Guided by his scouter, Kakarot traveled for several weeks to the north in search of three big power levels: 76, 98, and 120. The last two were higher than his, which had settled at 89 after defeating the Turtle Hermit. The three readings were close together, surrounded by around sixty others higher than average, but nothing special.
The mountainous region he trekked through reminded him of Mount Paozu, although it was way colder here. At noon, he stopped to eat. He took out the four-star Dragon Ball, which had turned to stone.
Upon hearing of the legend of the Dragon Balls, his first thought was to ask for immortality, but it soon became obvious that it would be a bad idea in the long run, and if he was to be immortal, the run would be long indeed.
Invulnerability to damage was his next idea, but fighting would become boring if he could win every fight by tiring out his opponents. Not to mention that it would be of no use against someone too strong for him, who could overpower and kill him through other means, like drowning him.
He had thought long about the issue before coming to the right answer. Kakarot may have killed Son Gohan and the Turtle Hermit, but they both had truly succumbed first to the same enemy: old age.
"Dragon, grant me eternal youth at the cusp of my physical growth," Kakarot had yelled in the desert.
"Your wish is granted," Shenron had answered, his red eyes glowing in the dark.
But truth be told, Kakarot didn't feel any different. Nor should he, he surmised. Only time would tell if the wish had taken effect.
Upon fulfilling his task, Shenron disappeared and the balls scattered around the world, but Kakarot managed to catch one. The radar no longer detected it, or any other. They had already granted other wishes in the past, so at some point they would return to their normal state. Kakarot lay on the ground and looked at the blue sky. If he could make another wish, what would it be?
Without reaching a conclusion, Kakarot resumed his journey and after a few hours, crowned some mountains and observed the valley they guarded. A village lay by the stream that crossed the valley, and beyond it, at the base of the mountains, spread a compound of low buildings surrounded by a stone wall. The scouter confirmed that the power levels he had been following were inside.
He climbed down the jagged peaks and delved into a secluded forest at the southern edge of the valley. He walked up to a clearing dominated by a huge tree. After making sure no one was around, he dug a hole between the thick roots and buried his belongings there. Where he was going, it would not be advisable to take the scouter, the radar, or the Dragon Ball; and the Power Pole would outright betray his relationship with the Turtle School.
Dressed in his old blue gi, Kakarot crossed the valley and the small village of farmers without paying them much attention. He stopped before the gates, over which a signboard proclaimed in carved letters that he was about to enter the Crane School.
Two young men with shaved heads and matching green uniforms blocked his way by crossing two spears in front of the door. "Get out of here, kid," one said. "This place isn't for the likes of you," taunted the other.
Kakarot ignored them and advanced.
The men cut him off, pointing the tips of their spears to his face. "Last warning, child." "Turn back or die."
Kakarot grabbed the spears and tore them from their hands. He whacked them several times and swept their legs. The guards babbled on the ground, half unconscious.
Kakarot tossed them their weapons back, opened the wooden doors, and entered. Dozens of shaved-headed young men trained in the large courtyard, fighting each other or against wooden dummies. They held weights in their hands with arms extended to the sides, hung upside down on a rope stretched over a small pond, and filled buckets next to their feet with a cup, lifting their bodies every time they added water to the bucket.
One after another, the young martial artists noticed his presence and stared at him. One of them approached. Seeing the door guards lying on the floor, he got on guard. "How dare you break into the Crane School uninvited?" The others joined in and surrounded him.
Kakarot did not look away from the first boy and remained silent.
"Kneel down and ask for mercy. If you do so, we may not kill you."
"I'd like to see you try," Kakarot said.
"Are you not only stupid but also blind? You are gravely outnumbered."
Kakarot rolled his shoulders and grinned. "Your numbers change nothing. Pigeons flock together, eagles fly alone."
They attacked him from all angles. Kakarot jumped and evaded them. The students crowded into the place he had been, falling on top of one another. Kakarot returned to land and faced them head-on. Whether it was one on one or several at the same time, the result didn't change. He left a wake of bruised ribs and skulls, injured arms and legs, screams, and cries. As he finished the last one, the doors of the main building slid open.
An old man stepped out. He had a long face, sunken cheeks, and light-gray hair swept upwards, resembling a bird's wings. A black hat ended on a crane's neck and head covered the top of his head. He wore a long green tunic with red lining and yellow sleeves; on the chest, it had embroidered the eastern character for Crane. The old man observed him through dark sunglasses and a smirk over the corners of his thin lips, where two spots of hair attempted and failed to be a mustache. "What brings you to the Crane School?"
"I am here to learn," Kakarot replied.
The man scanned the ground behind Kakarot, littered with battered, bruised, and broken students. "You are strong, child. That much is clear. But you remain a disappointment. The Crane School teaches the art of assassination, and even though you have had ample opportunity, you have made sure not to kill anyone. I doubt you have what it takes."
Kakarot, without breaking eye contact, grabbed the nearest student and broke his neck. "I assumed that killing your students would make it harder for me to join. I'm glad to see I was wrong."
The Crane Hermit smiled. "What is your name, child?"
"Kakarot."
The old man raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Two figures came forth. They both wore the same clothes as their master, but couldn't be more different from one another, and yet Kakarot sensed a bond between them.
The one at the Crane Hermit's left was shorter than Kakarot, his skin milk-white, save for two red spots on his cheeks. He had big, bug-like eyes and wore a black hat crowned by a small red round pom-pom.
The other, at his master's right, was tall and well-built. He had a third eye on the middle of his forehead. At first, Kakarot had thought it was painted, but then the eye moved, making the hairs on his tail bristle. The tall stranger's head was shaved like every other student's, and he wore a scowl on his face as naturally as if he had been born with it.
The Crane Hermit cleared his throat before speaking. "These are my two best students: Tenshinhan," he said, pointing a hand to the three-eyed one, "and Chiaotzu," pointing to the short one. "I wish to see how you would fare against them."
The old man was the master, so the 120 power level would be his. Tenshinhan, who seemed the stronger of the two disciples, would be the 98, and Chiaotzu the 76 one.
The Crane Hermit raised a finger. "For this match, killing is forbidden. Chiaotzu will go first."
Chiaotzu's feet came off the ground and he hovered forward until he stood in front of Kakarot, who adopted his fighting stance and waited for his opponent to do the same, but Chiaotzu remained motionless in the air.
"Begin," the Crane Hermit said.
Chiaotzu attacked at once. Kakarot backed off as he blocked a combination of punches and kicks coming from the air. He jumped up to put some distance between them, but Chiaotzu followed and kept pressing him, pushing him horizontally through the air.
After blocking most of the strange fighter's blows, Kakarot landed and got on guard again. Chiaotzu floated a meter above the ground in front of him. He was much weaker physically, but the ability to fly allowed him to attack in ways that Kakarot had not faced before.
As if that wasn't enough, he could not use any of his techniques, which would immediately reveal his ties to the Turtle School before its sworn enemies. In fact, using ki in any way would be a bad idea, as questions would arise as to how he had learned to use it. He only had his body and his cunning.
Still, Kakarot was strong enough to compensate for his handicaps, and in a few minutes had the small Earthling on the defense.
When the fight was all but decided, Chiaotzu flew up a few meters and raised a finger in front of his face. The unmistakable glow of ki illuminated his white face and tinged it with a golden light. From the heights, he extended his arm toward Kakarot. "Dodonpa!" he yelled, and a small, concentrated beam split the air in his direction.
Kakarot dodged it by very little, so much so that the smell of burnt hair immediately filled his nostrils. The beam hit the ground behind him and caused a small explosion, which sent chunks of earth flying everywhere. Without wasting a second, he dashed as fast as he could in all directions, spinning, bouncing, and zigzagging until his shape became blurred, and then completely vanished.
Chiaotzu fired several more ki attacks when he thought he'd seen him, but could only hit the afterimages Kakarot left behind. The Saiyan positioned himself just below and behind his opponent and jumped up. He spun in the air until he was face down and kicked Chiaotzu to the ground.
The small fighter stood up with difficulty and took off his dirtied tunic. Kakarot rushed to end the fight with another blow, but Chiaotzu raised his arms with spread fingers. Kakarot stopped short, but not of his own accord. He tried to move but discovered that he was nailed in place. No matter how hard he struggled, he remained unable to move a single part of his body. It seemed that this Earthling was full of surprises.
Kakarot simply waited for his opponent's attack, but it did not come. After a few moments, it became clear that Chiaotzu was using all his power to hold him still, and he had to remain so if he was to keep him in place. Kakarot needed to make him lose his concentration, even if it was only for a moment. That was all it would take.
"It seems a draw is all you can aspire to," Kakarot said. "But you'll get tired long before I do, you damn baldie."
Chiaotzu glared at him. "How dare you?" Slowly and wearily, he raised a hand to his head. The invisible grip to which Kakarot had been subjected was attenuated, although it still prevented him from attacking. He had to distract his attention further. Chiaotzu took off his hat, revealing a single squiggly hair on top of his otherwise bald head. "See, you ugly monkey? Never call me bald again."
"I'd rather be bald than have a single hair," Kakarot kept taunting. "That thing looks ridiculous."
"You look ridiculous! You are just jea—"
Kakarot knocked him down with a single punch to the chin and flexed his hands to check that he had full control of his body again. After a few seconds, Chiaotzu came to his senses, but he was no longer in fighting condition.
The Crane Hermit clapped with a smirk on his long, wrinkled face. "Very well done, Kakarot. You have forced my second best to use our school's signature move. And more impressive, you have overcome Chiaotzu's mental powers. But your next fight will not be so easy."
Tenshinhan walked down the stairs and put himself on guard. "Against the likes of you, I won't even have to take off my jacket."
Kakarot assumed his combat position in silence, as he knew his opponent was probably right. He decided that if he could not beat the older boy, he would at least make him swallow his words and take off his green tunic.
They lunged and clashed, exchanging blows, dodges and blocks. Tenshinhan had the advantage in power, but not a decisive one.
The three-eyed boy slammed him with a powerful double-hammer fist in the chest and pushed him back several meters. Kakarot rushed again, looking to adapt to his opponent's pace and find cracks in his defense that he could take advantage of. But Tenshinhan was a solid wall of ice. In fact, he was the one who anticipated Kakarot's moves.
The fight went on. Kakarot hadn't managed to land a single hit, while Tenshinhan had finished each exchange with a single hit, letting him know that the only reason he didn't end the fight was that he didn't wish to. After a long flurry of kicks, which Tenshinhan dodged with his eyes closed, the three-eyed boy hit him with a palm strike and sent him back again.
"Have you had enough, or do you want to keep checking how inferior you are?" Tenshinhan said with a grin.
Kakarot spat on the ground at his side and used the Afterimage Technique that had proven so useful against Chiaotzu. Tenshinhan remained unshaken as Kakarot drew swift lines in the air around him and left mocking images in his wake.
Tenshinhan kicked to the side and intercepted Kakarot, who was moving so fast he couldn't dodge. The older boy returned his long leg to the ground. "You are fast, I give you that. But you can't fool my three eyes."
Damn bastard! Thought Kakarot. He has me dead to rights, and he hasn't even broken a sweat.
"Fighting you is becoming boring fast. I'll let you see a glimpse of my full strength," Tenshinhan said, then crossed the space between them in half a heartbeat and struck him hard in the pit of the stomach.
Kakarot fell to his knees, vision blurry, lungs emptied, and desperate for air.
"Do not fret, boy. It was impossible for you to defeat Tenshinhan, who has received my training since childhood," the Crane Hermit said.
Kakarot stood up, still short of breath, but managed to overcome the pain and humiliation of such a complete defeat. He bowed before the Crane Hermit. "Will you accept me as a pupil?"
The old man kept silent and fingered his short mustaches before speaking. "You have demonstrated strength, intelligence, and murderous intent; everything necessary to succeed as an assassin. Eat your fill and sleep well, for tomorrow you will wake up to the harshest training of your life."