And so, Mr. Popo departed on his flying carpet, while Yamiru and the others traveled for several days before finally arriving at Annin's settlement.
The place had a distinctly post-apocalyptic vibe—no refined architecture, no pristine environment, and resources were scarce. Yet even the weakest women and children carried no trace of despair in their expressions. It made sense: in an era where a single dark thought could twist someone into a demon, the survivors were those with unshakable resolve.
"Or perhaps, to avoid becoming monsters, they've resorted to self-hypnosis, brainwashing themselves into unwavering conviction." Yamiru mused as he walked under the silent gazes of the settlement's inhabitants. "...The conviction to remain human."
Walking beside Annin and the angel Sherie, he occasionally glanced around. Soon, he noticed not everyone was paying attention to their group—like the nearby herd of goat-headed and pig-faced beings, clearly the ancestors of Earth's future "animal-people". They toiled like second-class citizens, yet showed no resentment or curiosity. Their behavior hadn't changed at all since Annin's return—simple-minded, almost dull.
"Maybe it's not about nobility at all…" Yamiru thought. "Future generations aren't necessarily worse, and ancients aren't all saints. Even if the adults of this era are paragons, what about the children? They might remain uncorrupted simply because their minds are too pure—like how Devilman's evil rays had no effect on Goku's innocent heart. Sheltered by adults, they're shielded from complex thoughts. For the sake of survival, no one would dare spread dark ideas in front of them.
"As for these animal-people, mutated by demonic energy, their minds in this early era are far simpler than their descendants like Oolong. Their entire species is still in its 'childhood'—that explains everything."
Perhaps this was why the humans of this age tolerated these "mutants".
Though the animal-people looked nothing like humans—with their beastly features—they weren't demons. But accepting these neither-human-nor-demon beings as equals? After suffering so much at the hands of monsters, the humans of this era likely lacked that magnanimity. So they turned a blind eye: 'We'll keep you around, but when trouble comes, you're the first to fight!'
"There are still extremists who believe these mutants are essentially demons…"
Noticing Yamiru's observant gaze, Annin murmured. Their similar heights made it easy to speak softly without turning their heads.
Yamiru nodded slightly. No wonder the animal-people in the rescue team had been chained together—like prisoners. Only their childlike simplicity made such treatment tolerable. Any other race would've rebelled, maybe even defected to the demons.
But judging from the demons' disdain earlier, they slaughtered humans but looked down even more on these half-breeds. If the mutants of this era had the same intelligence as future animal-people, their fate would've been annihilation—by both humans and demons.
Yamiru shook his head inwardly. Let nature take its course.
"Everything will be fine." That was all he could offer. And was it? By Bulma, Tights, and Goku's time, subtle prejudice against animal- and monster-people still existed. But compared to their current status as second-class labor and cannon fodder, the future was undoubtedly better.
Annin clearly leaned toward equality, but as a pure human in a demon-infested world, she had no time for idealism. If humans and mutants coexisted peacefully for now, so be it. Yamiru's thoughts aligned with hers—everything would improve, whether regarding the demons or humanity itself.
Watching Annin's weary yet resolute expression from the corner of his eye, Yamiru grew more certain of his suspicions.
After settling in, the group joined a modest but warm bonfire gathering that evening.
The flames were kept low—no one wanted to attract demons, even if only weaklings lurked nearby. Children ran and played, while the animal-people—cheerful laborers by day—frolicked with them like overgrown kids. An elephant-man's trunk was stretched comically long, yet he didn't mind. A dog-headed man barked playfully in a contest with a child. A little girl mimicked a cat-girl's graceful walk, both giggling.
Tiny torches dotted the camp like fallen stars.
"Sadala was once like this too…" Yamoshi murmured beside a small flame, watching the children and animal-people play under the flickering light.
Sadala was a planet of many races, once thriving and prosperous. Countless interstellar species—refugees, immigrants—lived alongside native Sadalans like Yamoshi. Though they looked vastly different—some not even flesh and blood, just walking chunks of metal—they saw each other as kin.
But after the rise of the S-Warriors, everything changed…
Tyrannical rule. Indiscriminate slaughter. The S-Warriors' overwhelming, unstoppable power…
When Yamoshi left Sadala, part of it was her innate aversion to conflict—an ostrich mentality, wanting to flee far away. But another part was sheer hopelessness. The S-Warriors seemed invincible. One by one, even former allies joined them, their personalities warped beyond recognition. Heartbroken and despairing, Yamoshi exiled herself in secret.
Yet what she witnessed on Earth gave her new perspective.
Especially the humans—weak by her standards. Without the Namekian and Yamiru, few would've reached Samuel's lair alive. But not once had she seen regret on their faces, only frustration at failing to kill more demons.
'If no one resists the S-Warriors… then maybe I should be the first.'
This thought had haunted Yamoshi these past days.
---
"I thought I'd be the first… and the last."
Nearby, Yamiru and Annin stood together, an unspoken understanding between them. After silently observing the bonfire gathering, Annin broke the quiet with this cryptic remark. Yamiru turned to her—more precisely, to the Furnace of Eight Divisions pendant around her neck.
"You've probably heard legends about me and the furnace. Some are distorted, others not entirely false…" Annin clasped the miniature furnace, murmuring, "It did fall from the sky, landing in my village when I was born… And this wasn't the first time."
Yamiru's eyes widened. "So you've reincarnated multiple times…" His tone grew certain. "Of course. With the boundary between the Underworld and the living world shattered, Earth's dead can't pass through Mount Five Elements. Most souls wander as ghosts—some reincarnate, some become demons, others merge with demonic energy or animals, creating the mutants we see now…"
Annin stared into the dark distance, silent.
"And what makes you special—your power, your repeated rebirths—" Yamiru continued, "is the furnace. It's bound to you. Every reincarnation, it finds you again. It's also why you surpass ordinary humans… Whether it's the furnace breaking your limits, or—"
"The furnace preserves my energy," Annin said. "Each life, I grow stronger than the last."
"I see…" Yamiru exhaled, nodding slowly. "That explains it."
Under the dim starlight, the angel Sherie stood atop a distant roof, her face obscured. Whether she watched the horizon or the scene below, no one could tell.
---
If you can, support me on pa treon:
Pa treon. com/ RightTranslations (No spaces)
Up to 100 chapters ahead.