In the silent, star-strewn void, Rhode's destination after leaving Earth was not a battlefield, but a library of a different kind. He reappeared on the vibrant green plains of Namek.
His goal was not yet the Grand Elder or the Dragon Balls. It was language. To converse with Porunga without filter, to ensure the nuance of his questions and the precision of the answers were not lost in translation, he needed to speak the tongue of the Namekians themselves.
For a mind sharpened by Yardratian mental discipline and Saiyan adaptive learning, the complex, flowing language of Namek was not a wall, but a puzzle to be solved. Within a surprisingly short time, he could hold fluent, if not poetic, conversations with the peaceful villagers.
Only then did he seek an audience with the Grand Elder. His request was met with the ancient Namekian's weary but perceptive gaze. After a long moment, the Elder nodded. The Great Elder had seen the discipline in Rhode's spirit, the absence of wanton malice. The Dragon Balls were tools for hope, and this strange Saiyan's hope seemed geared toward understanding, not domination.
Gathering the seven orbs was a trivial task for one who could sense their energy and cross continents in an instant. Soon, he stood before them on a windswept plateau.
"COME FORTH, PORUNGA! AND GRANT MY WISH!" he called out in flawless, resonant Namekian.
Day became night. The dragon balls erupted with emerald light, and the colossal form of the Eternal Dragon, Porunga, coalesced before him, his presence dwarfing the landscape.
"O gatherer of the Dragon Balls," Porunga's voice boomed, shaking the very air. "Speak your wish. I can grant you three."
Rhode met the dragon's glowing red eyes, his plan clear. "Porunga," he began, his voice steady. "Grant me a cultivation method. A path that would allow an ordinary being to ascend, through training alone, to surpass a God of Destruction, even an Angel, and in doing so, achieve true immortality."
He waited, hopeful. A complete, pre-existing road to the pinnacle of existence would shortcut centuries of his own research.
Porunga was silent. The great dragon seemed to stare into a cosmic middle distance. A divine cultivation method? If such a thing existed, do you not think I would be using it? The dragon's internal monologue was a mix of exasperation and cosmic fatigue. Why is it always this one? Does he enjoy finding the edges of my power just to highlight them?
"This wish… cannot be granted," Porunga intoned finally, his voice carrying a hint of long-suffering finality.
"Understood," Rhode said, unperturbed. It had been a long shot. "Then, a method to cultivate from an ordinary being to the level of a God."
"This wish also cannot be granted."
Hmm? Rhode's aura flickered, not as an attack, but as a subtle pressure, a reminder of the power of the one making the request. It was a question asked with energy.
Sensing the unspoken prompt, Porunga elaborated, his tone shifting to one of explanation. "Godhood is not a state achieved solely through cultivation. Mortals may attain divine power—realm of the gods—through training, but to hold a divine office requires selection, candidacy, and inheritance of a specific position. This is a matter of cosmic law, beyond my jurisdiction to alter or bestow."
Rhode nodded slowly. Just as I suspected. Goku had touched the realm of the gods, wielded divine ki, but remained a mortal Saiyan. The system was rigid. A shortcut to official godhood didn't exist.
So much for the easy path.
"Then," Rhode said, pulling out a compact recording device and activating it, "please list for me all known methods—within your power to reveal—that can significantly extend lifespan and preserve youth."
A wave of what might have been relief seemed to pass through the colossal dragon. "This wish is simple."
"First: by wishing upon the Eternal Dragon, one may be granted unending life directly."
Rhode noted it. The baseline option. A backup plan, pending investigation into potential metaphysical side-effects.
"Second: change your race. The cosmos teems with species possessing lifespans spanning millennia, or whose biology arrests aging at its prime."
Rhode mentally filed away the race-change option. It was a solution, but a crude one, stripping away his Saiyan biology—the very source of his adaptive power and potential. A last resort.
"Third: Master magic. Among the arcane arts, many incantations exist to extend life and preserve youthful vigor."
Magic. Rhode's interest sharpened. The Demon Realm, the enigmatic wizards like Babidi, even the odd spells used by fighters like Piccolo—this was a tangible, learnable path. It had high feasibility.
"Fourth: Physical modification. Through arcane or technological means, altering one's bloodline, cellular structure, or genetic code can achieve lifespan extension. Maintaining youth is a simpler matter within this paradigm."
Cyborgs. The androids, 17 and 18, were perfect examples. Human base, granted eternal youth and near-immortality through Dr. Gero's science. Another viable, if invasive, path.
"Fifth:..."
"Sixth:..."
"Seventh:..."
Porunga, perhaps relieved to be on solid ground, became a veritable fountain of information. Dozens of methods—from consuming mythical flora to symbiotic fusion with certain cosmic entities—poured forth. Rhode listened, his mind categorizing, evaluating, a sense of awe growing at the sheer variety of ways the universe had devised to cheat death.
"The first wish has been granted. Speak your second wish."
Porunga's monologue ceased, his voice regaining its formal boom, pulling Rhode from his analytical reverie.
Click.
Rhode stopped the recording and stowed the device. For his second wish, he had a clear, research-oriented goal.
"Porunga, without altering me in any way, grant me a complete body of knowledge regarding time machine construction, and the methodologies for locating stable spacetime nodes."
He needed the full theoretical framework, not just Mashirito's brilliant but unfinished work.
"This wish is simple!" Porunga declared. Knowledge of this nature, even profound, was within his purview to bestow as information.
A river of data, diagrams, equations, and conceptual models began to flow into Rhode's consciousness—the accumulated temporal engineering of civilizations far beyond Earth or Namek, paired with esoteric techniques for sensing the weak points in reality's fabric. It was overwhelming, magnificent.
"Very well. The wish is granted. Farewell!"
With his duty done, Porunga's form dissolved into streams of light. The seven dragon balls shot into the sky, scattering towards the horizons of Namek.
Still the same old rules, Rhode thought with a wry internal sigh. Any further questions would have to wait another year. But he understood; before Dende's upgrade, the Namekian dragon's powers were more limited, its "wishes" often bundled concepts.
His body blurred into motion. In a series of precision Instant Transmission jumps, he intercepted each of the seven orbs before they could vanish into the wilderness.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
They landed in a neat pile at his feet. He then spent the next hour personally returning each one to its respective village, earning quiet nods of gratitude from the Namekian guardians.
With his business concluded and a cosmos of new knowledge buzzing in his mind, he focused on a familiar ki signature back on Earth.
Swish.
The green plains of Namek were replaced by the clean lines of his Martial Arts Hall's private courtyard. The quiet was profound. He had no time to waste. He needed to sequester himself, to dissect the treasure trove of temporal theory and the catalogue of immortality methods now residing in his head. The next phase of his ascent—understanding time itself and conquering mortality—had officially begun.