The silence that followed was heavy, a suffocating weight that pressed down on Goku, Chi-Chi, and even Bulma.
They didn't fully grasp why Gran was being so insistent, but the logic was undeniable: if Chi-Chi had her way, Gohan would never train. And if a crisis ever arose that Goku couldn't handle alone, Gohan—untrained and vulnerable—would meet the grim end Gran had described.
"Goku!"
Chi-Chi let out a sob and buried her face in Goku's chest. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her son.
"Lord Gran... will that future really happen?" Bulma asked, her voice laced with concern. Goku was her best friend, and she cared for Gohan as if he were family; the tragedy Gran described was too much to stomach.
"I'm only saying it's a possibility," Gran replied, stepping toward Goku. He patted the younger Saiyan's shoulder. "This kid's potential is terrifyingly obvious. Don't let his talent go to waste."
"I won't! I promise!"
Goku didn't hesitate. The thought of Gohan dying because of a dream of being a scholar was enough to settle the matter once and for all. His voice carried a level of resolve that left no room for argument. Chi-Chi heard it, too, but this time, she didn't protest.
They didn't know it yet, but years later, when Future Trunks would arrive to warn them of a dying world, Goku and Chi-Chi would look back on this moment with profound gratitude, realizing that Gran's harsh warning had saved their family.
"Well, our visit is over. Thank you for the hospitality," Gran said, preparing to leave. He paused at the door, turning back to Goku one last time.
"By the way, Kakarot... remember that pirate treasure you stumbled upon when you were looking for the Dragon Balls as a kid? Earth is full of gold and hidden riches like that."
With that cryptic tip, Gran, Whis, and Broly stepped out of the house. Bulma looked at the couple, then at Gran's retreating, and hurried to catch up.
Left alone, the family stood in silence until Gran's presence had completely vanished. Suddenly, Chi-Chi pulled away from Goku, her eyes wide with a different kind of intensity.
"Goku! What was Big Brother Gran saying about pirate treasure and gold?!"
"Huh?" Goku blinked, still processing everything. He wasn't entirely sure why Gran had brought that up. "I don't really know... I'll have to think about it."
"Then think faster!!" Chi-Chi grabbed his arm, her urgency peaking.
"Treasure" and "Gold"—those words carried the sweet scent of financial security. Chi-Chi hadn't always cared about money; her father, the Ox-King, had a castle full of it.
But since marrying Goku, she had realized that his appetite was a literal black hole. The prize money from the World Martial Arts Tournament was disappearing faster than he could swallow a bowl of ramen. Eventually, they'd be living off her father's charity.
That was exactly why she wanted Gohan to be a scholar: so he could earn a steady, high-paying salary. But if there were literal mountains of gold waiting to be found...
"I remember now!" Goku said, his eyes lighting up with the memory. "When Bulma and I were looking for the third Dragon Ball, we were chased into a pirate's hidden cove by General Blue of the Red Ribbon Army.
There were piles of gold and jewels everywhere! They were all shiny and sparkly in the light—it was really something!"
Goku, in his characteristic simplicity, focused on how pretty the jewels looked. He didn't realize what they meant for his family's bank account. But Chi-Chi did. Her face flushed with excitement.
"Goku!" She gripped his arm tightly.
Goku, still holding Gohan, jumped at her sudden outburst. "What is it?"
"I've changed my mind! Gohan doesn't need to be a scholar. I want you to train him into the greatest martial artist there is!"
"Wait, really? Why the sudden change?" Goku was thrilled, but baffled.
"We have pirate treasure! We have more money than we know what to do with! Why on earth would Gohan need to be a scholar?!" Chi-Chi looked at Gohan, her heart aching.
"Big Brother Gran was right. If Gohan died because I forced him to study instead of fight, I'd never forgive myself!"
"But Chi-Chi," Goku interjected weakly, "that treasure is at the bottom of the ocean. It's not exactly our money."
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Chi-Chi grabbed his ear and gave it a sharp yank. "You're the hero who defeated King Piccolo! You're the strongest man on Earth! Are you telling me you can't dive into the ocean and pick up some gold?!"
Goku winced and gritted his teeth, not daring to argue. She had a point. Diving for treasure was child's play for someone with his strength.
"Alright, alright! I'll ask Bulma to make me a treasure radar. If there's gold somewhere, I'll go get it. Does that work?"
"Hmph! That's more like it." Chi-Chi finally let go, a triumphant smile on her face. "Seeing how much you eat, I was worried my hair would turn white from the stress of it all. And then with Gohan growing up... I didn't know how I'd afford to feed you both!"
She put her hands on her hips and let out a boisterous laugh. "But now! It's my turn to be a rich lady! Ohohohoho~!"
The lights of the dome house flickered warmly in the night, Chi-Chi's laughter echoing through the mountain air.
High above in the night sky, four figures were flying westward.
"Lord Gran, I'm starting to think you didn't just come to Goku's for the food," Bulma teased. "This was all for Gohan, wasn't it?"
Gran didn't answer, but a small smile remained on his face. He could tell Chi-Chi had shifted her perspective, which meant his trip to Mt. Paozu was a success.
"And Lord Gran," Bulma added, tilting her head, "why the sudden mention of pirate treasure?"
Gran glanced back toward the mountains. "You've seen our appetites, Bulma. You know how much a Saiyan eats."
Bulma immediately flashed back to the sheer volume of food Gran and Broly had consumed at her house.
She shuddered. If her family weren't the richest on the planet, they'd be in the poorhouse by now. Thinking of Chi-Chi trying to feed two Saiyans on a modest budget, everything clicked.
"You really think of everything, don't you?" Bulma said, giving him a thumbs-up. She could have easily supported Goku's family herself, but she knew Goku and Chi-Chi were too proud to accept a handout. Gran had given them a way to earn it.
Whis, who had been silent, finally spoke up. "Gran, if you care so much about Goku and his son, why not just take them with—"
Gran cut him off smoothly. "Everyone has their own path. Kakarot needs time to let his power settle here on Earth before he can truly explode in growth. It isn't the right time. Not yet."
He accelerated, flying toward West City. Whis and Broly shared a look before following suit.
For the next week, Gran kept a low profile. He had Bulma prepare the tools for the Super Dragon Radar, but otherwise, he spent his days touring Earth's restaurants with Whis.
One morning, Whis approached Gran in the garden. "So, where are we eating today?"
"You're on your own today, Whis," Gran said, looking up at the sky. "I need to head into deep space to take care of some planetary destruction duties."
"Planetary destruction?" Whis blinked. Since when was he this diligent? But then he remembered Gran's goal to make Universe 7 surpass Universe 1, and the confusion vanished. "I see. Hard work is necessary, I suppose."
Gran smirked. While "clearing planets" was a valid excuse, his real mission was to take Bulma to the Nameless Planet to finalize the radar. He couldn't take Whis along—it would be too hard to explain how he knew the exact location of a Super Dragon Ball.
"Lord Gran! Are you going to go blow up some planets? Can I come and watch?" Bulma asked, running toward them.
Whis sighed. This "caretaker" was becoming quite the handful. He expected Gran to refuse.
"Fine. I guess I can take the tag-along for once," Gran said, feigning annoyance while inwardly celebrating. He knew Bulma couldn't resist a chance to see the universe, and this way, he didn't have to ask her to come.
Whis's eyes widened at the unexpected invitation.
"Whis, enjoy the food on Earth for a bit. I'll be back as soon as the cleanup is done. It won't take long."
Before Whis could respond, Gran, Bulma, and Broly vanished. Whis stood alone in the garden, shaking his head before heading off to find his next meal.
Meanwhile, in Universe 4...
Nearly two months had passed since the Great Tournament of the Candidates. Despite the time, the atmosphere in Universe 4 remained suffocatingly tense, a direct reflection of the God of Destruction's foul mood.
In the Destroyer Realm, four figures stood trembling outside the palace: a red cube-man, a grey-skinned mouse-like creature, a blue slime, and a metallic man. These were the original candidates Quitela had gathered.
They had been spared from the tournament once Graw was found, and looking at the current state of things, they were glad they hadn't been picked.
"Graw was a monster, and even he lost," the cube-man whispered.
"I'm just glad it wasn't us. We wouldn't have survived a minute," the mouse-creature added, shivering.
"I want to know where that freak from Universe 7 came from," the metallic man said, clenching his fists. "Taking on ten people at once and winning..."
They hadn't seen the fight, but Cognac, their Angel, had given them the highlights.
"Shut it! Lord Quitela is already in a rage," the blue slime hissed. "You want to join the 'destroyed' list?"
The palace suddenly shook with a primal, hysterical scream. "WHY?! WHY?!"
Inside, the halls were a wreck. Quitela had smashed nearly everything in sight. Cognac stood by with his staff, watching the God of Destruction's tantrum with a detached expression.
After two hours, Quitela finally stopped. He stood amidst the debris, his breathing heavy but his temper finally cooling. Cognac tapped his staff, and the palace was instantly restored to its pristine state.
"Cognac."
"Yes, Lord Quitela?" Cognac's voice was mechanical, devoid of emotion. He had seen this cycle far too many times.
"You're disappointed in me, aren't you?"
Cognac's lip twitched ever so slightly. Do I really need to say it?
Quitela sighed. "You told me once that a Destroyer can be ruthless, even cruel, but never small-minded. I thought I was better than that... until I ran into Beerus." He trailed off, looking down. "I'm sorry for being a disappointment."
Cognac looked up, surprised. Had the mouse finally seen the light?
But a second later, Quitela's eyes narrowed into slits. "Tell me the truth, Cognac. That candidate of Beerus's... did he touch the realm of Angel-level martial arts?"
Quitela gritted his teeth, his face a mask of pure envy and hatred.
Cognac sighed internally. Of course. He hadn't changed; he was digging a deeper hole.
"He was glowing with a silver aura, but when that lion from Universe 1 pushed him, his hair turned back to black," Quitela muttered, his voice trembling with a hint of genuine fear. "I knew something was wrong. Even I, a God of Destruction, couldn't track his movements properly! If it was the Ultra Instinct of the Angels... then it makes sense!"
Quitela actually took a step back, his body shaking. "Cognac! Tell me! Did he reach that level?!"
"He did," Cognac nodded. He hadn't planned on revealing the depth of Gran's training, but since Quitela asked, there was no point in lying. This was the genius his father and the Grand Minister were watching, after all.
"DAMMIT!!"
Quitela's power—an eighth-level Energy of Destruction—surged out like a tidal wave. Anything the purple energy touched was instantly erased into stardust.
Even the four candidates outside the palace were vaporized in an instant. By the time the surge stopped, the entire Destroyer Realm had been erased. Quitela and Cognac were left floating in a void.
"Lord Quitela, you've lost your composure again," Cognac said, frowning. He tapped his staff, and the Destroyer Realm flickered back into existence.
Quitela panted, trying to release the fear knotting his stomach. "Cognac... we're going to Universe 6 and 7. Now!"
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