“Huh? What’s that?” 

Piccolo allowed himself a cruel grin and pointed. “150!” 

The sudden change in weight caused Hokuto to flare up to compensate and-- slowly-- they straightened up. “... You heard about my little stunt from Bra, huh?” 

[You find yourself interrupted by a sudden change in intuition. Someone’s coming?]

[... Who is that? It’s familiar, but you don’t think you’ve met anyone who casually runs around at that power in the area?] 

[It’s... In the back of your mind or something.] 

[So you put your pencil down, get on your weighted stuff, and start running through forms.] 

[You pause and feel the two beans in the belt pocket.] 

“Now you listen to me. There’s two things I need to tell you before you go there. First, don’t let your teachers know you have these. They know the rules-- if they want the senzu, they can climb the tower themselves. And second-- These are only for emergencies. Don’t waste them. Each one is food for ten days. Now I don’t anticipate that you’re going to need food for twenty days, nor travel for twenty dats, and you’re pretty resourceful, but if it’s a choice between starving and having one, eat the damn bean.” 

Hokuto nodded. She closed her hands around them and put them in the pocket of her weighted clothes. 

Korin nodded. “Right. That about covers it. Be careful with those, OK? Don’t lose them.” 

Today, apparently, was weight room. Hokuto was familiar with the environment. They also knew damned well that they would be hauling over 75 kilos quite some distance later to get to the Satan Gym on time, so they decided to take it easy on the machines and practice their breathing. In, raise ki as hard as you can, out, fold as deep as possible. In, out. In, out. In--

As you increase the speed at which you can control your ki, your ability to improvise and improve becomes greater. Make it move faster than you can think! 

Now, reverse the rhythm! ... Reverse it again!

Hokuto’s concentration was suddenly broken by someone poking them. “Hey, why don’t you let someone who actually needs this machine use it?” 

Hokuto had seen him, and his buddies, over at the rack, generally grunting and whooping. All well and good! The Self-Improvement Club was like that sometimes-- after all, people generally don’t get better if you keep grinding them into the dirt. But now? 

They sat up. “You think you can lift more than me?” 

“Pfft, yeah. Your flabby ass can barely lift yourself out of bed.” 

The careful bubble of Hokuto’s fold popped all at once. “You know what? Prove it.” 

“what?” 

“Prove it, let’s go. The rack, right now. Let’s see how much you can squat, genius.” Hokuto grit his teeth. 

It was two minutes later. There was a crowd. Hokuto had thought the guy was a jock, but instead he was just incredibly popular. He wished he regretted it, but instead he was just getting even more angry. 

40 kilos? This guy dragged him off the leg press for 12 reps of forty kilos on the bar.

Hokuto’s fist didn’t shake, but his eyes seemed to flash as he looked to a random member of the crowd. “You. Double it.” 

His friends laughed at that. “Aw, come on.” 

“You can’t lift, don’t act like--” 

“Double it,” he interrupted. There were a few snickers, heralds of humiliation. Hokuto walked up to the bar, rolled his neck, took a deep breath, and started. 

... 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. Hokuto set the bar back in its place on the rail. One fist pump. He walked back to-- Oh, what was his name, CT? Something like that. The fear and respect was in the boy’s eyes. 

Hokuto smiled, just a little. “We done?” 

CT nodded. 

Hokuto nodded. “Good talk.” 

“Chin!” 

Well. “free”. It was contingent, after reading all the paperwork, on Hokuto joining the Satan gym. Oddly, even then, the place wasn’t packed. They supposed that it was the controversies surrounding Groundbreaking Science so far that were responsible for that. The diehards stayed, some people curious about ki came in, a lot of people who were working within the PFN originally left when 1.10 came out. 

All in all, though, it wasn’t too hard to settle back into education, although the dress code was much more lax than back at West City. I guess when you have to have two of talent, connections, and money, uniforms seems like a bit much to add on to enforcement.

Still, shouldn’t be too too hard. Professor Son ended up fitting in OK, and if the account in 1.10 was correct he was probably the most powerful being on the planet at the time. That had to be somewhere in the sevens or eights, right? Hokuto was barely a 2.3. Sure, that was... ten to a hundred times stronger than anyone else, and they were hauling twice their weight to and from class, but schools were built out of sterner stuff than Hokuto cared to admit. 

They were woken out of their reverie by someone trying to pick up their backpack. “The... hell is this thing made out of, Chin? Lead?” 

“Huh? Oh, nah, I just have a few weights in the bottom is all. I don’t have a lot of time for exercise, and I heard weighting things down helps keep you in shape.” Hokuto rifled through it. 

“... What kind of shape, round...?” 

“What do you need?” Hokuto continued, as if they hadn’t just heard that. 

“Uh-- J. Just a pencil?” 

“Mmm, you should really keep better track of your things.” Hokuto reached into the front pocket and pulled out a pencil. 

[Or maybe it’s just that you can tell what they’re feeling? With a few bits of advice here and there, it’s not hard to figure dogs out. Nor cats, for that matter.]

[The pay’s pretty good, too. You won’t have to worry about rent or food for a good, long while.] 

Now came the hard part-- trying to find, and identify, the local high powers, and even worse, try to remember which one was supposed to be Hokuto’s teacher. 

A shame, she’d actually really wanted to try out that new tunic. 

Hokuto paused. Blinked. Rubbed their eyes under their glasses. 

“It’s not like I can wear the training clothes right now, anyway. They might be water-resistant but I soaked them through to wash them and they were only hung up to dry last night. Take the rest you’ve given yourself, buddy.”  

For the first time in a while they looked at themselves in a genuine mirror. 

On the surface, Chin Hokuto was the normal, bumbling sort they’d always been. Sure, now they looked like a bumbling jock, instead of some ludicrous nerd, but the overall effect-- without a way to sense ki-- was of someone well-meaning, but a little bit dim and a little bit sickly. 

That suited Chin just fine, though now it was suddenly annoying that one cannot sense one’s own ki by looking in a mirror!

Still, best to go get things done. 

... Chin realized they’d been extremely lucky. It’s not like everyone could actually make friends like they had. 

Speaking of, they should... probably tell Occultbu that they were alive and had a lot to tell. And Bra. 

Tonta wasn’t exactly a stranger to being in jail. He’d been up on robbery, petty theft, grand theft-- basically everything short of general banditry had given him a string of charges long as his arm. 

He’d plead guilty to the charge of greivous bodilty harm and the judge had given him six years. 

Six years! In a prison. It was supposed to be a punishment. 

But Tonta knew prison. He knew intent. Even before he learned how to read ki, he knew how to read people. With the added layer, well. 

It was no big trouble to find the guy who thought he’d be easy to make into meat, and serve him a notice. Tonta was to be respected. 

But as for joining a prison gang? No, that wasn’t his plan either. 

Would that get him in a lot of trouble with other prisoners? Yes, yes it would. 

Just as planned. 

Six years, maybe more, in a crucible of his own making. He would refine out his impurities. Become stronger even as he made other prisoners stronger.