Chapter 4: Journey

A whole year passed in the blink of an eye. Hit became known as a helpful, yet solemn, person. He had continued to work diligently and saved up a good amount of money for his journey.

Constant, painstaking, training in the wilderness had transformed Hit into quite the muscular teen. Weaving through the tree canopy had improved his reflexes and agility immensely; long distance swimming had enhanced his endurance; stone-weight lifting acted as strength training; and the use of tree trunks as targets improved his martial arts and hardened his fists.

Unfortunately, image training; meditation; and the precise control of specific muscle groups, were the only more elaborate training methods he had managed to gain access to. The use of ki, and therefore the activation of his time skip, still eluded him. He had grown quite a lot since his awakening, and now stood somewhat above average in height for his age, as opposed to his prior feeble state. Hit had made sure to focus on rectifying years of malnutrition and inactivity and brought out his body's full potential. To an inhabitant of this world, it was incredible how strong he had become in such a short time. Once again, we find ourselves at a river's edge, our protagonist standing in his usual training spot before a large oak tree. He stood in a basic, but solid, boxing stance.

"HRAA!".

With a shout, Hit launched a straight jab forward, held in the phoenix eye fist to focus all his energy into a single point. The mighty tree groaned as splinters erupted from the point of impact. A crash sounded as it fell to Earth after standing tall for decades.

"Well, this is underwhelming", Hit harrumphed.

He still found his current strength lacking: the tree should have been blown away completely by his standards. Unbeknownst to Hit, this feat he had just performed, was beyond the pinnacle of strength for an unblessed human in this world. His training, refined over a millennium, had done wonders. During experimental tests of this new body, Hit had discovered that it was limiting itself to conserve energy and for self preservation. He found this utterly ludicrous. Why would someone's own body limit its strength to around a third of its maximum? This stupefaction obviously did not consider the average power level of beings in Hit's universe, which could withstand the strain. Hit had simply brute forced his way through and had access to his maximum theoretical strength. Meditation and fine tuning had offset the negative impacts of runaway metabolism and self-inflicted injury; however, Hit still was not satisfied with the result.

'This doesn't make sense. I could topple mountains, even before learning to use ki. Could it be my human body?' Thinking hard, Hit remembered two tournament fighters of universe 7: one from the three eyed clan, and the other with the appearance of a monk: six jieba on his forehead.

'No, the humans of universe 7 weren't this atrociously weak'. Hit scratched his head. '...But... does that mean I'm not human? I cannot be the same as those humans from universe 7, or the recently revived humans of universe 6.'

Saiyans and humans appeared virtually identical to Hit; however, the truth was anything but. Perhaps it was the same case for his current race. It could also be that this plane was not subjected to exactly the same simple laws, such as gravity and nuclear force. Either that, or the physical makeup of this universe may differ at the subatomic level. What worried Hit the most, was that even if he activated his time skip, what would be the point?

At its most basic level, 'time skip' can be used to skip a tenth of a second into the future. This is fine if you are someone who can move beyond lightspeed, allowing the user to move kilometres instantly, but not when you can only run at around 35 miles an hour. He would have to evolve the technique further.

Hit had never thought of developing his time skip, before meeting his energetic arch-rival, Goku. Just meeting someone who could keep up with him after so long, allowed Hit to double the power of his technique: to jump 2/10 of a second into the future. It seemed this wasn't enough, when the stubborn Saiyan kept trading blows with him, even when the battle was even more deeply temporally displaced. Inspired, the assassin decided to maximise his potential, solemnised by a new stance and the ability to skip half a second into the future. A blazing kaioken-infused super Saiyan blue opponent pushed Hit beyond even 0.5 seconds. Looking back, Hit still thought it was ludicrous how much he grew.

After winning the match, attempts at pushing his leaps through time further were difficult; perhaps only when faced with an opponent with overwhelming speed and skill could his body be pushed to evolve.

'Even a one second advantage will not suffice when fighting with such a comparatively slow body. I'll have to focus all I have on improving my time skip in order to make it actually worth using.' Luckily, Hit's state of mind was better than ever. Since he could still easily perceive everything around him in less than a tenth of a second, at least when at rest, he would be able to use the momentary delay, caused by time skip, to strategize and analyse his surroundings when fighting against speedier opponents.

A gloomy look slowly came over him. '...if I can actually learn how to use time skip again.'

Hit bent down and picked up the lumber before walking back into town.

"Here you go". Hit let the trunk fall in front of the town workshop, letting out a thud.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Thanks a ton, lad! That's the fifth one this week! Just how can you carry them here all by yourself?" The cheery wood carver, greeting Hit, handed him a cloth.

Wiping down his forehead, Hit replied. "I do what I can".

"Well keep at it! We've been able to do a lot more repairs thanks to you", thanked the shop owner.

"My pay?". Hit believed honest work demanded honest pay. Although, his previous line of work was not exactly honest.

"Oh, sorry lad! Here you go, 30 valis." The man handed him a few shiny coins.

"Thanks". Hit pocketed the change and trudged back to the orphanage.

On the way, Hit revised his travel plans. The date of departure was soon approaching. 'I should be fully packed now. Tent, provisions, bedding, clothing, ...'valis'.'

He withdrew one of the metal objects from his pocket and turned it in the light; a warrior's head shone on one side. These coins were a rare commodity to hit, who was used to having his funds transferred to him electronically. This might seem risky for someone who dealt with illicit activities; however, this did not take into account that no one would dare antagonize the famed assassin. He supposed some civilizations did still use physical currency, particularly those that were less advanced.

Weapons were not among Hit's possessions, as these were unnecessary to him; he had always relied on his bare fists to carve a path ahead.

There was a pep in Hit's step as he strode along; he was feeling quite exuberant about this trip. The only factor that soured his mood was the fact that it would apparently take 3 weeks to reach the city, by foot.

Getting closer, he was met by Mary at the door, who led him to the dining room for a relatively peaceful meal, despite the energetic children bouncing around them. They were growing on Hit slightly, just a teeny bit.

Once in his room, Hit did a final check of his things, packing them inside a larger rucksack Mary had made for him, and settled in for the night.

Footsteps echoed and floorboards squeaked. A purple haired teenager made their way to the orphanage dining hall, intent on having his final meal in his first permanent home in centuries.

"...Good morning deary! It's a big day for you today." A sleepy Mary called out to him; her smile slightly strained.

"Morning". Hit nodded and got his food from the cook, before sitting down beside the doting lady.

As the boy ate, Mary looked at him fondly. "I'm proud of you Hitch. It's only been a year and you've grown so much. I have no idea where you learned to move so quickly, or get so strong..."

"I trained", hit supplied between bites.

"Yes... you took my advice to prepare very seriously." Mary's smile strained too far, and it gave way to a frown. "I just don't know whether you're ready for the dungeon. I'm sorry that I can't give you any advice, we're quite a secluded village".

Hit wiped his mouth with a nearby napkin, eyes tracking something moving across the room. "Not a problem. I'll just learn when I get there."

*CLAP*

Someone clapped their hands behind the pair. "Quite right, my boy! Life should be an adventure!"

Mary jumped at the sudden sound. "Oh, Dr Smith! You scared me half to death!"

The doctor chuckled, "Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to see the lad before he goes".

Dr Smith looked the boy up and down. "Yep, all seems good to me. Together with your regular checks, I'd say you're in absolutely perfect health. Quite the turnaround."

While Mary and the doctor conversed, Hit walked off to freshen up, and gathered his things. He walked in front of the dusty mirror, where a much healthier being, compared to a year ago, stared back at him, dressed in a dark grey shirt, and black trousers. A tan rucksack hung on his back. "Alright, time to set off".

Hit walked back out and stopped at the front door, where two adults stood chatting.

"There he is", Dr Smith remarked.

Mary turned around. "All packed dear?"

Hit pulled at the straps of his pack, showing it was firmly in place. "I'm all set".

Mary gripped her hands tightly, looking like she was holding herself back. It appears that she failed, as the woman rushed to hug the boy.

"Oh, Hitch, I'm going to miss you so, so much". Twinkling tears fell to the wood floor below.

A drop of sweat appeared on Hit's forehead. "...There, there." He patted her on the back. 'She certainly cries a lot...' Hit smiled. 'I must admit, she has cared for me more than anyone ever has. I will not forget this kindness.'

Getting her attention, Hit spoke. "This may be farewell, but I will return some day."

Mary wiped away her tears and smiled again. "I'm sure you will. Are you sure there's nothing that would make you want to stay?", she pleaded, but received no reaction.

A mischievous look appeared on the matron's face. "You know... some of the village girls have been quite impressed with your strength..."

Hit grunted, already knowing what she was getting at. "Forget it".

Mary turned away and crossed her arms, puffing up her cheeks. "Spoil sport. Hmph".

"You're far too old to be making that kind of expression." Dr Smith deadpanned at the odd mannerism.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?" Mary's shocked face grew beet red.

The doctor reached into his pocket and handed Hit a brass plaque with writing engraved on it. "Here you are Hitch, it's a pass that should make getting into the city much easier. No need to pay the entry fee..."

Hit took the object. "I see... Thank you, doctor."

"Haha! No problem kiddo!" The dear doctor ruffled the boy's hair, as he had attempted to at each of Hit's checkups, with mixed results.

"I am not a child anymore, I'm sixteen..." Hit reminded the man in his usual monotone voice, but Mary could tell he was not too annoyed.

Mary sighed: the doctor's diversion was a success. "Let's see you off then". She grabbed Hit's hand, who allowed her to lead him away, one last time.

.

..

…

Once at the entrance of the village, the two adults waved the precious boy off, knowing they would likely never see him again.

Mary continued to stand at the village gate for some time, even after she could no longer see Hit in the distance...

A rock skittered across the ground as a boy strolled along a beaten path. He was holding a map, gaining his bearings. "If only I had that damned cube".

Hit grumbled to himself. He was referring to the hexahedron transport device, promised to him by Vados if he won the tournament of destroyers. As a tool of the angels, it enabled the user to travel infinite distances at speeds even greater than the gods of destruction and allowed passage between universes. Unfortunately, he gave up this prize as a sign of respect for his Saiyan opponent. He was currently regretting this decision.

Map carefully folded away, Hit stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Let's see how quickly I can do this".

Hit always had a quick first step, and he used it now to launch himself into a sprint. 'I can make it in under a week, easy.' His enhanced endurance served him well and he was running until darkness fell.

The nameless village he originated from rarely received visitors, which made his journey rather uneventful, apart from hunting wild animals. Hit did not mind, as it gave him time to think.

In under six days, the path Hit followed became less worn, increasing in complexity and design until he was certain that he reached the main road leading to the fabled city of Orario. As he walked up a hill, Hit saw a white column of some kind, piercing the sky in the distance. At the mound's apex, a great expanse greeted him. Never-ending fields of grass swayed in the wind and the scent of morning dew filled Hit's nostrils. 'So, it took me five days, not bad I suppose.'

In a world as primitive as this, humans could never have possibly erected the structure before him: The great tower of Babel. This was the first clue to the existence of Gods Hit had encountered in this world: an impossibly tall ivory white tower that scratched the heavens. Shadows revealed the presence of detailed fascia and windows across its exterior. The presumed buildings and residences below were blocked from view, hidden by a great defensive wall, which warded off any would-be aggressors and spying eyes.

This was the city of Orario, where thousands of people gathered to test their might within the pillar-dungeon below, eager to explore its tightly guarded secrets. A long thread extended from the gates of the fortification, which was revealed to be a long line of people as Hit approached.

'Fantastic...' Hit looked up at the ridge, noticing guards were conversing. 'Such lack of discipline'.

If Hit still had his time skip, and original speed, it would be child's play to infiltrate this place. Time skip was perfect for hit-and-run attacks: following its activation the user could move directly to any location, avoiding the now motionless obstacles in the way. This was employed during the assassination of a notorious mob boss, who was disposed of without the interference of any of his minions. The greedy pig-faced man had begged for his life at Hit's appearance, offering the organisation's entire stolen fortune in exchange. Hit refused the offer by ending the vermin's life. Had the pig shown mercy to the people he had swindled to move up in the hierarchy?

Hit materialised directly in range of his targets to give them a fighting chance, both as a sign of honour, and to entertain himself. The kill that day had left a bad taste in his mouth, thankfully juxtaposed when he learned the identity of his next target: Son Goku. It is not that he disliked his regular contracts, he was just doing his job; nothing more. When his targets actually held their own, now that was entertaining.

Shaking his head, Hit took notice of the people in front of him. It was mostly what this world called 'humans'; however, he could see some individuals who possessed animal ears, and others who were quite short. Pallums, if Hit recalled correctly. All races seemed to have their strengths: the speed of Werewolves, strength of dwarves, intelligence of elves. Was there anything special about the childlike Pallums?

Hit sighed. 'Guess I'll do some meditation'.

.

..

…

As the line shortened, Hit was finally called forth into the gatehouse; and a meagre, stone-walled room greeted him within.

Shadows danced on the ceiling as a blue haired woman sat at her desk, pen in hand, as she signed documents confirming the entry of temporary and permanent inhabitants to Orario. It was a tedious job, and it was already grating on her nerves. Shakti Varma put down the writing tool and shook her wrist. 'Why do I still have to do this? I'm a captain, why can't we let a rookie handle this?'

Shaking her head, Shakti reminded herself. 'No, only an experienced adventurer can be trusted with such a task'.

As the captain of the Ganesha familia, it was her job to maintain order. Indeed, when letting new denizens into your home, you must he selective. This was especially significant, as segments of Evilus had fled the city years ago and could invade at any moment.

The captain gripped the pen, firmly. 'That pestilence must never be allowed to take hold ever again.'

Only a high-level adventurer could keep the peace so far from the city centre. Their experience with others would also allow them to notice minute actions or mannerisms that would give away any shady business. Sadly, it was her turn to work here today.

"Next!" The woman beckoned the next applicant.

A young teenager entered the room, hands out of view and eyes closed. He was around her height, and had a calm aura around him, sure of his own strength.

Shakti was instantly suspicious and focused all her senses on him. "Name?".

The boy paused, unsure of what name to give. This was Hit's chance to start over on a blank slate. A very small part of him wanted to continue calling himself Hitch, as a form of remembrance to Mary, but this was overruled. If Hit did have to resort to assassinations, he would not want anyone to use it as a lead to reach the kind old lady.

"Hit". The alien finally used his legendary moniker, deep voice shocking the lady a bit.

Shakti waited for a last name that never came.

"...Hit? Just Hit?". 'A nickname perhaps? Suspicious'.

Hit nodded.

The woman plastered a fake smile on her face and pointed a hand to her desk. "Well, 'Hit', I need you to show me what you have inside your bag and pockets before we can proceed. Don't worry, this is just a random check". 'This guy definitely isn't normal.'

Annoyed, Hit complied, turning out his pockets and dropping the pack onto the desk. After a thorough inspection, the strict woman was somewhat satisfied, yet continued to rummage through his belongings, as if hoping to find something.

"This should speed things up". A metallic clang echoed as Hit placed a brass plaque on the desk, rather forcefully.

Giving him a tight look, Shakti picked up the object and read the inscription. "Are you a merchant, Hit? This is commonly used to identify traders." The officer was becoming more and more sceptical.

"No. It was given to me by my... personal doctor... as a gift. He said it would help me gain entry to the city." Hit decided he would keep the names of his two guardians to himself from now on.

"...Right." Shakti still was not completely convinced, yet there was no physical evidence to suggest that this Hit person was a criminal. 'Am I overreacting? I just can't shake this feeling of wrongness from him.'

Shakti pushed a small pile of documents towards Hit and handed him a pen. "Everything seems to be in order, Mr Hit. If you would be so kind as to sign these documents, you may pass".

.

..

…

Belongings gathered and documents signed, Hit handed the papers back to the officer and awaited her final verdict. The woman cast a brief glance over the forms and jogged them into a neat pile.

"Thank you, that will be all. Welcome to Orario, Mr Hit, I hope you have a pleasant stay. Please proceed through the door behind me." The commander voiced her rehearsed line, for the umpteenth time that day, and pointed Hit to the exit.

Hit inclined his head as confirmation, and finally breached into the great city, his dark boots clashing soundlessly across the granite floor.

After he was gone, Shakti quickly called a nearby guard. "Follow that man. If he does anything suspicious, let me, or another of your superiors, know".

The novice saluted his commander. "Yes, lady Varma!". The young man marched out of the room and went to hunt his quarry.