While Bardock was enjoying training and fighting strong opponents, so was I. I fought every day and even planned to reach first place on the first floor as a second-year. I thought to myself that it wasn't fun to be afraid of tough fights. Even if someone much stronger challenged me, I wouldn't lose much by losing a fight.
In terms of battle power across the entire camp, maybe ten people were stronger than me. Out of those ten, not a single one could defeat me without me having a real chance of winning. Because of that, I decided that after two more months of focused training—both physical conditioning and ki control—I would advance to the first floor and try to conquer it as quickly as possible.
I trained relentlessly. I started buying heavy equipment and weights from the shop and wore them even while fighting on the second floor. It was extremely challenging at first, but I adapted to the slower movements and weaker punches. Once I had no trouble fighting on the second floor even with the weights on, I stopped seeking fights, except when challenges were issued to me. That didn't happen often—Saiyans loved to fight, but they didn't think much about injuries. Of course, since death matches were involved, they weren't reckless enough to challenge me often. It still happened once or twice a week, which didn't interfere with my schedule.
For two months straight, I did nothing but train, eat, and sleep. I didn't use a scouter because it felt better to see a bigger jump in power all at once. After finishing my meditation one day, I pulled the scouter from under my bed and went to a desolate area of the camp near the outdoor toilets. Hardly anyone ever went there—usually only weak Saiyans who didn't have proper bathrooms in their rooms.
I went behind the row of toilets and released my full power without any restraint. When I checked the scouter, it showed 4800. The last time I had checked—four months ago, during my Oozaru training—my power level was 3600. That meant I had gained 1200 power in four months: roughly 300 per month, or roughly 10 per day. Those were excellent results for my still-growing body. I didn't know how that compared to other young Saiyans because they didn't train like I did, but I was satisfied.
With that settled, I decided to see what the second year had to offer. I went to Commander Turtle and knocked on his door. After waiting patiently, I heard him say, "Enter." He was sitting at his desk, and without looking at me, he asked what I needed.
"I want the lectures and courses for the second year, and what they offer," I said calmly.
He nodded, pulled out a paper that looked like it had already been prepared, and handed it to me. "Here," he said, returning to his work. I picked it up, thanked him, and asked if I could leave.
"Yes," he replied. "And close the door carefully. Don't slam it, or I'll break your bones."
I made sure to close it very carefully.
Back in my room, I looked over the schedule. Second-year students were supposed to learn: Great Ape control, flight techniques, advanced combat methods, how to deal with weaker opponents quickly, and how to survive against stronger enemies without losing too fast. I immediately knew I needed help with flight techniques. I could fly, but not as efficiently as Saiyans with similar power levels. That was a class I would definitely attend.
Great Ape control wasn't necessary for me, and most of the other lessons felt familiar. However, dealing with weaker opponents efficiently was especially important. No matter how much stronger I was, I still wasted too much ki and time fighting weaklings—except when I personally enjoyed prolonging the fight.
I decided I could attend these lectures while still aiming for first place on the first floor and collecting all the benefits that came with it. I grabbed a list of first-floor Saiyans and started looking around rank #150. That's when I saw a female Saiyan with a strange name—Gertha. I chose her simply because I could.
Not long after, she showed up. She was good-looking by Saiyan standards, with long, dark, spiky hair reaching down to her tail—but I didn't care. I was there to win, and I would do it without mercy. I bet 40,000 coins. She bet 20,000 and her room. I wanted to raise the bet, but she refused—she had heard rumors about a second-floor Saiyan who could go further but chose not to.
We entered the ring. The moment the referee shouted "START," Gertha lunged at me. I didn't move my body—only my head—as I dodreflectively dodged her attack. Then I dropped my stance and snapped a right uppercut into her nose. Blood immediately poured out. Without stopping, I followed up with a left spinning elbow, striking the same spot. She was unconscious in less than three moves.
The crowd erupted.
I collected my rewards without showing any emotion, ignoring the Saiyans screaming my name. I briefly considered using weights during fights, but that would be idiotic. Losing even a fraction of reaction time could cost me the match—and possibly more. For now, I would continue fighting normally until I reached first place. After that, I could think about adding weights to combat.