The travel back to Odani was quieter than the journey out. The image of Rui Quarrier—the boy who would eventually redefine the meaning of power on Gaia—was burned into Merun's retinas.
It felt like he had just seen the first frame of a movie he had already memorized, but in high definition.
As they landed on the outskirts of the village, Merun set Iro down. She smoothed out her robes, her usual professional mask slipping into a tired but satisfied smile.
"So," she said, looking toward the horizon. "First time abroad. What did you think of the Kandrian Empire compared to our rugged little corner of Sekigahara?"
Merun looked away, his mind flashing back to the rickshaw. "It was... impactful. More than I expected. The scale of everything—the infrastructure, the way the world moves there—it makes Sekigahara feel like a backyard."
"It does have that effect," Iro laughed, misinterpreting his heavy tone for simple awe.
"But don't let the shiny stones fool you. The shadows are just as dark there as they are here. Anyway, I have reports to file and 'vessels' to coordinate. Welcome to the Beggar Sect, Merun. Officially this time."
"Thanks, Iro. For everything."
She gave him a playful salute and vanished into the huts. Merun didn't head home immediately. Instead, he walked toward the cliffs overlooking the ocean.
Merun sat on the edge of the jagged rock, the salt spray cooling his skin. He had a problem. He knew the future—or at least, a future.
Should I help him? he wondered.
If I went to the Academy, I could train with Rui. I could prevent his tragedies. I could give him each step he took in the future to streamline his growth.
But then he remembered the nature of Martial Paths. In the original novel, Rui's path was forged in the fires of absolute desperation. If Merun interfered, if he made Rui's life "easier," he might accidentally erase the "Antithesis" entirely.
A happy, well-adjusted Rui might never become the monster needed to kill the final boss.
The Butterfly Effect is a nightmare, Merun thought, scuffing his heel against the stone.
My presence in Sekigahara is already a massive deviation. But Kandria? Kandria is Rui's story. I have to let it play out. I'll just be a fan watching from the front row for now.
It was a strange feeling—being starstruck by a kid who was currently weaker than a Saibaman. But the weight of what that kid would become made Merun feel like a tiny part of a much larger machine.
———
Merun found Bankei exactly where the Sect agents said he would be: tucked away in a hidden mountain pass where a frigid, violent waterfall hammered against the rocks.
The old doctor was sitting in the middle of the torrent, his legs crossed in a meditative "Indian seat." The water hit his shoulders with enough force to crush a normal man, but Bankei remained as still as a statue.
Until Merun heard the rhythm.
Snore. Whistle. Snore.
"Old man, why the heck are you sleeping like that?" Merun shouted over the roar of the water.
Bankei's eyes snapped open. He didn't jump; he just exhaled, a small smile touching his lips as he saw the boy. "I haven't had a proper sleep—or a shower—in years, Merun. It's good to see you."
Merun laughed, pulling off his shirt and stepping into the icy spray. He sat down beside the doctor, gritting his teeth as the weight of the water slammed into his Saiyan frame. "Wow... this is actually like a high-pressure massage."
"Right?" Bankei said blissfully, closing his eyes again. "I feel like my old bones are being rejuvenated. It makes me sleepy just thinking about it."
Merun's smile faded slightly.
He stared into the white foam at their feet. "Bankei, I need to talk to you about something."
Bankei opened one eye, sensing the shift in the air. He didn't say a word, waiting for Merun to find the right path.
"Have you heard?" Merun asked, his voice low. "About what happened to the others? The prisoners from Shinken?"
Bankei's posture didn't change, but his tone became heavy with sorrow. "I have."
A long silence followed, broken only by the thunder of the falls. Merun could feel his own ki beginning to boil. The rage he had suppressed in the hut with the Sage was leaking out, turning the air around them hot and humid.
"You can be angry, Merun," Bankei said softly. "No one is stopping you. You must let that out."
Merun opened his mouth to snap back—to rail against the injustice of a Sect member killing the very people he had bled to save, the very people he gave hope to and promised safety—but Bankei cut him off.
"But acting upon it is what makes a difference," the doctor continued. "I spent decades as a healer. Do you know how many times I've failed? How many times I gave a man hope, told him he would see his children again, only for him to die under my hands an hour later?"
Bankei looked at his weathered palms. "I used to ask myself: Should I have even tried? If the wounds were unsalvageable, was I a monster for giving them hope before the end? But I realized that hope, even for a fleeting second, is the only thing that separates us from the dirt. You gave those men hope. You gave them a chance to die as free men rather than lab rats. That is a victory, even if it feels like a defeat."
Merun's anger didn't disappear, but it shifted. It became a cold, contained weight in his chest. "I should have been faster. I should have stayed with them."
"You cannot be everywhere, Merun. You are a warrior, not a god. Learn from the pain, but do not let it drown you like this waterfall."
Merun exhaled, the heat around him dissipating. "I'm going to go meet the survivors later. And the graves."
"Good," Bankei nodded. He stood up, the water sheeting off his muscular, scarred back. "I'll be joining you soon, in a way. I've decided to talk to the Beggar Sage about joining the Sect."
Merun's eyes widened. "You're joining? Seriously?"
"I like their philosophy," Bankei said with a shrug. "They look for the gaps in the world. As a doctor, I've always lived in those gaps."
Merun watched him, stunned.
In the original story, they must have failed to rescue Bankei, he realized. No sane martial artist would have raided Ise... or maybe some insane ones did and became extra bodies for experimentation. My intervention changed Bankei's destiny completely.
"I'm glad you're doing well, Bankei," Merun said, standing up and reaching for his shirt. He shook the excess water from his hair. "I'll go meet the Shinken survivors now. Take care of yourself. And tell Iro if you need me, alright?"
Bankei didn't answer with words. He just waved a hand in lazy dismissal and sat back down, adjusting his posture into a steady Indian seat. He closed his eyes in bliss, leaning his head back into the thundering curtain of water as he prepared to drift off.
Merun nodded, centered his ki, and vanished in a sudden blur of speed that kicked up a cloud of mist.
The old doctor sat in silence for a few seconds, the roar of the falls lulling him toward a deep slumber.
Then, his eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright, splashing water everywhere as he realized he'd forgotten the one thing that had been gnawing at his professional curiosity.
"Ah! Wait!" Bankei shouted, lunging forward. "Merun! Tell me about Master Roshi! About that transformation! The giant—!"
He stopped, scanning the empty mountain pass. The only response was the distant, fading whistle of wind from Merun's flight and the indifferent crash of the waterfall. Merun was long gone.
Bankei stared at the empty space for a moment, then let out a long, weary sigh. A small, amused smile tugged at his lips.
"...Well, there's always a next time," he muttered to himself.
He settled back onto his rock, found his balance once more, and slowly drifted into a well-earned sleep under the raging cold.
The world was changing. The protagonist was on his way to school, a dead doctor was now a living spy, and a Saiyan was finally beginning to understand that some battles couldn't be won with a power level.