Philip put a tremendous amount of thought and effort into raising little Broly.
Over the next three years, the child grew bigger and stronger by the day.
As the Saiyan with the greatest talent and potential in all of *Dragon Ball*, Broly grew stronger simply by eating, sleeping, and playing every day.
On top of that, the boy’s learning capacity was terrifying.
Relying on his knowledge of *Dragon Ball*, Philip spent over a year working out how to manipulate ki, eventually teaching himself the Sky Dance Technique.
Yet Broly, who was barely over a year old at the time, took one look at it, stretched out his hands, hopped lightly, and naturally mastered flight.
Thank goodness Philip reacted fast enough to grab the excited toddler before he rocketed into the clouds; otherwise, the kid would have undoubtedly performed a supersonic trip around the globe right then and there.
That would have been a nightmare.
After all, this wasn’t the Earth from Philip’s previous life—Earth in the Marvel Universe was extremely dangerous.
If they drew the attention of supervillains—or worse, that ridiculously long-named organization that claimed to stand for justice while long since being secretively taken over—the father and son would be subjected to endless threats from the shadows.
After giving it some thought, even though Philip knew he was barely a novice himself, he decided to teach little Broly all the ki techniques he had figured out so far.
“Little Broly, through meditation, can you feel that ki inside your body?
I know it might be a bit tough, but…” “Um, Daddy, I have a question.
Why do I feel two kis inside me?
One is super angry, like when we wake up Big Bear and Little Bear in the winter.
But the other ki is really calm, just like how it feels when I sleep while hugging Ah Fu.” Philip knew little Broly’s talent was absurd, but he had never expected it to be *this* insane.
Philip himself had only managed to feel his own ki because he knew the plot of *Dragon Ball*.
He had focused his Perception with absolute certainty for three or four full months before finally sensing it.
Yet little Broly hadn’t even taken a single second to locate the ki inside his body.
Suppressing a tiny pang of jealousy at his son’s godlike talent, Philip adjusted his mindset and gave little Broly a thumbs-up.
“Awesome.
You did an amazing job, Broly.” “Trust your own feelings.” “In truth, everyone’s ki is unique.
Sometimes, you don’t even need your physical senses to identify someone—you can tell who they are just by their ki.” “Now, for what you’re going to learn next, make sure you wait until I finish explaining before trying it.
First, you need to slowly expand your perception to feel more ki.
First feel my ki, then feel the ki of other people in the world.
You must remember: ki transcends space, distance, and even species.
As long as a consciousness exists, it has a ki unique to itself.
However, do not interfere with them.
You must act as a calm watcher, sensing their ki and analyzing…” This time, little Broly took a bit longer.
He closed his eyes and waited about a minute before opening them again.
“Daddy, I have a question.
That ki you talked about…
it doesn’t seem to just be on Earth.
I felt ki outside of Earth too.” Philip was dumbfounded.
Up until now, his maximum ki-sensing range had only been a little over two thousand kilometers.
Yet right off the bat, in under a minute, little Broly’s perception had blasted right past Earth.
Talk about comparison being the thief of joy.
The gap between their talents was like the distance between the peak of Mount Everest and the bottom of the Mariana Trench.
*Brat, being this talented makes things really awkward for your old man.* To maintain his authority as a teacher, Philip resolved to pull an all-nighter practicing that evening while putting on a calm, unfazed facade like a true grandmaster.
“Very good, Broly.
Since you can feel that different people have different ki, can you distinguish between them?” “The differences?” Broly pondered for a moment.
“I feel like Daddy’s ki is like a roaring campfire—it feels warm when I get close.
Most people’s ki is like glowing ash, flickering away.
I feel like if I’m not careful, I could extinguish it just by stepping closer.
A few people have stronger ki, about the size of a candle flame.
But it’s still really weak; I feel like I could put it out with a finger.
There are also some kis that are super strong—bigger than Daddy’s and bigger than mine.
Though I think putting those out would take a bit of effort.” *Holy cow,* Philip thought, internally marveling.
His dear son’s first reaction upon sensing other people’s ki was to “extinguish” them—that was peak Super Saiyan mindset.
“Wait, no.
Extinguishing them is another story.
After all, they haven’t provoked us, and we don’t need to get anything from them like we do when hunting for meat.” To make sure little Broly understood, Philip spoke in terms the child could easily digest.
“Son, can you feel what’s different about their ki?
Not in terms of size, but the feeling they give you.” Little Broly nodded.
“Daddy’s ki feels warm, while some are cold.
Some kis smell like the tomato noodle sauce Daddy makes for me, while others have a nasty stench, like wolverine poop.” Seeing that Broly could distinguish the nuances of ki, Philip struck while the iron was hot, instructing his son to trust his own instincts.
What you saw, heard, or smelled could all be illusions, but almost no one could disguise their ki—after all, this was the Marvel Universe, where the refined ki training systems of *Dragon Ball* didn’t exist.
“If a ki makes you feel fearful or uncomfortable, the person behind it might be able to hurt you.
Plus, not everyone in this world is good—bad people exist, too.
Even if you’re not afraid of them, you still have to stay alert and careful.” This was Philip’s very first safety lesson for Broly.
After all, in a Marvel world fraught with perils, relying solely on overwhelming brute force to steamroll everything wasn’t impossible, but it was extremely difficult.
No matter how high your combat power was, there was always a risk of crashing and burning in Marvel.
One had to constantly guard against schemes, plots, and unpredictable accidents.
Next, Philip began teaching Broly a ki technique he had developed from his hunting experience.
He taught Broly how to disguise his ki and lower his presence so he wouldn’t be easily spotted by prey.
By the same logic, doing so would also reduce the chances of being targeted by malicious individuals—or whatever else might be lurking.
“I get it, Daddy.” Little Broly was brilliant; he instantly grasped his father’s good intentions.
He even extrapolated from the lesson and immediately put it into practice.
“Just now when I was sensing around, a ki that smelled like rotten eggs seemed to notice me and started searching for where I was.
But just like you said, Daddy, I hid my ki first…
and then gave it a hard punch!” *Huh?
What the heck?* Philip was bewildered, but after carefully inspecting little Broly and confirming the boy was completely unharmed, he eased his worried heart.
What he didn’t know, however…
Just moments ago, an old man in a suit had been smugly reviewing the script he had orchestrated: Johnny Blaze, whom he had bound as the Ghost Rider, had gone wild after his father’s sudden death and fled his former life.
This old man was Mephisto, Lord of the Hell Dimension.
But just as he was preparing to catch up to the spiraling Johnny and awaken the Ghost Rider to serve him, he suddenly felt a gaze probing him.
That’s right—the prober was none other than little Broly.
However, the powerful dimensional lord instantly “discovered” him, catching sight of the Super Saiyan’s soul—dazzling and immense like a supernova.
“What a magnificent, high-caliber soul!” In his ecstasy, Mephisto forgot all about the Ghost Rider and rushed to trace Broly’s exact location.
Yet right at that moment, having just learned the technique Philip taught him, Broly’s ki instantly went dead silent.
Mephisto lost his target in a flash.
Just as he was pacing in circles, scratching his head in sheer frustration at being unable to find the target left or right, the hidden, stealthily approaching Broly threw a psychic punch right at the old geezer’s ki.
And after landing the hit, he bolted immediately, leaving zero opportunity for retaliation.
Getting hit by a Super Saiyan’s ki instantly broke Mephisto’s defense—quite literally, in the magical sense.
The illusion concealing his presence on Earth was cracked wide open by Broly’s punch.
Immediately after, amid a sparkling portal of crackling golden sparks, a bald woman appeared directly in front of the old man Mephisto had disguised himself as.
*Fuck!* Before he could even finish cursing, the Hell Dimension Lord Mephisto was ambushed and clobbered by the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, the Ancient One.
While walking on Earth, Mephisto neither dared nor possessed the capability to manifest his true form, so he had to hide from the Ancient One at all costs.
Now that the Ancient One had caught him, he faced a one-sided beatdown that sent him crashing right back into the Hell Dimension.
Not only had he failed to secure little Broly’s soul, but the Ghost Rider he had practically held in his hands had also slipped away.
Back in his Hellish palace, Mephisto exploded in fury.
“Who was it?!
Whoever ambushed me, you’d better pray I never find out!” Mephisto roared from his throne.
However, reluctant to destroy his own palace to vent his rage, he simply went to find his son, Blackheart.
*Smack!
Pow!
Crack!* *Thud!
Thud!
Thud!* *Aaaagh!* Beat the kid on a rainy day—he was free anyway, and it helped blow off some steam.