Chapter 5

As the sun set and the busy city of Chicago started to quiet down for the night, on the edges of the city, two figures could be seen fighting, their loud crashes echoing through the area.

Mark was gasping for breath, chasing after a man dressed in an orange and blue outfit. The man stood with his arms folded, unflinching, as Mark tried over and over to land a hit, but to no avail.

It had only been a few days since Goku was introduced to the Global Defense Agency (GDA). Cecil, the agency's director, had taken the time to educate Goku about the Viltrumites by showing him footage of their fiercest battles—which was Mark's fights with Omni-Man and Anissa or Mark's survival against Viltrumites. Goku watched intently, deep in thought about the best way to approach the upcoming fights with Viltrumites.

Even though Goku had limited his strength to the level he possessed during the days when Cell was the greatest threat, he was curious to test Mark's abilities. He wanted to understand the level of this world's fighters and to measure his own power against them.

Mark's punches were unpredictable, sometimes catching his opponent off guard with sudden bursts of strength. However, after the fifth strike, his punches became less precise and started to slow down. It looked like Mark was used to going all out from the start, probably because his recent opponents were tough, and holding back could have been risky.

As Mark put all his effort into a powerful swing, Goku easily dodged, moving Mark's fist aside and pushing him back. Mark stumbled but quickly regained his stance, gasping for air to recover his breath.

To Mark, fighting Goku felt like battling Anissa, who was quick and agile, but without the harsh hits. He knew Goku was experienced in combat; he had heard stories about Goku's adventures filled with battles. But Mark hadn't expected Goku to be this difficult to land a hit on. It was frustrating, and to make matters worse, Goku seemed to be hardly paying attention to him at all.

Mark inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air before releasing it slowly; it was his way of steadying his nerves. "So, what do you think?" he finally asked, his voice a mix of hope and trepidation.

Goku touched his chin, his brow furrowing as he pondered Mark's question. "Hmm, I'm not so sure," he responded thoughtfully. He had been watching Mark closely, analyzing his power and technique. Goku could see the raw strength in the young fighter, reminiscent of Tien's formidable power. But when it came to the finesse of his moves, Mark seemed to lag behind. He relied too heavily on the sheer force of his attacks, and his approach in combat was too linear. Goku theorized that if Mark could harness the energy of his strikes to redirect his momentum, it would open up opportunities for swift evasion and powerful counterattacks.

"You've got a solid punch, and your strength is impressive," Goku commented, floating effortlessly next to Mark. His voice was calm, almost meditative as he considered Mark's potential. "But with the right training, I see you becoming a good fighter in no time," Goku concluded, turning towards Mark with an encouraging smile that was both warm and confident.

Mark's face brightened at Goku's words. A surge of optimism washed over him as he imagined himself after rigorous training, potentially holding his ground against another Viltrumite. Even if it would be against one of the less formidable of his kind, the prospect excited him. Yet, as he allowed himself a moment of pride, a shadow of concern passed over his features. He knew the stakes were high; it was only a matter of time before another Viltrumite might arrive, intent on enlisting him to subjugate Earth for their empire. The weight of that responsibility pressed on him—he needed to be ready.

"Now, let's see how you handle defense," Goku stated, shifting the focus of their session.

Mark's head whipped around in surprise, his eyes widening as he found Goku already positioned in a combat stance. He had barely a moment to process Goku's words, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden change in pace. Before he could voice a request for a moment's respite, Goku's figure blurred. In the blink of an eye, the Saiyan had vanished from view.

Mark was a whirlwind of panic and adrenaline, his head whipping left and right as he scoured the landscape for any sign of the elusive Saiyan. He knew he needed to pinpoint Goku's location if he had any hope of launching a successful attack. Momentarily steeling himself, he prepared for a confrontation. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of his target – Goku was there, standing with a knowing smile.

"Good," Goku acknowledged with a nod, seemingly impressed by Mark's alertness. Without another word, he lunged forward and landed a solid punch directly in Mark's chest.

Mark's breath whooshed from his lungs, and he found himself soaring uncontrollably backward. The world blurred as he hurtled toward a towering mountain. With a deafening crash, he bore through the rocky mass, emerging from the other side in a shower of stone and dust. His flight only ceased when a firm hand clasped onto his temple, arresting his wild trajectory.

Groggily, Mark squinted at his rescuer, struggling to focus his vision. He was met with the sight of a man in vibrant orange attire. Without wasting a moment, Mark jerked his head to clear the fog of impact, shoving away the figure to re-establish some fighting distance. Standing at the ready was Goku, poised and calm, as if he had all the time in the world.

Before Mark could regain his bearings, Goku advanced with a predatory speed, his fists moving in a blur. Mark managed to raise his arms in a desperate guard, but each strike from Goku felt like a hammer blow, sending shockwaves through his body. The impacts were jarring, shaking his very skeleton, and Mark knew he couldn't endure much more.

In a frantic attempt to escape the onslaught, Mark pivoted sharply to the right, his body straining as he propelled himself into the sky, seeking refuge in the open air. But Goku was relentless, shadowing Mark's every move with an almost preternatural grace. Mark's heart pounded as he realized Goku was keeping pace effortlessly.

Desperation fueled Mark's actions. He swung a direct punch aimed at Goku's face, but it was effortlessly parried. In the same fluid motion, Goku delivered a punishing kick to Mark's midsection. The force was tremendous, and Mark felt as if a freight train had collided with him. With a pained grunt, he spiraled down from the sky, crashing into the earth below. The impact sent up a plume of dust as the ground cratered beneath him.

Within the confines of the newly formed crater, Mark lay motionless. Each breath was a battle, his chest rising and falling in uneven, labored heaves. He could feel the aftershocks of Goku's kick reverberating through him, a stark reminder of the Saiyan's formidable strength.

Then, almost as if he had teleported, Goku was there beside him, his laughter echoing off the crater walls. There was a lightness in his voice that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their battle.

"Man, you're durable, that's for sure!" Goku said, an amused chuckle punctuating his words. He clapped his hands together as if in applause. "No wonder you survived all those hits from your dad and Anissa too. Hahaha!"

Mark's mind reeled. The situation was absurd, almost surreal. He pushed against the earth, his arms trembling as he tried to sit up from his prone position. What the heck is happening? he thought, his body aching from the exchange, yet his spirit undeterred. He knew this was more than a physical battle – it was a test of wills, and he wasn't ready to give up just yet. With gritted teeth and a determined glare, Mark prepared to rise and face Goku once more. The fight was far from over.

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In a dimly lit house, Debbie Grayson, who was both a mother and a warrior in her own right, was working at her computer with one hand. Her other arm was encased in a plaster cast, a vivid reminder of her recent and violent encounter with a man named Levy Angstrom. Her injuries were fresh, and she winced at the slightest movement. Despite the pain, she squinted through her one good eye, determined to focus on her work.

Her adopted son, Oliver, was on her lap, babbling what sounded like "bova, bova," trying to say 'brother' as he pointed at the window. Debbie's attention was pulled away from her screen as she realized Oliver was signaling the arrival of her other son, Mark. She saw him through the window, limping towards the house, and gasped in alarm. Quickly, she set Oliver down and hurried to the door.

Opening it, she found Mark looking worse for wear; his superhero suit was in tatters, and his face was marred with bruises. "Hey, Mom," he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

"What happened to you, Mark?" she asked, cradling his face with concern, careful to avoid causing him more pain.

He took her hands gently and replied with a sheepish squint, "Remember the new coach I mentioned? Well, he's... he's really good. Maybe too good."

Debbie's eyes narrowed slightly, though her expression remained filled with motherly concern. "Mark, there's a fine line between training and getting beaten to a pulp," she admonished as she turned to prepare a meal for him. "I don't want to see you come home like this every night. Training shouldn't leave you in this state."

Just a few days ago, she had been filled in on her son's 'coach', an adventurer from a place called Goku who traveled among the stars. She had also learned about Mark's new training schedule and knew that it might leave him with some bruises here and there. But the state he was in now was more than she had ever anticipated.

As she spoke, Mark let his gaze drift to little Oliver, who watched with wide, innocent eyes. He felt a pang of guilt; he knew his mother's worry was exacerbated by her own recent brush with danger. He hadn't been there to protect her from Levy Angstrom, and the guilt weighed heavily on him. It was a failing he couldn't easily forgive himself for, and it was the reason he had pushed himself to the limit in training that day. He wasn't seeking glory; he was seeking strength—to protect, to defend, to ensure that his family would never be vulnerable again because of his absence.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he said quietly, moving closer to her. "I'll try not to overdo it," he promised, offering her a gentle smile as she prepared dinner.

A soft smile touched Debbie's lips, a mixture of understanding and residual concern. She placed his meal on the table, then carried Oliver over to their caretaker, April, a kind woman who had been helping out since the incident with Angstrom. With Oliver in good hands, she made her way to her bedroom to rest, her own injuries demanding respite. But before she disappeared upstairs, she cast a lingering glance back at Mark.

"Goodnight, Mark. And... try not to get hurt too much," she said, her voice carrying a warmth that only a mother's love could provide.

Mark watched her retreat, a sense of reassurance settling in his chest. He knew his mother's worries were born of love and care. He turned to his dinner but paused, his thoughts drifting to Oliver, now gently snoring in April's arms. "I will, Mom," he pledged quietly, a determined resolve steeling within him.

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Later, after a soothing shower, Mark lay in bed, his body a map of bruises and aches. But the pain was a testament to his growth; today's lesson had been a profound one. He knew that while his father was a formidable fighter, he paled in comparison to the likes of Goku, the legendary warrior he had learned so much from.

Mark couldn't help but marvel at the stark contrast between Goku and the Viltrumites he had previously encountered. The Viltrumites were known for their brute force, their unyielding strength that could withstand the fiercest of assaults. They were a warrior race that prided themselves on their toughness, their ability to take a beating and still stand tall. But Goku was a different breed of fighter altogether.

The speed and agility that Goku possessed were on a level that Mark had never seen before. He moved with such grace and fluidity that it was almost like watching a well-rehearsed dance of war. His strength was undoubtedly on par with that of the Viltrumites or even more, but the way he used it was so different. Each strike from Goku wasn't just powerful; it was precise, calculated, and executed without any wasted movement or effort.

And then there was his defense. Unlike the Viltrumites, who would often meet force with force, Goku seemed to understand the value of not being hit at all. He was always just out of reach, deflecting blows with a flick of his wrist or sidestepping attacks with a slight pivot of his foot. It was as if he had a sixth sense for anticipating his opponent's moves.

In his limited experience with his own kind, Mark had learned that Viltrumites tended to rely on their extraordinary durability. They would allow themselves to be struck, almost as a display of their superiority, firmly believing that they could withstand whatever was thrown at them and then deliver a counterattack that was even more devastating. It was a show of might, a testament to their indomitable spirit.

But Goku didn't seem interested in such displays. He didn't need to prove his strength by taking unnecessary hits. Instead, he moved with the wisdom of someone who knew that the essence of combat was not about enduring blows but avoiding them. Goku had seemingly mastered the art of fighting to such a degree that it transcended mere physical prowess. He had an understanding of the ebb and flow of battle, the give and take of offense and defense, and he used that knowledge to outmaneuver opponents who might have been his equals in terms of raw power.

As Mark lay there, analyzing the battle, he realized that Goku had integrated techniques and strategies into his fighting style. He didn't just fight; he adapted, he learned, and he overcame. Goku's approach to combat was holistic, treating it as a craft to be refined. It was a revelation to Mark, who had been raised with the idea that a Viltrumite's strength was the ultimate weapon. But here, against Goku, he saw the true potential of what it meant to be a fighter – it wasn't just about being strong, it was about being smart, skilled, and versatile in the face of any challenge.

Mark knew that if he wanted to stand a chance against Goku, or any opponent of such caliber, he would need to do more than rely on his Viltrumite heritage. He would need to learn, grow, and perhaps most importantly, understand that there was more to victory than just being the last one standing. The fight with Goku was more than a physical contest; it was a lesson in the art of combat. And Mark was an eager student.