Returning to West City, the night was deep.
At Capsule Corp, the lights in the underground third-floor laboratory were still on.
Bulma had fallen asleep slumped over the central control console, a cup of cold black coffee beside her hand.
Blueprints were scattered all over the floor.
Yamcha walked over, picked up the lab coat from the back of the chair, and draped it over her.
Bulma’s eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes.
She rubbed her messy blue hair, making out the person who had come: “Where did you run off to? I thought you died in the Gravity Chamber.”
“Just went outside to stretch my muscles.” Yamcha pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Right, your physical data has already reached the gravity limit of this machine.”
Bulma’s fingers tapped on the keyboard, bringing up a holographic screen.
“In other words, ten times gravity has already become normal for you. If we increase it further, unless we update the core Materials, the gravity effect inside the capsule won’t be much use anymore.”
Yamcha looked thoughtful at this.
The night passed in silence.
The next day.
Morning news.
The female anchor of the West City television station reported in an exaggerated tone: “Last night, a violent explosion occurred at the northern suburb dock. When the police rushed to the scene, they discovered that the smuggling syndicate ‘Viper’s stronghold had been completely destroyed. A large amount of contraband weapons and human trafficking evidence were seized at the scene. Witnesses claimed a mysterious man wearing an orange martial arts uniform—”
Snap.
The television was turned off.
Bulma put down the remote control, turned around holding her coffee cup, leaned against the laboratory’s operating counter, and looked at Yamcha who had just come out of the Gravity Chamber.
“Orange Demon.”
Bulma spat out these four words, her tone pitching upward slightly.
Yamcha wiped the sweat on his neck with a towel and didn’t reply.
“West City is only this big. Do you think I couldn’t guess the person running around the streets wearing an orange martial arts uniform?”
Yamcha draped the towel over his shoulder and looked at her calmly.
He hadn’t intended to hide it in the first place.
The gangs of West City were deeply rooted and intertwined; the destruction of Viper would sooner or later trigger a chain reaction.
Bulma tilted her head and suddenly smiled.
That kind of smile was an expression Yamcha had never seen on her face before.
“What, afraid I’ll blame you?”
Bulma picked up her coffee and took a sip.
“Rather than having a boyfriend who is all brawn with nothing to show for it, only knowing how to hide in the Gravity Chamber all day hitting punching bags and doing nothing, I’d much rather he be a hero.”
She put down her coffee cup and raised her chin.
“I am proud of this.”
Yamcha was stunned.
The impression of Bulma in his mind was being gradually overwritten by the real woman in front of him.
But that still didn’t affect the fact that Bulma Brief was a woman who could venture alone into the wilderness at seventeen to search for the dragon ball, and even dared to flip off Frieza.
What she appreciated was never just strength, but a sense of security and responsibility.
No wonder in the original work she ultimately chose that madly proud Saiyan Prince.
A thought crossed the bottom of Yamcha’s heart, firmer than any System quest:
I will never give you to Vegeta.
“Bulma.”
“Hmm?”
“The World Martial Arts Tournament is on Papaya Island in two months.”
Yamcha tossed the towel into the laundry basket.
“I don’t plan to fly there.”
Bulma blinked.
“Then you’re going to walk there? From West City to Papaya Island in the southern country, it’s thousands of kilometers in a straight line, and there’s a vast sea in between.”
“Right, training as I walk.”
Yamcha moved his shoulders.
“The gains from the Gravity Chamber have already reached a Bottleneck. Next, environmental stimulation in the wild might be what helps me continue to make a Breakthrough.”
Bulma was silent for two seconds.
Yamcha had already prepared a set of arguments to deal with her opposition.
“Fine.”
“… Huh?”
“I said fine, did your ears get deafened from training?”
Bulma rolled her eyes.
“I’ve been monitoring the data from the Gravity Chamber. In the past two weeks, your strength growth has leveled off. Continuing to bash your head against it inside there is a waste of time. From a scientific perspective, changing the training environment and stimulation source is actually conducive to breaking through the adaptability Bottleneck.”
She added, “I’m not an unreasonable woman.”
Yamcha looked at her.
Bulma felt a bit uncomfortable being stared at by him and turned her face away.
“What are you looking at? Hurry up and pack your things—”
Before she finished speaking, she was scooped up horizontally in his arms.
“Hey! What are you doing! Put me down! Yamcha!”
Bulma patted his chest, her face turning completely red in an instant.
Yamcha ignored her struggle and strode upstairs.
“You bastard… At least close the laboratory door!”
Behind them, the automatic door slowly closed.
Mrs. Brief happened to be passing by the hallway carrying a dessert tray, saw this scene through the glass, covered her mouth and laughed silently, then turned around to find her old partner to play cards.
…
Early the next morning.
Before dawn broke.
Yamcha was already fully dressed, standing in front of the main gate of Capsule Corp.
Orange martial arts uniform, blue belt, stepping on black martial arts boots. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Tucked at his waist was a small cloth bag containing a pouch and several hoi-poi capsules.
Yamcha took one last look at the building behind him.
A window on the second floor had its light on; the curtain moved slightly, then was quickly drawn shut.
Without turning back, he stepped into the morning mist.
Over the next two months, Yamcha set out from West City and headed south all the way.
Cultivating while completing temporary quests from the System.
During the Transmigration across the desert area of the central continent.
He practiced his fists in a fifty-degree high-temperature sandstorm, dismantling and reorganizing every movement of the New Wolf Fang Fist, integrating the mysteries of Qi.
When spanning across the dense forest area, he hunted mutated giant beasts empty-handed.
After arriving at the southern coastline, he jumped into the deep sea, conducting pressure-resistance training for the Kamehameha in a hundred-meter underwater high-pressure environment.
A blue light burst out at the bottom of the sea, startling away the schools of fish for dozens of kilometers around.
The numbers on the panel were constantly climbing.
3388…
3620…
3971…
The growth of every single number was accompanied by the tearing of muscles and the refinement of bones.
There was no near-death surge like a Saiyan’s.
There were no shortcuts.
There was only one person of Earth, climbing upwards step by step.
…
Age 756, May 6th.
Southern country, Papaya Island.
The rain was quite heavy, just soaking the entire island in a layer of thin mist.
The dock of Papaya Island was packed with people.
Ferries docked one after another; people of all sorts—holding umbrellas, wearing raincoats, bare-chested and getting soaked in the rain—poured out of the cabins, walking along the stone steps toward the World Martial Arts Tournament venue.
The 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament.
The organizer was an unknown tycoon who reportedly spent billions to charter the entire island.
At the same time, the tickets had been sold out a month ago.
The reason was very simple.
In the finals of the previous World Martial Arts Tournament, Tien Shinhan and Son Goku fought a battle that surpassed human cognition, and the footage of that match was broadcasted hundreds of millions of times globally.
For the first time, people realized that martial artists could be that powerful.
In comparison, the gold content of the other two martial arts tournaments was pitifully low.
Babuto, who claimed to be the “Super Genius Fighter,” was eliminated in the first round of the World Martial Arts Tournament.
In the post-match interview, he stubbornly claimed his opponent cheated, and was mocked by netizens for a whole year.
Therefore, in this tournament, there were actually fewer registered contestants.