"This world is like a densely tangled web of rivers… Whenever a major fork appears, it creates different 'tributaries'—what people call 'parallel worlds'... Most ordinary people in this world will, without realizing it, 'split' into countless identical versions of themselves, becoming part of these parallel worlds...
"You and I, as yin-yang witches, are also ordinary people in this sense.
"It's just that, when we perform divinations, we are already standing at the 'fork in the world'. When we see different divination results, it means... we have been chosen by 'different historical outcomes' and entered that particular 'tributary of history'. Therefore, the future we see is one we are bound to live through…
"But—there exists a kind of person in this world for whom, no matter what they do, the world does not 'split' because of it. Their very existence carries a sort of 'singularity,' and even the universe must respect that singularity… Thus, any divination involving such people will never yield a fated result. Every action they take can alter the future… and their different choices do not spawn different 'world lines'…"
The fortune teller's master spoke in a soft, ethereal voice. Her face was deeply furrowed and filled with age-old wisdom. Her eyes, especially, were faint and pale in color, as if all things in the world no longer existed within them—no longer mattered to her, already forsaken.
The fortune teller's expression flickered between light and dark. At last, she could not help but ask, "So Master means… Taro is one of those people?"
"That's right," her master replied with just two simple words.
"Any choice he makes follows only his will?"
"That's right."
"Every action he takes is respected even by the universe?"
"That's right."
"His different decisions don't give rise to different parallel worlds?"
"That's right."
"Then… Master, what is someone like Taro?"
"He is not a man. He is a god! … Even in the eyes of the universe, he holds extraordinary potential to become a 'True God'!"
Her master spoke each word with unwavering certainty. Only such a possibility could explain why a witch's divination would fail.
"A True God…"
The fortune teller took a deep breath, her expression filled with awe. After a long pause, she gave a stiff nod, unable to find words. She recalled how, at the very beginning, Taro had crossed great distances with the seal of King Piccolo, asking her for a divination. She had told him that the valley she foresaw would keep the seal safe for three hundred years. Yet in the end… the Demon Clan broke it after just one hundred years, releasing King Piccolo.
Later, she had personally read Taro's fate several times—none of them accurate.
The universe is a vast collection of countless possibilities, encompassing every choice, every phenomenon. Yet Taro seemed like a reckless child walking his own singular path, unpredictable, guided solely by his own will.
Outside of that one path, no version of him existed in any other parallel world.
The fortune teller looked toward the sky above the Other World. She had not realized it before, but somehow, without her noticing, her younger brother had become someone like that. And now, all of a sudden, he might become a True God? She remembered how, long ago, when she still had mortal roots, she had begged her master to bestow the Water of Immortality on the boy, worried he might not live long… The world truly was full of strange wonders.
"Master… do you believe Taro will become the being you described?"
"That's not a matter of belief. When he truly becomes a True God, we will no longer be able to divine anything about him. And if he never has the potential to become one, then he will once again blend into the great vast world like everyone else… Whether he does or doesn't, it is a good thing for us either way."
"…I see."
---
Leaving the Other World, Taro and Hathaway returned to the living world with Bulma in tow, reappearing at the grand estate of Dr. Briefs in West City. To Taro and Hathaway, it was nothing more than a short trip, a leisurely stroll—but to little Bulma, it was an utterly fantastical experience.
"Waaah… we actually went to the Other World…"
Dr. Brief and his wife listened to their daughter's excited chatter, their minds a total mess. As always, Mrs. Brief had her hands to her cheeks, gasping in exaggerated awe, while Dr. Brief himself had his mouth wide open, not even noticing the cigarette falling from his lips to the floor.
Taro and Hathaway sat nearby, watching silently. Occasionally their eyes met, exchanging thoughts only the two of them could understand.
"By the way, that dragon embroidery you did when you were into needlework—where did you put it?" Taro suddenly asked, leaning toward Hathaway as he glanced at the laughing Bulma.
Hathaway looked puzzled. "Maybe in the nightstand drawer? I'm not too sure though... Why are you looking for that?" she asked, following his gaze to Bulma.
What did the dragon embroidery have to do with Bulma? How had Taro made that connection? Hathaway couldn't help but chuckle.
"What's funny?" Taro whispered close to her ear.
"You… always thinking of these strange things no one can guess," Hathaway replied softly with a laugh.
"Not even you?" Taro grinned.
"Nope, not even me," she said, eyes twinkling like a young girl's.
"Heh... I told Gohan earlier that Goku had a 'fateful opportunity' waiting for him. As his master, I've got to keep my word," Taro said with a small shake of his head, pulling Hathaway into his arms as he explained.
"Aww, how sweet!" Hathaway leaned her head against his shoulder with a playful giggle, then softened her tone. "If you're going to get it, better hurry." As soon as she finished, the spot next to her suddenly felt empty. Hathaway swayed slightly, catching herself against the now-vacant couch, and couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, that was fast."
Huh? Mrs. Brief blinked, tilting her head in confusion as she noticed Taro had vanished.
---
Taro's figure reappeared in their home on Muten Island. He could sense that the phoenix wasn't around.
"Where's the Phoenix? Out playing again?" he asked casually as he walked toward the bedroom he shared with Hathaway.
Immediately, Jarvis's projection appeared on the crystalline wall of the house and replied, "Yes, Mr. Taro. It left on a 'trip' with its necklace." By trip, Jarvis essentially meant the phoenix was flying all over the world looking for fun, interesting, and exotic animals… to eat.
Taro nodded, not bothering to deal with that lazy bird. He reached the nightstand in their bedroom, opened the drawer, rummaged through it, and sure enough, found the dragon embroidery Hathaway had made. Over the years, she'd put in a lot of effort to handcraft clothes for him.