Watching Broly eat with such focus and satisfaction…
Watching him wobble across the beach while learning to walk, clumsily chasing the sea turtle…
Listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing while he slept…
Master Roshi suddenly realized that the island seemed to have gained a kind of liveliness and warmth he had never experienced before.
As a result, the plan to find an adoptive family for Broly was repeatedly postponed.
"Let's observe a little longer."
"Maybe we'll find a better family."
Using excuses like these, Roshi indefinitely delayed the matter.
And so—
Broly, the Legendary Super Saiyan, officially settled down in the home of Earth's God of Martial Arts.
Once he stayed—
More than ten years quietly passed like flowing water.
Age 749 of the Dragon Ball timeline.
Warm sunlight shone over the blue ocean and white sandy beach. A gentle sea breeze carried the fresh salty scent of the sea.
Inside Kame House, everything looked just as it had for many years.
Master Roshi sat cross-legged in front of the television.
His iconic oversized sunglasses rested on his nose, and he wore a colorful beach shirt while watching an aerobics program with full concentration.
On the screen, young and beautiful girls danced energetically.
Roshi's lips curved into his usual fascinated smile, with drool barely contained.
Outside on the beach, however, the scene was completely different.
Broly, now 17 years old, had long shed the childish look he once had.
He had grown into a tall young man with a powerful physique, well-defined muscles, and a handsome, heroic face.
His thick black hair hung loosely, giving him a naturally wild charm.
At this moment, Broly was performing what he treated almost like a sacred ritual—the most important activity of his day.
Eating.
Broly knelt neatly on a perfectly spread blue picnic mat, his posture meticulous.
In front of him were twenty-five plates, each polished clean and arranged carefully.
Every plate contained different food: perfectly grilled beast meat, fried fish, colorful vegetable salads, rice balls, and even several small dishes that appeared to be dipping sauces.
Meat and vegetables were balanced.
Colors were harmonized.
Even the spacing between the plates seemed precisely calculated.
The arrangement looked almost like a piece of art.
After carefully checking every plate to make sure nothing was out of place, Broly rubbed his hands together with satisfaction and picked up his utensils.
Then he began enjoying his feast—slowly and methodically, yet at an incredibly fast pace.
When Broly ate, he did so with complete focus, as if savoring the greatest pleasure in the world.
Each movement carried a strange elegance that didn't quite match his muscular build.
As for this dining ritual that Broly had practiced for years without fail—
Master Roshi had long gone from surprise, to complaints, to numb acceptance.
By now, he barely found it strange at all.
A strange harmony had formed between them.
Roshi watched his beautiful TV girls.
Broly enjoyed his ritualistic feast.
Neither interfered with the other.
This had become the unique and peaceful daily life on the island.
Still—
There was one small regret deep in Roshi's heart.
Broly had already grown into a seventeen-year-old young man.
Which meant…
He could no longer share the special "food" from his infancy.
(Note: In this story, Broly follows the Dragon Ball Super version, meaning he is the same age as Vegeta and older than Son Goku.)
Over the years, Roshi had naturally tried more than once to guide Broly onto the path of martial arts.
More than once he had said, in what he believed to be a persuasive tone:
"Broly, you've got an excellent physique. How about learning martial arts from me? It'll strengthen your body and make you powerful! Maybe someday you could even become Earth's guardian!"
But every time—
Broly refused without hesitation.
"No. Not interested."
Broly's greatest—and perhaps only—interest seemed to be eating.
After eating his fill, he would find a comfortable place to sleep.
After waking up, he would think about the next meal—and how to make it even more ceremonial.
Roshi often felt utterly speechless while watching Broly's increasingly muscular back.
Did I just raise a pig with obsessive-compulsive eating habits?
What Roshi didn't know, however, was this—
The adopted son who seemed to do nothing but eat, sleep, and avoid training had already allowed his power level to grow naturally over time.
It had quietly reached a terrifying height beyond anything Roshi could even imagine.
After all—
The growth of a Legendary Super Saiyan could never be measured by ordinary logic.
Not training…
Was itself a kind of training.
Just as Broly was enjoying the pleasure of his eighteenth plate of food—
Splash!
A sound came from the distant sea.
Moments later, a familiar figure crawled out of the water onto the beach, its voice trembling with excitement.
"Broly! This is wonderful! I finally… finally made it back!"
The sea turtle, who had been missing for more than a year, was now crying with joy.
Its voice choked with emotion, and even its shell showed the marks of hardship.
"Hm? Sea turtle?"
Broly lifted his head from his meal.
Seeing his old friend again, he smiled warmly and simply raised the half-eaten roasted beast leg in his hand.
"Have you eaten?"
"Not yet…" the turtle replied instinctively.
After traveling for so long, it was indeed starving.
"Oh."
Broly nodded calmly.
Then he pulled the roasted meat back toward himself protectively.
"These are all mine. You're not allowed to eat them."
Sea Turtle: "..."
The turtle's emotional reunion instantly turned into speechless frustration.
Then why did you ask me if I'd eaten?!
Was that just polite small talk?!
Deciding not to argue with this walking food monster, the turtle quickly crawled toward the house.
"Master Roshi! Master Roshi! I'm back!" it shouted excitedly.
But at that moment, Roshi was completely absorbed in the graceful dance of the girls on TV.
His eyes were dreamy, and drool threatened to appear again.
He casually waved his hand as if shooing away a fly.
"Yes, yes… I know… tell me later…"
Helpless, the turtle waited patiently beside him.
Only after the program ended and the words "Thank you for watching" appeared on the screen did Roshi reluctantly smack his lips, remove his sunglasses, and finally notice the turtle.
"Huh? Sea turtle? When did you get back?" Roshi asked casually.
"I thought some seafood restaurant had caught you and turned you into soup!"
"A child saved me!" the turtle said quickly, crawling closer.
It began telling the story of the past year, its voice full of gratitude.
"That child… now that I think about it—"
"He has a tail, just like Broly!"
"A child with a tail?"
Roshi paused slightly.
Now that had caught his interest.