Morning sunlight blazed across the sky. As Piccolo felt its rays fall upon him, a faint warmth welled up inside.
He opened his eyes.
Though he disliked things that were too bright, the sunlight brought him comfort—that much was true.
This was due to his Namekian physiology. Like plants performing photosynthesis, he could survive solely on sunlight and fresh water.
That was also the reason he could live atop the mountain.
Piccolo stood for a while at the peak, watching the sunrise. From here, he could see the golden-red sun pierce the horizon and rise slowly from the sea—majestic and awe-inspiring.
After a brief silence, the young second-generation Piccolo walked to the edge of the cliff. He looked down. Mist and fog drifted thickly below, obscuring the view beneath the precipice.
For as long as he'd had consciousness… whether this island had been inhabited or not, he had always been on this mountain peak. All of his memories were inherited from the now-dead elder Piccolo. His bloodline, his hatred, his talents… all of it came from him. In truth, he had never personally seen the world beyond this mountain top.
An impulse surged in Piccolo's heart—he decided to go down and take a look.
As long as he was careful, that despicable old man probably wouldn't detect him.
After all, these past few months, that black-haired Kakarot had never noticed him. Piccolo had great confidence in his own exceptional demonic talent. He firmly believed he was the painstaking crystallization of the previous Great Demon King Piccolo's will for revenge. Given time, he was certain he could surpass anyone in this world.
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Hathaway sat on a soft chair, sipping a hot drink while reading a book. The book was digital, projected in midair by Jarvis as a translucent screen that responded to her gaze—scrolling upward automatically as her pupils moved. She read fast, nearly scanning ten lines in a glance. The text on the air-screen scrolled like a digital ticker.
The book was written by Taro. It was a blend of fiction and essay.
"The Martial Artist's Notes."
Hathaway didn't understand martial arts and had no particular interest in such things. But she had once been a reader of Taro's earlier work, "The Uchiha Sinner's," written years ago, and it was through that book they had first crossed paths. Naturally, she was curious about her husband's new work.
This book, through a fictional tale, described the protagonist's journey in training and cultivation. Though only a draft for now, the twists and turns of the story, its ups and downs, and emotional depth already leapt off the page. Hathaway knew well—someone like her husband, who had cultivated in the mundane world for three hundred years, if he truly poured his insights into words, even without ornate diction or poetic flourishes, it would still strike straight at the heart.
Moreover, the tone and language of this book carried a natural grandeur—the kind of world-embracing, star-reaching boldness that could only come from someone standing atop not just Earth, but the entire universe. This was written by a martial artist who had roamed the galaxy, who had lived and died a thousand deaths. What hadn't he experienced? What hadn't he seen through?
Within the book were the protagonist's early, naive dreams of learning martial arts.
It made Hathaway imagine her husband, long ago, as he'd trained under the man he called Master Taro. He must've been awkward then too, she thought with a faint smile.
The protagonist once acted recklessly out of pride and nearly caused disaster. He once sat atop a mountain for three days and nights in self-reflection… He had faced doubts—wondering whether it was still necessary to pursue martial arts in the temptations of the wider world… He had once been lost in beauty and pleasure, once drunk and dissipated, once despairing and defeated… He had fought for his life, nearly dying… He had vanquished demons, punished evil, and upheld justice… This wasn't a perfect man, but a flawed one—an ordinary person stumbling forward on the martial path.
However…
Only about forty percent of the book was story. The rest was a detailed explanation of martial philosophy—Taro's personal insights on the path of martial arts.
In the final chapter, after a lifetime of trials and setbacks, the protagonist solidifies his belief in martial arts. He travels the world, gathering wisdom from countless schools, and finally founds the "Sun and Moon School" of martial arts… Of course, "Sun and Moon School" didn't exist in reality. It was a fictional style invented by Taro within the book.
But fiction or not, the martial concepts in it were very real—and entirely practical.
And knowing the kind of man her husband was, Hathaway had no doubt he would never fabricate empty martial theories just for the sake of a book. After reading it, she was sure of one thing: this was Taro's gift to martial artists around the world—and to anyone who admired or was curious about the martial path—a true and genuine guidebook for martial enlightenment.
Though it was called a martial arts primer, Hathaway believed that even a martial arts grandmaster could certainly glean insights from the book.
There was a passage where the protagonist debated with a grandmaster named "Mutaito" atop a sheer cliff for an entire day and night.
Both of them, in the story, had already founded their own martial disciplines and stood as martial grandmasters in their own right. Their ideological clash was so vivid and intense that even Hathaway, who knew nothing of martial arts, found her heart stirred and her emotions roused. It was as if the author had split himself in two—when writing Mutaito, he became a master who had completely integrated the Mutaito Style; when writing the protagonist, he became the grandmaster of the Sun-Moon Style.
The two went back and forth, words sharp as blades, debates dazzling as lotus blossoms in full bloom. Each word and phrase was pure gold, each voice and tone thundered with truth.
Hathaway believed this was her husband using the protagonist's voice to debate with his own teacher, Master Mutaito. The purpose wasn't to overturn anything, but to better inherit the will of the former master. Through debate, he elucidated the Mutaito Style, the Sun-Moon Style, all the martial schools in the book, and even the real-world martial arts of Earth. Every word hit the mark—sharp, deep, and unforgettable.
After establishing the "Virtual Earth Network" to offer a global platform for martial artists to exchange and grow, her husband had then poured his heart and soul into this book, offering it to the world, to enlighten the path of martial arts for all who yearned for it. Hathaway guessed that the concept for this book had long been in his mind, but only recently had it been finally committed to words. Surely, this was the result of years of tempering himself, recording his experiences silently, and ultimately transcribing them into prose.
Calling this book the Sacred Text of Martial Arts for Earth's martial artists would not be an exaggeration.
Hathaway decided that once her husband finished revising the draft, she would hand it over to the Virtual Earth Network Company and Capsule Corporation to have it distributed across the planet.
She had heard her husband speak of the past—about his master Mutaito, and also about his fellow disciple, Tsuru. Compared to her husband, that Tsuru was truly of no significance. It was her husband who had first initiated the creation of the Virtual Earth Network, and now had personally compiled this martial arts sacred text. He was the one who had truly fulfilled Master Taro's legacy.
A world where anyone could learn martial arts, where everyone could grow stronger.
Just as Hathaway was about to savor the book a second time, Jarvis's voice chimed in her ear: "Madam, Piccolo has gone down the mountain."
Without looking up, Hathaway asked casually, "Does Taro know?"
"How could anything escape Master Taro's notice?"
"Then let him go. Don't disturb me while I'm reading."