Dragon Ball Human

After the Rabbit Boss deactivated its ability, restoring the diners it had turned into carrots back to their human forms, Yamiru wasted no time. With one decisive stroke, he beheaded the fallen Rabbit Boss.

The Rabbit Boss's earless head rolled away.

Yamiru didn't spare it a glance. Standing beside the headless, limbless corpse, he pressed the tip of his blade into the ground, intending to lean on the hilt to steady himself.

Endless cups of wine, countless enemies heads.

It sounded heroic enough, but the visceral reality of what he'd done triggered an uncontrollable wave of nausea in him. He closed his eyes tightly, gripping the hilt harder, only for the unexpected to happen—he stumbled. The blade, far too sharp thanks to its craftsmanship by Jiora, sliced effortlessly into the ground, embedding itself halfway.

Yamiru retrieved the sword and steadied himself against the overwhelming stench of blood in the air.

He reminded himself: he had survived crossing the vast jungle.

Bloodshed wasn't unfamiliar to him.

He'd encountered carcasses of animals devoured by wild beasts in the jungle, left to rot until maggots swarmed over them, with clouds of flies buzzing incessantly.

The sight and stench were unforgettable.

At that moment, his feelings mirrored the disgust he'd felt when curiosity once led him to click on a certain infamous video. His mind had been consumed with questions like, "Why did I have to see this?" and "Why am I even here?"

Compared to the brutality and carnage he had witnessed in the forest, the scene before him—a headless body, a pair of severed rabbit legs, an earless head staring lifelessly, and a corpse impaled through the mouth by a broken chair leg—didn't seem so horrific. What unsettled him more was the ethical impact of his actions.

"I killed someone," Yamiru thought to himself, his golden Fire Eyes glowing serenely. "But these things don't count as people. Killing them doesn't matter."

The distinction between zero and one was significant.

Yamiru had never killed before, nor had he ever wanted to.

Now he had.

Something within him had changed. He couldn't quite describe it, but he knew it was there.

"Speaking of which—" Yamiru's mind wandered. He frowned in puzzlement. "How did I end up saying something so weird about gender reassignment surgery earlier? If I hadn't thought quickly and used my Golden Veil to trick that fat rabbit, would I have really gone ahead and... no, that's impossible. There's no way I would've done that!"

"Urgh…"

The sudden sound of retching broke his train of thought.

It came from the diners, who had reverted from their carrot forms. Their memories of being transformed were a blank—completely cut off. Their bodies had been too frail to retain consciousness during their carrot state. Now, as they returned to human form, it was as if they'd resumed their lives mid-scene, only to start vomiting uncontrollably.

"It's... it's dead?"

"Who cares? That bastard deserves a stomp!"

Among the diners who had reverted from carrot form, a few of the braver ones, seeing that the Rabbit Boss had already been decapitated, began cursing and kicking its corpse.

Meanwhile, some women huddled in the corners, their faces pale, unwilling to get involved.

They, along with a few others, occasionally glanced nervously at Yamiru, who remained silent. Were it not for his position near the entrance, they might have already bolted out the door. Many of them carried capsule-style transportation devices and could leave immediately upon exiting the restaurant.

However, the sight of the Rabbit Boss's headless corpse, coupled with the memory of Yamiru's earlier "rampage," where he had felled people with a single punch, left them too terrified to approach him.

"Hey! Don't think about running!"

"You all need to pay for this too!"

Someone spotted a few of the Rabbit Boss's lackeys attempting to sneak out through the back and immediately chased after them, their face filled with rage.

Yamiru lifted his foot and followed.

Seeing him head toward the restaurant's backyard, the people in the dining hall reacted as though they'd been pardoned. They surged toward the exit, and soon the sound of capsule vehicles activating filled the air. Moments later came a cacophony of car doors slamming, followed by the roar of motorcycles, screeching jeep tires, and even the whir of helicopters taking off overhead.

"Da-da-da-da-da!"

Suddenly, the sound of machine-gun fire erupted ahead.

"Damn, since when were weapons this common in Dragon Ball?" Yamiru muttered. "If they had firepower, why didn't they just use guns against me earlier?"

Still wary of taking on a machine gun head-on, Yamiru became more cautious as he moved forward, analyzing the situation. "It must've been that fat rabbit's ability. It probably made them overconfident, thinking there wasn't an enemy they couldn't handle."

At that moment, the people who had been chasing the Rabbit Boss's henchmen came running back, fleeing in a panic.

They bolted past Yamiru, their faces a mix of shock and fear. Like a stream encountering a boulder, they split around him, regrouping behind him as they continued to flee. One of them, however, couldn't help but shout as they passed:

"Run! They've got guns!"

"No kidding, I'm not deaf!" Yamiru thought, exasperated. Nonetheless, he tightened his grip on the sword Ball in his pouch, ready to unleash another flying blade if necessary.

"Take this as a lesson," Yamiru thought as he crept cautiously forward, continuing his mental post-battle reflection. "That rabbit put too much faith in its carrot trick and look where it got him. I can't let myself become over-reliant on my Eyes. I need to be prepared for the possibility that my vision could be compromised by an enemy at any moment!"

As Yamiru advanced, the gunfire ahead abruptly ceased.

"Damn it! Give me my gun back!" a rough voice shouted angrily, seemingly directed at whoever had been firing earlier. This was followed by a series of muffled thuds and the faint sound of bones snapping. Then came a soft sigh, and someone said, "Amitabha…"

Yamiru froze in place, stopping at the corner with the intention of observing the situation discreetly. Before he could make a move, the elderly voice that had recited "Amitabha" spoke again.

"There's someone here."

"Huh? Are they talking about me?" Yamiru's heart skipped a beat.

"There's someone else? Damn it, I'll turn them into a sieve!" the rough voice bellowed, clearly agitated. "I was almost turned into a carrot earlier. Scared the hell out of me!" The sound of a gun being cocked followed, and the rough voice barked, "All right, quit hiding. Show yourself!"

Well, damn, they really are talking about me. Yamiru felt a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "Can that 'Amitabha' monk sense ki?"

Rather than stepping out immediately, he shouted, "Relax! I'm an ally! I'm not with that rabbit!"

Then, raising his hands, he walked out. "I'm the one who killed the Rabbit Boss, and I'm also the reason you all turned back from being carrots."

As he stepped into view, Yamiru finally got a clear look at the group.

The small courtyard was crowded with over twenty people. At the forefront stood a towering two-meter-tall soldier wielding a machine gun and an elderly monk with long gray-white eyebrows. The monk, presumably the one who had recited "Amitabha," was likely the one who had detected Yamiru's presence.

Between the two lay the lifeless bodies of the Rabbit Boss's henchmen, their necks twisted at unnatural angles—a clear sign they were beyond saving.

Behind them stood a mix of about twenty people, either bright-eyed boys and girls with innocent expressions or robust young and middle-aged adults.

The soldier, machine gun still trained in Yamiru's direction, paused upon seeing the small boy.

"You're the one who took down that rabbit?" the soldier asked, lowering his gun slightly.

"That's right." Yamiru approached, modestly adding, "Honestly, as long as you don't let that rabbit turn you into a carrot, it's not that big of a deal."

As Yamiru drew closer, the soldier suddenly reached out with a hand large enough to palm Yamiru's entire head.

In an instant, Yamiru deftly sidestepped, disappearing from view like a ghost. The next moment, a sharp whoosh caught the soldier's attention. He froze as he realized the tip of a blade was now hovering just five centimeters below his chin. Looking down, he saw Yamiru had maneuvered into his blind spot, seemingly conjuring a knife from nowhere.

"Okay, I believe you," the soldier said, his tone conceding. He gently pushed the blade away with a finger. "Could you put that thing away? It's giving me a heart attack."

The split-second realization of the blade's presence had nearly made the man's heart stop—and brought him perilously close to wetting himself.

Yamiru retracted the knife.

Thanks to the prevalence of capsule technology on Earth, Yamiru didn't bother hiding the way his sword orb was stored. After all, anyone with an empty capsule and a knife could achieve a similar effect.

The monk turned to Yamiru, his gaze calm and admiring. "Impressive skill! Young benefactor, what martial art do you practice?"

"Jiora Flow Interstellar Military Saber Technique," Yamiru replied, fabricating a style on the spot. In truth, he barely knew any proper sword techniques. He then asked in return, "And you, monk? Which temple are you from?"

The monk smiled kindly. "This humble monk hails from the Orin Temple. I am the Fourteenth Monk of our order. I have yet to thank you for saving our lives. Amitabha…"

Oh, so he's one of Krillin's elders, Yamiru mused.

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