I decided to take an indefinite leave from my job as a gardener. If I'm serious about getting stronger without anyone's help, then I need to commit fully — working would just slow me down, and I don't have time to waste. Bulma offered to keep paying me anyway. She said she could see how focused I was. That meant more to me than I expected. It feels nice to have someone cheering you on, you know.
The first step was obvious: build a training regimen. My goals were clear — get into peak physical condition and figure out how to learn martial arts on my own. The gym part? I could handle that. But the martial arts' the part I didn't have an answer for. Everyone who ever got anywhere had a teacher. Goku had Master Roshi. Tien had Shen. I don't have a mentor. No scrolls. No hidden techniques. Just me and a body that still has a long way to go.
So for now, I'm focusing on the one thing I can do — body conditioning. My plan is simple: hit every machine in the gym, train until failure, take three-minute breaks, drink water, repeat.
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And almost immediately, I realize how much harder this is than I expected. After a set on the chest press, I drop my arms, breathing heavy, sweat clinging to every inch of me. I've got a decent foundation — chest, biceps, legs — 50kg is manageable across most machines. But my shoulders and back are noticeably weaker. This body's not as balanced as I thought.
Still, the hardest part isn't even that. It's the method itself. Training to failure isn't like doing a fixed number of reps. There's no rhythm, no safety net. You just push and push until your muscles quit on you.
Two hours later, I'm dragging myself out of the gym. When I get home, I fall onto my bed, completely drained. My muscles ache. My arms feel like stone. Even lying down takes effort. And yet… I feel good. The soreness and fatigue aren't just side effects — they're signs that I'm moving forward. That I'm finally doing something real. I've taken the first step.
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What is martial arts, really? Is it a way to defend yourself? A path to power? A tool for fighting? Or a means to find peace? I don't know.
But what I do know is that I need it. I need to get stronger — strong enough to push my body to the absolute limit, just to unlock even the basics of ki. I need martial arts just to survive in a world like Dragon Ball's. Right now, I probably couldn't even beat Hercule in a fair fight. That's the level I'm at. And if I don't even understand what martial arts is… how can I begin to practice it?
The answer is: I can't. So for now, I've decided to throw everything I have into bettering my body — refining my strength, sharpening my endurance — and maybe pick up a bit of punching and kicking along the way. I'll keep it simple.
— In the Gym —
"Oi, I've been seein' this little guy in here every day now," says a bald, fair-skinned man with biceps nearly as big as his head.
"Dunno, man. Probably tryin' to impress a girl or somethin'." The reply comes from another bald man, shorter and rounder, with a thick moustache and arms folded like he owns the place.
"Huh? How don't you know? Weren't you a kid once?"
"So were you, dumbass!"
"Who're you callin' a dumbass, huh?"
"Excuse me."
---- 1st Person POV ----
Honestly, these two baldies have been annoying me since day one. Doesn't matter when I come — morning, evening, even middle of the night — they're always here.
"Are you using this machine?" I ask, keeping my voice steady. "If not, get off the seat, please."
Moustache guy snorts. "Oh, look at that — he's here. Maybe you can ask him yourself."
"Yeah, yeah." The dumbass turns toward me with a smirk. "Hey, you! What are you doin' at the gym, huh?"
"Exercising." I clench my fist. I really, really want to punch them both.
"Ohhh, look what we have here — a smartass!" he jeers. "I meant why are you really here? Why're you tryna get stro—"
CRACK
My fist connects with his jaw before he can finish. His head snaps sideways, legs wobble, and he stumbles back into the machine behind him.
Silence.
His buddy's eyes widen. Mine stay locked on the guy I just hit.
"You keep on blabbing don't you," I say, voice low and calm. "Go away and let me exercise in peace."