Puar smiled so much that his eyes curved into crescent moons, and his tail was cocked high.
It flew a circle around Yamcha, sizing up the muscle lines of his upper body.
“Young Master, you went out to Cultivate for over a year, your martial arts must have become much stronger! That rock just now weighed at least three tons!”
“Tch!”
A voice emerged from behind the low wall.
A pink little pig wearing suspenders, with a popsicle clamped in its mouth, walked out swaying.
Oolong.
It squinted its eyes, looked at the scattered stones all over the floor, and then looked at Yamcha, the popsicle spinning half a turn in its mouth.
“No way, what’s so great about a few broken stones.”
Puar immediately bristled his fur: “What did you say!”
Oolong didn’t care at all, swaggered over to the stone table and sat down, crossing its short legs.
“I’m just telling the fact, even if Yamcha becomes stronger, he definitely can’t beat Goku.”
After saying this, the pig deliberately glanced at Yamcha, that expression clearly saying…
Puar was so angry he turned into a hammer and was about to smash over: “You stinky pig! Young Master will not lose to anyone!”
“Hey hey hey, don’t start!”
Oolong scrambled away, the popsicle almost flying out, “I didn’t say anything wrong, at the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament, Yamcha lost to Tien Shinhan in the first round of the quarterfinals, and his legs were broken!”
“If you are not convinced, go find Tien Shinhan to argue!”
Puar directly turned into a bucket of water, splashing it all over Oolong’s face with a splash.
“Bah! What do you know, Young Master wasn’t serious before, now that he’s serious, what is Goku!”
“Pfft, easy to say, a martial artist’s strength isn’t bragged out by the mouth.”
Yamcha stood aside, watching the cat and pig wrestling together, Puar turning into a hammer and Oolong turning into a shield, the two fighting until dust flew everywhere.
Can’t beat Goku.
If this sentence were placed on the original Yamcha, hearing it would probably make his mindset shatter.
But now, he just took a sip of lemonade.
Can’t beat, then train until he can beat them.
The number 168 on the System panel, he knew what it meant better than anyone.
“Alright, stop fighting.” Yamcha spoke.
With one sentence, Puar and Oolong stopped at the same time.
Yamcha looked at Oolong, showing no Life Qi: “You are right, the current me indeed cannot beat Goku.”
Oolong’s mouth opened and closed.
It had prepared a bunch of rebuttals, but the other party directly admitted it.
Puar became anxious: “Young Master!”
Yamcha put the empty cup on the stone table, “But in the upcoming World Martial Arts Tournament, the champion will definitely be mine.”
Oolong’s mouth twitched, wanting to mock a few words, but when facing those eyes, the words at its mouth were stuffed back into its belly.
Although this pig was cowardly, its intuition was always not bad.
The Yamcha in front of him was different from before.
“Hum, keep bragging.” Oolong muttered softly, shrinking back behind the low wall to gnaw on a popsicle.
Puar flew onto Yamcha’s shoulder and whispered: “Young Master, don’t listen to that pig’s nonsense.”
Yamcha patted Puar: “It’s fine.”
Coincidentally.
The side door of the experimental building opened.
Bulma walked out, clutching an electronic pen in her hand, her lab coat open and unbuttoned, inside was yesterday’s set of overalls.
There were obvious dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was a bit disheveled, obviously having soaked in the laboratory for the whole night.
As the wind blew, she took a deep breath.
“Young Miss Bulma!” Puar flew over.
Bulma waved her hand, her gaze sweeping across the scattered stones and dust all over the courtyard, wrinkled her nose, walked to the stone table and sat down.
“You’ve been smashing stones here all morning?”
This made Yamcha a bit awkward.
Bulma stared at him for a while, then suddenly spoke: “The reverse model of the anti-gravity engine, I ran the first version last night.”
“My dad’s regular octahedron scheme is indeed feasible, but I optimized the energy conduction path, and the efficiency increased by about twelve percent.”
Bulma tapped the electronic pen on the desktop a few times, projecting a small holographic image, “According to the current progress, it won’t take half a month.”
Bulma reached out one hand.
“Ten days.”
She looked at Yamcha, with a trace of smugness at the corner of her mouth: “How about it, is your girlfriend smart enough?”
Yamcha smiled.
Ten days.
Ten days later, his Cultivate will enter a brand new stage.
Bulma reached out one hand, raising her chin to look at Yamcha.
Yamcha looked at the blue-haired maiden in front of him with dark circles and an open lab coat, his heartbeat uncontrollably skipping half a beat.
Not only because of the joy of the Gravity Chamber being completed ahead of schedule, but also because of the person standing in front of him.
In memory, it was this woman who accompanied the original Yamcha through the most passionate youth years.
But in the end, because of that Yamcha’s weakness, fickleness, and lack of ambition, the two parted ways.
Later, she became the wife of the Saiyan Prince Vegeta, creating that Genius Trunks.
But now, standing here is the brand new Yamcha.
He would never hand over his woman to others, Vegeta wants to be the kept son-in-law of Capsule Corp?
Go dream.
Yamcha said not a word, taking large strides to close the distance between the two.
“What are you doing? Scared silly by this Young Miss’s Genius brain…”
Bulma’s words were not yet finished, Yamcha suddenly reached out both hands, grabbed her slender waist, and directly picked her entire body up.
The weightlessness of her feet hanging in the air made Bulma let out an exclamation.
The next second, Yamcha lowered his head and kissed those nagging lips.
The courtyard instantly became quiet.
Puar widened his eyes, covering his mouth with two short little hands.
The popsicle in Oolong’s hand dropped to the ground.
Bulma’s brain directly crashed.
She opened her eyes wide, looking at this familiar face close at hand, her hands subconsciously resting on Yamcha’s pectoral muscles.
The overwhelming male hormones made her forget to struggle.
Five seconds later, Yamcha let go of his mouth and steadily placed Bulma on the ground.
“You… you’re crazy!”
Bulma retreated two steps, her cheeks instantly turning crimson, even her earlobes turning completely red.
She pointed at Yamcha, her usually glib mouth now stammering even when speaking.
“Bulma.”
Yamcha’s expression was as usual, staring straight at her, “You are Yamcha’s girlfriend, no one can snatch you away.”
Bulma was made flustered by these words, her gaze wandering everywhere, her hands crossed in front of her chest: “Who… who promised to follow you for a lifetime, stop being so conceited!”
Although she said so verbally, she didn’t turn around and run away, instead fidgeting in place.
Yamcha didn’t continue to entangle on this topic, he knew when to quit while ahead.
He slightly corrected his expression, and spoke: “Bulma, since the Gravity Chamber still needs ten days, I don’t want to waste this time, lend me the dragon radar to use.”
“dragon radar!”
The blush on Bulma’s face hadn’t faded yet, “Demon King Piccolo passed only two years ago, Earth is very peaceful now, what are you looking for dragon ball for?”
“I have my plans.”
Yamcha’s tone was firm, “Piccolo Jr. may appear at any time, I must try every means to improve my strength, Shenron’s power might be able to help me break some restrictions.”