Yamcha’s body instantly tensed up, wanting to instinctively counterattack.
But he still restrained himself.
However, Mrs. Brief’s bosom was…
truly vast!
“Long time no see!”
Mrs. Brief reached out and pinched Yamcha’s arm, her face full of surprise, “Oh my, you’ve gotten sturdier again, and these muscles are so rock-hard. Would you like to go on a date with Auntie? There is a newly opened dessert shop on West Street.”
Yamcha felt a chill down his spine, and goosebumps broke out all over.
This lady was as enthusiastic and vibrant as ever.
“Um… Auntie, I just ate, next time, definitely next time.”
Yamcha gave two dry laughs and quietly retreated half a step to put some distance between them.
He glanced at Bulma beside him.
Bulma was rolling her eyes, looking as if she was used to it.
As for Dr. Brief, he was smiling as he smoked his pipe, completely unconcerned about his wife flirting with a young man.
Yamcha couldn’t help muttering inwardly.
Bulma’s infatuated personality was definitely one hundred percent inherited from her mother.
Fortunately, this family wasn’t very formal, which saved a lot of polite trouble.
“Mom, stop messing around. Yamcha is here for serious business this time.”
Bulma rescued Yamcha from her mother’s clutches and pulled her dad toward the underground laboratory, “Dad, you came at the right time, help me look at this theoretical model.”
Mrs. Brief covered her mouth and chuckled softly, “Young people are so energetic. You guys go ahead and get busy, I’m going to play cards with the lady next door.”
Having narrowly escaped the enthusiastic auntie, the three of them entered the core area of Capsule Corp.
The underground third-floor laboratory.
The space here was extremely large, filled with all sorts of precision instruments and unnamed robotic arms.
Bulma walked up to the central control console, her fingers tapping rapidly on the virtual keyboard to pull up a holographic projection blueprint.
“Dad, take a look at this.”
Dr. Brief bit down on his pipe and leaned closer to the holographic screen.
His originally casual gaze gradually became focused after scanning a few lines of core data.
“Reverse gravitational field generator?”
The doctor pushed up his glasses, “Lass, you want to create high gravity inside this enclosed metal cabin? This is no small project. Once gravity is stacked, the material strength of the cabin, the output power of the energy core, and the internal life support System all need to be redesigned.”
“I know.”
Bulma pointed to a node on the blueprint, “For the energy output, I plan to use a micro nuclear fusion battery array, and use z-alloy for the Materials. But I haven’t figured out how to solve the problem of uneven force field distribution. Once the gravity becomes unbalanced, the person inside will be instantly torn apart.”
Dr. Brief took off his pipe, thought for a dozen seconds, and exhaled a ring of smoke: “Change the generator nodes to eight positions and make it a regular octahedron structure. Using the principle of gravitational wave interference for counteraction can form a stable, uniform gravity field.”
As expected of Earth’s top scientist, he saw the key to the problem at a glance and provided a solution.
Yamcha stood aside, unable to understand the technical jargon, but he knew the Gravity Chamber was secured.
“Doctor, following this plan, how fast can it be built?” Yamcha asked aloud.
“That depends on how many times the gravity you need.”
Dr. Brief looked at him, “The human body’s tolerance limit is limited. A normal person will experience difficulty breathing at double gravity, and internal organs will be damaged at triple gravity.”
“For the Early Stage goal, ten times is enough.”
Yamcha raised a finger, “For the Late Stage, I hope to reach one hundred times.”
Dr. Brief’s movement paused, and the black cat also meowed along.
“Are you joking with your life, young man.”
The doctor put away his smile, “If it’s ten times gravity, existing Materials can handle it. With my help, a finished product can come out in half a month. But think carefully, if someone dies, I won’t take responsibility.”
“Rest assured, Doctor.”
Yamcha’s expression was calm, “The power of us martial artists is beyond imagination, and besides, I don’t have time to take it slow anymore.”
Bulma took a deep look at him, didn’t speak, and turned around to start modifying the blueprint data.
“Alright, since you insist.”
Dr. Brief bit back on his pipe, “Come back in half a month. But before that, you need to cooperate with collecting some physical data.”
Over the next two days, Yamcha stayed directly at Capsule Corp.
Aside from cooperating with Bulma to collect various physical limit data, he spent the rest of his time doing basic training in the courtyard.
Under the sunlight.
Yamcha was shirtless, sweat sliding down the texture of his well-toned muscles.
He closed his eyes, feeling the energy known as “Qi” inside his body.
A Power Level of 168.
Without the assistance of the Gravity Chamber, pure weight-bearing training and punching did not do much to improve his Power Level.
What he needed to do now was to completely master this body and achieve absolute control over Qi.
In the original story, the reason Earth’s martial artists could keep up even a little bit with those monsters in the Late Stage was thanks to their meticulous operation of Qi.
Hiding aura, instantaneous burst, compression of the Ki Blast.
“Hah!”
Yamcha abruptly opened his eyes and threw a punch forward.
He did not use full strength, only mobilizing a small portion of Qi attached to his fist surface.
The air emitted a sonic boom.
Five meters ahead, a two-meter-high landscape boulder instantly shattered, and gravel flew everywhere.
“The control is still not precise enough.”
Yamcha withdrew his fist, looking at the gravel on the ground; the power had scattered somewhat.
If he could completely compress Qi to burst at a single point, that rock should have been pierced straight through instead of blasted apart.
If it were Goku or Tien Shinhan, their application of Qi at this moment should be above his own.
“System.” Yamcha chanted silently in his mind.
A transparent panel emerged.
[strongest earthling system]
[Host: Yamcha]
[Power Level: 168]
[Race: Earthling (Bound)]
[Skills: New Wolf Fang Fist, Kamehameha, Spirit Ball, Turtle School Martial Arts…]
[Main Quest: 1: I, Yamcha, will never become a meme. 2. World Martial Arts Tournament Champion.]
Looking at the motionless numbers, Yamcha shook his head.
This was the sorrow of ordinary martial artists.
Without the cheat-like ability of Saiyans whose Power Level doubles upon recovering from near-death, they could only grind it out bit by bit with sweat.
“Young Master Yamcha!”
A small blue figure darted out from behind the courtyard low wall, crashing directly into Yamcha’s arms.
It was Puar.
That shape-shifting cat grabbed Yamcha’s arm, its big eyes watery and its nose red.
“Young Master, you’re finally here! I heard Young Miss Bulma say you arrived the day before yesterday, and I thought she was lying to me!”
Yamcha looked down at the shape-shifting cat that had followed him since the desert period, a warmth welling up in his heart.
In the original story, no matter how miserable Yamcha’s lot was, Puar never left his side.
This loyalty was considered a rare commodity in the entire dragon ball world.
“Yeah, I’m back.”
Yamcha reached out and rubbed Puar’s head.
Puar immediately flew to the stone table nearby, morphed a pair of short little hands, picked up the iced lemonade that had been prepared long ago, and handed it over.
“Young Master, drink some water! I iced this early in the morning, guessing you’d definitely be practicing martial arts in the courtyard!”
Yamcha took the cup and took a sip, the coolness seeping into his lungs.
Having trained all morning, he was indeed thirsty.
“Thank you, Puar.”