Kumokiri turned her bright gold eyes toward Chi-Chi. The young fighter still had her mouth hanging wide open in pure shock.
"I get it, you're lost. Not surprising. This is the only place I can bother having a body. Anywhere else? I'm just a voice rattling inside steel. The air up here… it's thick with divine energy. Heavy. Dense enough to give something like me form. In other words—this place lets me exist properly. Lucky you."
"You were listening to everything."
"I'm your weapon. Obviously. I've been right there the whole time—since the moment you first picked me up. Heard everything, too. But relax… I'm not the type to spread your embarrassing little secrets."
Goku barked a loud laugh. He pointed a dirty finger right at the tall sword spirit.
"I really like her. She looks funny, and mean."
A faint chuckle slipped from the spirit, low and amused, like he'd just been handed a line too easy to ignore.
"Funny and mean, huh? That's a bold review..."
She locked her gaze on Mr. Popo. The dark attendant stood perfectly still on the white tiles.
"You're not wrong… but wow, you really love the sound of your own riddles, don't you? My wielder? She's human. Flesh, blood, dirt under her nails. She doesn't need sermons dressed up as poetry. She fights. She learns. That's enough. She's not your disciple."
Mr. Popo blinked his large eyes slowly. He looked at the tall silver haired woman.
"She cannot hit this target with her fists. She must figure out how to stop fighting herself. That is the entire point of the test."
Chi-Chi clenched her hands into tight fists. She hated being talked about like she was not even standing right there.
"I can figure it out." Chi-Chi stepped forward. She looked right at her physical sword.
"I beat my own shadows down below. I can clear my head up here too. I just need to know the rules."
"Then don't just stand there—prove it. Clear that cluttered head of yours and just follow his lead. Try not to overthink it… you might actually get it right."
Kumokiri challenged her.
Chi-Chi let out a long, slow breath. She looked at Kumokiri, then at Mr. Popo, and finally closed her eyes.
She needed to quiet the noise.
She needed to stop wanting to hit something. S
he visualized the calm pond Popo talked about. A single drop of water.
Stillness.
WHAM!
A brutal, crushing force slammed into her left cheek.
The impact spun her around.
Chi-Chi stumbled backward, her boots scuffing violently against the white tiles.
Her eyes snapped open, watering instantly from the sharp pain. She clamped a hand over her stinging face, her vision swimming for a second.
Standing right in front of her, knuckles still clenched, was Kumokiri.
"W-What is wrong with you?!" Chi-Chi screamed. Her voice was pure shock and anger. The sudden betrayal stung worse than the punch.
"Why did you do that? I thought you were on my side!"
The silver-haired sword spirit did not look sorry at all. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh and crossed her arms over her chest. A smirk touched her lips.
Kumokiri turned her golden eyes toward the dark attendant.
"That whole philosophy of yours? Yeah… not as clever as you think, Mr. Popo." Kumokiri announced, her tone full of mockery.
Mr. Popo let out a long, heavy sigh.
He dropped his round head and rubbed his forehead with his thick, dark fingers. He looked older and more tired than before.
"I will be entirely honest with you, spirit. I was much happier when you were just inanimate steel."
A low, resonant voice echoed from the shadows of the main temple, vibrating through the white stone tiles of the plaza.
"My sanctuary has been graced with many unexpected guests today. It has been a long time since this much noise filled the air."
Every head turned toward the dark arched doorway.
A tall, thin figure leaned on a heavy wooden staff as he stepped into the light. He wore flowing white robes and a blue weighted cape.
His skin was the color of moss, and his face was lined with deep, ancient wrinkles. Two long antennae twitched on his forehead.
Goku's eyes nearly popped out of his head. His pupils shrunk to tiny black dots.
"Piccolo!" Goku screamed.
He didn't hesitate. He kicked off the ground with a crack of stone, his fist cocked back and glowing with desperate ki. He was a blur of orange aiming straight for the old man's throat.
He never reached his target.
Kumokiri moved with a casual, fluid grace that didn't even seem like fighting. She didn't look at Goku.
She didn't even shift her stance. She simply reached out a hand behind her back and snagged the tip of his brown tail between two fingers.
"Easy there, short-stack," Kumokiri said. She leaned her head back and let out a bored, airy laugh, her silver hair shimmering in the sun. She looked down at him with a cocky, half-lidded smirk, exuding the same effortless arrogance as a master who knew they were untouchable.
"Hold your horses. You're about to punch the host."
Goku groaned into the tiles, his voice muffled.
"But he looks just like the demon..."
"That isn't your monster, kid. That is Kami-sama."
Chi-Chi stood frozen, her eyes darting between the newcomer and the spirit of her sword.
The resemblance was terrifying, but the energy was different. Where Piccolo felt like a scorching desert fire, this man felt like a deep, silent well.
"It seems the storm has developed a mouth."
Kumokiri didn't bow. She just gave him a lazy two-finger salute.
"And it seems the sky has grown even older."
Kami stepped toward the center of the plaza. He looked down at Goku, who was still sprawled out on the tiles, then turned his ancient, pale eyes toward Chi-Chi.
"The demon you killed was the rot that I cut from my own soul long ago. We are two halves of a broken whole. When you struck him down, I felt the blow in my own chest."
"Then you already understand why we came. He said he killed Shenron—boasted about it in the middle of our fight. If you're the one who created the Dragon Balls, then you can restore them. Do it."
Kami sighed, a long and weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. He looked up at the vast, empty blue of the sky.
"The model I carved with my own hands was shattered. Usually, when the creation is destroyed, it is a sign that humanity is not yet ready for such power. Perhaps it is better this way."
Goku scrambled to his feet, his tail twitching with sudden agitation.
"Better? My friends are dead! Master Roshi, Krillin, even Chi-Chi's dad! They didn't do anything wrong. They died protecting the world from your other half!"
The old man flinched slightly at the boy's blunt words. He looked at the two young warriors—covered in dust, smelling of ozone and blood, yet standing tall in the home of a god.
Kumokiri let out a sharp, mocking whistle. She leaned against a nearby pillar, buffing her fingernails against her blue tunic.
"Oh, look at that… the old man's playing martyr again."
Chi-Chi ignored the sword's teasing. She dropped to one knee and bowed her head low, her forehead nearly touching the white tiles.
"Please… I didn't come this far for power. I didn't defeat Piccolo for glory. I only want my family back. If there's a trial, I'll face it. If there's a cost, I'll bear it. Just… give them a chance to live again."
Kami stared at the top of her head for a long time. The silence on the lookout was absolute. Finally, he reached out his withered hand and rested it gently on her head.
"I see through your intentions now, child. Forgive my lapse in judgment. You faced King Piccolo and emerged victorious… as a token of my gratitude, I shall grant your wish."
Kami turned his head slightly toward the dark attendant.
"Popo, bring it to me."
"As you wish, Kami."
Mr. Popo disappeared into the temple and returned a moment later carrying a clear glass sphere. Resting inside on a bright blue surface were the broken stone pieces of a dragon statue. The cold grey chunks looked like a ruined toy.
"I hadn't realized it was so severely damaged… Popo, can you restore it?"
"Popo can fix him."
Chi-Chi and Goku leaned in, their eyes wide with anticipation. They expected a divine ritual—incantations, celestial light, or a surge of godly ki. Instead, Popo simply sat on the white tiles. He opened the pot and carefully put glue on the broken edges of the stone pieces.
"Is that... glue? He's just sticking it back together?"
"I expected a bit more... magic."
Kumokiri let out a sharp, barking laugh from her spot against the pillar.
"Welcome to the divine realm, kids."
Kami stepped forward and held his hand over the glued model.
"Stand back, please."
A brilliant spark leapt from his fingertip and sank into the object.
It shuddered—then began to hum.
The dull gray surface bled into a radiant gold, its eyes igniting in a fierce crimson glow. The small figure writhed, its form twisting as it rapidly expanded beyond its limits.
In a blinding flash, Shenron erupted into existence, his colossal body coiling high above the plaza.
The giant beast roared once.
His huge body then dissolved into a streak of bright golden energy. The light shot straight up and vanished past the clouds.
"W-Where did he go?" Goku asked. He stared up at the empty sky.
Chi-Chi watched the same spot.
"Is he running away?"
"He is searching for the Dragon balls. Normally they turn to plain rock and scatter across the world. They must rest for a full year before anyone can summon him again."
"So we have to wait a whole year?"
"No, you both saved this planet. I will make an exception just for you. The items will be active and ready to use the moment he returns to them."
Kumokiri pushed off the pillar. She walked over to the group, looking down at the tiny, hissing dragon with a bored expression.
"Don't worry about the legwork, while you two were busy staring at glue, I sent a little mental nudge down the tower. Your friends are already moving. Let's see… Bulma, Yamcha, and Tienshinhan, right?"
Chi-Chi looked at her sword-turned-woman with a mix of gratitude and suspicion.
"Wait, you can do that?"
Kumokiri smirked, leaning in close to Chi-Chi's face with a playful wink.
"Yeah, yeah… sorry for keeping that little detail from you. But hey, I did use it to talk to you while Piccolo was beating the hell out of you, so you're welcome. Up here, I can reach anyone on Earth. Telepathy, no limits."
A beat. Then a wider smirk.
"Pretty cool, right?"
Chi-Chi stared at the tall woman. She crossed her arms over her blue gi.
"That is true. You did speak to me. But you are acting completely different right now."
"Is that a complaint?"
"It is an observation. When we talked inside my head you acted like a serious god. You were entirely formal and scary. You sounded ancient. Standing out here you are just incredibly loose."
"I know, I know—looks bad, right?" She let out a small sigh, like he'd had this conversation a hundred times.
"But try to see it from my side, kid. When I meet a beginner, I don't get to be friendly. I have to be strict… a little intimidating. If I start off all relaxed, some weakling's gonna treat the blade like a toy. So I push first. See what they're made of."
A brief pause, then a quieter edge to her voice.
"Call it testing the waters."
She dropped her arms and looked Chi-Chi up and down. The arrogant confidence poured off her.
"But then I watched you fight… And yeah—you're the real deal. You didn't crack. Not even under that kind of pressure. Once I realized you weren't just another lightweight…"
She shrugged, the tension in her posture fading completely.
"I figured I could finally drop the act and just be myself."
Chi-Chi let out a short breath.
She found the absolute arrogance slightly annoying but she could not argue with the logic.
A dry cough echoed across the white tiles.
Kami cleared his throat and stepped closer to the group.
The casual mood vanished instantly.
"Now that the dragon is handled and explanations are finished, I need to ask a huge favor from both of you."
Goku stopped bouncing on his heels. Chi-Chi turned away from the tall sword spirit. They both gave the old Guardian their complete attention.
"As I mentioned earlier, the demon and I are two halves of the same soul. We are bound by a very deep and ancient magic. We share a direct life link. If one of us dies the other perishes at the exact same second."
Chi-Chi looked right at the green skin and the deep wrinkles of the man standing in front of her.
Her blood ran entirely cold.
Kami was standing right there.
Kami was breathing.
If Kami was still alive then King Piccolo was not dead.