After understanding the reason behind Annin's strength—far surpassing that of an ordinary Earthling—even Yamiru couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
After all, what he had hoped for was that Annin might possess some advanced, profound training method that truly allowed her to break through her limits. But now, it seemed her power stemmed primarily from the unique properties of the Furnace of Eight Divisions bound to her—preserving her ki across reincarnations, accumulating life after life, until it forged the formidable Earthling heroine before him: Annin, the future Supreme Elderly Lord.
And who had crafted this key to her strength?
Her master, Sherie—an angel.
From what Yamiru now knew, angels all hailed from the Celestial Realm, serving the Celestial God Bartender much like the dragon Race served the Dragon God. Would Sherie be willing to gift Yamiru his own furnace? Setting aside whether he had the audacity to ask—or whether the furnace was even something Sherie could replicate—if multiple furnaces were possible, Annin, who cared deeply for Earth's fate, would've surely begged her master to create more. More "Annins" fighting together would only increase their chances of saving the world, no?
Yet to this day, there was only one Annin and one furnace.
Turning these thoughts over, Yamiru knew hoping for a second furnace was futile. More importantly, he wasn't entirely keen on Annin's path to power anyway.
Because to him, while her method boosted strength, it didn't feel like true growth.
Even Yamiru's demonic transformation—forcibly absorbing demonic Ki—was something he took for himself, not something given by an external artifact. He was certain there was a subtle but crucial distinction between the two.
'I dare to take because I have the foundation to back it up.' His martial arts mastery allowed him to control the surge of demonic power, and he trusted the Dragon God's mark to keep him sane. But relying on something to give him power? That was passive. If the furnace failed, Annin would be helpless. If it overloaded her with Ki, the consequences could be dire.
True growth meant autonomy. The freedom to choose—whether to risk everything or progress steadily.
Otherwise, the Super Saiyan transformation wouldn't have its strict triggers, would it?
To become a Super Saiyan, two conditions were non-negotiable: S-Cell count (a reflection of inner purity) and base power level (a measure of overall prowess). It was like a genetic lock—fail either, and you weren't worthy.
No one ever heard of Super Saiyan Ki being stored in a "golden furnace" inside every Saiyan, detached from the individual, doling out power whenever it pleased…
—Of course, if Yamiru were in Annin's shoes, he wouldn't be picky. Furnace or not, he'd seize any means to grow stronger. But he wasn't her. To him, Annin was already the future Supreme Elderly Lord, mutants were now peaceful animal-people, and demons were fading into history.
If Yamiru had been willing to lower his standards, he'd never have left South City. If he'd been content with being given power rather than taking it, he'd have accepted the Dragon God's offer of "unrivaled cosmic strength with a snap of his fingers" back at Korin Tower.
'This isn't about martial pride…' Yamiru stood beside Annin in the shadows, thoughts quiet but resolute. 'I've just come to love the feeling of surpassing myself—the grind of the spirit, the tempering of will, the expansion of vision. It's how I honor the person who chose to leave South City… me.'
He'd left to become a martial artist worthy of standing alongside geniuses like Goku and Piccolo—not to chase power through shortcuts. Back when he first transmigrated, his now-discarded diary had brimmed with wild schemes:
- Scrape together travel funds, sweet-talk Bulma into a Dragon Ball hunt, wish for "the ability to summon the Dragon Balls", then coast on yearly wishes—clone Goku's DNA today, immortality tomorrow.
- If those were too greedy? Settle for a growth-oriented wish—like Majin Buu's absorption ability. Gobble up Piccolo's egg, a dying Raditz, a disassembled Mecha Freeza, the Androids, Cell… level up effortlessly.
But he'd abandoned those plans quickly. Why bother if his heart wasn't in it? Earth's crises already had Goku and company handling them. If Yamiru just wanted a cozy life, he could've cozyied up to the main cast, parked himself at Kame House, and chuckled through every apocalypse. By the time Piccolo became a babysitter and Vegeta a dad, he could've been cracking jokes with former villains at parties.
Earth was the ultimate "life mode" playground—if that's all you wanted.
But since Yamiru had chosen "hard mode", he owed it to his past self not to cheat. If he'd wanted shortcuts, he might as well have gone all-in on wish abuse from the start.
So even if Sherie dropped a furnace on his head now, he'd refuse.
Because it was about staying true to himself.
As the bonfire dwindled, Annin's voice pulled him back.
"…But as Master said, ending this requires more than just the power to kill the six demon kings—especially Satan." Her fingers tightened around the furnace pendant. "The rift between Earth and the Underworld must be sealed…"
Yamiru's gaze fell to the pendant.
"The furnace was originally crafted to seal the rift. Helping me reincarnate and grow stronger was just… tacked on." Annin's voice wavered. "If I use it to close the gap, I'll lose most of my power. Even if I defeat Satan, I might not survive… Tell me, Yamiru. What choice do I have?"
After a pause, Yamiru replied softly, "All these convoluted rules… They seem designed to give Earthlings hope—but never let them win."