeah. Exactly. Gero's files." Her eyes darted away. Can't exactly tell him I'm a transmigrator.
She sighed internally.
Eighteen years. Eighteen years since she'd arrived in this world. And what did she have to show for it?
Other transmigrators would've been unstoppable by now. Punching Whis. Kicking Beerus. At the very least, they'd be stomping Majin Buu or Cell.
Her? She couldn't even beat kid Trunks.
When she'd first transmigrated, she hadn't remembered her past life at all. The memories came back slowly—triggered by Gero's tests. By the time she realized what she was, it was too late. Gero sealed her away.
Eighteen years. Wasted.
Now she was awake. And her 900,000 Power Level? Pathetic.
She still couldn't remember everything from her past life. Her name. Her home. Her gender. But she remembered Dragon Ball. The manga. Super. GT. Enough to know what was coming.
Enough to know she was in Future Trunks's timeline.
The question was: which version? The one where Trunks gets killed by Cell? Or the one where Zeno erases everything?
Either way—doomed.
But she had a plan. A way out.
And it started with the man standing in front of her.
Twelve stepped closer. "Gohan. Since you became a Super Saiyan, your power hasn't grown much, has it?"
Gohan stiffened. "How do you know that?"
"You didn't tell me. But I can tell." She crossed her arms. "You've been training for years. But your growth is stagnant. Nothing like your dad's."
Gohan's fists clenched. Then relaxed. "I've tried everything. Nothing works. I don't have his talent—"
Twelve laughed.
"Are you kidding me? Gohan, according to Gero's data, you're the most talented Saiyan alive. Your power's unstable, sure. But your potential? Off the charts. Or did you forget how you headbutted Raditz into oblivion when you were four?"
"But I'm not like my dad. If he were still alive, he'd know what to do—"
"Yeah, if Goku were alive, Earth wouldn't be in this mess. But here's the thing, Gohan." Her voice hardened. "If Earth has to rely on Goku every single time, then the moment he's gone, Earth's finished. The future belongs to the people who are still alive. Got it?"
Gohan's fists trembled. "I know. But I can't—"
"You can. You're just forgetting the Turtle School's core principle."
"What?"
She poked his chest. "You're too tense. You've been wound up for years. And that's killing your growth."
Gohan frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"S-Cells."
"S-Cells?"
"Saiyan cells. The more you have, the stronger you get. And S-Cells multiply when you're calm. When you're at peace. That's why Goten and Trunks—in the main timeline—became Super Saiyans so easily. They inherited peaceful DNA from their fathers."
She pointed at him. "But you? You've been stressed for years. Your S-Cells are stagnant. You're sabotaging yourself."
Gohan stared at her.
"The Turtle School's philosophy isn't just about training hard. It's about balance. Rest. Recovery. Peace of mind. That's what unlocks true power. That's what leads to Ultra Instinct."
"Ultra Instinct?"
"Master Roshi's ultimate technique. The body moves without thinking. No hesitation. No fear. Just pure instinct." She grinned. "And it starts with learning to relax."
Gohan opened his mouth to protest—
SPLASH.
Water hit his face.
Twelve giggled. "Come on! Loosen up! Play with me!"
She'd been sealed for eighteen years. She deserved some fun.
And Gohan needed to unwind.
He blinked. Water dripped from his hair. His heart pounded—faster than it should.
The girl in front of him. Silver hair. Red eyes. Smiling.
She was... beautiful.
SPLASH.
Another wave of water snapped him out of it.
"Stop spacing out! Let's go!"
He meant to refuse. He really did.
But the words wouldn't come.
Instead, he found himself nodding.
An hour later—
Bulma and Trunks emerged from the lab, data drives in hand.
They froze.
Gohan was in the water. Laughing. Actually laughing. Splashing around with the silver-haired girl like a carefree teenager.
Bulma's eyes widened.
She hadn't seen Gohan smile—really smile—since Goku died.
For years, all she'd seen was grief. Anger. Grim determination.
But now? He looked like the boy she used to know.
Trunks stared. "Gohan...?"
Gohan snapped out of it. Guilt flashed across his face. "Trunks, I—"
"It's okay." Trunks smiled. "You look... happy. I didn't think you knew how to do that anymore."
Bulma nodded. "He's right, Gohan. You needed this."
She turned to the silver-haired girl. Bowed slightly. "Thank you, Twelve. Gohan's been carrying the weight of the world for too long. It's good to see him like this."
The girl waved her off. "Don't mention it. And stop calling me Twelve. That's Gero's designation. I hate it."
"Then what should we call you?"
She thought for a moment. "Call me Perilla."
"Perilla. Got it."
Perilla tapped her chin. "By the way, I've been wondering—why not use the Dragon Balls to revive everyone?"
"Piccolo's dead," Gohan said quietly. "The Dragon Balls are gone."
"Not Earth's Dragon Balls. Namek's." Perilla raised a finger. "The Namekian Dragon Balls have no revival limit. Revive Piccolo, and Earth's Dragon Balls come back. Problem solved."
Bulma's face fell. "I thought of that. But I don't know where New Namek is. The universe is too big. It's like finding a needle in a haystack."
"So ask King Kai."
Gohan blinked. "Only my dad could contact King Kai."
"Wrong." Perilla shook her head. "Kami sent your dad to King Kai in the first place. And when Kami dies, a new Kami takes his place. So... make a new Kami."
Silence.
Then Gohan's eyes widened.
Bulma gasped.
"Of course!" Bulma slapped her forehead. "Why didn't we think of that?!"
Gohan stared at Perilla. "You're a genius."
Perilla grinned. "I know."
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