"Hello" Normal Conversation
'Hello' Personal Thinking
[Hello] System Talking
{Hello} Author Speaking
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Year 738, 5th May
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Third Person POV
The wooden floors of the Senshi Dojo creaked softly under the weight of Kenji Senshi as he stood at the center, arms crossed, observing his son with a solemn expression. The dojo, once filled with students eager to learn the way of the fist, now stood nearly empty, its air thick with the scent of aged wood and incense.
Before him, Akito Senshi held a bundled infant in his arms, his face tense with guilt and hesitation. The dim light from the paper lanterns cast long shadows, emphasizing the weight of the decision he was making.
"Father," Akito began, his voice strained, "we can't take care of this baby. Mikoto lost her job, and things have been difficult. We already have a child, and I need to start saving for his college." He exhaled deeply before looking his father in the eye. "This is 20,000 Zeni. I know it's not enough, but it's the best I can do."
Kenji remained silent, his gaze drifting to the sleeping infant wrapped in a soft, but slightly worn, cloth. The child's tiny hands twitch in sleep, unaware of the conversation that would decide his fate.
Akito extended the baby toward his father, the gesture almost pleading. "Please, Father. You're the only one I can turn to."
Kenji's fingers tightened around his forearms as he studied his son. Akito was a good man, a responsible father but this? This was a choice Kenji never thought his son would have to make. He glanced down at the baby once more, the child's faint breath rhythmic and calm, as if trusting the world would take care of him.
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his years, Kenji reached out and took the child into his arms. The baby stirred slightly, making a soft cooing sound before settling against Kenji's chest.
Akito bowed his head. "Thank you, Father."
Kenji looked down at the baby, his hardened features softening. "What is his name?"
Akito hesitated. "We… we never gave him one."
Kenji nodded, his grip on the child firm but gentle. "Then he shall be Shinzo Senshi from this day forward. A martial artist in this family."
The dojo, once silent, seemed to echo with a new presence a life just beginning in the hands of an aging master.
Shinzo POV
Wait, hold on what is happening here? Who are they? Wait… who am I?!
[System activated]
[Host's important memories of this world have been successfully retrieved]
Before Shinzo could fully process what was going on, an overwhelming drowsiness overtook him. His small body felt heavier, and before he could resist, he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up again, something clicked. Images, memories—anime, specifically Dragon Ball, filled his mind.
"No way… Don't tell me I have reincarnated in the Dragon Ball world."
[Yes, Host. You are correct.]
Shinzo's thoughts raced. OH MY GOD! I am doomed! It is over!
[System, am I a Saiyan or any kind of alien?]
[No, Host. You are a human being.]
Everything is over now. His heart sank. Wait… I have a system. System, tell me about your OP functions!
[Host, I am a training system, and I have the following functions:]
[Training Optimization, Creation of Techniques, Replication of Techniques]
"...That's it?"
[Yes, these are all the functions available with the system.]
Shinzo was silent for a moment. Then, a deep sigh escaped his tiny lungs. The only way to survive now is to work hard… or make a wish with the Dragon Balls.
[Host is warned that your knowledge of the future cannot be shared or used in such a way that would bring you under scrutiny of higher-level beings.]
[For example, you should not know about Saiyans, so you cannot wish for Saiyan physiology.]
Shinzo groaned internally. "Alright, I understand. System, can you tell me where I am in the timeline?"
[Host, you are in Age 738. You have 11 years before the plot begins.]
Alright, that's at least some breathing room. "System, create a training plan!"
[Host is currently a five month old child. Optimizing training plans...]
"Damn it! It can create a training plan for such an early stage as well!"
Kenji POV
Kenji sat in the quiet dojo that night, the baby his grandson sleeping peacefully in a makeshift crib. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of his emotions settle over him.
He was disappointed. Not in Akito, but in the cruel reality that forced his son into this decision. Akito had been a promising martial artist yet he had chosen a different path. The Senshi family had been warriors for generations, adapting from battlefields to dojos, ensuring their legacy lived on through teaching. He himself was the 14th generation that tradition had nearly ended.
But fate had different plans.
Kenji glanced at the sleeping child. This boy Shinzo Senshi would carry their legacy forward. His blood ran with the strength of warriors, just like Akito's. Even though his son had chosen another life, his grandson would take up the path of a martial artist. The dojo would not fall into silence. The Senshi name would not fade.
A small smile formed on his lips. "You will be strong, little one. Stronger than all of us."
The next day, Kenji discussed his situation with his friends in the village. They listened, nodding in understanding as he explained his age and the difficulty of raising a child alone. To his surprise, they offered their support without hesitation.
"We'll help, Kenji" one of them said. "Besides you've taught many of our children. Let us return the favor."
Kenji felt an unfamiliar relief wash over him. His worries eased as he realized he wasn't alone in this responsibility. With their help, raising Shinzo won't too much of a hassle.
With renewed determination, Kenji stood in the dojo, watching as the sun cast its morning light over the wooden floors. The Senshi legacy would continue. His grandson would rise, and one day, the world would know his name.