Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The forests of Mount Paozu, once thriving and teeming with life, now stood twisted and broken. The mountain peaks that once loomed proud and tall had crumbled into dust. The creatures that once called this land home fled at the faintest rustle of leaves, their wide, fearful eyes glancing behind them, they knew better than to linger in these cursed lands.

They say these lands are haunted by a fearsome beast, the Monkey Devil of Mount Paozu. Each day, it prowls the barren terrain, its footsteps leaving the earth scarred and broken, the stories speak of its endless hunger for power, pushing itself to the brink, carving destruction wherever it treads.

But it is under the full moon’s brightest light that the true horror unfolds, in those moments, they say, the beast shows its true power, revealing a monstrous form so terrible it could shake the heavens and threaten the Earth itself.

Few dare to tread these cursed grounds, for the tales warn of certain doom, the brave, the desperate, and the foolish have all ventured here, chasing glory or the fabled golden orb, but most never return, those who do come back whisper of terror beyond words, their eyes hollow with the memory of what they saw, their bodies maimed and scarred, broken shells of their former selves.

The Monkey Devil, they say, is no mere creature, it is a force of nature, a curse upon the mountain, and a warning to all who would challenge it.

Amid this realm of fear and destruction stood a small, lonely house, untouched by the chaos.

Kakarot, a young Saiyan boy of about twelve, sat near a tranquil lake, catching his breath after a grueling day of training, his scouter beeped softly as he brought it to his eye, scanning himself. “A power level of 35,” he muttered, his brow furrowed. “It went up by one. Still not enough.”

Enough for what? He didn’t know for sure, he had a mission, but he wasn’t sure what it entailed to exactly.

The faint crackle of static broke the stillness as Kakarot's scouter blinked to life again, its red lens flashed warnings, numbers flickering across the display, three power levels, all pitifully low, yet steadily moving closer to his home.

Intruders.

Kakarot’s tail swayed behind him, a predator's instinct awakened, his senses sharpened as his lips curled into a snarl. For years, fools like these had come to his mountain, hoping to slay the so-called "Monkey Devil" and claim their glory, none had succeeded, and none ever would.

High above in the twisted canopy, the boy crouched, silent and unseen, as the trespassers neared his territory, through the scouter, their weak energies shimmered, dim, frail, and unworthy, pathetic fools whose death would come shortly.

The hunters crept cautiously, their boots crunching over brittle leaves and broken branches, they whispered to each other in hushed tones, their breath misting in the cold air.

“Do you think it’s real?” one muttered, clutching a worn rifle.

“Doesn’t matter,” said another, his voice shaking despite the bravado. “If we bring back its head, we’re legends.”

Their leader, a grizzled man with a scar running down his face, barked, “Quiet. Stay sharp. The beast doesn’t care for your chatter.”

Kakarot’s body moved with lethal grace, each step calculated, each motion soundless, he followed them from the shadows, leaping between twisted trees with inhuman precision. His dark eyes glinted with malice as he studied his prey.

One of the hunters paused, his head snapping toward the darkened forest. "Did you hear that?"

The others froze, the forest was silent, too silent, save for the faint rustle of leaves high above.

Then, a sudden rush of wind.

Before the man could scream, Kakarot dropped from the canopy, striking with the force of a thunderbolt, his fist shattered the man's chestplate, driving him into the dirt with a sickening crunch, the body went limp instantly, and the forest erupted into chaos.

“Ambush!” the leader roared, raising his weapon, but Kakarot was already moving.

The second hunter barely had time to lift his rifle before Kakarot's tail lashed out, coiling around his throat, with a violent twist, the sound of snapping bone echoed through the trees, the man’s neck twisted completely, killing him instantly.

The remaining hunter fired blindly, his bullets tearing into the trees. “Stay back!” he screamed, his hands trembling.

Kakarot advanced slowly, his aura menacing, he didn’t need to dodge, the man’s aim was wild, his fear overwhelming, with a single leap, Kakarot closed the distance, gripping the barrel of the rifle and crushing it like paper.

The hunter fell to his knees, his courage shattered. “Please… Have mercy!” he begged, dropping his ruined weapon.

Kakarot loomed over him, his face devoid of compassion, blood dripped from his hands, the blood of the man’s fallen comrades, this one, would have the same fate.

The man’s pleas turned to screams as Kakarot struck, his ferocity unleashed without restraint, when it was over, silence returned to Mount Paozu, the broken bodies of the intruders a grim warning to any who might follow.

Breathing deeply, Kakarot surveyed his handiwork, his tail flicking with satisfaction, these weaklings had no business being here. His territory remained unchallenged, his dominance absolute.

As he wiped the blood from his hands, Kakarot’s scouter beeped again, drawing his attention to a faint power level far off in the distance, this one was different, small, yet steady, and moving fast.

The rugged terrain of Mount Paozu stretched endlessly before Bulma, as her Capsule Corp car rumbled over broken paths and jagged rocks, every twist and turn seemed to lead her deeper into a realm untouched by civilization. The air here was thick, heavy with an unsettling quiet that gnawed at her nerves.

"Come on, Bulma," she muttered to herself, glancing at the radar clutched in her hand, the blinking dot on the screen teased her with its proximity. "It’s just another Dragon Ball, get in, get out, and you’re done, easy."

But it didn’t feel easy, the deeper she ventured, the more oppressive the landscape became, and her pulse quickened as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

"This place gives me the creeps," she whispered, her voice swallowed by the vast emptiness around her.

Unbeknownst to her, her instincts were right, as from the shadows, Kakarot crouched high in the trees, his eyes fixed on the strange intruder. The metallic contraption she rode hummed like an insect as it zipped through his territory, an unnatural disturbance that grated on his senses.

With a low growl, he leaped to another branch, his movements fluid and silent, his tail lashed behind him in irritation. This weakling, with her laughable power level of 2, dared to invade his domain? Her presence was an insult, and worse, she was heading straight for his home, and fast.

That was unacceptable.

Bulma’s unease deepened as she navigated the rugged trail, the radar beeped insistently, its sound unnervingly loud in the quiet wilderness, her stomach twisted with each passing moment. She couldn’t tell if the chill running down her spine was from the cold wind or something else entirely.

Suddenly, a shadow darted across her peripheral vision, she slammed the brakes, the car skidding to a halt as she whipped her head around. "Who's there?!" she shouted, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound brave, the only response was the rustling of leaves, as if the forest itself were mocking her.

She exhaled sharply, forcing a laugh. "Great, Bulma. Jumping at shadows now? Pull yourself together girl." She started her car again, but before she could regain her composure, her worst fear materialized, a blur of motion descended from above, landing with a heavy thud directly in her path.

Bulma’s heart leaped into her throat as she instinctively slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt mere feet from the figure that had appeared.

Standing before her was a boy, no, not just a boy. Something about him was wrong, his wild black hair framed a face that should have been youthful, but his intense, predatory eyes betrayed a primal ferocity that sent a shiver down her spine, a tail swayed behind him, its movements slow and deliberate, like a cobra ready to strike.

For a moment, they stared at one another in tense silence. The boy’s unyielding gaze bore into her, sharp and unrelenting, like a predator sizing up its prey.

Then, anger flared in Bulma, cutting through her fear. “Who the hell are you?!” she shouted, her voice trembling but defiant. “And where did you even come from?! You know I could’ve almost killed you, right?!”

The boy’s expression didn’t waver, his dark eyes stayed locked on her, unblinking and cold. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and commanding, each word laced with a quiet menace. “Why are you here?”

Bulma’s frustration boiled over, she threw her hands in the air, her earlier fear momentarily forgotten. “Why am I here?!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I should be asking YOU that! You just jumped out of nowhere like some wild animal! I could’ve gotten hurt, or worse, you could’ve wrecked my car! I don’t have a spare one you know!”

The boy tilted his head slightly, his tail flicking behind him, he didn’t respond, just stared at her with an almost unnerving stillness, his eyes narrowing. When he spoke again, his voice dropped even lower, each word like a stone dropping into an endless well. “I’ll ask one last time. Why. Are. You. Here?”

Something about his tone sent a chill racing down her spine, but Bulma was too wound up to back down now, she crossed her arms, meeting his gaze with a stubborn glare. “Fine, since you’re so curious!” she huffed. “I’m here looking for something important, okay? Something that’s going to change my life. But it’s none of your business, so why don’t you go back to whatever tree you climbed out of and let me through?”

Kakarot’s tail stopped moving, his eyes narrowed further, his patience thinning. This girl, with her ridiculous machine and laughable power level, dared to demand anything from him? Her audacity might have been amusing if it wasn’t so grating.

“You’re in my territory,” he said, stepping closer, his bare feet crunching against the dirt. “No one comes here unless they’re a fool trying to hunt me.”

Bulma blinked, her anger faltering as confusion took its place. “Hunting you? What are you even talking about?” she asked, her tone less fiery now, though still edged with irritation.

Kakarot didn’t answer, instead, his tail came into light, swaying behind him as his aura darkened, the movement was subtle, but to Bulma, it was like watching a storm gather on the horizon. The air grew heavier, colder, as an almost imperceptible growl rumbled in his chest.

It hit her all at once, the tail, the aura, the intensity of his gaze. Her blood turned to ice as realization dawned. “Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her legs felt weak beneath her as she took an involuntary step back. “You’re not… you’re not him, are you? The… the Monkey Devil?”

Kakarot didn’t smile, didn’t sneer, he simply stared at her, the faintest flicker of recognition in his eyes at the name. “Now you understand,” he said, his voice colder than before.

Bulma’s mind raced. Her heart pounded as she tried to make sense of the situation, she had stumbled into his domain, the domain of a living legend, the beast that had terrified countless hunters. And she’d yelled at him, mocked him.

Her fingers fumbled for the radar, her voice trembling as she spoke, her earlier bravado reduced to a desperate plea. “L-Look,” she stammered, “I didn’t mean to trespass, I’m just... just looking for something. That’s it. You can have whatever you want, just don’t hurt me!”

Kakarot’s eyes flicked to the strange device in her hands, the faint beeping catching his attention, his tail swayed slowly, his curiosity piqued despite his irritation. “What are you looking for?” he asked, his voice still cold but now tinged with intrigue.

Bulma hesitated, her instincts screaming at her not to reveal anything, but his gaze left no room for evasion, with a shaky hand, she reached into her bag and pulled out the two orange orbs, the faint glow of the Dragon Balls coming into view.

“These,” she said, holding them up like a shield. “I’m looking for these, they’re called Dragon Balls, and if you collect all seven, you can make a wish. Any wish.”

For the first time, something shifted in Kakarot’s expression, his eyes lingered on the Dragon Balls, recognition flickering in their depths, they looked just like the one Master Gohan had entrusted to him before he…

He shook off the thought, his focus returning to the trembling girl before him. “Any wish?” he repeated, his tone skeptical but intrigued.

“Yes! Any wish!” Bulma said quickly, sensing the slight change in his demeanor. “I’ll leave your mountain as soon as I get the one I’m looking for, just let me go, and you’ll never see me again. Deal?”

Kakarot didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingered on the Dragon Balls, then shifted back to Bulma. His tail flicked once more, a subtle but unmistakable sign of his agitation.

“You think you can just come here, in my domain, take what’s mine and leave?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “That one you’re looking for, it belongs to me, and I don’t give away what’s mine.”

Kakarot stepped closer, his every movement deliberate and unnervingly calm, despite his smaller stature, his presence loomed large, his eyes boring into Bulma’s as if he was peering straight into her soul, she could feel his aura pressing down on her, heavy and suffocating.

“You don’t belong here,” he said, his voice low and almost casual, yet brimming with menace, his tail swayed behind him, a predator’s rhythm. “Weaklings like you don’t deserve to have something so powerful, you’ll only waste it. So why don’t I just kill you now and take those Dragon Balls?”

Bulma’s breath hitched as his words settled over her like a death sentence, she stumbled back, her legs trembling, but her mind raced. Think, Bulma, think! This wasn’t just some wild animal she could scare off or some musclehead she could outsmart with gadgets, this was the Monkey Devil, and he wasn’t bluffing.

Still, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight, or at least without trying to talk her way out of this.

“Y-You could,” she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady as she clutched the Dragon Balls closer to her chest. “But if you did, you wouldn’t get your wish.”

Kakarot stopped, his head tilting slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his otherwise cold expression. “What are you talking about?”

Bulma swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze, her mind worked furiously, searching for an angle. “The Dragon Balls don’t just work on their own,” she said, injecting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster. “Even if you had all seven, you wouldn’t know what to do with them, you need someone like me to find them all and summon the dragon.”

He frowned, his tail twitching. “Summon the dragon? Do you think I am a fool?”

“No! Not at all!” she said, her voice firming as she latched onto her thread of hope. “Look, these things are ancient! You can’t just smash them together and make a wish, there’s a process. A secret phrase, and without my radar,” she added, holding up the device, “you won’t even be able to find the rest, you’ll just be wandering around forever, chasing a dream you’ll never reach.”

Kakarot’s eyes flicked to the radar in her hand, narrowing as he considered her words, her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she saw the hesitation in his stance.

“And besides,” she pressed, sensing an opening, “why fight me over one Dragon Ball when we can work together? You want a wish, don’t you? Fine. We’ll find the rest together, and when we’re done, we’ll both get what we want.” She crossed her arms, forcing a smirk despite her fear. “Or, you can keep acting like a caveman and blow your chance. Your call.”

Silence fell between them, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the wind, Kakarot stared at her, his expression unreadable, for a moment, Bulma thought she’d pushed too far, that her gamble had backfired.

But then, he stepped closer, his gaze piercing, she froze as he leaned closer to her, their faces mere inches apart. “You’ve got guts,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “But don’t think I’m stupid.”

Bulma barely managed to hold her ground, her knees threatening to buckle under his scrutiny.

“You’ll take me to the rest of the Dragon Balls,” he continued. “But don’t forget who’s in charge here.” His tail flicked, the fur bristling as he let his aura flare again, a sharp reminder of what he could do if she crossed him. “Try to trick me, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

As they began their climb up the hill, the oppressive atmosphere of Mount Paozu seemed to ease, if only slightly, the once-forbidden domain now had an unexpected visitor, though the air was still tense. Bulma's mind raced, a whirlwind of disbelief and unease.

As Kakarot entered his home, he didn’t glance back at her, but the door remained open, the silence from inside felt heavy, but there was no growl of protest or command to leave, she wondered if she should enter or just stay out, or maybe just leave, get out before she dies, but the beeping from her radar reminded her of her goal, and so, she steeled herself and strode in.

Crossing the threshold, the weight of his presence seemed to intensify, filling the small space like a storm cloud. The interior was stark but unexpectedly well-kept, every item meticulously placed as if this was the one sanctuary Kakarot truly valued.

Bulma’s eyes swept over the room, pausing on the array of weapons mounted on the walls, they were displayed like trophies, some still bearing dark stains that made her stomach churn. She couldn’t help but wonder who were the poor souls they had belonged to before.

Her gaze shifted to a set of yellow-and-black armor hanging separately. Unlike the weapons, it was pristine, as though it had been carefully maintained, it stood out, an object of clear importance.

“Wow…” she murmured under her breath. The rough exterior of the boy didn’t match the precision and order of his home, the place was quite immaculate, even if it had a bit of a spartanian design. "You have got quite the setup here."

She glanced at Kakarot, but his back remained turned, his silence heavy and unyielding, until he finally moved, he walked to the corner where his armor hung, reaching up to shift it aside. Behind it, displayed prominently, was a glowing orange orb with four red stars shimmering within.

“Is this it?” he asked, his voice low and steady, breaking the silence.

Bulma’s heart skipped, and her fear momentarily gave way to elation. “Yes! That’s it!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy. She rushed forward, her hand outstretched to grab the Dragon Ball.

Suddenly, her hand was hit as Kakarot’s tail snapped out like a whip, striking before she could even touch it. Bulma yelped in pain, clutching her stinging hand as she stumbled back. “Ow! What the hell was that for?!” she shouted, glaring at him, any fear being quickly replaced by anger, her courage flaring in the face of his unexpected hostility.

Kakarot turned, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. “This one stays with me,” he said firmly, his tail lashed once and swayed behind him. “I got it from someone I respected. I’m not gonna risk losing it when you inevitably die somewhere.”

Bulma blinked, the sharp sting in her hand a lingering reminder of his strength, her anger simmered just below the surface, but she couldn’t entirely ignore the weight in his tone. Whatever the Dragon Ball meant to him, it was clear he wasn’t going to part with it.

She sighed, rubbing her hand. “Alright, tough guy, you can keep it, just remember, we’ll need it when the time comes.”

Kakarot didn’t reply, instead, he turned toward the door, his voice cutting through the tense quiet. “Are you ready to get going or not?”

Bulma blinked at the abrupt shift, she imagined he would want some time to get ready, but it seems like he didn’t need anything. “Hurry much?” she muttered. “But sure, let’s get moving then.”

As she watched him stride toward the corner, he reached for his armor, lifting it with ease despite its bulky appearance, he put it on quite easily, the material expanding and meeting his body size perfectly. Grabbing the Dragon Ball, he tucked it securely into a pouch, he then grabbed a red pole and strapped it in his back, and then, almost mechanically, fixed a strange red-lensed device to his face.

Bulma’s curiosity got the better of her, she was apprehensive about it, but she gestured toward the device, tilting her head. “Okay, I’ve gotta ask, what’s that thing on your face? Some kind of fashion statement, or does it actually do something?”

Kakarot glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable. “It’s a scouter,” he replied curtly, adjusting the device. “It measures power levels.”

Bulma’s eyes lit up with interest, her pain and frustration momentarily forgotten. “Power levels? Like, how strong people are?” She stepped closer, examining it. “Where’d you even get something like that? Is it alien tech or something?”

Kakarot didn’t answer immediately, instead, he looked her over, his scouter emitting a faint beep as the lens flickered to life, his lip curled slightly into a mocking grin. “Two, that’s your power level, it is pathetic.”

Bulma’s cheeks flushed with indignation, she folded her arms tightly across her chest, glaring at him. “Oh, excuse me, not all of us are walking tanks! I’m not a warrior like you, alright? I use my brains, not my brawn!”

Kakarot raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, but she pressed on, her frustration fueling her words.

“Sure, I might be weak, but I’m not useless, just wait, you’ll see how resourceful I can be.” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “You’re lucky I’m here, without me, you wouldn’t even know about the Dragon Balls, let alone how to find them!”

Kakarot’s smirk didn’t fade, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, curiosity, maybe even a hint of respect, this woman, she was very bold for how weak she was, quite an interesting human. “To answer your question, this is saiyan technology.” He would humor her, maybe since she was supposedly so smart she might know about saiyans.

Bulma blinked, her irritation momentarily replaced by confusion. “Saiyan? What’s a Saiyan?”

Kakarot sighed, as if the question itself was beneath him, of course, no pathetic human would know. He spoke briskly, his voice tinged with disdain. “The Saiyans are a warrior race. Conquerors. We come from Planet Vegeta.”

Bulma tilted her head, her scientific curiosity kicking in. “Wait… Planet Vegeta? You mean like an alien? You’re not even from Earth?”

Kakarot crossed his arms, the faintest hint of amusement and pride playing at the corners of his mouth. “Obviously, I was sent here to conquer this planet.”

Bulma’s eyes widened, her initial fear returning in waves. “Conquer?!” she echoed, stepping back instinctively. “You’re here to take over the Earth?”

Kakarot shrugged, his tone flat. “I was told to survive, but, that is my mission, atleast I think so…” He trailed off, his expression darkening momentarily, before his focus snapped back to her. “Doesn’t matter, this planet’s weak, full of weaklings like you, hardly worth the trouble.”

Bulma picked up on it immediately, it wasn’t much, but there was something there, hesitation, doubt. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to keep her voice light, almost casual. “Well… if you’re not even sure about it, maybe you don’t have to, you know… kill everyone.” She chuckled nervously, though inside, her thoughts raced. What did I just get myself into? And what am I saying, I’m just gonna make him kill me first if I question him like this

Kakarot’s face snapped back into its usual scowl, his tail flicking sharply. “Shut up,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. “Don’t overstep, my business isn’t yours to question.”

Bulma winced, the sharpness of his tone cutting through her, she clamped her mouth shut, but her mind was still racing. If he wants to conquer us, I might just be handing him the way to do it in a silver platter with the Dragon Balls.

With his scowl still on, Kakarot walked past her and out the door, not bothering to glance back at his home or her, only stopping as a thought crossed his mind. “How far away are these Dragon Balls, if I have to walk with you… It might take an eternity.”

Bulma’s lips twitched into a small, triumphant smile. Finally, something I can impress him with. “Oh, don’t worry about that, we’re not walking.”

Before Kakarot could ask what she meant, she pulled a small capsule from her pocket and tossed it into the air, with a pop and a puff of smoke, a sleek car materialized before them. The sudden appearance of the vehicle made Kakarot tense, his tail bristling as he took a step back.

“What kind of magic is this?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing at the strange metal machine.

Bulma rolled her eyes and hopped into the driver’s seat, gesturing for him to follow. “It’s not magic, it’s science, this is called a car, you might’ve heard of them.”

Kakarot didn’t respond immediately, his gaze shifting between her and the car, after a moment of hesitation, he approached, his curiosity barely hidden behind his usual glare. Without a word, he climbed into the passenger seat, his movements cautious as if the machine might eat him.

Once he was settled, albeit stiffly, Bulma smirked, adjusting her seatbelt. “By the way, what’s your name, we need to get acquainted if we are gonna travel, mine is Bulma.” She proudly pointed at herself, the letters in her clothes displaying her name. “As you can see here, I’m the heiress of the Briefs family, you might’ve heard of us.” She closed her eyes and beamed in pride for her family.

Kakarot, however, could only read the Saiyan language, he squinted at the letters, attempting to decipher them. "Bumly? And are you talking about the briefs I use?"

Bulma's expression soured as irritation bubbled up, she can't believe this kid. "It's Bulma! Not Bumly! And no, it's not about those kinds of briefs! Do you not know how to read!"

Kakarot shrugged nonchalantly, entirely unbothered by her outburst. “I only know the Saiyan language,” he replied, his tone dismissive as if her irritation was beneath him, he crossed his arms and leaned back slightly, his tail flicking lazily against the car’s interior. “Whatever, Bumly. Let’s just get on with it.”

Bulma’s eye twitched, her fists clenching briefly at her sides, she opened her mouth, ready to correct him again, but stopped herself. “What’s even the point, fine, Bumly It is.” she let out a sharp sigh, throwing her hands up in exasperation, though she was still wary of the Saiyan, his antics were starting to irritate her more than scare her.

As they sped off, an air of apprehension hung between them, Bulma's heart raced, a knot of fear and worry tightening in her stomach, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just struck a deal with the devil, someone who might be even more dangerous than the adventure itself. What if he turns on me? What if he wishes to conquer the planet? And yet, there was something undeniably thrilling about the adventure she was about to head into.

Kakarot, in contrast, glanced at her with a spark of curiosity, her fiery spirit intrigued him. Most would cower in his presence, yet she faced him head-on, scared, yes, but unyielding, and somehow, she had forced him into a partnership he never imagined taking. There was something compelling about her resilience, something that made him think this might not be such a waste of time after all, this unorthodox partnership might just be worth his time.

Together, they were stepping into a world of danger and adventure, completely alien to both, in different ways, bringing start to an alliance that would end up shaping the universe itself.

Chapter Text

Kakarot glanced up, his scouter picked up a few lifeforms inside what seemed to be a bird, well, not exactly a bird, it had no power signature, he recognized it as another one of those metal machines, and though he didn’t know exactly what it was, he assumed they were after the same prey—the wolves he'd been tracking all morning. Without hesitation, he dashed forward, determined to reach the pack before these intruders could claim his meal.

His years of hunting by himself turned him into quite the expert, he could’ve killed the lone wolf cub he had found, but such a meal wouldn’t even come close to satisfying him, he preyed on it, eventually finding the location of the cub’s whole pack, and now, the hunt was on.

The wind rushed past him as he pushed ahead, but something about the metal bird sparked a memory of the day before. Bulma had been snatched up by a massive pterodactyl, the creature barely registered as a threat to him, but it swooped in unnoticed and took her while he wasn’t looking.

Bulma’s piercing screams had grated on his nerves, like nails on a chalkboard, it was just a dinosaur, one of hundreds he had already killed, yet, there she was, flailing helplessly in the beast's claws. Annoyed by her shrieking, Kakarot leaped into the air, his power pole in hand, and with one swift swing, he struck the pterodactyl square in the neck, killing it instantly.

As the pterodactyl's body fell, Kakarot’s eyes flicked down to Bulma, still tumbling helplessly through the air. He huffed in irritation, as he realized, she wouldn’t survive that fall. His body moved before his mind fully registered it, shooting down like a bullet, catching her just before she hit the ground.

An annoyed scowl tugged at his lips as he cradled her awkwardly in his arms. "You’re too weak, and you should pay more attention, I don’t want you holding me back.” his voice dripping with disdain, but with a hint of worry in them, she was still useful after all.

Kakarot shrugged these memories off as he reached his prey’s den, the metal bird now too far to even register, he had won, and as he stared down at the cub he had been following, his parents and their pack standing guard against him, a smirk crept across his face "Finally", he muttered, a decent fight to warm up, followed by a feast, his muscles tensed in anticipation, and with a burst of energy, he lunged forward. The hunt had begun.

Later, the Pilaf Gang would arrive to where they thought they would find a Dragon Ball, they were instead greeted by a grisly scene, the ground was stained with dark pools of blood, the remnants of what had once been a thriving wolves' den. Not a single body remained, only torn fur and shattered bones, they could only wonder at what monster could’ve done this.

As Kakarot neared their camp, the scent hit him first. It was strong, sharp, and unfamiliar, when he stepped inside, he saw Bulma freshly cleaned up, her hair neatly styled, she was wearing a long pink sweater, her pajamas, but to him, he could only focus on the overpowering fragrance she wore, it was impossible to ignore.

He wrinkled his nose, frowning slightly. "What’s that smell? It’s horrible! It’s too strong! What did you eat Bumly" he remarked bluntly, his face showing mild discomfort.

Bulma shot him a glare, hands on her hips. "It’s called perfume, you monkey boy! Ever heard of basic hygiene? And stop calling me Bumly!" she snapped, her irritation immediately flaring up.

Kakarot shrugged off her anger, clearly not seeing the big deal. "Whatever, you need to use something better then, look what I brought for us, you can have the cub if you want." he said, stepping aside to reveal the massive pile of wolves he’d hunted, their lifeless bodies stacked high, blood still fresh on their fur.

Bulma’s face turned ghostly pale at the sight, her mouth dropping open in shock. Before she could even react with words, her legs gave way, and she fainted right on the spot. Kakarot scratched his head, confused by her reaction. "What? It’s food." he muttered, genuinely bewildered.

He closed the door and left her there, shaking his head. What a weird girl, he thought, deciding to give it no further thought as he sat down to feast on the meal he had brought.

Once he finished it, Kakarot went right back to training, he started simple, crushing some boulders nearby, but as he picked one of them, it felt very weird compared to the other ones, and then, it started squirming.

“What? But I didn’t sense any power levels here!” Kakarot puzzled, activated his scouter, which beeped and displayed a pathetic power level of 0.5. “Well… that explains it. Get out of my sight before I decide to crush you after all.”

“Wait! Please! I beg you, help me get back to the sea! I’ve already been traveling for a whole year!” The turtle pleaded desperately, realizing that this ki was strong, just like Roshi. Maybe he could bring him to the ocean quickly enough.

Kakarot frowned, rolling his eyes at the turtle’s desperate plea. “Why should I help you? I’ve got better things to do than babysit a turtle.”

“Please! I can’t walk all the way back to the sea on my own!” The turtle pleaded, trying to keep his composure. “I’ll give you anything! Just a lift back home!”

Kakarot crossed his arms, unimpressed. “And what would I want with a turtle? You can’t even fight! You’re just a-”

“I may not be strong, but I know someone who is!” the turtle interrupted, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I’m friends with Master Roshi! He’s a legendary martial artist!”

Kakarot’s eyes now were wide open, Roshi, he knew that name, Gohan’s master, the strongest man on Earth, probably the only one that could actually challenge him in strength, or so he thought, he needed to see him.

“THE Master Roshi? Master of the Turtle School…” Kakarot started showing a vicious grin on his face, which terrified the turtle “I’ve been dreaming of the day I could challenge and kill him! This will be glorious, bring me to him now!”

The turtle’s eyes widened in alarm, his little heart racing. “Wait! What do you mean ‘challenge and kill him’? Master Roshi is a good guy! You can’t just go around saying things like that!”

Kakarot leaned closer, an eager gleam in his eye. “Why not? I want to see how strong he really is. If he’s as legendary as everyone says, it’ll be the fight of a lifetime!”

The turtle shook his head vigorously. “You don’t understand! He’s not just some opponent to crush. He’s a mentor, a friend! You can learn a lot from him if you just—”

Kakarot cut him off, his excitement bubbling over. “Learn? I’ve learned all I need from my training! This will be about testing my limits! If he’s as strong as everyone says, then it’ll be an epic battle!”

“Epic battle? You really think you can take him?” The turtle was genuinely worried now. “He’s not just a regular old man. He’s been training for over a century!”

Kakarot scoffed, flexing his arms. “What’s a century of training compared to the might of a Saiyan? Our potential is unlimited! Now stop stalling and take me to him!”

The turtle gulped, his instincts screaming at him to run. “Alright, alright! Just promise me you won’t hurt him!”

Kakarot waved his hand dismissively, a confident grin still plastered on his face. “No promises! But let’s get going already!” He rushed and grabbed the frightened turtle, running at sound breaking speeds towards the sea, he then felt like he was forgetting something… “Right! Bumly!” He dropped the confused turtle and rushed back

Kakarot burst through the door, nearly knocking it off its hinges. Bulma, still recovering from her earlier fainting spell, stumbled back, her eyes widening in shock. “Kakarot! What’s happening! Why did you-”

“Bumly!” he shouted, his voice filled with frenetic energy. “We need to go! Grab everything! We’re going to find Master Roshi!”

“W-What? Master who?” Bulma stammered, bewildered.

“Master Roshi! The legendary martial artist!” Kakarot exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “The turtle knows where he is! Hurry up! Get the Dragon Balls and your things and come!”

Bulma was just beyond confused, she followed the instructions, just gathering all her capsules, and her dragon balls, she left the car out, thinking they would use it, but before she could even fully process what was happening, Kakarot scooped her up in one arm and dashed back outside. “Good you got everything, we don’t have time to waste!”

“Wait! What! But what about the car?” she squeaked, clutching his neck as he sprinted.

“Forget that! I can run faster than any vehicle! And this is way more important” He raced through the open air, the ground shaking beneath him, he came across the confused turtle once again, grabbing it with his other arm, not even stopping his running “This is way more fun!”

The turtle squirmed, still trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events. “Uh, what is happening! I didn’t think you could carry me at this speed!”

Just hold on tight!” Kakarot laughed, the exhilaration pumping through him.

Bulma finally managed to regain her composure enough to yell, “Kakarot, slow down! At least tell me what’s going on!”

Kakarot glanced over at her, grinning from ear to ear. “I found this turtle who said he knows Master Roshi! I need to see how strong he is! I’ve been wanting to fight him for years! If I kill him no one can stand against me!”

“Wait, you found a talking turtle?” Bulma blinked, trying to wrap her head around it all “And what do you mean kill him!” With all his childish naivete, she almost forgot that she was travelling with a bloodthirsty alien bent on conquering this planet.

“Yeah! He wants to go back to the sea!” Kakarot said, his enthusiasm unwavering. “So we’re helping him! It’ll be great! And this Roshi, Gohan told me all about him, he was my master’s master, the strongest man on earth! Well, other than me of course!” He shinned a proud smile on his face, confident of his victory.

“Right, just great...” Bulma muttered, shaking her head in disbelief as they sped toward the ocean, the scenery blurring around them, she was also quite worried however, if this Master Roshi was truly so strong, this could end in either her defender being killed or Earth’s greatest warrior being decimated by this conqueror, she wasn’t sure which option was better really.

As they approached the beach, Kakarot set Bulma down, still bouncing on the balls of his feet. “See? Fun Right!” Bulma’s face didn’t convey the same emotion, her hair and clothes now a complete mess “Now, where’s Master Roshi?”

“Just wait a little longer, I have to bring him here, but… thank you kid, even if you are really scary, it would probably take decades for me to-”

“Just go! Bring him here!” Kakarot interrupted, practically vibrating with energy. “Our battle will be legendary!”

He started bouncing on his feet, stretching himself, his tail flicking excitedly behind him, his muscles bulged, and his hair stood even more spiked up than usual, electrified by the anticipation of the fight he had been waiting for.

The turtle nodded, nervously. “Alright, alright! Just give me a second!”

Kakarot could hardly contain himself as he watched the turtle shuffle off to the sea, his mind racing with thoughts of the legendary martial artist. “This is going to be awesome! I can’t wait to test my strength against him!”

Bulma, still trying to regain some semblance of her former composure, crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Are you even sure you can take him? Did you ever defeat your master? And this guy is even stronger than him!”

Kakarot turned to her, his enthusiasm now vanished, a serious look on his face “I killed my master.”

The air around them seemed to freeze as Bulma stared at him, momentarily speechless. “W-What? You... killed your master?!” Her voice rose in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock. “You’re joking, right?”

“No,” his tone flat, devoid of any of his usual bravado or the previous excitement he had. “It was four years ago, I thought I could finally show him my true strength and defeat him, I’d always avoided the full moon, but that night, anger took over, I believed I could control the Oozaru form.” He turned his gaze skyward, lost in the haunting memory. “I stared at the moon, thinking I could finally prove myself, instead, I lost all control... I killed him.”

A heavy silence hung between them, the weight of his words sinking in. “I never wanted to win that way, Gohan will always be the one enemy I will never truly defeat, I rampaged, blinded by fury, and didn’t properly fight him, I just let the form consume me. Until I can master that power, I won’t let myself use it again, it isn’t a way for a proud saiyan warrior to fight, we use it to conquer, the great saiyan warriors I read about, they controlled that beastly power to fight with all their might! I will be just like that, an elite!” His excitement began to return, the moment of vulnerability giving way to the pride that fueled him, ready for the upcoming fight.

Bulma teared up a little at the story, she didn’t expect to see such a side of this brash warrior she had been travelling with ““You really respected him, huh? Seems like you actually cared about a human.” she said in a soft and gentle tone, showing compassion for his story that had moved her, she was still just a teenager, such a dramatic story was captivating.

Kakarot glanced away, a mix of pride and sadness in his expression. “I guess... He was strong, and that’s what mattered. But in the end, he just wasn’t strong enough. I’ll get stronger than he ever was, starting by killing Roshi!” His rough exterior quickly reasserted itself, the vulnerability fading as his bravado took over.

Bulma shook her head gently. “Well, even if you win—”

“It’s not if, it’s when!” he interrupted, a fierce grin spreading across his face.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Okay, when you win, maybe show Roshi some mercy? I don’t think your master would want you to kill everyone, you don’t need to kill us all to conquer here, what would you even really be conquering then?”

That though, of not needing to kill to conquer, clashed with everything he’d learned from the Saiyans, but a small part of him found it made sense. Still, he couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. “Just drop it! Maybe he wouldn’t like it, but Gohan was always a softie, it was his undoing, I won’t let it be mine”

Bulma was worried, she could see a way to get to him, he intrigued her, but he also worried her, how strong could he get? Could he really kill them all? Would he kill her? They hadn’t been adventuring for long, but she had begun to feel a strange bond with him, she would hope he wouldn’t.

Just as the tension hung in the air, a figure appeared on the horizon, growing closer. A few moments later, it emerged onto the shore, revealing Master Roshi riding atop Turtle “Hey guys! Here he is!” Turtle spoke cheerfuly.

The old man waved joyfully, his trademark sunglasses glinting in the sunlight. “Hey there!” Roshi stepped off of Turtle, landing lightly on the sand next to the waiting duo. His gaze flicked between the two, his cheerful demeanor momentarily faltering as he sensed the tension crackling in the air, and the menacing aura from the boy.

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything! So, which one of you two younglings helped Turtle?” Master Roshi called out cheerfully as he approached, his gaze bouncing between Kakarot and Bulma, especially Bulma.

“I did!” Kakarot exclaimed, his energy bubbling over. “Now prepare yourself! I’m going to-”

“Thank you then! Turtle is a great friend. He told me you wanted a fight, but aren’t you interested in something else perhaps? I have this cloud it can-”

Kakarot’s patience snapped, without a second thought, he lunged forward, his fist barreling toward the old man with blinding speed. “Enough talk!” Kakarot roared. “Fight me!”

Roshi barely shifted, his body seemingly floating backward as Kakarot’s punch sliced through empty air, leaving Kakarot shocked, but the boy’s ferocity didn’t wane, he immediately followed up with a barrage of kicks and punches, each one fierce than the last, yet, every strike found only air as Roshi gracefully dodged with ease, his sandals barely making a mark on the shore.

Kakarot growled in frustration, his aura flaring up as he spun into a roundhouse kick, aiming for Roshi’s head, the old master ducked effortlessly, chuckling as Kakarot’s foot swished harmlessly overhead. “Whoa there! You’ve got a lot of spirit, I’ll give you that!” Roshi commented lightly, still keeping a carefree smile plastered on his face.

“Stop dodging!” Kakarot’s eyes burned with fury as he tried again, this time leaping high into the air, aiming a fierce downward punch at Roshi’s head. “I need to KILL YOU!” he screamed as his fist hurtled toward its target.

But Roshi was already gone.

Kakarot slammed into the sand, creating a small crater, confused by the old man’s immense speed, he started looking around, only to hear a voice right behind him. “Kill me? Well now, I can’t let you do that.”

Hearing that Kakarot got back to his feet, he spun around trying to hit the old man with his tail as he spun and then deliver a punch to him, Roshi continued dodging both “You are strong, I will give you that” Roshi said, adjusting his sunglasses calmly. “But strength without control or skill can only get you so far, you’re letting your anger take over.”

Kakarot panted heavily, sand swirling around him as his chest heaved. His fury only grew as he leaped back to his feet, not willing to give up. He charged again, pushing his body faster, harder, each strike wilder than the last. “I don’t need that! I need to kill you! I need POWER!”

Roshi’s smile faded slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing beneath his sunglasses as he continued to dodge. “I’ve seen warriors like you before, Kakarot, strong… but blinded by pride and anger. There’s always someone stronger, and if you can’t accept that, if you don’t learn to control yourself, you’ll meet the same end as them.”

Kakarot growled, his frustration boiling over, he threw one last, wild punch, pouring all his strength into it, Roshi’s hand moved like lightning, gently catching Kakarot’s fist mid-air, and for a moment, everything stopped.

"You’re not ready." His sunglasses slid down just enough to reveal sharp, piercing eyes, filled with wisdom and experience that outclassed Kakarot’s youthful rage, for a brief moment, the tension dissipated, the silence heavy as Kakarot stared in shock at the old man who had effortlessly nullified his attack.

Then, Roshi released Kakarot's fist and turned away, his back to him, he began to walk toward Turtle with deliberate, slow steps. "Listen to me, kid. You’ve got the potential to be one of the strongest, but all that anger… it’ll only lead you down a dark path, strength means nothing if you can’t keep your head clear."

Kakarot stood there, trembling with fury, his mind racing, Roshi’s dismissive tone and those words, it all felt like an insult, a rejection of his strength, of his pride, Roshi didn’t hit him, but he had wounded him, wounded his saiyan pride by humiliating him like this, he couldn’t accept that.

"I don’t need your damn lessons!" Kakarot spat, his rage flaring, his hand gripped his Power Pole, extending it rapidly as he charged at Roshi’s unguarded back, screaming, "I’m going to kill you!"

He extended the pole to it’s max, as he lifted it up just for it to come crashing down with all it’s might, aimed straight for Roshi’s skull, the strike was blindingly fast, but Roshi moved faster, he turned back to Kakarot and simply caught the power pole, a menacing look now on his face.

Kakarot's eyes widened in disbelief, he had poured everything into that strike, and yet… Roshi just caught it like it was nothing.

This time, however, the playful demeanor was gone, his sunglasses fell completely off his face, revealing eyes that were now cold and serious, glinting with intensity. "If you landed that you would’ve killed not only me but my friend Turtle, I didn’t want it to come to this." Roshi said, his voice lower, almost menacing now. "But if you insist on learning the hard way…"

Roshi stepped into a firm, grounded stance, his feet planting into the sand with the precision of a master martial artist. "Then I’ll have to teach you a lesson you won’t forget." He put his hands together, cupping them at his side, his eyes never left Kakarot, watching the boy as if gauging every move, every breath. A faint blue glow began to emanate from his palms.

"You want power?" Roshi asked, his tone dangerous. "I’ll show you power." The glow intensified as Roshi’s voice boomed with force. "Kaaaa... meeee... haaaa... meeee..." The old man’s body bulked up, he now seemed even stronger than before, Kakarot’s scouter blipped as he read Roshi’s power level at its max, 120, and the Kamehameha reaching absurd levels of over 400.

Roshi’s voice echoed across the shore as the Kamehameha charged, its energy radiating through the air. Kakarot stood frozen, his fists trembling as the wave of raw power crackled before him. He had never felt anything like it, this overwhelming force that could obliterate him in an instant.

“HAAAA!” the beam erupted from his hands, a bright blue wave of destructive energy rushing toward Kakarot with blinding speed, the ground trembled, sand whipped up in a storm around them, and for the first time in his life, Kakarot felt fear.

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the incoming blast, unable to move, his pride burning hotter than the Kamehameha, fueling his anger, how could this old man be so strong? Stronger than him? He, a Saiyan warrior! He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, cursing himself. I failed… I’ve failed the saiyans, my mission, my master, myself!. I'm nothing! He wanted to dodge, but the blast was coming at such immense speeds and he was already so tired, he was ready to accept his death.

And then, just as the Kamehameha was about to make contact, Roshi's hands flicked upwards, in an instant, the beam changed direction, spiraling straight into the sky, the deafening roar of energy faded as the Kamehameha soared into the clouds, leaving Kakarot standing there, his body trembling, with only slight scorch marks being left from the beam’s raw energy, as he looked in shock at the blast that would’ve evaporated him.

Roshi lowered his hands, his face calm but stern, his stance relaxed once more, as his body returned to it’s normal size. "I wasn’t going to kill you, kid," he said, his voice filled with the weight of experience. "But I needed to show you that power doesn’t come from brute force alone, there’s more to being a warrior than just strength, and that, the Kamehameha, shows how much you still need to learn, it took me decades to develop it, and those decades have created the gap of strength and skill that separates us."

Kakarot’s fists trembled as he processed the defeat, his mind swirling with anger, confusion, and disbelief. How did I lose? How could I lose to this old man? His Saiyan pride, so deeply ingrained, wouldn’t allow him to accept it, not without trying again.

Roshi, sensing the turmoil within Kakarot, shook his head slightly, his voice softened as he spoke, filled with both wisdom and empathy. “You have a lot of potential, Kakarot, but potential means nothing if you don’t have control over it and don’t know how to use it, power alone doesn’t make a warrior, wisdom, patience, and understanding do.”

Kakarot could hear his words, it made some sense to him, but he was also so blinded by rage, so moved by his own pride, he didn’t even reply, he needed to prove himself, this was his last chance to kill Roshi, and so, without warning, Kakarot cupped his hands, mimicking the old man’s movements. "Ka... me..." His voice rang out, startling Bulma, and even Roshi’s casual demeanor broke as he turned sharply, eyes widening in shock.

“What...? No way... He’s trying to do it... already?”

"Ha... me..." Kakarot continued, his hands glowing with an unstable, but rapidly building, energy, he focused everything he had, channeling all of his fury and desire to win into the attack.

Roshi's astonishment deepened, but it quickly gave way to concern. This kid... he might actually pull it off! He could feel the energy swelling in Kakarot’s palms, though rough and unfocused, it was becoming a true Kamehameha, there was no time to waste.

Roshi’s figure blurred, his speed so great that it seemed as though he’d disappeared, in the blink of an eye, he appeared beside Kakarot, striking the boy with a precise, swift blow to the back of the neck.

Kakarot’s eyes widened in shock, his energy instantly dissipating, his body went limp, crumpling forward as he fell unconscious, collapsing into the sand with a heavy thud. The fight was over.

Roshi stood over the boy, he let out a sigh, adjusting his sunglasses back onto his nose. “You almost did it, kid,” he muttered, half in admiration and half in caution. "But you’re far too reckless for your own good."

Bulma, who had been watching in stunned silence, rushed over, her eyes wide with concern as she kneeled beside Kakarot. "What... what was that? He almost did what you just did!" she gasped, still reeling from the shock.

Roshi nodded, his voice more composed now. "Yeah, he almost pulled off the Kamehameha after seeing it once. Remarkable, but also dangerous. His potential is immense... but if he doesn’t learn control, it’ll be his downfall.” He then turned to look at Bulma again, in the middle of the fight, he had almost forgotten such a beautiful woman was standing near.

Roshi's stern expression softened as he turned toward Bulma, his cheeks now flushing red “I must say, in all the excitement, I almost forgot there was such a beautiful lady nearby!”

Bulma rolled her eyes, not entirely surprised by the old man’s sudden change in tone. “Get away from me you creepy old geezer!” But as she shouted she noticed something on him, a dragon ball, her frustrations melted away the moment she spotted it“Hey, wait a minute,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Is that a Dragon Ball?”

Roshi blinked, momentarily confused before glancing down at the orb. “Oh, this? Yeah, I’ve had this old thing for a while now, why do you ask?”

“I need that!” Bulma exclaimed, her tone shifting from annoyance to excitement. “I’m collecting all seven!”

Roshi tilted his head curiously, but after the intense fight with Kakarot and sensing the tense situation they had endured, he shrugged, deciding not to question it too much. "Well, considering all the trouble you have of having to deal with that kid, you deserve it, here." He unclasped the cord and handed her the Dragon Ball with a gentle smile. "It’s yours."

Bulma grinned, taking the Dragon Ball eagerly. "Thanks! You don’t know how important this is."

Roshi chuckled, but his expression became more serious for a moment as he looked at Kakarot, still unconscious nearby. “That boy is dangerous, you know, are you sure it’s wise to keep traveling with him?”

Bulma paused, her fingers tracing the Dragon Ball as she considered his words. “Yeah, he’s... rough, to say the least,” she admitted. “But he’s been useful, he’s saved my life a few times, believe it or not, and, well... sometimes he’s not as bad as he acts. I think there’s more to him than just the tough guy routine.”

Roshi nodded thoughtfully. “I hope you’re right, just be careful, okay? There’s a lot of strength in him, but if he can’t control it, it could turn against him, and you.”

Bulma looked down with an apprehensive look on her face. “Maybe you’re right, but, don’t worry, I can handle myself, thanks again for the Dragon Ball.”

Roshi gave a final wave, his grin widening mischievously. “Take care of yourself, young lady, you’ve got a lot of adventures ahead of you. And, uh, if you ever need some… personal training or advice, my door’s always open!" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his cheeks flushing red. "You know, we could have a private lesson—just you and me!" He chuckled, clearly lost in his own fantasies.

Bulma groaned in disgust, her hand instinctively reaching for something to throw at him. “You creepy old geezer!” she shouted, but Roshi was already hopping onto Turtle's back.

Her eyes twitched as she watched the old man finally disappear into the distance, she sighed, exasperated by his antics, but her expression quickly shifted to one of concern as her gaze moved to Kakarot, still lying unconscious on the sand. She looked at him for a long moment, a deep worry creeping into her mind.

A mix of awe and worry churning inside her, his strength was incredible, but that raw power terrified her, she’d seen hints of something softer in him, but his unpredictable nature made her uneasy. Is it safe to stay near him? He’d saved her a few times already, but she couldn’t shake the fear that one day his power might spiral beyond anyone’s control.

Chapter Text

The night sky loomed dark and silent, save for the relentless sounds of destruction coming from the wasteland below. "Kame… hame…." Kakarot stood at the center of it all, his chest heaving, his armor stained with mud and blood, the ground torn apart, he had been training relentlessly ever since he woke up from his fight, if you can even call it that.

"Ha!" With a final shout, Kakarot unleashed the energy beam, its destructive force ripping through the landscape, the blast tore straight through a massive tree, shattering it into splinters before carving a gaping path of devastation through the forest.

Kakarot panted, exhausted but still, it wasn't enough "Not even close to what Roshi unleashed on me, pathetic! That blast… it felt like it could blow up a mountain, or even the moon." He clenched his fists, the memory of Roshi's Kamehameha still fresh in his mind, despite his relentless training and the destruction around him, it only served to remind him how far behind he truly was. "I need more... I need to be stronger."

But as he reflected on the event now, something else also tugged at him. Not the fight, but the way Bulma looked at him afterward, when he woke up, she had taken care of him, and her face, it was full of… worry. It was strange to him, unsettling even. He wasn't used to anyone caring for him, not since his master, Bulma's fiery attitude had made him expect toughness, maybe even indifference, yet in that moment, she had shown him a gentleness he hadn't anticipated, it lingered in his mind.

As he looked back to their house, Kakarot saw Bulma through the window, bathed in the soft glow of a lantern, as she read some weird magazine, it was already late, and he felt a pang of hunger gnaw at him, maybe he should go hunt something fresh to eat, something for her, too. Though he remembered with a frown how she had refused that cub he'd saved for her last time, humans could be so picky, but he figured he'd find something else.

Bulma tried to focus on her fashion magazine, but her mind kept wandering. She sat by the window, glancing at Kakarot as he trained. The destruction around them was unnerving, but what really scared her was his relentless determination and fury.

Roshi's lesson hadn't sunk in, at least, not the way the old man had hoped, his rage, his obsession with getting stronger, was overwhelming everything else. She sighed, glancing back at him again, maybe she should step in, try to help in some way. But how? What could she possibly say or do to make him listen?

He had, from the moment he woke up, been training non-stop, he hadn't even stopped to sleep, now that she thinks about it, had she ever even seen him get a proper night's rest? They had been traveling together for days, but in all that time, he hadn't taken a shower or allowed himself a moment to truly rest. He just hunted, ate, and trained, as if nothing else mattered. It wasn't normal, it wasn't healthy, that was no way to live.

But as she watched him fire yet another Kamehameha, she suddenly realized he was looking at her, flustered, she quickly averted her gaze, pretending to focus on the magazine in her lap. But when she glanced back a moment later, he was already walking into the remnants of the forest, likely off to hunt again.

As Bulma continued to flip through the pages of her magazine, her mind wandered back to Kakarot, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease about how tirelessly he trained, driven by something deep within him. Just then, the sound of rustling branches snapped her attention back to the window.

Moments later, Kakarot reappeared, his silhouette framed by the moonlight, as he walked into view, she could now see that he was dragging a massive T-rex's tail behind him, the sheer size of it making her eyes widen in surprise.

"Look what I brought back for us!" he exclaimed, a grin breaking through his exhaustion. "I tried to get the whole thing, but the Kamehameha is not really good for hunting, only the tail remained."

Bulma's mouth dropped open, both impressed and horrified. "You really brought that back for us?" She couldn't decide whether to be grateful, since she was getting hungry, or slightly repulsed by the sheer size of the tail. "I guess it's better than the last thing you tried to cook," she added, trying to maintain her composure.

As Kakarot dropped the massive T-rex tail onto the ground, he rubbed his hands together, excitement dancing in his eyes. "Well, come out here, I can roast it and leave some for you" he suggested, grinning widely at the thought of cooking it right there.

Bulma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "No, no, no! You always do that! You cook it over the dirt there, eat it all up, and then leave just a little bit for me! It's gross! It doesn't taste good! And I'm tired of it! Cut it up so that I can try to cook it for us properly."

Kakarot blinked, a bit taken aback by her passionate outburst. "But it's just meat! It's still good, right?"

"Not when it's covered in dirt and cooked over an open fire! Look, I appreciate your hunting skills, but I want to eat something that doesn't taste like badly cooked meat and looks dirty!" she exclaimed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "If you let me prepare it, I promise it'll taste way better!"

He was puzzled by her anger, quite frustrated too, seems like it's very hard to please this woman, at least she accepted his gift this time around, but with a simple shrug, he just accepted her demands, not quite sure how she could even start a fire inside their home, but if she said she could cook it, he was curious to see it.

As he finished slicing all the pieces of the tail, he brought them over to their house, but as he stood at the door, Bulma started looking at him up and down, her face turning into one of complete disgust, her nose scrunching up

"What?" Kakarot asked, puzzled by her reaction.

"Do you even realize how filthy you are?" she exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. "You're covered in mud, blood, and who knows what else! Don't expect I will let you come in here and eat looking like that!"

Kakarot looked down at himself, frowning. "But I was hunting! It's normal, right?"

"Normal for a caveman, maybe!" Bulma shot back, crossing her arms. "You need to clean yourself up first. I'm gonna take this meat, thank you" atleast he hadn't gotten dirt over the meat, but she would still wash it… just to be safe "As for you, when I say clean up, I mean go take a proper bath! Don't just go over to some waterfall again, you always come back smelling horrible still!"

Kakarot couldn't understand her, he brought something for her but here she was, shouting again, he was slowly becoming used to her fiery nature, but the two were constantly bickering "And what is this bath you keep talking about? If you want me to be clean, I can just go to the river near here"

Bulma threw her hands up in exasperation. "It's not just about being clean, Kakarot! A bath is…" She paused, struggling to find the words that could convey the concept of a bath to someone who had spent most of his life in the wild. "It's a proper way to wash yourself! You get to relax in warm water, not just splash around in a river."

Kakarot tilted his head, still puzzled. "But why does that matter? I feel fine."

Bulma sighed, trying to rein in her frustration. "Because, Kakarot, you need to smell good and look tidy! You can't just go around smelling like a wild animal, especially if we're going to be traveling together."

"Smell good?" he echoed, his confusion evident. "But I like my smell! It's the smell of a Warrior!"

"It's the smell of a filthy animal!" Bulma shot back, crossing her arms. "You keep your house tidy and clean, don't you? Why wouldn't you treat your body the same way?"

He blinked, not fully grasping her logic but starting to see her point. "I guess… that makes sense, then, take me to this bath!"

She looked at him, shocked "What do you mean? Go yourself! You can't possibly expect that I will… that I will…" She couldn't properly finish her sentence, the idea of taking a shower with someone else, she knew, for as ruthless as he was, he was still just such a naive child, but, even if it was just to teach him how to do it, it just felt so embarrassing "Alright, come, but you will keep your towel on! And don't try anything you hear!"

"But aren't I supposed to try to take a bath?" She could only facepalm at his naivete, but still, he followed her into the house, remaining oblivious to her hesitation. Once they reached the shower, Bulma stepped aside, allowing him to experience the water for himself. He stood under the stream, eyes wide with wonder as the warm water cascaded over him.

"See? Isn't this better than splashing around in a river?" she asked, trying to redirect her focus.

He nodded, still amazed. "I guess… this is… really relaxing." Kakarot could feel his muscles relax, his body which was always sore felt so relaxed, he had never experienced such a blissful thing.

Bulma found the scene amusing, he really had just completely exhausted his body, this must feel like heaven to him, but he had to actually start cleaning himself, with a sigh, she held out a bottle of shampoo. "Okay, now we use this stuff to wash your hair. Just a little bit"

Kakarot looked at the bottle with confusion. "My hair? What is that?! It looks so weird! Are you gonna make it fall? Make it white just like master's?" He was quite alarmed by the shampoo, not quite understanding that his hair also needed to be washed.

Bulma rolled her eyes, exasperated. "No! This is just gonna clean it. Calm down, just hold still!"

Kakarot jerked back, causing water to splash everywhere. "No! I can do it myself!" He flailed his arms, nearly losing his balance under the spray.

"Stop moving! You're making this harder than it has to be!" Bulma exclaimed, trying to keep a grip on him.

Kakarot shook his head vigorously, water and bubbles flying everywhere. "But my eyes! Are you trying to blind me?"

"No! I told you to stand still! Just keep them closed!" Bulma shouted as she wrestled with his hair, trying to tame the wild mane.

It was a fierce battle, but in the end, she managed to rinse his hair and clean it properly. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Kakarot blinked, looking more bewildered than ever. "I still don't understand why we did that."

"Just wait until you smell yourself later," Bulma said, grinning as she dried her hands, feeling accomplished.

Kakarot tilted his head, genuinely confused, but he shrugged it off. "Okay, what's next?"

"Now, I'll take care of your armor while you finish up in here." She turned to grab some soap. "Just wash your body with this. You will thank me later, trust me. You'll smell just like me."

"But I hate your smell! It's so strong!" He sniffed the soap, the scent so strong to him, but it did have the familiar odor of Bulma.

"Just do it already!" she insisted, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

He eyed the soap warily but finally sighed in resignation. "Fine" and with that, he turned back to the showerhead and squeezed a grotesque amount of soap into his hands, still unsure of what to do exactly.

As Bulma stepped out to clean his armor, she couldn't help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. Who would have thought that teaching a Saiyan how to take a bath would be such an adventure? This wild boy, with his untamed spirit and unique outlook on life, was starting to grow on her, such a strange one, brutal beyond belief and yet so naive, she couldn't help but smile at his antics.

After taking his first proper bath, Kakarot emerged looking like a completely different person, his wild, unruly hair was damp but somehow still managed to maintain its characteristic spikiness, glistening under the light, the mud and grime that had once bathed his skin had washed away.

The most notable change, however, was the scent that surrounded him. Gone was the earthy, musty odor of sweat and blood; instead, he now smelled faintly of the floral soap Bulma had insisted he use, the smell actually grew on him, and he felt quite relaxed, even if a bit uncomfortable after the whole experience.

As he stepped inside the kitchen, Bulma glanced up from her preparations, and her eyes widened in surprise before bursting into laughter.

"Look at you! You actually took a bath! You look adorable!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her amusement, her laughter rang through the kitchen, and Kakarot's cheeks flushed slightly, his facade of anger cracking.

"I'm not cute! I'm—" he began, trying to sound fierce, but the words came out a little too flustered, and he crossed his arms defensively.

Bulma smirked, leaning against the counter. "Oh, come on! Just admit it. You're starting to look like a real person instead of a wild animal!"

Kakarot huffed, turning his head away to hide his embarrassment, but he started to feel, a really strong scent coming from the fire machine Bulma was cooking on.

"What are you doing? What is that thing?" he asked, tilting his head as he watched her chop vegetables and stir the meat in the skillet. "Is all this really necessary just to cook a piece of a tail?"

Bulma glanced over, rolling her eyes playfully. "It's a stove, and yes, Kakarot! You can't just shove every piece of meat over a fire and call it a day!"

He furrowed his brow, genuinely confused. "But that's how I always did it. Isn't it enough?"

"Not at all!" she replied with a light laugh, the annoyance in her voice softened by the warmth of their earlier banter. "Cooking is an art, and you need the right flavors! Now, can you hand me the salt and pepper?"

Kakarot dug through the cabinet, finally pulling out the containers with a proud grin. "Salt and pepper? What are those for?"

She took the spices from him, a smile plastered on her face, eager to teach something to her wild companion "You sprinkle these on the meat to enhance the flavor, it's not just about cooking, it's about making it taste good!"

As she finished preparing the meal, Kakarot watched in fascination, leaning against the counter, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, it felt nice to share this space with her, he had grown quite comfortable around Bulma, he always had a rough time even being near humans, since all of them were either too scared of him or trying to kill him, not that he really made an effort, he was also trying to kill them all, it just felt… nice to be near her. Once she plated the food, she handed him a steaming piece. "Here, try this."

He took a cautious bite, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wow! This tastes amazing! How did you do that?"

Bulma smirked, pleased with his reaction. "That's the magic of cooking, Kakarot. There's more to it than just fire and meat."

He grinned, savoring every bite. "Wow! You never told me you were a magician Bumly!"

"I already… Oh forget it" Bulma gave up on correcting him, the look on his face as he was eating, she had never seen him smile like that, maybe that rough exterior of his was just accumulated stress from the constant training "Glad you're enjoying it, I told you I had many skills!" a playful smirk flashed across her face as she winked at him "After this just go and try to sleep a little, the next Dragon Ball is very close by here, we can probably get to it tomorrow!"

Kakarot hesitated, a reluctant look crossing his face. "Thanks, but I need to go train. I can't rest now, not until I can beat him!"

Bulma's smile faded as she watched him, she felt a knot of worry tighten in her stomach, memories of his ferocity during the battle with Roshi flashing through her mind. The way he had pushed himself to the brink, his relentless drive to improve, it was both impressive and concerning, she couldn't just let him wander off again. "Kakarot, wait," she said softly, concern edging her voice. "You can't keep pushing yourself like this, you need rest, it's not healthy."

"I have to go train," Kakarot declared, his voice firm. "I can't let someone like Roshi beat me again, I'll kill him next time!"

Bulma's eyes widened in shock. "You can't be serious! You really think you can just train non-stop and take down someone like him?" She stepped closer, anger flaring in her chest. "You'll end up killing yourself instead of him! You're already pushing yourself way too hard!"

Kakarot scowled, his brow furrowing. "I'm not going to back down! If I don't keep training, I'll never get stronger!"

"You didn't get anything from what Roshi said, did you?" she shot back, exasperation lacing her voice. "It's not just about strength, it's about control! You can't let your anger take over and make you a slave to your training! You need to find balance!"

His fists clenched at his sides, the heat of her words stinging him. "Don't bring up that old bastard's lessons like that! It feels like an insult!"

Bulma crossed her arms defiantly. "It's not an insult, Kakarot! It's the truth! You can't just grind away at your body like this, you need rest, you need to think!"

"I don't need to rest!" he snapped, frustration boiling over. "I don't need any of that! I just need to get stronger!"

"You're being reckless!" she yelled back, her voice rising. "You think training harder will solve everything, but it won't! You're not invincible, and you can't just brute force your way through every problem!"

Kakarot's anger surged, but deep down, he felt a flicker of doubt at himself after hearing her words. "I... I'll do what I want!" he retorted, but the defiance in his voice felt more fragile now.

Bulma could see a way to get to him, she calmed herself down slightly, maybe she had to speak his language. "Look, I know about this sort of stuff too okay, your muscles need to rest, if you want to grow, you have to balance your training with resting, because that is when you truly grow more, got it?"

Kakarot looked at her, his resolve wavering. "Fine," he muttered reluctantly. "I'll… I'll try to sleep."

A small smile spread across Bulma's face. "Good. Just promise me you won't jump into training the moment you wake up, okay?"

"Can't make that promise, what I can make, is a promise to never hear you again if this doesn't make me grow! You don't really understand me, I'm a saiyan, I need to win against Roshi one day." As he finished his sentence he entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him without another word.

Bulma lingered for a moment, a sense of unease creeping back in as she turned back to the kitchen, she couldn't shake the worry that clung to her like a shadow, hoping he would finally understand the importance of resting, and not end up destroying himself again, but for now, at least, he was resting, that felt like a win for her.

It was then she realized something, Kakarot was sleeping in the bedroom… the only bedroom they had, Bulma felt her cheeks flush a deep crimson as she realized the implications of that. "No, no, no," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "The sofa is pretty comfortable, and I'm not about to risk disturbing his sleep." She plopped herself down on the sofa, pulling a blanket over her as she tried to get comfortable, but the worry for Kakarot kept nagging at her mind.

The next day, Kakarot and Bulma were driving around their motorcycle, their car having been forgotten somewhere due to Kakarot's antics, but she didn't care much about that, the air between them had been very light ever since yesterday. he atmosphere between them felt lighter and more relaxed since yesterday. The wind whipped through their hair as they sped along the road, the atmosphere now felt like a true adventure, a sense of camaraderie had been developed between them.

That was mostly because their day started so well, her idea of resting to grow had worked better than she expected actually, Kakarot woke her up screaming with joy and pride, something about how she was right, he called her a genius and everything, apparently, his power level had risen by 5 up to a total of 40.

What really made her flustered and oddly happy was when he finally called her by her name instead of mispronouncing it. "Thank you, Bulma! If I continue like this, I'm gonna be unstoppable!" he shouted, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Hearing her name roll off his tongue felt like a victory, and it warmed her heart in a way she hadn't expected.

But as they continued riding, she spotted a village nearby, from her calculations, the dragon ball had to be in it or near it "Hey that village! That has to be where our next dragon ball is! Let's go and ask the villagers about it."

As they rode into the village, Bulma's confusion deepened. The streets were eerily silent, with no villagers in sight. "Where is everyone?" she muttered, scanning the surroundings for any signs of life. Had they stumbled into a ghost town?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Kakarot spoke up. "Nope, they're all here, hiding in their homes," he tapped his scouter, sensing quite a few power levels, none higher than 5, a hint of amusement in his voice. "All with pretty pathetic power levels."

Bulma frowned at his comments "Why would they be hiding?" she wondered aloud, a mix of concern and curiosity flooding her mind.

That was when Kakarot, growing impatient, let out a thunderous shout, "Get out of your houses before I blow this whole place up, you cowards! We're here for the Dragon Ball!" His voice echoed through the deserted streets.

Bulma looked at him in complete shock, she grabbed his arms trying to rein him in. "Kakarot, wait! You can't just threaten them like that!"

But as she spoke, the creaking of a door echoed through the stillness, and a farmer with a shotgun appeared, his expression a mix of fear and defiance. "Get out of our village!" he shouted, eyes darting between them, "You're with that shapeshifting monster, aren't you? We won't let you take our daughters!"

Kakarot stepped in front of Bulma, a grin spreading across his face as he cracked his knuckles. "Oh look, another bug for me to squash! It's been a while since I've had to kill your kind!" He radiated such a menacing aura, the farmer started trembling from it, but behind him came a little girl.

With wide eyes filled with innocence and fear. "Please don't hurt my daddy!" she whimpered, clutching a ragged teddy bear to her chest. The sight of her sent a jolt of realization through Bulma, making her heart clench.

"Kakarot stop! Just look at her… they're clearly going trough something here maybe we can help instead of attacking them." Bulma then tried to approach the farmer, with hands raised in a gesture of peace "Please mister, forgive my friend here, he's got a screw loose from living in a forest, we aren't a threat, I swear."

The farmer's eyes flicked between Bulma and Kakarot, his grip on the shotgun wavering, he hesitated, caught off guard by Bulma's unexpected compassion. "You… you're not with that shapeshifting monster?" he asked, his voice trembling as he glanced down at the little girl, who was still clinging to him tightly.

As the commotion was happening, some of the other villagers came out of their houses as well, looking at the scene unfolding before them.

Kakarot, felt confused by the sudden shift and was left disappointed by the fun that was taken from him, he crossed his arms and watched Bulma with irritation. "What is this shapeshifting monster you keep talking about? Is he strong?"

The farmer glanced at Kakarot, becoming alert again, as he still perceived him as a threat. "Stronger than anyone you've likely faced," he replied, his voice low. "His name is Oolong, he can change into anything he wants, instead of just one nightmare, we have to face many! And every time he comes here, he takes one of our daughters!" The farmer then looked at his daughter, he started tearing up "Just yesterday my worst fears came true, he came and demanded my daughter's hand in marriage! He said he would come pick her up today!"

Kakarot scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. "You're all just being cowards! Just face that monster and kill him!"

An older lady approached them "It's not that easy boy, Oolong is terrible, he is even bigger than these houses, you would just get trampled by him, he's stronger than anything you've ever seen before"

Kakarot started to get annoyed by that "None of you even know half of what I've seen before! I will wait here and challenge him when he comes, then I will prove how much of a coward you all are."

"Wait Kakarot, I don't doubt you can just evaporate that guy, but remember, he took these people's daughters, we have to save them!" Bulma pleaded with her companion, feeling moved by these villager's plight.

Kakarot shrugged, his irritation evident. "Why should I care? I'm here for the dragon ball not to go on a rescue mission."

Before Bulma could respond, the old lady stepped forward, her hands trembling slightly out of fear as she produced a gleaming orange sphere. "The Dragon Ball? Could it be this?" She held it up, the sun reflecting off its surface and casting a warm glow around them. "I might be willing to give you that, if you help us find our daughters, boy."

Kakarot's eyes widened in surprise, but anger at her demands. "I could also just take it from you, none of you can stop me anyway!"

Worry flickered in Bulma's chest, their day had been going so well, and for a moment, she had almost forgotten about the beast, the relentless fighter he could be, desperate to diffuse the tension, she quickly thought of a bargaining chip. "Do that, and I won't be cooking anything else for you!" she exclaimed, raising her voice just enough to capture his attention.

Kakarot paused, his expression faltering as he processed her words. "What? Never again?" Sure he could easily just go back to roasting meat on the campfire, but… her cooking from yesterday was so heavenly… "I guess… I guess I can help then…"

Bulma smiled, relief washing over her as she saw a flicker of cooperation in his eyes. "Thank you, Kakarot! We'll save those girls and get that Dragon Ball!"

"Fine," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "But if that shapeshifter shows up, I'm taking him down, no questions asked."

"That's the spirit!" Bulma encouraged, feeling a mix of pride on her skills to rein him in, but now, they had to come up with a plan, she looked over at Kakarot, and then to the farmer's daughter, they were of a similar height maybe she could… "Wait a second!" Her eyes lighting up with inspiration. "What if we use Kakarot as bait?"

"Use me? As bait? How?" Kakarot spoke, confusion etched across his face.

"It's simple really, you and his daughter are the same height, if you just dress like her, when oolong comes you can act like her and try to go with him to where he takes all the girls, then you kill him and rescue all of them!"

Kakarot recoiled, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?! You want me to dress like a girl? No way! I'm not doing that!"

"Come on, Kakarot! It's the perfect plan!" Bulma insisted, her tone persuasive. "You're strong enough to take him on, but we need to lure him out first. This is our best shot at getting the Dragon Ball and saving those girls!"

Kakarot crossed his arms defiantly, shaking his head. "That's ridiculous! I'm not some pretty princess!"

"Well then… I hope the taste of my food yesterday was good, since you're never going to taste anything like it again." She said in a teasing tone, a smirk plastered across her face, the knowledge that food could rein in Kakarot was amazing, she could now have power here.

"You wouldn't dare!" Kakarot tried to act threatening, but he was so desperate to not lose her cooking.

"Try me" She challenge smugly, her eyes beaming with mischief.

Kakarot couldn't risk it, he had to take this humiliating deal "Fine then…" He said defeatedly.

Bulma's grin widened. "Glad we could come to an understanding, now come, I will make you look like the most beautiful princess in the land!" she grabbed the reluctant Kakarot by his hand, leading him into the farmer's house. That whole interaction left the village speechless, such a wild beast tamed by that girl.

After several minutes of frantic searching and dressing, Kakarot emerged from the farmer's house, fully decked out in an extravagant, pink dress that went past his feet, adorned with a shiny tiara perched awkwardly atop his head, somehow managing to stay in place despite his scowl. His expression radiated anger as he barely contained himself.

"What is this?!" He said, his voice full of hatred. "I look-"

He was cutoff by Bulma "Now, now, remember what I said, make the voice higher, you speak all gruff and tough like that and he will catch on in a moment."

Kakarot sighed, his cheeks flushing red at this humiliation "I look ridiculous" He now finished, in a significantly higher tone, making the villagers have to stifle their laughter at the absurdity of this situation. "If any of you dare to laugh at me I will blow you all up, you hear me!" that was enough to shut all of them up.

Bulma stood nearby, barely containing her amusement. She clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Oh stop that, you look absolutely adorable!" She took a step back, admiring her handiwork. "The perfect bait for that monster!"

"Yeah, right!" Kakarot snapped back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll be the perfect laughingstock! Not even a saiyan princess dresses like this… probably" He took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging storm of humiliation within him. "This better work, Bulma. If it doesn't, I swear-"

Bulma waved a dismissive hand, still grinning. "Oh, it will! Just trust me! Now, go stand over there where Oolong can see you! Just remember, keep up the act until he can get you to where the girls are, then, you can deal with him whatever way you want."

Kakarot's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and rage. "Oh, I will deal with him alright!" A vicious grin spread across his face, and his fists clenched at his sides. The thought of unleashing his pent-up anger on this shapeshifting monster was exhilarating. He might be dressed as a girl, but once he got his hands on Oolong, there would be no mercy.

"Just make sure to keep that pretty little smile on your face, princess!" Bulma teased, giving him a playful nudge before stepping back to observe the unfolding drama.

Kakarot shot her a glare, but as the door closed, he went to the meeting spot and planted his feet firmly, just waiting for the opportunity to meet the monster.

Suddenly, he could hear the monster's loud footsteps, then a shadow loomed over him, and Kakarot peered up to see Oolong in his giant red oni form, the sight was ridiculous, the monster wore a pristine white tuxedo and held a lavish bouquet of flowers, he just couldn't believe that this was the pathetic being they were fearing.

"Ah, there you are, my beautiful bride!" Oolong exclaimed, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "You look absolutely stunning! Though you do look a little different, did you cut your hair maybe?"

Kakarot's stomach turned, his mind racing to suppress the urge to lash out, instead, he forced himself to play along. "T-Thank you, I did cut my hair, maybe I gained a little bit of weight too… I hope you don't comment too much on my appearance…" he stuttered, trying his best to mimic the shy demeanor Bulma had suggested.

Bulma was pumped up, that was so smart from Kakarot, maybe her plan would work out after all.

Oolong chuckled, his eyes gleaming with delight. "Oh no, no, I'm sorry, you look beautiful, I'm so glad you're here. I've been waiting for this moment! I'll take you away to my lair, and then we can have the most magnificent wedding!"

As the giant oni took a step closer, Kakarot gritted his teeth, the rage simmering just below the surface, Bulma's words echoed in his mind: Keep up the act until he can get you to where the girls are.

"Lead the way, Oolong," he said, forcing a sweet smile that felt foreign on his face. "I can't wait to see where you live!"

Oolong beamed, clearly pleased by Kakarot's compliance. "Oh, you're going to love it! It's filled with treasures and delights beyond your wildest dreams!" He gestured as he turned, leading Kakarot away from the villagers' watchful eyes.

As they walked, Kakarot felt anticipation rising on him, but he steeled himself. He was a Saiyan warrior, and soon enough, he would unleash his true power on this pathetic shapeshifter, just a little further, he told himself, just wait until the moment is right.

As Kakarot followed Oolong into the lair, he was struck by what he saw, all the girls instantly swarmed them, each one demanding something different from oolong, the monster was quickly cornered as he had to take in all of their demands, this almost felt like he was the one being taken captive instead of the other way around, Kakarot couldn't believe this was the big threat, but the biggest surprise was yet to come.

As oolong was hearing all the girls, there was suddenly a cloud of smoke, and from it, appeared a pig, this was oolong's true form, a small, pathetic pig, this actually angered Kakarot even more, this wasn't even gonna be a challenge, this guy was a fraud to the very end, kakarot's rage was boiling over.

He couldn't remove his disguise, he would have to fight like this, as his tail ripped his dress and his muscles bulged, resulting in his tiara falling, all attention was drawn to him, realization dawning on Oolong, but it was too late.

With a roar of anger, Kakarot lunged forward, his fist connecting with Oolong's jaw in a sickening crunch. Oolong screamed, blood spraying from his mouth as his head snapped back. Kakarot didn't let up, he rained down punch after punch, each one more powerful than the last. "You're nothing but a coward! Do you know the humiliation I had to face!" Kakarot continued to unleash his anger, the girls stared at this brutality in shock and fear, Oolong being more resilient than expected, unfortunately for him, as he could only scream in pain "I… I lost, I lost that fight, I trained so much everyday and yet I still lost! Do you know how that feels! To have your pride completely shattered!" But there was no answer anymore, the pig was already dead, a lifeless body now left unrecognizable, Kakarot's dress stained red, he was unleashing all the pent-up anger, not from this humiliation, from his defeat.

Kakarot stood over the remnants of Oolong, adrenaline coursing through his veins, but there was no rush of victory, he just felt a hollow emptiness inside, an insatiable rage bubbling just beneath the surface, the thrill of the fight, of unleashing his anger, it didn't bring him satisfaction, instead, it only magnified his anger, anger at Roshi, and a deeper, more profound anger… at himself.

The girls now looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, their expressions a mix of shock and sorrow. They had witnessed the fall of their captor, but instead of feeling relief, all they felt was dread, they began to step back, instinctively distancing themselves from him. "You killed him," one girl said, her voice shaking. "You just killed him so brutally."

Kakarot barely acknowledged their fear, annoyed at their ungratefulness. "He was a coward!" he snapped, his voice edged with frustration. "He took you captive, he terrorized your village! You should be grateful!"

But their faces remained pale, filled with dread rather than gratitude, they whispered among themselves, casting glances at him, as if he was the monster. Kakarot clenched his fists, feeling the heat of their judgment wash over him, he had just saved them, yet all they could do was recoil at his display of power, humans really were pathetic.

Or maybe, he did do too much, he had killed many before, many who threatened him, but Oolong, he wasn't a real threat, he was a coward, hiding behind his transformations to terrorize the people of that village, people who Kakarot himself would've terrorized in order to get that Dragon Ball, as he looked over at Oolong, his body a pile of blood on the floor, unrecognizable, Kakarot felt confused, he did what was right, he killed a weak coward and got the Dragon Ball for him and Bulma, but, why did it feel wrong then?

Ignoring the tremors of unease, Kakarot's focus shifted to the girls, who stood huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling, their expressions were a mix of fear and disbelief, and for a moment, he felt a flicker of hesitation, but the annoyance bubbled back up within him, he couldn't afford to dwell on their fear or his own doubts. they had to return to the village he had a mission to complete.

With a grunt, he marched toward them, muscles tense and ready for confrontation. "You're coming with me," he declared, his tone brooking no argument, without waiting for a response, he reached out, grabbing the nearest girl by the arm and hoisting her up effortlessly, she yelped in surprise, her eyes wide with terror.

"Wait! What are you doing?" she cried, panic rising in her voice as Kakarot proceeded to gather the rest, snatching them up one by one, the girls struggled against his grip, but their protests fell on deaf ears, Kakarot's patience was wearing thin, he didn't have time for their resistance.

"Stop squirming! I'm not gonna kill you too!" he snapped. He didn't care about their safety right now, he wanted to be done with this and return to Bulma to get the Dragon Ball.

When he finally approached the village, he saw Bulma, she was waiting for him at the entrance of the village, her smile bright and welcoming. "You're back! I was getting worried-" Her voice faltered as she took in the sight of him, his hands and clothes were stained with blood, remnants of his brutal encounter with Oolong, but more alarming was the look in Kakarot's eyes, a mix of anger, confusion, and something darker.

The villagers, having noticed Kakarot's grim arrival, rushed towards him, their expressions shifting from curiosity to alarm, they quickly surrounded the girls, separating them from Kakarot as they began to question him.

"What happened?" one villager shouted, eyes darting between Kakarot and the frightened girls. "Did he hurt you?" the farmer with a shotgun rushed to Kakarot "What did you do to them you monster!"

Bulma's heart sank as she noticed the girls' traumatized expressions. Their faces were pale, eyes wide with fear, and they trembled as the villagers tried to comfort them. the contrast between Kakarot's fierce demeanor and the girls' vulnerability sent a chill down her spine, but she had to step in to defend Kakarot, he had to kill that Oolong, right?

She stepped forward, raising her hands in a manner to try and calm them down. "Wait! Everyone, just calm down!" Bulma's voice was steady, but her heart raced. "Kakarot didn't hurt them, he saved them from Oolong! Remember he was a beast, he probably had to fight him!"

"Not really." Kakarot said coldly, earning him a shocked glare from Bulma. "He was weak, and a coward, just a small pig that hid behind his transformations, I unleashed all the anger I had on him… I still feel angry… But I did what you asked, the girls are here, now hand over the ball so we can just leave already."

Bulma felt a mix of shock and confusion wash over her, she understood Kakarot's nature, she knew how angry he was, not just about having to wear that ridiculous dress, but at himself for his defeat against Roshi, the weight of his rage and frustration hung heavily in the air, and she could sense his pent-up anger, the darkness simmering beneath the surface.

"Kakarot…" Bulma began, trying to find the right words, he was her friend, her companion, she had to defend him here. "You did what you had to do, Oolong was a threat to everyone here." She turned her gaze to the villagers, who were still watching with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. "Please, just give us the Dragon Ball, and we'll leave."

One villager stepped forward, still clutching his shotgun. "What's to stop him from turning on us next? He killed Oolong right in front those girls and completely traumatized them! And he threatened us earlier! What's to say he won't take more than just the Dragon Balls!"

Bulma grit her teeth, she was so used to Kakarot's antics, that she had already forgotten how he threatened that old lady earlier. "I promise you, he's not a threat to you," She replied, her voice firm. "Kakarot doesn't want to hurt anyone here. He's just—"

"Frustrated," Kakarot interrupted, his voice low and strained. "I'm tired of this, I just want to go back Bulma."

Bulma turned to Kakarot, who stood rigid, his expression unreadable. "We can leave now," she said softly, hoping to ease his frustration. "Just a little cooperation from them, and we're out of here."

With a heavy sigh, the farmer stepped back, glancing around at the villagers, who still looked unsure. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "But leave this village, and never come back."

Those words hit Bulma like a truck, such hatred and vitriol, but really, Kakarot didn't do anything too wrong, Oolong was a pervert, if he had just killed him somewhere else instead of in front of the girls, but she watched as the villagers moved to retrieve the Dragon Ball, Bulma turned to Kakarot, trying to gauge his mood. "I know you're angry, but let's not let it consume you, we can move on from this. You didn't do anything too wrong, you just needed to control yourself a little."

Kakarot's brow furrowed, his eyes darkening with frustration. "Control myself? They should be grateful I got rid of that coward!" His voice was tense, each word punctuated by his lingering rage. "Oolong was weak, he was a pest hiding behind tricks and lies, I did everyone a favor."

"Maybe so," Bulma conceded, "but it's how you did it that's the problem, it scared them, Kakarot, they're not seeing the bigger picture, all they see is the blood and fear."

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, the tension radiating from him like a storm. "I don't care what they think, I did it to get the Dragon Ball and help you, that's all that matters."

Bulma took a step closer, her heart aching for him. She gently reached out and placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it softly. "I know, and I thank you for it." her voice filled with warmth. Simple words, but one that the angry warrior needed to hear, some appreciation and reassurance.

Kakarot's expression softened, the storm within him quieting as her words resonated, he looked down at her hand on his arm, feeling a wave of relief wash over him, the intensity of his earlier rage beginning to fade just a little bit.

Their moment was gently interrupted as the villagers, still cautious but less hostile, approached with the Dragon Ball. The farmer with a shotgun stepped forward, his expression now one of resignation mixed with respect. "Here," he said, handing over the shimmering sphere. "Just take it and leave in peace."

Kakarot accepted the Dragon Ball, his grip firm as he held it in his hand, he felt a sense of accomplishment, the earlier turmoil beginning to feel like a distant memory.

"Thank you," Bulma said to the villagers, her tone sincere. "We appreciate your understanding."

With the Dragon Ball securely in Kakarot's possession, he turned to Bulma. "Let's go," he said, a hint of determination and his usual bravado returning to his voice.

As tense as the situation was, Bulma looked at him, and laughed a little. "Well, I don't believe you will want to keep the fit right?"

Kakarot looked down, he had completely forgotten he was still wearing that dress, without another word, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward the village, his mind set on retrieving his armor, power pole, and scouter. The villagers watched him go, some with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment, but Kakarot didn't care, he was determined to return to his proper attire.

As he returned, Bulma grinned at the sight of him. "There's the Kakarot I know!" she teased, her eyes sparkling with delight.

He shrugged. "It's not like I chose to wear that thing," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"True, but you wore it pretty well," Bulma said, her tone playful. "You could have started a new trend!"

Kakarot rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. With the tension from earlier fading into the background, he felt lighter. They hopped back on the motorcycle, ready to move on to the next Dragon Ball.

Chapter Text

Bulma lay comfortably stretched out on the boat's deck, a pair of sunglasses resting on her nose, flipping through the pages of a magazine. She looked perfectly at ease, the picture of relaxation, with one leg crossed over the other as the sun bathed her skin, amidst the gentle sound of water flowing.

In stark contrast, Kakarot was anything but relaxed, he stood at the back of the boat, muscles bulging as he pushed with all his might, using his tail as a propeller to keep them moving, the boat had stalled as they sailed across the river, and he had taken matters into his own hands, quite literally.

"Man, I gotta hand it to you," Bulma said lazily, peeking over at her companion with a smirk. "You're really good at this whole ‘boat engine’ thing, who needs repairs when we’ve got you?"

Kakarot grunted, focused on keeping their speed steady. “This can serve as a good warmup, at least.”

Bulma chuckled “Only you could be crazy enough to see this as a warmup, remember to relax later, okay?” she went back to her magazine, “I like this setup we got, I can handle this just fine!”

Their motorcycle rode across the sand, leaving clouds of sand behind it, the intense heat radiating off the desert floor, and Bulma’s earlier confidence now long gone, replaced by utter exhaustion. “I can’t handle this anymore!” she wailed, completely dehydrated and worn out, she stopped their motorcycle to an abrupt stop, slumping over, barely able to keep herself upright.

“What’s wrong, Bulma? This isn’t that bad,” he said, genuinely confused, his Saiyan resilience and the fact he was just way more used to harsh environments made him not feel too bothered by the desert’s heat.

Bulma shot him a glare through tired eyes, her parched lips barely moving. "Not bad... for you maybe!" she groaned as she tried to fan herself weakly. "But I'm human, and this desert is going to kill me!"

Kakarot let out an annoyed sigh, crossing his arms as he looked at her pathetic visage as she remained slumped over in exhaustion. “You really need to toughen up, Bulma,” he said, his tone laced with mild frustration.

Bulma shot him another glare, though it lacked the usual fire she could muster. “Toughen up? Kakarot, I’m not some super powerful alien like you! I don’t have endless stamina, okay?” She wiped her forehead, clearly on the verge of a meltdown. “This heat is unbearable!”

Kakarot shrugged, unfazed by the scorching desert. “Yeah, well, we’ve got a long way to go, and we can’t stop every time you feel tired.”

Bulma groaned in exasperation, slumping further down the motorcycle. "Easy for you to say... you're basically invincible..."

Kakarot rolled his eyes but softened slightly, realizing that Bulma had been pushing herself more than he’d initially thought, maybe he could help her, so, without a word, he stepped over to her, gently picking her up from the motorcycle as if she weighed nothing.

Bulma blinked in surprise, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "W-Wait, what are you doing?" she stammered, utterly confused as he hoisted her onto his back.

“You’re too tired to do anything properly.” Kakarot said simply, adjusting her so she was secure. “And we need to keep moving.”

Bulma opened her mouth to protest, but the truth was, she really was too exhausted, her body practically melted into his, the warmth of his back surprisingly comforting, she sighed and pocketed the motorcycle back into its capsule with a tired flick of her wrist.

"Alright... fine," she mumbled, resting her head against his shoulder, she was too tired to complain, and honestly, it actually felt… nice. “But don’t think this means I’m lazy or anything…” she muttered, half-heartedly.

Kakarot smirked, his pace steady and fast as he carried her forward through the desert. "I didn’t say that, just hurry up and rest so you don’t slow us down later," he said, though there was no bite in his tone. “Remember, you need to rest to grow, right.”

Bulma chuckled softly “How cute, you’re actually listening to me!” She closed her eyes, giving a small, contented smile despite everything, the heat, the desert, it all faded into the background as Kakarot carried her forward, the steady rhythm of his steps lulling her into a calm and warmth she hadn’t expected, she felt safe, and with that she dozed off to sleep.

Kakarot glanced back over his shoulder, catching sight of Bulma’s peaceful face resting against him, a small, unexpected smile appearing onto his lips as he felt her warmth against his back.

He had never been one to care about others like this, to care about their wellbeing and safety, but seeing her like this, so at ease, stirred something within him, the steady rise and fall of her breaths soothed his own heart, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered by the vulnerability she showed in her sleep, her face looking so…

His train of though was interrupted however, his scouter beeped, a power level of 9 was a little ways away from here, it didn’t worry him but… Bulma… if this were to be a bandit or something it could pose a threat to her, he quickened his pace, trying to not overdo it so as to not disturb her sleep, his scouter fixed on that power level.

Yamcha squinted through the binoculars, his heart racing as he watched Bulma, such an amazing beauty was rare to see, and looking at her made him feel so… afraid, he didn’t know how to talk to girls! He couldn’t even dare to get near these two, but the scene also made him feel something else, as he watched Kakarot soar at great speeds through the desert, he misunderstood their situation. “It looks like he’s kidnapping her!”

Puar, perched on Yamcha’s shoulder, looked through the binoculars with a puzzled expression. “Yamcha, are you sure? It looks like she’s just sleeping. Maybe they’re friends.”

“No way!” Yamcha insisted, his determination spiking. “That’s exactly what a kidnapper would want you to think! We might be bandits but even we wouldn’t stoop so low! have to save her!” He adjusted the binoculars again, focusing intently on the pair. “Look at that! He’s too rough, and she’s so helpless! So… Beautiful…” he started trailing off.

Puar raised an eyebrow at Yamcha’s momentary lapse, noticing the way his friend was entranced by the sight of that woman. “Uhm… Yamcha?... You okay?”

Yamcha snapped back to reality, shaking his head vigorously. “Right! Right! That girl needs our help!” He pointed dramatically towards Kakarot and Bulma. “We can’t just sit by as such a beautiful girl is taken by that brute!”

Puar looked worried at his friend, they might just be going into a misunderstanding, and Yamcha couldn’t handle girls, it would be much easier to just rob them blind like they always do, but the shapeshifter cat couldn’t argue against Yamcha, as he transformed into a motorcycle and the two sped off to catch their targets.

Kakarot had been keeping a close watch on the scouter, his brow furrowing as he tracked the power level approaching them, that same level of 9, it was weak compared to him, but at the speeds it was approaching, it was likely on one of those machines, it will catch up to him. And as that power level drew closer, he felt a sense of urgency, tightening his grip on Bulma to ensure she wouldn’t wake up from any potential confrontation, he wasn’t worried about himself, but worried about her safety.

Yamcha's heart surged with a mix of excitement and anxiety. “I can’t believe I’m about to save such a beautiful girl!” he exclaimed, his eyes locked onto the figure of Kakarot, still carrying Bulma on his back. “That guy looks like trouble, but I won’t let him get away with this!” His dreams of heroism completely blinding him.

Puar still felt worried, for some reason… this felt like they were going into an incredible danger, he squinted at Kakarot, noticing the subtle intensity in his stance, there was something about the boy that felt differen, an aura, perhaps, that hinted at a strength beyond what he should have. “Yamcha, I really think we should-”

The pair was then shocked, they thought they would be able to get near and sneak attack the boy, but as they got closer, the boy stopped, and just stood there, menacingly, he somehow knew exactly where they were and was shooting a deadly glare that scared Puar straight, it even made Yamcha feel a little uneasy “What the—?” he stammered, thrown off balance by the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Now that he stood still, the bandit duo managed to reach him quite quickly, now within earshot of Kakarot. “If you know what’s good for you, leave now, I’m not scared of killing.” he called out, his voice low and menacing, laced with danger. He scanned them, he hadn’t expected two people, but now that they were close his scouter could actually pick two power levels, an absurdly low reading of 0.5 from… the motorcycle? It did look strange.. Almost like it had eyes.

Yamcha felt his aura raging, it shook him to his core, but he was not one to back down, he stepped forward, trying to maintain an air of confidence despite the unease creeping into his gut. “You think you can intimidate me with such empty threats?” he shot back, though his voice wavered slightly. “I won’t let you kidnap such an innocent woman!”

Puar, now detransformed, was now perched on Yamcha’s shoulder, as he whispered urgently, “Yamcha, maybe we should just leave them alone, he seems serious!”

But Yamcha was too caught up in the moment, fueled by a mix of bravado and his fixation on Bulma. “You’re not taking her anywhere!” He gestured dramatically, trying to emphasize his point but only drawing Kakarot's irritation further.

Kakarot looked at the cat, that poof as he detransformed, it was just like Oolong, the memories of those events making his rage bubble up more, “You a friend of Oolong? That technique of yours… it disgusts me, just so you know, I killed Oolong, he was a coward, seem like you are one too.”

Puar turned a ghostly white, “Y…you… killed Oolong? He… he was a bully but… he didn’t deserve to die…”

Yamcha looked at his friend with worry. “Stand back Puar, this will get nasty! I told you this guy was up to no good!”

Kakarot frowned, irritation flaring within him, as he was still holding Bulma securely on his back, he felt a surge of protectiveness, overshadowing any desire he would usually have of just rushing in for the kill, he couldn’t do that with her sleeping so peacefully, this guy was getting on his nerves, I’m not kidnaping her! She’s just tired!” His voice was exasperated, the underlying frustration with Yamcha’s misunderstanding evident. He wasn’t used to having to defuse these situations, he was often the one escalating them, it seems even as he tried to keep them from fighting by using those threats, but it only invited conflict, he would have to find a way to win this without waking her up.

“You keep telling yourself that kiddo, now let’s see what you’ve got!” Yamcha shouted, trying to sound tough, though his heart raced with uncertainty, he lunged forward, fists swinging, but Kakarot was quick to react.

With a swift motion, he sidestepped Yamcha’s attack, all while keeping Bulma safely secured on his back, the boy's agility surprised Yamcha, who stumbled past him “What the?!”

But Kakarot saw that hit got way too close for comfort, his speed was significantly lowered by both Bulma’s weight and the fact he had to be gentle, “If you wake her up, I swear-”

“Then let her go!” Yamcha interrupted, his heart pounding as he readied himself for another attack. “You’re not fooling anyone, a villain like you wouldn’t care about that!”

Kakarot's patience was wearing thin, and as Yamcha lunged forward again, he realized that his speed was rising, he threw a punch, and though Kakarot was much faster, he almost didn’t evade the attack, he leaned to the side, the punch almost hitting his shoulder, Kakarot felt the rush of wind as it missed him, a warning bell ringing in his mind, it wouldn’t hurt him, but it would stir Bulma awake.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Kakarot taunted, attempting to regain control of the situation. But Yamcha wasn’t backing down, he charged again, this time throwing a series of rapid jabs. Kakarot dodged each one, but Bulma limited his movements so much.

“Stop playing around and just let her go!” Yamcha shouted, fueled by his sense of heroism, He lunged again, his fists flying, and Kakarot had no choice but to start fighting back, if he continued dodging like this Bulma would just wake up.

His naturally combative instincts kicked in, overshadowing his attempts at diplomacy, he straightened up, his posture shifting as he prepared himself for a confrontation. “Fine, but don’t blame me when you regret it,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous, revealing the raw power he held within, he had to fight with two severe handicaps, one, he would not be able to move as quickly or as swiftly while carrying Bulma, and two, he had to use only his feet and his tail to win.

Yamcha was now full of fear as he realized the threat this boy actually posed, his aura radiated strengths of levels he had never seen before, but he was still driven by his misguided sense of heroism, he charged forward, throwing another punch with all his might.

Kakarot shifted his weight back, narrowly avoiding the punch as it sliced through the air where he had just been, Yamcha stumbled, now off-balance from the missed attack, and Kakarot seized the moment, with a fluid motion, he used the momentum from his dodge to execute a swift kick at Yamcha’s midsection, as the kick connected, there was an audible crack of bones, as Yamcha was sent back reeling into the sand, his ribs shattered.

Kakarot's voice dripped with a mix of annoyance and condescension as he regarded Yamcha, who lay gasping on the ground. "I told you not to challenge me," he continued, his tone cold and unforgiving. "You are no Saiyan, you're a weakling, you shouldn’t’ve annoyed me."

Yamcha winced at Kakarot's words, the sting of humiliation adding to the pain in his ribs, his bravado had all but vanished, he really was way over his head, all for a girl.

Kakarot shifted his weight, glancing back at Bulma, who remained blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding around her, he couldn’t help but feel a protective instinct flare within him again. “You’re lucky she’s here, if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t hesitate to finish this.”

Yamcha's heart raced, the implications of Kakarot's words hitting him hard. "I... I won’t give up!" he gasped, struggling to push himself up despite the pain. “I can’t let you take her! You are a monster!”

Kakarot sighed, shaking his head at the futility of the bandit’s determination, but as he saw that he felt a weird sense of… Dejavu, the way this guy was fighting so stubbornly reminded him of himself… in his pathetic display against Roshi, the thought just made him angrier, was that how he was? A weakling just like this bandit?

Yamcha, still struggling to rise, felt the weight of Kakarot's gaze. How had he gotten himself into this? This boy, this demon, he wasn’t just strong, he was a force of nature.

Kakarot saw his attempts, it kept reminding him of himself, he wouldn’t let this bandit suffer the same humiliation as him, not because Kakarot respected him, but because he didn’t want to keep being reminded of Roshi, he was now in his position but he would settle this fight his way, let the bandit come and he will fight back with all his power, if he lives then he can maybe come back stronger. “If I am such a monster, then come at me! You want to save her, right! Unleash your strongest move on me and I will show you how weak you are, just as a reminder, I still won’t even need my hands to kill you!”

Yamcha’s heart raced, caught between fear and an overwhelming sense of responsibility, Kakarot's words struck deep, the taunt challenged his very essence, igniting a spark of defiance and a will to fight he didn’t even know he had. “I will prove you wrong!” he shouted, pushing through the pain that radiated from his injured ribs. “I’m not weak! I can do this!”

With a surge of adrenaline, Yamcha took a deep breath, focusing his energy as he gathered the remnants of his strength. He envisioned his next move, the Wolf Fang Fist, his signature attack. He sprang forward, channeling every ounce of his willpower into the attack, the world around him narrowing down to just him and Kakarot.

Kakarot watched with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. What’s this weakling going to try? But as Yamcha lunged at him, his movements almost betraying a flicker of potential, It was a desperate attempt, the bandit unleashed his attack, a whirlwind of fists and kicks that aimed to land solid hits on Kakarot, he was faster this time, but still, slow, weak, not fast enough compared to a saiyan.

Yamcha continued to try and land a blow against Kakarot, he was picking up speed but it was never enough, eventually Kakarot seizes the opportunity, he would unleash an attack that would kill Yamcha, a test to see if he was worthy of at least living, he grabbed the bandit's leg with his tail, squeezing it extremely thightly.

Yamcha’s eyes widened in shock as he realized, he had lost, and at that moment, the world around him slowed down, and he felt the surge of adrenaline and dread coursing through him.

Kakarot lifted Yamcha off the ground effortlessly, the bandit dangling helplessly in mid-air. With a fierce grin that revealed the raw power behind him. With a swift and powerful motion, he swung Yamcha downward, slamming him onto the ground with bone-crushing force, but he didn’t end it there, Yamcha’s body bounced off the floor, bloodied and beaten, but for a final test of endurance, Kakarot spun himself around and used his tail to throw Yamcha across at full speed.

The bandit flew across the sandy terrain, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake, before landing with a thud, and as the dust settled, Kakarot glanced over his shoulder, an expression of indifference crossing his face. “Is that it?” he muttered, eyeing the fallen bandit for any sign of movement. There was none.

Kakarot checked his scouter, raising an eyebrow in surprise. The reading displayed a faint power level of 1. “Huh,” he said, somewhat amused. “You’re still alive? Guess that’s something.” There was no sense of triumph in his voice, just a flat acknowledgment that the bandit had somehow survived the encounter.

Turning his gaze toward Puar, Kakarot’s tone shifted, taking on an edge of impatience. “Take him and leave quickly if you want him to live,” he ordered, his words dripping with annoyance.

Puar, still shaken by the whole ordeal, hesitated for a moment but quickly nodded. “Yamcha, come on! We need to get out of here!” With a great effort, he started dragging Yamcha away.

Kakarot watched as Puar struggled to lift Yamcha, the bandit’s limp body dragging on the ground. As they began to depart, Kakarot felt a flicker of satisfaction wash over him. He smiled to himself.

“Warriors like us deserve a proper fight.” The bandit was stubborn, just like Kakarot himself, but unlike Kakarot he was dignified by receiving a proper fight, unlike what Roshi had done, Kakarot used all his power and attacked the bandit, he lived, so he would come back stronger, that is what a warrior like he and himself both deserve, a battle to test their very limits no matter how deadly or maybe even pointless, what Kakarot did was bestow an honor, even for such a weakling the bandit displayed the same stubbornness he had, and Kakarot would not humiliate him like Roshi had done.

“Reaching near death experiences, facing a great challenge and surviving it, that is how saiyans grow, you humans are definitely worse, but the saiyan method can probably still work a little!” Kakarot said proudly, but as he finished his sentence he felt a stir.

“Kakarot, you’re talking too much! What’s happening did we get the Dragon Balls yet?” Bulma said groggily, still half-asleep.

Kakarot turned, momentarily startled by Bulma’s sudden awakening. His prideful reflection was cut short as he realized that he’d been talking to himself. “Uh, no, not yet, but we are close, we had a little excitement along the way.”

Bulma rubbed her eyes, a mix of confusion and surprise crossing her face. “Excitement? What do you mean?”

Kakarot chuckled, shaking his head. “Nothing you need to worry about, just some bandits who didn’t know when to back down, but I took care of it.”

“Of course you did,” she said, embracing him more tightly as she was still half asleep “You’re always taking care of things, thanks, Kakarot.”

Kakarot felt a warm blush creep onto his cheeks at Bulma's words. Her embrace, although innocent, sent a flutter through him that he wasn’t quite prepared for, and the unexpected compliment left him momentarily speechless.

But as Bulma realized what she had just said, and how she was embracing him… her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink, and with a startled yelp, she jumped from his back, putting a distance between them. “I-I mean, uh, thanks for saving me and everything!” she stammered, brushing her hair back awkwardly as she picked herself up from the sand.

Kakarot scratched the back of his head, confused and a little… sad, that she was no longer embracing him.

Bulma’s embarrassment lingered in the air as she turned her back to him, pretending to adjust her clothes and avoid eye contact. “Oh, look at how late it is, we should camp up, I will get the house out of the capsule.”

As the pair brushed off their awkwardness and prepared to set up camp, another group was watching nearby.

“Did you see that, Shu?” Mai exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with excitement. “That bandit! He was so defiant against that demon child! We should totally help him! He could be our ticket to getting those Dragon Balls!”

Shu squinted, scratching his head. “Uh, you mean the guy who got thrown around like a rag doll? I don’t think he’s exactly in fighting shape, Mai.”

“But he showed guts! That’s got to count for something, right?” Mai insisted, her eyes sparkling with determination. “Plus, if we help him, he might want to team up with us! God knows we need someone else to be able to handle Pilaf’s absurd demands.”

“Or he might just want to punch us in the face too,” Shu shot back, snickering. “But I guess it can work, we could at least check on him, just to see how bad he is.”

With that, they both turned their attention back to Yamcha, who was propped up against a boulder, looking more dazed than anything, his eyes were fluttering open and closed, and Puar was flitting around him anxiously, worried about his friend, he had hid him behind this rock as he wasn’t able to carry him back fully.

“Do you think we should just go for it?” Shu asked, glancing at Mai, who nodded vigorously.

“Absolutely! Just follow my lead,” she said, her tone a mix of confidence and excitement.

As they made their way over, Shu walked up to them whistling and started talking first. “Uh, hey there… that was quite the beating huh?”

Mai knocked Shu on the head “You idiot!” she then turned towards the bandit. “I’m so sorry, do you need help?”

As Shu rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the impact, Mai leaned closer to Yamcha, her overly enthusiastic smile not quite fitting the somber mood. “I mean, that was some pretty intense stuff back there! If you need it, we can try patching you up, we’re really good at that!”

Yamcha blinked slowly, trying to clear the haze from his mind as he registered the two newcomers. His vision sharpened, and he noticed the girl with an absurdly large smile and her human dog companion. “Uh, hey…” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mai leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with concern. “Are you alright?” It made Yamcha even more flustered. The closer she got, the more heat rushed to his cheeks.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine…” he stammered, struggling to try and maintain a cool guy persona. “Just, um… just a little fight, nothing I haven’t seen before” He winced slightly, trying to sit up straighter but only managing to lean against the boulder more heavily, his pain and appearance completely betraying his words, he could still feel his cracked ribs, maybe he had some internal bleeding, and his face was all beaten from being slammed to the ground.

Shu crossed his arms, trying to gauge the situation. “I mean, if you keep seeing stuff like that, maybe you should consider a career change, can’t judge you too harshly though, Pilaf’s put us through the ringer, but hey, we saw you back there! You really put up a fight!”

Mai nodded vigorously, her excitement barely contained. “Exactly! You showed real guts against that demon child! I mean, come on, how many people would dare to stand up to him? We’re impressed!”

Yamcha’s heart skipped a beat at her words, and he felt a mix of pride and embarrassment. “Thanks, I guess? But, uh, I don’t really think I’m in any shape to fight right now…” He could feel his cool facade crumbling as Mai’s enthusiasm enveloped him.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself!” Mai said, her smile widening even more somehow. “We could help you out. We’re pretty good at patching people up, right Shu?”

“Sure, if by ‘patching up’ you mean slapping some band-aids on.” Shu quipped. “But we can help. After all we are also trying to beat that Kakarot kid, so an enemy of his is a friend to us.”

“Kakarot… That’s his name?” Yamcha asked, “So you guys want to beat him too huh? He’s a villain alright, doesn’t surprise me there are people trying to stop him.”

Maybe you’d want to team up with us to take down Kakarot then!” Mai said enthusiastically.

Yamcha’s face turned beet red at the implication, flustered by the attention and the idea of teaming up. “Wait, what? I-I mean… I don’t-” He stumbled over his words, trying to explain but finding himself overwhelmed by Mai’s bright smile.

Mai, misreading his stuttering as eagerness, leaned even closer, her eyes sparkling. “See? He’s totally into it! We could be a real powerhouse team! Just imagine what the two of us can do for Pilaf!”

“You mean the three of us, right?” Shu said, an annoyed look on his face.

“Oh… Yeah of course, but what do you say Yamcha?!” Mai asked again, getting even closer.

“Y-yeah! Totally…” Yamcha blurted, feeling lost in the whirlwind of excitement, he glanced at Puar, who was watching with wide eyes, and found himself wishing for a quick escape from this awkward situation, he tried backing away, instead, he accidentally leaned too much into the boulder and let out a pained groan.

Shu and Mai exchanged a look of excitement, they thought they had just recruited someone else. “Look at that! He’s already excited about the idea! We should take that as a yes!” Shu exclaimed, chuckling.

Yamcha’s heart sank, realizing they were misunderstanding his pain and embarassment for enthusiasm. “No, wait!” But it was too late, he could see the determination in their eyes, and he knew he was trapped.

Mai clapped her hands together, practically bouncing on her feet. “You can’t wait? Alright then! Let’s get to work! We’re gonna help you, and you’re going to join us!”

“That kid you fought, He has the Dragon Balls we are searching for, with it we can get any wish we want!” said Shu.

Yamcha’s eyes widened at the mention of the Dragon Balls, he had heard about them in passing, tales of wish granting orbs, if those tales where true then… maybe it could be worthwhile to join up with these two, that way he could finally wish to… be able to talk to girls…

The Pilaf Gang had now gained two new members, as Mai and Shu giddily carried Yamcha, and Puar, who followed along, back to their hideout, they would have to explain to Pilaf about their new hires… they could only hope he wouldn’t cut their salaries.

It had been a few days since their encounter with the desert bandit, and as they left the desert behind, Kakarot and Bulma continued riding along in their motorcycle. Today, however, Kakarot wasn’t riding on the motorcycle with her, instead, he was racing alongside it, his strides so swift and powerful that he actually managed to kee up, and occasionally surged ahead, proud of himself, every time he did so he would look back at her, a smug grin on his face.

Bulma gripped the handlebars a little tighter, half-impressed, half-irritated. Was he challenging her? She would show him how far human technology can go. As she revved up the engine she started to go even faster, Kakarot responded instantly, pouring on the speed to try and stay ahead, however she started soaring trough the land, leaving him in the dust.

"Not so fast now, are you?" she called out, laughing to herself, her voice whipped away by the wind.

But as the landscape blurred around her, her instincts weren’t enough to keep up, as she almost hit a tree, swerving at the last second, narrowly avoiding a nasty collision, her laughter turning into a short scream, as she skid to a stop, heart pounding.

Kakarot felt a pang of worry as he rushed to her side. "Careful there, Bulma! You alright?" he called out, as he looked her over and noticed she was safe, he chuckled and proudly exclaimed. "Looks like saiyan instincts and speed remain unmatched by you humans!”

She rolled her eyes, but laughed alongside him, but as she looked over ahead, her expression dropped, eyes widening in disbelief, ahead of them, towering into the sky, was a mountain bathed in flames, it wasn’t just a wildfire, the entire mountain looked as if it were born from fire itself, intense heat radiated from the mountain, that almost reminded her of the dreadful desert they just escaped from.

Kakarot’s face lit up with amazement, a grin stretching from ear to ear. “Whoa! Look at that! A whole mountain on fire!”

Bulma’s heart sank, and she let out an audible gasp. “Oh no… no, no, no! Please tell me it’s not in there!” She looked down at the Dragon Radar, hoping the Dragon Ball couldn’t be there, but the blip was dead center in the middle of that fiery nightmare. “You’ve got to be kidding me… The Dragon Ball is in there?!” She shook her head, her voice thick with disbelief. “How are we supposed to get through that?”

But Kakarot only grinned wider, to him, the raging fire was just another obstacle to overcome. “We will find a way!”

Bulma could only hope her companion was right, she went back to her motorcycle.

As he saw that, Kakarot was ready to restart their competition, but Bulma wasn’t so keen on it, her near death experience was one reason, the other one however, she kinda missed riding with Kakarot, his presence near her made her feel… comfortable. “Why don’t you… come back to riding here in the motorcycle? You know to… conserve your energy?”

Kakarot looked momentarily taken aback, his excitement pausing as he met her gaze. “But it’s so much fun running like this!” he protested, though the playful glint in his eyes faltered a bit.

“But we’re heading into a fire, remember? You’ll need your energy for whatever’s in there,” she said, trying to sound more convincing.

The saiyan tried to protest again, but, he decided not to, she did almost die right now, maybe this competition could end up hurting her, and the idea of being close to her was tugging at something inside him, he got back on the motorcycle and the two continued riding.

As they approached the fire mountain, the air thick with heat, Bulma and Kakarot dismounted their motorcycle, surveying the daunting landscape before them, Bulma frowned, her mind racing with potential solutions. “Maybe we can find a way around it… or find some water to douse the flames? Oh what am I’m saying, look at the size of that! There’s no way we can-”

But before she could finish her thought, Kakarot’s scouter beeped, drawing his attention, he activated it, and his eyes widened in surprise, the reading on it was a power level of 90, approaching them quickly.

His instincts kicked in as he immediately dropped into a fighting stance, his muscles tensing. “Hide! Be careful!” he shouted, glancing back at Bulma, she was confused but felt a rush of adrenaline, the look on her companion was one of worry and eagerness, she instinctively stepped back behind him as he positioned himself protectively in front of her.

Kakarot’s excitement bubbled beneath the surface, the thrill of facing a strong opponent igniting a familiar fire within him. “There’s someone coming, and whoever it is, they are actually stronger than me!” he exclaimed, his grin returning, though it was laced with a hint of seriousness.

Bulma was now worried, who could this be? To this day the only person to ever be stronger than Kakarot was just that Roshi guy, but what if this new threat isn’t as kind as he was, she was scared and worried, she looked over at Kakarot, his confidence still unwavering.

Just as they braced themselves for the unknown, a giant axe came flying toward them, Kakarot’s reflexes kicked in, as he caught the massive weapon mid-air. “Whoever you are, come out and face me coward!” he shouted, eyes alight with excitement, with a determined smirk, he launched the axe straight back at their unknown assailant, as Bulma realized the fight was about to escalate, she quickly left to try and find a place to hide.

Their foe caught the axe back, “Not bad kid!” their assailant made himself known, a massive and muscular man, towering over Kakarot, wearing a helmet with giant horns. “Are you here to steal my treasure!”

“We’re here for the dragon ball! If that is your treasure, then you bet!” Kakarot grinned, his excitement palpable. “But if you’re in the way, then I guess I will have to kill you for it!”

The Ox-King’s laughter boomed, echoing around the fiery landscape. “You’ve got spirit kid! Even if you are rude! I won’t let you pillage my castle however!” He hefted his massive axe, ready to attack Kakarot once again.

Kakarot’s grin widened. “Then let’s see what you’ve got!”

With a powerful swing, the Ox-King charged at Kakarot, the axe slicing through the air with a deafening whoosh, Kakarot dodged to the side, feeling the heat from the blade as it narrowly missed him, he countered with a flurry of punches aimed at the giant warrior, they seemed to hurt the giant a little but he continued rushing in for another attack.

“Not bad! I actually felt that a little!” the Ox-King roared, swinging his axe again, forcing Kakarot to jump back. “But I’m just getting started!” He slammed his fist into the ground, creating a shockwave that knocked Kakarot off his feet.

“Now that’s more like it!” Kakarot laughed as he got back on his feet, the thrill of fighting coursing trough his veins. He’s extremely strong and resilient, but he doesn’t seem to be faster than me, I will need to keep my distance here. He extended the power pole’s length and thrusted it like a spear, aiming right at the giant’s torso, forcing him to stagger back. before the giant warrior could regain his balance, Kakarot quickly retracted the pole, then swung it around in a low arc, aiming for the Ox-King's legs.

The Ox-King jumped to avoid the strike, but Kakarot was already anticipating this move, and as the giant soared in the air, Kakarot grabbed the pole like a bat, extending it again and swinging at the Ox-King, Kakarot’s fighting style with the pole was unpredictable, the Ox-King couldn’t dodge in time and was sent back into the ground.

“Not done yet!” Kakarot shouted, quickly flipping the pole over his head. As the Ox-King attempted to stand, Kakarot thrust the pole downward, delivering a stunning blow right to the warrior's head, but the Ox-king managed to recover way faster than he could predicted, dodging out of the way, the pole only hitting one of his horns.

“You use that weapon quite well, but it doesn’t belong to you!” The ox-king got back on his feet fully rubbing his helmet where he was now missing one of his horns. “It belonged to Gohan, and he would never give it to such a brat like you, only over his dead body.”

Kakarot was surprised that this man would know his master. “He did give it to me! He might be dead, but he gave it to me before that.”

“Upon hearing this the Ox-King felt a pang of sorrow, hearing the news of his fallen training partner and best friend. “What… What do you mean he’s dead? Gohan was so strong, how did he die?”

Kakarot’s demeanor changed, talking about his master always left him so conflicted. “I killed him.” He said without any further elaborations.

The Ox-King's expression shifted from sadness to anger, his eyes narrowing as he processed Kakarot's blunt admission. “You... you killed Gohan?” The words felt heavy, the pain of loss swirled within him, mixing in with confusion and anger.

“Yes,” Kakarot replied bluntly, his voice unwavering, but with a pang of regret on his heart.

The Ox-King’s grip on his axe tightened, the wood splintering under the immense pressure, splitting the axe in two. “You took away one of the strongest fighters I knew! He was my friend! We trained together! What sort of underhanded tactics did you use to do that?” His voice roared.

Kakarot stood tall, a mix of determination and guilt etched on his face. “I didn’t use any tricks!” He hesitated. “I lost control. I didn’t mean to kill him like that.”

“Accident or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you took his life!” The Ox-King's fury ignited, with that, the Ox-King lunged at him, fists swinging with the force of a raging bull. Kakarot sidestepped the first punch, the wind from the swing brushing past him. “You don’t even seem to regret it! I will make you pay for it!”

With a quick succession of punches, the Ox-King was putting a lot of pressure on Kakarot, as one punch hit him square in the jaw, knocking him back a few steps. Kakarot staggered, feeling the sting of pain coursing through his body, but he couldn’t let himself falter. He has become even faster and stronger! Was he not fighting seriously earlier?

Kakarot took a step back, instinctively keeping his distance, this was not a fight he could win by attacking him head on, his opponent was furious, but that anger could be used to his advantage, he would have to think strategically, Kakarot had to keep pressure on the Ox-King to force him to remain at a distance while also using any opportunities to deliver blows to incapacitate him and tire him out.

Using his power pole as an extension of himself, Kakarot kept a calculated distance, positioning the pole between them, he extended it, jabbing it toward the Ox-King to maintain space while still delivering damage.

The Ox-King roared in anger and charged, swinging his fists with ferocity, but Kakarot kept extending the pole, using it to maintain the distance as he kept poking and striking at the giant. “You think you can really avenge your friend?” Kakarot smirked, he was teasing him to build up on that blinding anger, his confidence rising as he continued to dance around the Ox-King’s powerful swings.

Kakarot was riding high on the momentum of their battle, feeling the thrill of the fight surge through him, he decided to extend the pole for a more aggressive strike, but in a split second, the Ox-King’s reflexes kicked in, the pole struck him once again, but he caught it before it could retract fully.

“Gotcha!” the Ox-King growled, his grip tightening around the pole like a vice. Kakarot’s eyes widened in shock as he realized his mistake, feeling the strong hands of the Ox-King pulling him closer, he had to let go of the pole. “This is a sacred weapon! It shouldn’t be used by someone like you!” He then threw the pole far away.

Kakarot watched in disbelief as the Ox-King flung the power pole away like a twig, for a brief moment, shock coursed through him, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But his saiyan instincts started roaring, making him keep fighting with determination. “You think that just because I lost my weapon, I can’t take you down?” he taunted, rushing forward, he would try to use his smaller size as an advantage here.

He attempted to slip through the Ox-King’s defenses, weaving in and out, but the giant was simply too strong, each time he dodged an attack, Kakarot found himself at the mercy of a counterstrike, the Ox-King's fists like boulders crashing into him.

With each blow, Kakarot felt his confidence wavering, but he couldn’t let himself falter.

Bulma crouched behind a boulder, her heart racing as she watched the fight unfold before her. The sheer size and strength of the Ox-King were terrifying, each of his punches landing with bone-rattling force against Kakarot. “Come on, Kakarot! You can’t let him get the better of you!” she whispered under her breath, her hands clenching into fists.

As the Ox-King caught the pole and threw it far, her pulse quickened, and her heart sank when she looked back to see Kakarot struggling to keep his footing against the relentless assaults of the giant, each powerful punch sent him staggering, and she felt a rush of panic. What if he gets hurt? What if he- She found it hard to even finish that thought, it made her stomach twist.

Something inside her ignited. I have to do something! she resolved, her mind racing. The power pole couldn’t be too far from her, and if she could get it back to Kakarot, then maybe he could turn the tide of the fight. She glanced around, ensuring the Ox-King was too focused on Kakarot to notice her.

With a burst of determination, Bulma sprinted from her hiding spot, her heart pounding in her chest, she quickly hopped onto her motorcycle, the engine roaring to life beneath her as she sped towards where the pole had fallen. The world around her blurred, and she focused solely on the task at hand. What am I even doing! The thought kept playing on her head, inside she was terrified, to even consider going near the two fighters was suicide, but she had to, she had to do it for Kakarot, she couldn’t lose him.

Kakarot staggered back, his body aching from the relentless assault, each blow from the Ox-King felt like a battering ram, sending shockwaves of pain rippling through him, he could taste blood in his mouth, a bitter reminder of just how outmatched he was, Kakarot braced himself, ready to dodge or counter the next assault, but the Ox-King was relentless. With a primal roar, he lunged forward, throwing a devastating punch that connected with Kakarot’s side like a cannonball. The impact resonated through the air, and Kakarot felt an electric shock of pain shoot through him.

“No!” he gasped, his armor had cracked under the force of the blow. It had never even gotten scratched before but now was missing a whole part of itself as he got hit, the right shoulder pads of his armor being completely torn off as he now had cracks running across the right side of his armor, the punch also left him winded, this might just be it, he watched as the giant rushed in for yet another attack.

“Kakarot!” Bulma's voice pierced the air as she sped into view on her motorcycle, the engine screaming as she accelerated toward the giant. The sight was shocking to al, as Bulma, determined, aimed her bike directly at the Ox-King, who barely had time to react.

“What is that?!” he shouted, his massive form turning toward her just as she leapt off the motorcycle, leaving it to crash into the Ox-King with a deafening thud, the collision only stuttering the giant and confusing him.

Kakarot’s instincts kicked in. “Bulma!” he yelled, stretching out his arms just in time to catch her as she soared through the air, both relieved and grateful. “I’ve got you!” he managed to say, his voice strained but steady, but he could feel her trembling from the adrenaline and shock, her wide eyes reflected a mix of fear and schock, and for a moment, they were both suspended in the chaos of the fight surrounding them.

“Bulma, are you okay?” Concern etched on his face, he felt the weight of her anxiety, knowing she had just risked everything to save him.

But before he could fully process the situation, Bulma gasped for air, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her composure. “I’m fine, I’m fine!” she exclaimed, clearly not fine, with urgency creeping into her voice. “Take it! Take the power pole!” She shoved the weapon into Kakarot’s face frantically, as she turned to look back at the Ox-King, who was regaining his focus and preparing to charge again. “I can’t have you dying on me! Beat this guy!” She quickly got out of her savior’s arms and left for a hiding spot once again.

With the power pole firmly in hand, he turned his focus back to the Ox-King, who was now bellowing in anger, eyes locked onto Bulma, Kakarot clenched his teeth, knowing he had to act fast.

“How can someone like you have such a loyal friend?” The Ox-King asked, his anger dying down a little after these events, the girl’s bravery for her companion leaving him dazzled, but he had to continue fighting and teach this brat a lesson, he was resilient, this fight was leaving the giant quite tired already.

He growled, visibly frustrated but undeterred, he charged forward again, but Kakarot used the pole to vault over the Ox-King’s outstretched arms as he lunged, he though he already knew how to deal with that weapon, but mid-air, Kakarot then retracted the Power Pole and extended it once again, hitting the Ox-King straight in the head as he propelled himself upwards, he kept the power pole extending into the high heavens.

As Kakarot soared through the clouds, he felt a rush of exhilaration, he glanced down at the Ox-King, who stood on the ground, now fading out of his sight. Looking up in bewilderment, the giant’s frustration was palpable as he clenched his fists, trying to comprehend Kakarot’s sudden move.

“Running away, are you?!” the Ox-King roared, his voice echoing through the valley, he spotted the power pole, now embedded in the earth like a spear, and a cunning grin spread across his face, as his massive hands reached for the pole, ripping it from the ground and slamming it back with all his might.

The ground trembled as he brought it crashing down, expecting to smash Kakarot into the earth below. But as the pole struck the ground with a resounding thud, Kakarot was nowhere to be seen.

As Kakarot hovered high in the sky, a grin spread across his face This is it! he thought, feeling the thrill of the moment, the Ox-King's furious swings had given him the perfect opportunity to regroup and charge up for a decisive move, I needed some time to charge this to its full power! The final move to finish him! Kakarot focused his energy, drawing upon every ounce of strength he had left, ki swirling in his palms as he began to gather energy.

The Ox-King continued searching for Kakarot, frustration etched across his rugged face, he glanced up into the sky, squinting against the sunlight, but he still couldn’t see him. “Kame…” Kakarot had now started descending.

As Kakarot began his descent, he felt the rush of wind against his face, the adrenaline coursing through him, amplifying his focus, as he was plummeting headfirst toward the ground, he locked on to the Ox-King who still seemed oblivious to his location. “Hame…”

The Ox-King’s gaze finally shifted upwards, and he was momentarily blinded by a brilliant light in the sky, thinking it was only the sunlight again, he grinned, believing Kakarot was planning to use the momentum from his fall to land a hit on him, but the Ox-King could easily dodge such a telegraphed move.

But as Kakarot drew closer, the Ox-King's eyes widened in shock as he saw the boy’s true intent. “No... It can’t be! How does he know that!” he realized too late, the gravity of the situation crashing down upon him.

With a ferocious look on his face, Kakarot unleashed the full power of his blast, his voice ringing out with intensity. “HAAAA!” The blast erupted forth, a torrent of blue energy aimed directly at the Ox-King, illuminating the battlefield as it surged forward, ready to meet the giant head-on.

The giant raised his arms at the last second to defend himself, as he felt the power behind the Kamehameha pressing against him, it was overwhelming, he staggered backward, the ground cracking beneath his feet, unable to withstand the immense pressure.

Kakarot watched, eyes wide with determination, as the energy blast surged forward, pushing his foe back, he tried pouring in his last reserves of strength into the blasts, he had never unleashed one so powerful.

The Ox-King's hands began to tremble, his grip faltering as the blue energy started overwhelming him, the blue aura of the Kamehameha so bright that it managed to match the radiance from the mountain itself.

Then, with a final, deafening roar from Kakarot, the Kamehameha broke through the Ox-King’s defenses, slamming into him with devastating force, the explosion erupted into a blinding light, sending debris flying, starting a massive whirlwind that sent shockwaves reverberating across the land and creating a gigantic crater in the area of impact.

As the dust settled from the colossal explosion, Kakarot found himself lying on the ground, his body aching and drained from the immense effort he had just expended, he had fallen right next to the massive crater, the impact of his fall had been cushioned, thanks to his unleashing of the blast.

Gritting his teeth, Kakarot pushed himself up, every muscle in his body protesting as he did so, he took a moment to catch his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow, as he looked around, a wave of exhilaration washed over him, the battlefield was littered with debris, and the air was thick with dust, but amidst it all, there was a profound silence that hinted at victory.

He glanced over at the crater where the Ox-King had stood just moments before. “I did it...” he muttered to himself, a triumphant grin spreading across his face, he started laughing gloriously, his sounds of triumph echoing across the valley. “I actually did it!”

But then he heard a sound, one he had heard countless times, but hearing it now, made his heart stop, his scouter beeped.

A low, rumbling laughter echoed from the depths of the chasm, a sound so booming and deep that it resonated through his bones, Kakarot's heart raced, his exhilaration quickly giving way to a feeling of dread.

“Boy! You truly are something else!” The Ox-King's voice thundered, reverberating off the surrounding cliffs as he began to rise from the crater, the dust swirled around him, and for a moment, he appeared like a titan, his immense figure became visible, standing tall and proud, he jumped up to meet Kakarot once again, he was clearly bruised, his breathing quick and tired, but he was still standing tall and in a way better shape than Kakarot.

Kakarot stood firm, his exhaustion evident in the way he steadied himself, but he tried to regain his determination. “I can still fight! Bulma is counting on me to win this, and for her and my pride, I won’t give up!” he declared, his voice steady despite the fatigue weighing him down, small remnants of his strength coming back to him as he prepared for a last stand.

But the Ox-King simply shook his head, his laughter booming again, but this time it had an oddly cheerful tone. “I must apologize, I didn’t trust you fully and got too mad, but you’re not exactly what I thought, it was Kakarot right? That blue lady shouted it.”

Kakarot’s eyes widened, confusion knitting his brow. “What?”

The Ox-King continued, his voice surprisingly warm. “To master such a technique, one that even I haven't quite grasped yet, proves to me that you are a worthy fighter. But it seems you just need to learn some manners.” He gave Kakarot a hearty chuckle, his massive hands resting on his hips. “But I can’t help but wonder, was it Gohan who taught you that Kamehameha?”

Kakarot blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him, as the dust settled around them, the battlefield transformed from a place of conflict to one of mutual respect. “No, he was my master before I… killed him… but I learned when I was fighting Roshi, he used it against me and I copied it.”

The Ox-King’s eyes widened in astonishment, his tone shifting to one of genuine surprise. “Wow, I can’t believe it! You fought Roshi too? You’re a bag full of surprises!” He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “To learn such a technique in the middle of a battle? That’s impressive!”

Kakarot felt a flicker of pride at the Ox-King's words, to be recognized like that by a fighter like him, it made him feel even prouder of himself.

The Ox-King's expression softened, “And I’m sorry, about Gohan, from the tone of your voice, I can see Gohan meant a lot to you, I trust that it really was an accident when you killed him, he was a good man and, from what I can see from you, a great master.”

“He… he was.” Kakarot said with a somber voice, his heart aching with the weight of the memories.

“But you really need to learn some more manners.” The ox-king said laughing. “I would love to apologize more properly by giving you some treasure, but as you can see my castle is-“

The Ox-King’s eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the sight before him, the once terrifying flames that had engulfed his castle were now nothing but faint wisps of smoke, dissipating into the cool air, the mountain, which had been a blazing inferno just moments ago, stood eerily calm.

Kakarot turned to the giant. “It must’ve been the shockwaves from the Kamehameha, there was a big whirlwind created by it following that explosion too.”

The Ox-King nodded slowly, still processing the scene unfolding before him. “That makes sense,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “The sheer force of your blast must have swept away the flames like they were nothing.” His expression shifted from astonishment to a mix of gratitude and disbelief. “You’ve saved my home, kid.”

Just then, Bulma marched over, her face still plastered with fear but also showing great concern and anger. “What were you thinking, you big oaf? You almost killed both me and Kakarot!” She pointed an accusatory finger at the Ox-King, her voice trembling but firm. “You really do owe us something for all this!”

The Ox-King, slightly taken aback by Bulma's fierce demeanor, raised his hands defensively. “I… I didn’t mean to almost kill you two, I mean I guess I did… It’s just that the kid was-”

“Yeah, yeah, save it! Can you just lead us inside so we can get the Dragon Ball?” Bulma interrupted, her worry for Kakarot evident in her eyes as she kept glancing at him. “Maybe something for him too, after all you did!”

The Ox-King hesitated, surprised by Bulma's boldness, but then nodded slowly. “Uh, of course. I... I owe you both for saving my home, follow me then.”

Earlier during the battle, in a secluded spot, the Pilaf Gang had been secretly observing the intense battle. Mai, Shu, a weary Yamcha, and Puar huddled together, their expressions a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

Mai’s eyes narrowed as she watched Kakarot soar through the air. “I can’t believe he’s still fighting. I thought for sure he’d be done for by now,” she muttered, glancing at Yamcha, who was resting against a rock, clearly still hurt from his fight with Kakarot, his face was even completely red as he stood near her.

Yamcha, wiping sweat from his brow, replied. “Y…yeah… That kid, is really a monster, th… that giant too.” He tried answering, stuttering over his words, he was slowly getting more used to mai’s presence but being near such a beautiful girl still made him tremble.

Puar floated nearby, looking worried. “What’s our plan now? With that huge fight we can maybe use it as a distraction, but we have no way of getting inside.”

Mai’s brow furrowed in thought, and then a sudden realization struck her. “Wait a minute…” She recalled from her memories of tales of this place. “That fire mountain… this guy is the Ox-King! So that girl we met earlier… that was his daughter!”

Yamcha perked up, curiosity piqued. “His daughter? You mean that girl we knocked out

“Exactly!” Mai exclaimed, a sly grin spreading across her face. “If we take her back, we can use her as a hostage to get the Dragon Ball, he’ll do anything to save her! Even go inside that burning castle!”

“But… but she almost killed me!” Yamcha protested, recalling their first encounter with the fierce girl, where after slicing a dinosaur’s head clean off and blowing it up, she had been flustered by the Pilaf gang’s presence and had almost the same to Yamcha, had he not knocked her out. “And that isn’t exactly…” He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. It was hard to argue with Mai when he was so captivated by her, and he had found himself quite enjoying this partnership with the Pilaf gang, born out of a misunderstanding. “Heroic? Ma… maybe we can just say that we’re rescuing her?” he finished, his voice trailing off, getting lower after each sentence.

Mai crossed her arms, as she started to consider his proposition. “Yeah I guess, it would probably be better, he might end up fighting us if we try to threaten him and… well I wouldn’t want to be on that brute’s bad side, good thinking Yamcha!”

Yamcha felt his cheeks heat up, recoiling slightly at Mai’s unexpected compliment. “Uh, th-thanks, Mai,” he stammered, his heart racing as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Let’s go get her then!” With that, the four of them set out toward the location where they had left Chi-Chi.

As Kakarot leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin spread across his face. The Ox-King stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the two of them with a chuckle. “I can’t believe you managed to eat everything!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the empty plates that had once held a feast worthy of a king.

The banquet had been a grand affair, as an apology gift, the Ox-King made it from the remnants of the food that had miraculously survived the flames that engulfed his castle. Kakarot had devoured everything in sight, his appetite seemingly insatiable.

Bulma laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really needed that Kakarot, that fight was something else, you better rest well when we can.” She looked over at the Ox-King with a grin. “And thanks to you, we now have the sixth Dragon Ball!”

The Ox-King beamed with pride, his chest puffing out. “Well, I’m glad I could help! It’s not every day you get to meet a fighter like you, Kakarot. You’ve got guts, kid!”

Kakarot's face lit up at the compliment, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence. “Next time, I will come back even stronger! Then I will finish killing you!” His tone was light, but the underlying seriousness in his words lingered, hinting at his brutal nature that still lay beneath his cheerful demeanor.

The Ox-King raised an eyebrow but chuckled, taking the comment in stride. “I’ll make sure to start training more too! I will finish learning the Kamehameha then you will see what I can do too!”

Kakarot smirked, the tension easing between them as he felt a strange camaraderie with the giant, he really did mean it, he was still planning on conquering this planet and killing him would probably be necessary, but, if possible, he did hope he might not need to do it, it was strange to him, his goal of conquest was getting muddied with his feelings for these people, this giant had given him the best fight of his life and he had grown on Kakarot, but when the time comes, he would have to deal with this somehow.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, Kakarot and Bulma prepared to leave the Ox-King’s residence. The remnants of the earlier chaos lingered in the air, but a sense of camaraderie had replaced the tension of battle.

“Alright, we should get going,” Bulma said, brushing dust off her clothes and glancing around. “We’ve got just one more Dragon Ball to collect!”

Kakarot nodded, his belly full from the feast the Ox-King had prepared. “Yeah, I’m ready! That was a lot of food!” He grinned, patting his stomach.

The Ox-King approached them, his large figure blocking the fading sunlight. “Hold on a second, you two! Before you leave, I want to give you something.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”

“Since you crashed your motorcycle into me during the fight, I figured you could use a new ride,” he said, as he threw a capsule into the air, opening it to reveal a luxurious car. “It’s a bit more reliable and should serve you well on your journey.”

Bulma’s eyes widened, full of embarrassment as she remembered her stunt from earlier. “I can’t believe I did that…” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

Kakarot turned to her with a sincere smile. “Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to recover for the Kamehameha, Bulma. Thank you for that.”

Bulma felt her cheeks flush a deep red at his words, a flurry of warmth rushing to her face. “W-Well, I… I saw you needed help so…”

“Well! Just think of it as my way of apologizing for any trouble I caused you two during our little scuffle.” the Ox-King chuckled.

Bulma used his interruption as an opportunity to escape her embarrassment. “Thank you for that! But we should get going now.”

“It’s alright, I hope to see you again Kakarot! I’ll be ready for our next match!”

With final waves Bulma hopped into the driver’s seat while Kakarot settled into the passenger side. As they started the engine, the Ox-King stood watching as they drove off into the sunset, and just as they left, another group came.

Yamcha was carrying the unconscious Chi-Chi. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!” as he glared at Mai, who trotted alongside him, looking thrilled.

As they approached the Ox-King’s castle, they were taken aback to see it standing intact, the flames that had raged just moments ago now reduced to mere wisps of smoke. “What happened here?” Mai exclaimed, blinking in disbelief.

As the Ox-King looked over to them, his expression shifted from a proud smile to one of immediate concern as he spotted them. “Chi-Chi!” he shouted, rushing over, his heart pounding. “What happened to my daughter?!”

Yamcha stumbled a bit, trying to regain his balance. “Uh, we, um… we rescued her from a dinosaur! She was lost out there.” He stumbled over the words, hoping they would sound convincing.

The Ox-King sighed with relief, but his eyes remained concerned. “Thank goodness she’s safe! I knew I shouldn’t have sent her to find Roshi! Thankfully that kid put out the flames.”

Upon hearing that the gang’s jaws dropped, the kid did that? He put out the flames? Yamcha thought, he really had just survived with an encounter with a true demon, Kakarot was on another level, he had to train harder than ever to beat him.

The Ox-King grabbed Chi-chi from them, gratitude shining through his worry. “Thank you for bringing her back! How could I ever repay you?”

The Ox-King gently lifted Chi-Chi from Yamcha’s arms, gratitude shining through his worry. “Thank you for bringing her back! How could I ever repay you?” His gaze shifted between the trio, his voice filled with sincerity.

Yamcha scratched his head, he would try and push his luck. “Uh, well… maybe a Dragon Ball?”

The Ox-King’s expression darkened slightly. “I just gave it to a couple who stopped by earlier, they were quite impressive!”

Mai and Yamcha exchanged glances, realization dawning upon them. “Oh, they can’t keep getting away with this!” exclaimed Mai, frustration boiling over.

Shu’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “We need to come up with a better plan next time,” he muttered, shaking his head.

The Ox-King, sensing their dismay, continued, “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think so many people were looking for that thing. But I could help you get stronger if you want to fight him. Just a warning, though: he’s a heck of a fighter.”

“Oh as if we could ever match that brat.” Shu sighed “Yamcha here is the only fighter and he got his ass handed to him.”

Yamcha’s face flushed a bright red. “Well… I guess you can say that…” But as he thought about the Ox-King’s proposal a bit more, he realized it could be his chance to grow, to be trained by a legendary martial artist like him. “But, I will take you up on that offer! I really want to defeat that kid one day, I was humiliated after our battle, he’s a true villain!”

The Ox-King laughed at Yamcha’s words. “Oh come on, he isn’t that bad, but I promise you then kid, I’m not like Roshi or Gohan, but if we spar and train I can help you grow quite fast!”

Mai however, wasn’t so sure about that. “Yamcha are you sure you want this? You’re pretty hurt already.”

Mai’s worrying over him made him all the more flustered, but he tried to contain himself. “I-I’m positive, M-mai! You and Shu can try to follow them, I will stay here and train, even if just for a day or two, I’m sure it will help already, just call me if guys need it, I will come as fast I can!”

Mai smiled at him, her expression softening. “I’m really impressed, Yamcha. You would go through all that just for us?”

Yamcha felt his cheeks heat up as he stammered, “W-well, I mean… you guys are my friends, and I can’t just let them keep getting away with things like this!” He was flustered, trying to maintain his cool but clearly struggling under her gaze.

“You’re braver than you look, I knew you’d be a good addition to the gang!” Mai teased, her smile widening.

As Mai and Shu turned to leave, they exchanged quick farewells.

“Good luck!” Yamcha called out, trying to sound confident.

“You too!” Mai replied, giving him one last smile before they hurried off in pursuit of Kakarot and Bulma.

Watching them go, Yamcha felt a surge of determination. “I’ll get stronger,” he promised himself, clenching his fists. “And next time, I will show that kid what I can really do!”

Chapter Text

The hum of the car blended with the wind as they cruised through strange mushroom fields, Bulma grinned, her eyes dancing with excitement as she held up the radar. They were nearly there, just one more Dragon Ball, and their adventure would be complete.

“We’re so close Kakarot!” she said, unable to keep the joy from her voice. “After all this time, we’re really going to find them all!”

Kakarot gave her a slight nod, but he was quieter than usual, his gaze fixed far ahead, eyes deep in thought. Bulma glanced at him, he was usually quiet and had this mean demeanor, but she knew him, and she could see that there was something bothering him, perhaps he was still thinking about the fight with the Ox-King.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, slowing the car down a little. “You’ve been awfully quiet for someone who just fought a mountain-sized king.”

He looked at her, his dark eyes steady. “Back there… with the Ox King,” he began, his tone unreadable.

Bulma felt a pang of guilt, her stunt playing back in her mind. Is he going to scold me for getting in the way? Maybe he thinks I messed up the fight…

“When you jumped in.” He paused, his tone hovering between gratitude and frustration. “Thank you, you were brave, but you shouldn’t have done it.”

Bulma blinked, surprised. “What do you mean, I shouldn’t have? You’d have been toast if I hadn’t stepped in!”

Kakarot shook his head. “That’s not the point.” He looked away, his brow furrowing. “You were brave, and I admire that, it took a lot of guts, but jumping in like that, risking yourself… A real warrior doesn’t need help to prove themselves, when I fight, I do it alone, it’s how a Saiyan shows their strength, by facing an enemy one-on-one, without interference.”

Bulma’s face fell, a scowl forming. “So, what, I was supposed to just sit back and let you get clobbered just because you wanted to feel all high and mighty?”

Kakarot sighed, clearly trying to put his thoughts into words. “It’s not about feeling ‘high and mighty.’ A Saiyan fights to prove their own strength and dominance, to give everything they have, without relying on anyone else.” His gaze intensified. “Back there, if I couldn’t stand on my own, I would have deserved whatever happened, it’s an honor to fight, to give everything and, if it comes to it, to die as a warrior, if that had happened, it would just mean I wasn’t good enough.”

Bulma’s scowl deepened, her voice taking on an edge. “So you’re telling me you’d just throw your life away for some pride filled warrior’s death? And what about the people who care about you? Did you even think about that?”

Kakarot raised an eyebrow, his voice hardening slightly. “What people? I’m here to conquer this planet, not to make friends.”

Bulma clenched her fists, the car speeding up, she hadn’t forgotten that Kakarot had come to Earth with a mission, he made that clear enough when they’d first met, but hearing him still say it so bluntly and practically dismissing her, it stung in a way she hadn’t expected.

“Then why even keep me around?” she challenged, her tone defiant. “If you’re so focused on this ‘mission’ of yours, why didn’t you just kill me and take the Dragon Balls for yourself and get on with it?”

Kakarot’s gaze shifted in surpise, his initial coldness softening slightly, he hesitated, as if struggling to find the words. “It’s… complicated, that was the plan, to focus on my mission, but then, you…” He paused, frowning as if he didn’t quite understand his own feelings. “You’ve been useful, but it’s more than that.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow. “Oh, great, ‘useful’, what a compliment.”

“Listen,” Kakarot said, an uncharacteristic worry in his tone. “You may not get it, but Saiyans are raised to be warriors, we don’t do teamwork or care about… feelings, or to fight alongside someone, much less care about them, it just doesn’t make sense.”

She softened slightly, catching the confusion in his voice. “Maybe it doesn’t have to make sense, Kakarot, maybe it just means that you’re more than some fighting machine meant to kill everyone here.”

For a long moment, he was silent, her words sinking in, stirring a conflict he hadn’t felt before, ever since he’d started traveling with her, he’d been wrestling with unfamiliar thoughts, questioning everything he thought he knew about himself and his people. Saiyans valued strength, pride, and victory in battle, legends of their brutality and conquest shaping his understanding of his purpose. But was he really sent here to kill everyone? Was that truly his mission, or had he only assumed so? Maybe there was another way. And it wasn’t just her actions back there that made him hesitate, it was everything from their journey.

Bulma looked at him, sensing his turmoil, her expression a mix of exasperation and empathy. “Hey, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here, but… have you ever thought that maybe you don’t have to conquer this planet by just killing everyone?”  She took a breath, her voice softening. “Look, I… I care about you, Kakarot, maybe we can figure things out together, I know I can’t fight like you, but maybe there’s more you can do with these Dragon Balls than just getting stronger.”

Kakarot’s eyes narrowed as he processed her words, he was a Saiyan, a warrior, his purpose was to fight, to conquer, and yet, here on Earth, far from the expectations of his people, with no Saiyan to judge or challenge him, he couldn’t deny the growing feeling that something else might be possible. And that this woman, this human, might just be the reason behind it.

“Maybe,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Bulma smiled as she looked back at her companion. “We could even use the wish to find out more about you, maybe we can bring your parents here or something.” But then she remembered how saiyans are, and if Kakarot is anything to go by, she doesn’t really want to meet a fully grown saiyan warrior. ”Well on second thought… maybe not that, but we can certainly use them to help you.”

Kakarot’s eyes widened in surprise at her proposition. “Didn’t you want to wish for a boyfriend? Or for that infinite supply of strawberries?”

“Well…” Bulma blushed, her face tinged with color, she looked away, suddenly shy, unsure why his question flustered her so much. “Those things don’t seem as appealing to me anymore, you know?”

Kakarot, still oblivious to the shift in her tone, shrugged off Bulma’s flustered expression. “Anyway, if you do get yourself involved in a fight again… well, just be more careful next time,” he said, his gaze steady. “You’ve got those… firing machines, right?”

Bulma blinked, confused. “You mean… guns?”

“Yeah, that!” He gave a firm nod. “Use those, at least that way, you don’t have to throw yourself at the enemy like that, and if you do go in, don’t hesitate to kill,” he added matter-of-factly. “The only way to guarantee you’re safe is if the enemy’s gone for good, and if they die, they deserve it.”

Kakarot watched her, not realizing the seeds he was planting, and continued, “Next time, just remember that you’re my ally, and if you want to live and help, there’s no room for holding back or taking chances, if you’re gonna be in a fight, you have to be in it to win it.”

Bulma’s brow furrowed. “Well, I don’t plan on being in any more fights, really.”

Kakarot gave a decisive shake of his head. “It doesn’t have to be just for fights, always give your all to rise above any competition, any victory you claim is deserved, the ones who lose do so because they are weak and unworthy.”

Bulma’s frown deepened as she processed his words. It wasn’t just his harshness, she could feel the pride that swelled in his voice, the absolute certainty in that portion of his world view. But as much as she wanted to resist his perspective, something in her acknowledged the practicality of his advice, she would never become the same ruthless and brutal fighter he is, and as much as she was trying to change him, there was also some merit to his world view, she found herself thinking of the journey, the dangers they’d already faced, and the fact that he had proven to her that the universe out there is a cold and dangerous place.

She turned to him, her voice soft but firm. “I get what you’re saying, Kakarot. I’m just… I’m not really meant to be like that, I’m not a saiyan like you.”

“I’m not asking you to be like me,” he replied, his tone practical. “But out here, in this universe, you can’t just be thinking about what’s right or wrong. You said I have to think about those who care for me, right? What if your hesitation, your human sense of morality, ends up putting me in danger?”

The words hit harder than she expected, she wanted to argue, to push back, but his reasoning was sound. She had seen what almost happened in the battle with the Ox-King, what did happen to others who weren’t strong, like that Oolong, the world wasn’t kind.

“I… I get it. I can’t just stand there if it’s gonna get someone hurt, I’ll be careful, Kakarot, I’ll... be ready.” She wasn’t sure if she was convincing herself more than him, but the thought of putting him, or anyone, at risk because of her hesitation or her weakness, it unsettled her, could she really care enough about someone to just put aside her morals when the time comes?

Kakarot nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “Good. Just remember, when you’re facing a true threat, there’s no room for mercy, you want to win? You have to be willing to do whatever it takes.”

For a moment, they both fell silent, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air, Kakarot’s words had planted a seed of doubt in Bulma’s mind, but he didn’t see it. As much as she had begun to change him, he was also changing her, as the journey had forced them both to change, whether they liked it or not.

The next day, they had stop to resupply at a small town, the sun was bright, casting a warm glow over it as Kakarot relaxed, sitting on the roof of the car, his legs crossed as he gazed up at the sky, the stillness and calm a welcome break for him, Bulma had gone off to gather supplies, leaving him to enjoy the serenity, but that peace wouldn’t last for long.

A sudden shout cut through the air, dragging Kakarot’s attention from the sky, he saw two men stride into the square, both wearing black clothes and sunglasses, with strange rabbit ears attached to their heads, their faces leering with an unmistakable arrogance, the village people immediately scattered, ducking into their homes and shops in fear.

Kakarot didn’t move from his spot on the car, his eyes lazily drifting over to the two thugs, they were shouting at the few remaining villagers, but it was clear that their intentions weren’t friendly, each one carried a weapon.

One of the thugs noticed Kakarot sitting on the car and snorted. “Hey, look at this! We got ourselves a tough guy up there. What are you doing just sitting around, huh? You too scared to move?”

The other thug chuckled, stepping forward. “Boy, don’t you know that nobody is supposed to cross paths with a rabbit? That car you got there, it’s too good to be used by someone like you, step aside before we shoot.”

The air around them grew tense, but Kakarot remained unfazed, his posture relaxed as he casually scratched his chin, the thugs’ taunts and posturing didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, they were just like the other coward, Oolong, using fear they didn’t earn.

One of them took out his gun and aimed it at Kakarot. “You hear me? Don’t you dare ignore me! We’re not playing games here!”

Kakarot finally looked down at him, his voice flat but steady. “I’m not ignoring you. Just wasn’t in any rush to get involved with small-time punks like you, I was thinking about important things.”

The thug’s face twisted in anger. “You really don’t know who you’re messing with! We’re part of the rabbits!”

Kakarot, still perched lazily on the roof, finally slid off, landing with a soft thud on the ground in front of them, he stood up straight, his eyes narrowing slightly, the casual air around him shifting. "Never heard of them," he said, his tone almost bored. "But I think you’re the ones who don’t know who you're messing with."

One of the thugs, clearly losing patience, whipped out his gun and aimed it at Kakarot, his finger trembling as he prepared to pull the trigger. "I’ll make you regret this, you freak!" he shouted, his voice cracking with frustration.

The first bullet sped towards Kakarot, but in a blur of motion, he reached out with one hand and caught it in midair, his fingers clenched around the bullet as the second shot came at him, again, Kakarot caught it effortlessly, then the third. He held all three bullets in his palm, his expression completely unfazed.

The thug’s eyes went wide in horror, but before he could react, Kakarot flicked his wrist, the bullets shot from his hand with lightning speed, hitting the thug square in the head, as he crumpled to the ground, blood staining his clothes.

The second thug, paralyzed with fear, fumbled for his own weapon, but before he could even pull it out, Kakarot’s fist shot forward. A heavy punch landed squarely in his gut, the thug barely had time to wheeze in pain before the punch sent him flying backward, crashing into the dirt with a sickening thud.

He didn’t move after that, seemingly lifeless.

Kakarot adjusted his stance, ready to return to his relaxed spot on top of the car when the second thug, barely conscious, managed to croak out a last, weak plea.

“Y-You’ll regret this... Boss Rabbit... will-” The thug’s voice was fading, but there was a frantic desperation in his words, Kakarot paused.

"Boss Rabbit, huh?" Kakarot’s voice was low, a hint of amusement in it, as he slowly turned back toward the thug.

The thug fumbled weakly for something in his pocket, pulling out a small radio with trembling hands. “Y-You’ll never get away with this!” he sputtered, desperately pushing the button. “B-Boss!... please come help us we’re in the-”

The Saiyan sighed, clearly not impressed. “You really think someone’s gonna save you now?” he muttered to himself. Without further warning, Kakarot stepped forward, lifting his boot and slamming it down onto the thug's head with enough force to crush it, the sickening crunch ending the thug’s life for good.

The radio fell from the thug's hand, crackling with static as it landed on the ground. Kakarot looked down at the broken device and smirked. "Boss Rabbit...          What a stupid name.” He kicked the radio aside, the crackling static now a fading noise in the background. As he turned away, he could hear the faint sounds of another voice crackling over the radio.

“...damn it, what happened out there? Anyone alive?”

Kakarot grinned. "Sounds like I’ve made an impression, let’s see if this guy really is strong." He picked the radio up, and spoke into it. “Your thugs are dead, here in the middle of the village, they said you would deal with me, come prove yourself.”

The radio crackled again, and this time, the voice on the other end was dripping with frustration and anger.

“Who the hell do you think you are?! You come into my town, kill my men, and then you think you can just walk in here and start demanding that I-”

Kakarot’s patience wore thin, he could feel the guy's voice growing increasingly desperate, and it only irritated him more, he didn’t need some weakling yelling into the radio, with an annoyed grunt, Kakarot tossed it aside as he returned back to his car, the village people looking at him, dumbfounded but grateful, he paid no mind to them, he would just wait for Bulma and maybe this boss.

Bulma returned to the village square, grinning as she had just bought a new outfit and a bunch of capsules, but as she approached, she froze, her eyes immediately catching the carnage left in Kakarot’s wake.

She blinked, taking in the scene in front of her. The villagers were still cowering, some peeking out from behind buildings, others standing frozen in fear, the whole town seemed to be holding its breath, eyes on Kakarot as he leaned casually against the car, waiting, but for her, it wasn’t the first time she’d seen him completely decimate anyone who got in his way.

Bulma walked past the lifeless bodies of the thugs, unfazed by the carnage. Her eyes were locked on the car, her grin still intact as she approached Kakarot, he was leaning against the vehicle, looking up at the sky as if nothing had happened.

"Well, look at this mess," she remarked dryly, clearly accustomed to the sight by now. "I can’t leave you alone for even a second, can I?”

Kakarot didn’t look at her, still lounging in his laid-back stance. “They were the ones who were bothering me, and they were quite weak too.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Bulma muttered, her gaze flicking over the thugs’ bodies. “Anyway, check this out!” She twirled around, showing off her new outfit with a grin. “What do you think?”

Kakarot finally glanced at her, his expression unchanging, he tilted his head slightly. “It’s... nice, I guess, but why do you need so many outfits?”

Bulma’s voice immediately shifted to irritation. “Well why do you always have to walk around in the same busted-up armor? You should get yourself some new clothes too, instead of looking like you’ve been through a war zone every day!”

Kakarot shrugged indifferently, his tone still casual. “It’s the best armor in the planet, doesn’t matter if it’s broken.”

Bulma shot him a glare but didn’t answer, she muttered under her breath, “Maybe I should buy you some clothes next time, you could use a little makeover.” As she opened the car doors to store the capsules she had bought. “Well, I got everything we needed, we should get going now.”

Kakarot, who had been leaning against the car with his arms crossed, sighed heavily as he scanned the horizon, his scouter beeped, the sound sharp and sudden, breaking the silence, he raised his hand to activate the device, a faint reading flashing on the small screen. Power level: 8.

He frowned, clearly unimpressed. “A power level of 8? Pathetic.” His tone was one of disappointment, but could he really expect much from someone called “Boss Rabbit.”

Turning to Bulma, he gave her a brief glance, his voice flat but serious. “Hold on a second, I was waiting for their boss to show up, they called him boss rabbit, looks like he’s finally here, but he’s not exactly impressive.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow, glancing at Kakarot, then back to the horizon where she could see no sign of the "boss." “Wait, you’re actually going to bother with this guy? He sounds like a joke.”

Kakarot smirked, the corners of his lips curling into a sly grin. “I’m curious to see who’s dumb enough to call themselves ‘Boss Rabbit.’” He cracked his knuckles. “Plus, those thugs really got on my nerves earlier, I wouldn’t mind venting a little frustration by taking this guy out, it’ll be a nice warm-up before we get back to the important stuff.”

Bulma shot him an exasperated look, crossing her arms, as she leaned in the car alongside him. “You’re starting to sound way too much like a villain, Kakarot,” she said, her voice flat but with a hint of annoyance. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

He chuckled, unbothered. “And who said I’m a hero? I’m just curious really.”

Bulma sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, don’t get too carried away, we can’t waste too much time.”

A cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, the sound of a sputtering engine growing louder, Kakarot and Bulma turned to see a ridiculous bright white van, decorated with bunny ears and a fluffy tail, as it scratched to a halt near them, the doors opening to reveal the boss, an actual humanoid rabbit wearing sunglasses and extravagant clothes.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, brushing a speck of dust off as he glared at Kakarot. “You know how hard it is to find good help around here? Do you realize the inconvenience you’ve caused me?”

Kakarot was dumbfounded, he hadn’t expected the guy to be an actual rabbit. “They were in my way, if they were any good, they wouldn’t have lost so easily.”

Boss Rabbit huffed, turning his attention to Bulma with a charming smile, though it came off as more menacing than polite. “And who do we have here? Such a lovely lady in the company of a brute,” he said, extending his hand toward her. “Miss, I insist on a handshake.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow, taking a half-step back, clearly unimpressed with the request and eyeing the suspiciously eager grin on Boss Rabbit's face. “No thanks,” she replied coolly, her arms crossed. “I don’t shake hands with creeps who show up in bunny vans.”

Kakarot’s gaze shifted from Bulma to Boss Rabbit, his eyes narrowing with growing impatience. “Look, your goons annoyed me, so if you’re here to finish their business, stop with the games and let’s get to it.”

Boss Rabbit’s smile faded as he glared back at Kakarot, his paws balling into fists. “Oh, I’m going to do more than just that, kid,” he said, his voice dropping low. “I’ll teach you to respect the name of the rabbits!”

He hopped from one leg to the other, wildly flailing his arms in an exaggerated imitation of a kung fu master, he clearly didn’t know how to actually fight, and for some reason, was always striking with an open palm, Kakarot just continuously dodged him, this was way more disappointing than he expected.

Finally, Kakarot grew tired of the game. He delivered a swift, brutal punch to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him in an instant, boss rabbit doubled over, gasping in pain, Kakarot then kicked him, sending him flying, leaving him bloody and beaten, as Kakarot stood over ready to finish him.

“Wait! Wait, kid! don’t finish me off!” Boss Rabbit choked out, holding up one trembling paw in surrender. “I have… one last attack. It’s... it’s my greatest move, something truly powerful,” he added, desperation glinting in his eyes.

Kakarot raised an eyebrow, intrigued, e folded his arms, allowing a small smirk to play on his lips. “Alright, show me this so-called ultimate attack,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I could use the entertainment.”

Boss Rabbit’s face split into a smirk, and he staggered to his feet, his confidence seemingly restored. He extended his paw toward Kakarot. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this,” he said with a smug laugh.

but as he lunged forward and hit Kakarot, the hit was pitiful, barely even registering to him, who looked down with an arched eyebrow, unimpressed. “Was that it?” he scoffed. “Some ‘ultimate attack.’”

But before he could react, something strange began to happen, Kakarot felt an odd, immobilizing sensation creeping through his body, his muscles began to tense and the world around him grew taller, he tried to move, to fight back, but his body wouldn’t respond, in a flash, Kakarot had transformed completely, into a carrot.

Boss Rabbit’s eyes went wide with glee as he scooped the carrot off the ground, holding it high above his head, he let out a triumphant laugh, his voice booming across the village square. “I did it! I won! The legendary Rabbits have triumphed once again!” He spun around, waving the carrot above his head like a trophy.

Bulma’s face paled as she took in the scene, her eyes wide with shock and fear. “K-Kakarot...?” she stammered, struggling to process what had just happened, she took a hesitant step forward, her voice trembling. “You... You turned him into a carrot?!”

Boss Rabbit turned to her with a wicked grin, clutching the carrot like a prize. “Oh yes, sweetie! And now, with your friend out of the way, I think I’ll keep you around for a bit,” he sneered, giving Bulma a sinister wink.

Bulma’s heart raced as her mind spun in shock and desperation. This can’t be happening, she thought, her eyes fixed on the carrot in Boss Rabbit’s grasp. Kakarot, he can’t be gone like this! He’s always been unstoppable…

As she took a trembling step back, Boss Rabbit advanced, his smirk widening as he enjoyed her visible fear, he gave the carrot a lazy twirl between his fingers and then held it up, pretending to examine it as if deciding what to do. "You know, I might just eat this carrot right here and now,” he sneered, flashing his sharp teeth. “That way, I can be sure this kid doesn’t come back.”

Bulma’s stomach twisted as the words hit her. “No! Don’t! please!” she cried, reaching out instinctively, fear etched on her face, but Boss Rabbit’s smirk only grew more sinister.

“Well, well, look who’s begging now. I could just gobble this little carrot right up.” He dangled Kakarot’s carrot form in front of her, taunting her. “Unless... you’ve got something to offer me instead?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with mockery. “What would you do to make sure I don’t eat him, hm?”

Bulma felt herself back up against the car, panic tightening her throat, but then her hand brushed against something cold and metallic in her back pocket. She remembered her earlier conversation with Kakarot and the gun she had stashed there, just in case. Her fear wavered as a new resolve hardened within her, she wouldn’t lose him, not like this.

Her fingers closed around the gun, and with a swift motion, she pulled it out and leveled it at Boss Rabbit. “Put him down, or I swear I’ll shoot,” she said, her voice steady despite the terror in her chest.

Boss Rabbit froze, his smug smile faltering as he eyed the gun with surprise and a flash of anger. “Oh? Didn’t peg you for the type, lady,” he sneered, though he hesitated, eyeing her carefully. “Think you’re brave now just ’cause you’ve got a gun?”

Bulma kept her aim steady, her eyes fierce as she met his gaze. “I won’t ask again. Drop him. Now!”

Boss Rabbit eyed the gun in Bulma’s hand, taking note of the slight tremor as she held it, his smirk returned, confidence rekindling as he stepped forward, unfazed by her aim. “Oh, please,” he scoffed, inching closer. “I can see it in your eyes, you’re scared. You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Bulma’s grip tightened, but he could see the fear in her face, the hesitation. “Put it down, sweetheart,” he continued, his tone condescending as he took another step. “You wouldn’t want to be a murderer, right? You don’t have it in you.”

Her heart pounded as she fought to keep her aim steady. He’s right, she thought, I haven’t done this before. But Kakarot’s words from their previous conversation echoed in her mind, he was right, and now, she couldn’t hesitate, she couldn’t care about morals, he was depending on her again and she wouldn’t let him die like this.

Her fear began to melt into something firmer, resolve.

Boss Rabbit kept coming, his confidence blinding him to the change in her eyes. “Come on,” he taunted, leaning in close enough that she could see the smug gleam in his eyes trough the sunglasses. “Just hand over the gun and save yourself the trouble.”

But Bulma’s face hardened, she took a breath, held it steady, and pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out in the quiet of the village square, sharp and final, Boss Rabbit’s eyes widened in shock as the bullet hit him squarely in the chest, his smirk vanished, replaced by a gurgling gasp as he stumbled backward, his grip on the carrot loosening. He hit the ground, motionless, his last breath escaping him.

The carrot tumbled from his paw, and Bulma rushed forward, scooping it up with trembling hands, her heart hammered, her mind reeling from what she’d just done. She looked down at the carrot, her face breaking into a tearful smile. “Kakarot… I did it, now please, come back” she whispered.

With a sudden burst of smoke, Kakarot reappeared, sprawled out on the ground, looking dazed and utterly bewildered. “Wha… what happened?” he mumbled, blinking in confusion as he tried to piece together the events.

Before he could fully process, Bulma’s tear-streaked face appeared in front of him, and in an instant, she threw herself onto him, wrapping him in a tight, smothering hug. “Kakarot!” she sobbed, burying his face into her chest, her body shaking as she clung to him and closed her eyes, relief, worry and shock mixed together, pouring out in her embrace.

Kakarot stiffened, caught off guard, his face reddening as she hugged him tightly, his face pressing close against her. He could feel her warmth and her desperate hold, her hear racing, and his cheeks flushed even deeper. “Uh... Bulma…?” he stammered, not quite sure what to do with his hands, though they eventually settled around her back. But his heart pounded in his chest, her nearness and emotions were affecting him in a strange way.

Bulma didn’t seem to notice his flustered state, or where she had pressed him into, she was far too overwhelmed by relief, her hands clutching his armor, her words a mix of sobs and laughter. “I thought you were gone! Don’t ever let something like that happen again!” she choked out, still crying.

As Bulma’s tight embrace loosened, Kakarot’s mind began to clear, as he and Bulma stood up, and he glanced around, catching sight of Boss Rabbit lying dead nearby, his eyes widened slightly, piecing together what had happened, and then he looked back at Bulma, without warning, he pulled her into a hug of his own, his grip surprisingly firm.

Bulma gasped, her tear-streaked face now looking at him in surprise, still trembling from the ordeal. “K-Kakarot?”

He gave her a steady look, his voice quiet but resolute. “You did the right thing, Bulma,” he said, his words surprisingly gentle. “That guy was weak scum, and he deserved what he got.”

Bulma’s eyes filled with fresh tears, but this time they were mixed with relief and gratitude, a weight, lifting from her shoulders. Kakarot, still blushing slightly, held her just a little tighter, wanting her to feel safe, although his smaller stature made the hug kind of awkward, she still felt comforted by him.

They stood there for a moment, the weight of the moment lingering between them, before Bulma wiped her eyes and sniffled, trying to gather herself. “Alright, let’s get going, we’ve still got one more dragon ball, right?” She turned to look at their surroundings, the tension starting to ease, but Kakarot could tell that the experience had changed her.

Later, in the grand, dimly lit throne room of Pilaf’s castle, the only sound that breaks the silence is the steady beeping of his Dragon Ball radar. Pilaf stands before it, gripping his own precious Dragon Ball tightly, his eyes wide with dread, the Dragon Balls are drawing closer, nearly within his grasp, but the closer they get, the more his anxiety builds, and his small blue body begins to tremble with a nervous, uncontrollable shiver.

“Why does it have to be him?” Pilaf mutters, voice high and squeaky with panic. “The monkey devil of Mount Paozu… Why couldn’t it have been someone… normal? Someone who isn’t a raging monster!”

He paces the room, mumbling to himself, before slapping his hands to his face and letting out an exaggerated, helpless sigh. “I’ve heard stories, Mai! Terrifying tales about that crazy demon tearing through the region, crushing mountains, killing hunters, leveling anything in his way. And now… now he’s coming for us! The Monkey Devil!”

Pilaf’s small, blue body shakes as he recalls the details he’s heard. “I sent Shu to keep an eye on him, and now Shu’s barely able to move, do you know what he told me, Mai?” He turns to her with wide, terror-stricken eyes. “That kid kicked a missile right back at him! Kicked it! Who in their right mind can kick a missile? I knew it was a ridiculous idea to try sending Shu to snatch the Dragon Balls!”

Mai, watching Pilaf’s antics with a mix of concern and restrained amusement, shakes her head slightly. “My lord, you should try to calm down. These legends, they can’t all be true. He’s just a kid, after all.”

Pilaf stares at her, his face a mask of desperation. “Calm down?!” he shrieks. “How can I calm down when we could all be doomed, Mai?! This Monkey Devil is a force of nature! And you saw him right? Didn’t you say he even blew away the fires of fire mountain, that he almost killed the Ox-King!”

Mai hesitates before nodding, a hint of apprehension flickering across her face as she remembers the encounter, Pilaf’s gaze falls upon the suit lying ready by the wall, meant for their newest recruit, Yamcha, his expression twists, and he seems both frustrated and hopeful at the same time. He gestures wildly toward the suit. “Mai! Call Yamcha! Now! He’s our best agent, our only hope! He’s… strong! And we’ll need all the muscle we can get to survive the oncoming rampage of that demon! Maybe with Yamcha… just maybe, we stand a chance.”

Mai raises an eyebrow, unable to hide a slight smirk. “Yamcha’s out training, sire,” she replies, a hint of admiration slipping into her voice as she thinks of the bandit turned agent. “He’s getting even stronger.”

But Pilaf, oblivious to the nuance, resumes pacing, his distress mounting. “Training?” Pilaf gasps. “I’m paying him to train?! He should be here! Now! And if I have to pay him one more zeni for ‘training’…” He clenches his tiny fists, face turning red with frustration, before he slumps, his fear once again taking control. “But… he’s still the best we’ve got. And he is strong… probably good for something, that stunt you two pulled of suddenly recruiting him better prove itself worthwhile.”

Mai gives Pilaf a resigned look before reaching for the communicator, her demeanor shifting as she begins to summon Yamcha, acting almost like a giddy schoolgirl calling her crush. Pilaf, unaware of her excitement, continues muttering to himself, sighing and casting nervous glances toward his radar as he imagines the mayhem that’s sure to come.

At the entrance of Pilaf's eerie castle, Kakarot and Bulma stand together, the final Dragon Ball nearly within reach, Kakarot stares up at the towering, gloomy structure, while Bulma looks around, an uneasy expression crossing her face.

“This is it,” Bulma murmurs, clutching her satchel of Dragon Balls. “The last one’s in here. But this place… I didn’t expect it would be in somewhere like this…”

Kakarot with a firm push, swings open the massive entrance doors, and they step into the spacious, dark halls. The air is thick with an unsettling silence, thei footsteps echo through the empty corridors as they make their way deeper into the castle, both alert to the possibility of danger.

“Kakarot… this place is giving me the creeps,” she whispers, her voice barely above a quiver.

Kakarot, completely unbothered, activates his scouter. it flickers to life just long enough to briefly pick up a cluster of life signs within the castle. “There are people here… If we locate where they are I can just blast my way directly to the-” he begins, but before he can finish, a flash of light streaks through the darkness, a laser aimed precisely at his scouter.

The device shatters instantly with a sharp, metallic crack, sparks flying as Kakarot jerks back, reaching up to touch the remains on his face. His jaw tightens, and he scowls. "My scouter! No, I can’t believe this!”

Bulma gasps, clutching his arm a little tighter. “K-Kakarot! Are you okay?” She glances up at him with wide, concerned eyes, but he barely seems to notice, still bristling with irritation at the loss of his scouter.

Ignoring her question, he huffs in frustration as sparks flicker from the broken device. “First my armor… Now my scouter! Those bastards!”

Bulma lets out a breath, bending down to pick up the shattered pieces, cradling them in her hands. “Don’t worry, I can fix it for you later,” she murmurs, hoping to calm him down. “We just need to find the Dragon Ball and get out of here in one piece…”

Kakarot mutters something under his breath, too angry to respond directly. He strides forward, now determined to press on without caution, his irritation making him reckless as he leads the way through the castle’s dark, eerie corridors. Bulma tries her best to keep up, clinging to his arm, her heart pounding with each echoing footstep, and her nerves on edge as she glances nervously around.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp click beneath Kakarot’s boot, before he can react, beams shoot out from hidden crevices in the walls, closing in from all sides, Bulma lets out a shriek, clutching onto Kakarot as the deadly beams come hurtling toward them.

“Damn it!” Kakarot snarls, his frustration mounting, without hesitation, he swings his fists, smashing the beams closest to him with a series of powerful strikes, stone splinters as he crushes each beam, but his eyes widen when he spots two beams heading straight toward Bulma.

Quickly positioning himself between her and the approaching beams, he intercepts them with a powerful kick, the force of his strike shattering the stone. Bulma stumbles back, breathing hard as she clutches onto him, her face pale with fear. “Of course, this place is filled with traps! You have to be more careful Kakarot!”

Kakarot shoots her an irritated look. “No trap is gonna defeat me. Whoever owns this place is a coward.” His voice is firm, they press on, following a path of painted arrows on the floor.

As they continue down the winding corridors of Pilaf's castle, the path begins to feel like a never-ending maze, Kakarot, still boiling with frustration over the destruction of his scouter and the traps he's already destroyed, tries to push ahead with reckless determination, Bulma, trailing behind him, stays close, trying to hold onto him, her nerves high.

Finally, they reach a dead end, the hallway narrowing into an unmarked stone wall. Kakarot huffs, clearly annoyed. “Great,” he mutters, turning on his heel. “A dead end, this place is just one big joke.” He steps back, ready to turn around and retrace their steps.

Bulma stops in her tracks, her eyes widening as the walls on either side of them begin to shift, she gasps, backing up toward Kakarot, her pulse quickening. “Kakarot... what’s going on?” she whispers, her voice trembling.

Kakarot’s brow furrows as the walls close in around them, trapping them in this room, Bulma seems terrified, but he just sighs in frustration. “This is getting annoying, why can’t they just appear and face me? All these stupid traps.” He readies himself to destroy the steel walls around him, but before he can, he hears a noise.

Suddenly, a screen flickers to life on the wall, illuminating the room, on it appears a small, blue-skinned figure, he’s shivering and visibly sweating, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and forced bravado.

“Haha! I’ve trapped you, Monkey Devil!” Pilaf says, forcing a laugh that cracks halfway through, his bravado quickly fading as his words get caught in his throat, he wipes his brow nervously, trying to steady his hands. “You and your friend have no way out now!”

Kakarot doesn’t flinch, his anger boiling in his chest, he listens to the emperor’s nervous attempt at a taunt, his expression darkening. Pilaf, still trying to muster some confidence, leans closer to the screen and continues, though his voice falters as he speaks.

“Who even are you?! Creep!” Bulma snaps, her words sharp as she steps closer to Kakarot, her fear now tinged with anger, the tension in the room is thick, and Bulma’s patience has reached its limit, this place has been nothing but trouble from the start, and now this small, blue-skinned emperor is threatening them.

“I am the great emperor Pilaf, I have your last Dragon Ball you’re looking for.” A small hint of pride flashes in his face. “Now, if you just hand over those Dragon Balls you have, I might consider letting you go,” Pilaf offers, his attempt at negotiation shaky, his eyes flicking toward the edges of the screen, clearly unsure whether his threats will hold.

But Kakarot's gaze remains fixed on the screen, his eyes burning with fury, not even a flicker of fear showing, his body tenses, every muscle ready to explode, his fists still clenched tight, his anger is boiling over.

Pilaf continues, trying to put on a brave face. “Even with your monstrous strength, no one can just break through these triple-budded, double-reinforced steel walls. You’ll never-”

But before Pilaf can finish, Kakarot doesn’t hesitate, his eyes remain locked onto the screen, as his fist shoots out, smashing into the wall beside him with such force that the ground trembles, the stone cracks and splinters, the sound of the impact resounding through the room, making the air vibrate.

The wall is broken and now yet another one of his traps is destroyed, Pilaf stumbles back, his eyes widening as he watches the wall crumble in front of him.

Kakarot's gaze stays locked onto the screen, unwavering, his voice is calm, but the menace in it is unmistakable.

“I’m coming for you,” Kakarot says, his tone low and deliberate, the threat is clear, his aura flares, crackling with raw power, but he remains still, his focus on Pilaf, the menace emanating from him.

Pilaf visibly shakes, his bravado crumbles, his eyes darting frantically as he fumbles for the microphone, his hand trembling so much it nearly slips from his grasp, he stammers in fear, his previous attempts at control unraveling completely.

“W-wait! Hold on! I-I was just... It was just...!” Pilaf’s words fall apart as panic overtakes him, the tiny emperor trying to regain some semblance of composure, but failing miserably.

“Master Pilaf! Yamcha’s back!” Shu exclaimed, as he burst into the room, his voice trembling.

Pilaf's eyes brightened at the mention of Yamcha, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect, he’d expected Yamcha to return soon, and now the agent was here just in time to help deal with Kakarot.

“Good!” Pilaf said, still full of desperation, but now, a wicked grin was spreading across his face. “Send him in, quickly! I’ll have him suited up and ready to deal with that demon!”

Shu nodded and dashed off, Pilaf chuckled darkly as he adjusted the controls in front of him, his mind already turning over the possibilities. "That kid doesn't stand a chance," Pilaf muttered to himself, Yamcha had lost before, sure, but now, with his new strength combined with Pilaf’s brilliant machinery, he would surely be unstoppable.

Yamcha walked briskly through the hallways of Pilaf’s castle, his hands tightly gripping the straps of his new uniform, he was trying his best to stay focused, but there was something about the situation that kept him distracted, in front of him, Mai was guiding him down the path to Pilaf’s control room, her hand gently gripping his.

Yamcha couldn’t help but feel a flustered by the contact, he tried to keep his thoughts straight, but it wasn’t easy with Mai’s closeness making him feel a bit self-conscious, he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to suppress his nerves. “Uh, Mai… you don’t have to… uh… hold my hand,” Yamcha muttered, his face turning a deeper shade of red.

Mai shot him a side glance, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You’ll be fine, Yamcha, just keep your focus.”

Yamcha nodded quickly, but his thoughts were already drifting back to Kakarot, the last time they had crossed paths, he’d been utterly humiliated. Kakarot had taken him down with ease, leaving him for dead, but now, it would be different.

The short but intense training he’d undergone with the Ox-King had already shown results. Yamcha had trained hard, and though he was still far from a match for Kakarot’s raw power, he wasn’t the same man, and with Pilaf’s new suit enhancing his abilities further, Yamcha felt a surge of confidence. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but if anyone could take Kakarot down, it would be him.

Kakarot and Bulma stepped cautiously into the next room, their eyes scanning the surroundings, it was almost too quiet, an eerie calm hanging in the air, the room was large, with high, smooth walls, and the floor was polished, a few sparse lights hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows across the stone, it almost looked like a coliseum, a place for a fight to the death.

As they stepped deeper into the chamber, the massive steel doors behind them slammed shut with a heavy, echoing thud, Bulma let out an exasperated sigh, slumping slightly. “What? Again?!”

Kakarot didn’t flinch, his anger was already boiling over, but now his eyes burned with an eager, predatory gleam as his lips curled into a hungry grin, the air around him seemed to crackle with his intensity. "Look around, Bulma," he said, his tone becoming darker, his bloodthirsty eagerness clear. "I can’t think of anything else happening here except a fight to the death!”

Such a sight almost scared Bulma, she knew he was angry, even she was, but his saiyan temper was quite hard to handle, if there really was a fight, she was sorry for whoever their opponent would be.

On the other side of the coliseum, a door opened, and out of it, stepped a figure that was familiar to Kakarot, in his new black trench coat, similar to that of Mai’s, Yamcha stepped in, ready for his revenge.

“Kakarot!” He screamed, drawing the duo’s full attention. “Remember me? Yamcha? You left me for dead that day, I found some friends, I trained hard, with the Ox-King, and now, I’m back, you got what you wished, I came back stronger, but I won’t give you the same opportunity, you will pay for what you did!”

The bandit was back, he knew he had potential since he managed to survive his attacks, and now, he looked far more formidable than before, but Kakarot’s blood boiled with eagerness, the last time they had fought, he had easily beaten him, even with a handicap, maybe now they can have a better fight.

“I remember you, so it seems you’ve learned your lesson, how cute.” Kakarot got into his fighting stance, he couldn’t use his scouter, but there was no way the bandit had gotten stronger than him, last time they fought, he had a power level of 9, the Ox-King was strong but even he can’t turn a weakling into a strong warrior that quicky. “Bulma! Stand back, this guy, I fought him a while back, in that desert, he was weak then, I’m sure he’s weak now.”

Yamcha’s expression tightened at Kakarot’s words, but there was a fire burning in his eyes now, something deeper than before. “The Pilaf gang and the Ox-King also gave me some gifts.” He removed his trench coat, now clad in the iconic orange and blue gi of the Turtle School, a gift from his brief training with the Ox-King, he had left an impression on the guy, and now this marked him as a true fighter, the gi was simple but rugged, perfectly suited for combat.

But alongside his gi, there was something else, now representing his connection to Pilaf, underneath the orange gi, Yamcha wore a dark, minimalistic exoskeleton that clung closely to his body, outlining his frame without obscuring his movements, this suit, designed by Pilaf, had sleek black bands wrapping around his arms, legs, and torso, branching out from a central plate on his back, each section was connected by thin, flexible cables that moved seamlessly with his muscles, giving a subtle mechanical hum as he shifted his stance.

The exoskeleton didn’t look overly bulky or armored, yet it emitted a faint glow where the connectors met his joints, indicating the power coursing through it, enhancing his strength and agility, it made him faster, stronger, more durable, the perfect warrior to face Kakarot.

Kakarot’s eyes glinted with fierce excitement as he took in Yamcha’s new appearance, a thrill coursing through his veins, sure, the bandit might have turned to human tech for an advantage, which would have seemed dishonorable in another fight, but here, now, it only made the challenge more enticing, Kakarot’s grin widened, his Saiyan blood thrumming with anticipation as he sized up his opponent, his tail flickering back and forth, spiked with tension, and his hair standing slightly on end.

“Look, Yamaha, right? I don’t care much about your story or whatever,” Kakarot said, waving a dismissive hand as a smirk played on his lips, his eyes sparked with a mix of thrill and impatience. “You look strong, so come at me!”

Without another word, Kakarot lunged forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat, his muscles taut and ready for the clash, the moment stretched with electric tension, as he eagerly anticipated the bandit’s counter, already gearing up for a brutal exchange.

Yamcha’s face twisted with anger, his fists clenching tightly as he felt the insult sting. “It’s Yamcha, you bastard!” he yelled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “You didn’t even bother to learn my name?!” his body tensed and his suit powered up as he met Kakarot’s attack head on, blocking it, the attack sent him back a little, but he stood on his feet.

Kakarot and Yamcha clashed in the middle of the arena, their blows reverberating through the stone walls, each punch was met with a fierce counter, and while Kakarot held the advantage in raw strength, Yamcha’s speed and agility were heightened by the sleek exoskeleton he wore, allowing him to keep up, as he moved with a precision he’d lacked before, his fists lashing out in bursts, but Kakarot’s smirk only grew wider, his Saiyan blood drumming up with excitement at the thrill of a real challenge.

“Not bad, Yamaha,” Kakarot said, emphasizing the name with a smirk before he threw a powerful uppercut, catching Yamcha straight in the chin and sending him flying back. Yamcha clenched his jaw, refusing to back down, and his stance shifted as he prepared a counter.

Yamcha met him head-on, his teeth gritted in determination, with a fierce cry, he unleashed a flurry of punches, each blow guided by the speed enhancing circuitry of his suit, his strikes connected, the metallic hum of his suit giving them weight, but Kakarot hardly flinched, blocking each attack with his forearms and delivering a powerful counter with a knee to Yamcha’s ribs, the impact rattled Yamcha to his core, but he pushed through the pain, refusing to back down, he wouldn’t let what happened last time be repeated.

"That all you got?" Kakarot sneered, his eyes flashing dangerously, with a furious roar, he shot forward again, smashing Yamcha with a brutal left hook that sent him sprawling across the stone floor, scraping to a halt, blood trickled from Yamcha’s mouth as he picked himself up, eyes blazing with defiance.

"Don’t think you’re untouchable, Kakarot," Yamcha spat, his aura flaring as he readied his signature attack. “Wolf Fang Fist!” With a burst of speed, Yamcha attacked, his fists cutting through the air like a whirlwind, Kakarot barely raised his guard in time, and Yamcha’s fists became a flurry of strikes, each blow clawing at Kakarot’s defenses, his movements a savage blur, until one blow slammed into Kakarot’s cheek, snapping his head to the side, while another landed hard in his gut, forcing him back, now he was wide open, as strike after strike landed on him, drawing blood from the saiyan.

But Kakarot’s recovery was swift. With a sudden, vicious movement, he blocked Yamcha’s next punch, twisting his arm back with a bone-crushing grip, he grinned, wiping blood from his lips with his free hand, his eyes gleaming with raw, savage excitement. "Finally!" he growled, his voice low and dark. "You might actually be worth my time!"

Without hesitation, Kakarot launched his counterattack, each move more brutal than before, he swung his fist at Yamcha’s chest, the impact sending the bandit stumbling back, following up instantly, Kakarot delivered a punishing knee to his ribs, then slammed his elbow into Yamcha’s back as he fell forward, he hit the ground hard but managed to roll back to his feet, breathing heavily as he steadied himself.

Seeing an opening, Yamcha gritted his teeth and surged forward, attempting another strike, Kakarot sidestepped, his tail whipping around as he reached to grab Yamcha in a move he’d used on their first encounter, confident that he’d grab him again. But this time, Yamcha’s eyes were sharp, prepared, as Kakarot’s tail coiled around him, Yamcha seized the chance, slamming his foot down onto the tail with all his might.

Kakarot’s eyes widened, his muscles seizing up in an instant as a jolt of pain shot up his spine, he let out a pained gasp, momentarily stunned, and Yamcha took advantage of the lapse, delivering a powerful punch to Kakarot’s face, then a kick to his chest that sent him skidding back.

Kakarot steadied himself, shaking off the lingering pain in his tail, and let out a low, furious growl, his bloodlust refocused on Yamcha, his movements grew sharper, more precise, each strike aimed to break Yamcha down piece by piece, Yamcha fought back with everything he had, sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to keep up with the Saiyan’s relentless assault, but Kakarot was unrelenting, each hit driving Yamcha closer to defeat.

In a final, brutal strike, Kakarot’s fist slammed into Yamcha’s chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling across the arena floor, before Yamcha could recover, Kakarot was already over him, his shadow looming over the defeated bandit, eyes blazing with fury and intent to finish the fight for good.

“You’re better, sure, but you’re still a weakling and a coward too, allying yourself with that cowardly emperor and using human technology to try and keep up with me, the fact you still failed only serves to prove how pathetic you truly are.”

Yamcha gritted his teeth, blood dripping from his lips as he struggled to push himself up, his body battered, but still alive, still fighting, his fingers dug into the ground, but before he could even think to respond to Kakarot’s taunt, a scream tore through the air, one that signaled to the bandit that his companions had done it.

“Kakarot!” Bulma’s voice pierced his rage, filled with fear.

Bulma’s voice, sharp with terror, cut through the haze of adrenaline clouding his thoughts, Kakarot's head snapped around, and his focus instantly shifted from his fallen opponent to the source of the cry.

Bulma, his Bulma, was trapped, Mai had her by the arm, a gun pressed to her head, while Shu stood close by, his sword gleaming menacingly, panic and rage surged through Kakarot’s veins in equal measure, drowning out everything else, without thinking, his body moved, muscles coiling as he shot forward, determined to tear through the two who threatened her.

But Yamcha wasn’t done, the moment Kakarot turned his back, the bandit made his move. His suit, still humming with energy, shifted, and a mask slid into place, covering his face.

And with a single, focused blast, Yamcha unleashed a thick, concentrated cloud of sleeping gas directly at Kakarot, the gas enveloped him in an instant, too quickly for him to react, Kakarot's movements slowed as the fumes took hold, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay conscious, his eyes flickering with worry as he looked toward Bulma one last time before his strength failed him, and he collapsed, unconscious, to the ground.

Yamcha straightened, catching his breath, his eyes darting between Kakarot’s fallen form and Bulma, a hint of satisfaction mixed with lingering frustration in his expression as he took in his victory.

Mai's grip on Bulma tightened as she held the girl in place, her expression full of satisfaction as Bulma thrashed in her hold, her fear palpable. Bulma’s voice was shrill with panic. "What did you do to Kakarot?"

Mai’s response was a sharp, cruel smile as she pinned Bulma down further, her hand pressing firmly against the girl’s shoulder. "He's nothing but a temporary inconvenience," she sneered. "He’ll wake up soon enough."

Bulma’s eyes darted toward Kakarot’s unconscious form, her heart pounding in her chest. "No! This is not supposed to end like this! Kakarot is strong, he- he can’t be defeated like that!"

Ignoring the frantic girl, Mai’s attention shifted to the side, where she quickly noticed the case on Bulma’s belt, with a quick motion, she yanked it from her, cracking it open with a sharp snap, her eyes gleamed as she discovered the last of the Dragon Balls.

"Finally!" Mai said with a grin, her voice filled with triumph. “I found the Dragon Balls!"

Yamcha, still slumped on the ground, his body aching from the fight, couldn’t help but crack a satisfied smirk as he heard her words, he tried to stand, but the toll of his efforts had drained him. "Good work, Mai... I knew I could count on you," he muttered, his voice ragged but pleased.

But as Mai counted, she could only count five of them. “We’re missing one still!”

Yamcha looked over at Kakarot, he realized the kid must have the last one, he tried searching for it and found the four-star Dragon Ball underneath the kid’s armor. “It’s here, I found it.”

Mai knelt down to him, lifting him with surprising ease, and helped him to his feet, her expression full of worry but also admiration. “Good one! I knew you could win, let’s get moving, Pilaf will want to see this."

Shu, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold, muttered to himself “Good work, Mai… As if I wasn’t here helping too… Well, guess I will take the kid.” now approached Kakarot’s unconscious form, with a grunt, he grabbed the saiyan, dragging him across the floor with difficulty.

Bulma struggled beneath Mai’s grip, her thoughts racing with fear for Kakarot and herself. "No! Let go of me!" She twisted and jerked in vain, but Mai’s hold was unyielding.

With Kakarot incapacitated and the Dragon Balls secured, Yamcha, Mai, and Shu began to make their way out, taking Bulma hostage in tow, the victory was bittersweet for Yamcha, his mind racing over the events of the fight, the bandit’s pride had been salvaged, but at what cost? Kakarot was still stronger, and now Pilaf would get his wish, he liked Mai a lot, and Shu was cool too, but Pilaf, he couldn’t help but feel like maybe he was as much of a threat as Kakarot.

As the group returned with their captives, the tension in the air was thick, Pilaf’s eyes gleamed with malice as he eagerly awaited their return, the tiny emperor paced in anticipation, rubbing his hands together in delight.

"Ah, excellent! Excellent!" Pilaf exclaimed, his voice high-pitched with excitement. “You’ve done well, all of you, I knew you could do it!”

Something about the whole situation felt wrong to Yamcha, he had captured Kakarot and Bulma, sure, but now what? Pilaf’s plans didn’t sit well with him, especially when it came to the fate of the girl, Bulma, and Kakarot, while he was a monster in his eyes, he was also just a kid, now that the anger had subsided, Yamcha was reconsidering if he really deserved to just be killed so ingloriously.

Pilaf, seeing the doubt in Yamcha’s eyes, gave him a sly smile. “Now, let’s get them out of the way, shall we? Toss them in the holding cells for now, Yamcha, we can deal with them later, I’m sure you’re exhausted after that fight, you deserve some rest.”

Yamcha was relieved by the sound of that, at least Kakarot and Bulma would be safe for now, confined and locked up. “Good idea,” he muttered under his breath, trying to shake off his unease as he moved toward the door.

Mai, still gripping Bulma firmly, and Shu, dragging the unconscious Kakarot, followed him as he led the way to the holding room, the room was spacious, but it had a window ceiling, an odd detail that Yamcha didn’t think much of at first.

"Throw them in there, Yamcha," Pilaf called out from behind them, his voice tinged with glee. “They’ll be kept locked up for now. I have a few plans for them later, but for now, it’s best to let them rest a little before their final fate.”

Yamcha turned to Pilaf, nodding. “Right. I’ll lock them in.” But something felt strange. He glanced back at the room, noting the high ceiling with its large glass window, something was wrong here.

He stepped into the room, dragging Kakarot’s body in first, followed by Mai, who shoved the screaming Bulma in after him, Yamcha locked the door with a key, but still, that nagging feeling lingered in the back of his mind.

“Alright, they’re secured, they’ll be fine for now,” Yamcha said, but Pilaf’s voice immediately rang out with a sinister undertone.

“Oh, they’ll be more than fine,” Pilaf said, a dark chuckle bubbling from his throat. “They’re perfectly fine in there, in fact, they’re in the perfect spot for their little accident.”

Yamcha’s eyes snapped to Pilaf in confusion. “What do you mean ‘accident’?” His voice faltered, a sinking feeling spreading in his chest.

Pilaf’s grin widened wickedly. “The room’s window is designed to allow the sun’s heat to build up, by the time it rises in the morning, that little ‘holding cell’ will become a furnace, they’ll burn alive in there!”

Yamcha’s heart sank. “No... you can’t... you said they’d just be locked up!” His voice cracked as the realization hit him hard, the room wasn’t just a holding cell, it was a death trap.

Pilaf’s laughter filled the air as he saw Yamcha’s expression change. “Ah, yes, but that’s the fun of it, Yamcha, they’ll burn under the sun’s heat, it’s the perfect way to deal with them, by morning, they’ll be nothing but ashes!”

Yamcha’s face went pale, his chest tightening with guilt and anger. “I-I didn’t know... I didn’t mean for this!” He wanted to run back into the room, to break the door down, but Pilaf stepped forward, blocking his way.

“You’ve already played your part, Yamcha, now, leave it to me,” Pilaf said coldly, his eyes gleaming with malice. “It’s over, there’s nothing you can do now.”

Bulma's face contorted with a mix of fury and fear as she heard the exchange. "You cowards! Every single one of you!" she screamed, her voice raw with emotion. "You think you can control everything with the Dragon Balls?” She turned to Yamcha. “You're too weak to face Kakarot head-on in a fair fight, look at all you needed to win and still lost! Instead, you hide behind these pathetic schemes!"

She turned her blazing eyes to Pilaf, her anger intensifying. "And you, Pilaf, you're the most pathetic of them all! A short, weird-looking tyrant with a massive inferiority complex! Is this your grand plan? Burning us alive? You're nothing but a cowardly, sadistic freak! I hope that Kakarot wakes up and kills you!"

Pilaf stood frozen for a moment, his face contorting with shock and rage at the insult. His mouth opened in disbelief, eyes widening before narrowing in pure, venomous anger. “You-you dare insult me?!” His voice was a low, guttural growl.

Yamcha’s stomach twisted at Bulma’s words, but he didn’t answer, she was right, Puar stepped up beside him, looking at him with concern. “Yamcha, are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice soft but worried, Yamcha’s eyes flickered, guilt and doubt eating away at him, but he forced a smile.

“Yeah, just... feeling a little uneasy,” he muttered, his voice low, his head hanging. The truth was, he felt horrible. He’d walked right into Pilaf’s trap, believing that the fight was over, but now, his actions were sealing Kakarot and Bulma’s fate, the thought of them dying in such a horrific way made him feel sick.

Now, that they are all settled in, let’s go outside and summon this dragon!” Pilaf ordered, his tone full of eagerness and joy, his dreams finally being realized. “We’ve got bigger plans, let them die in the morning, by then, the whole world will be mine!”

Yamcha stood motionless, unable to move, his mind still racing over what had just transpired, he was supposed to be a hero, but now... now they were locked away, and it was his fault, the truth was undeniable, they would burn alive in just hours, and he might’ve just signed the world over to this tyrant.

Now outside, Pilaf’s laughter echoed as he busied himself with the Dragon Balls, he was too eager to waste any more time, the world was on the brink of his grasp, and nothing could stop him now.

Inside their soon to be graves, Bulma slumped against the cold, stone floor, her breath shallow, her body sore from Mai’s rough handling, the weight of everything, the hopelessness, it had drained her, her eyes flicked over to the still unconscious Kakarot, his chest rising and falling faintly, but he didn’t wake, desperation clawed at her throat.

“Wake up, Kakarot!” she cried, the words sharp and broken, she crawled over to him, her hands trembling as she tried to shake him awake. "Please... please, wake up!" But there was no response, her voice cracked as she pulled him up slightly, her tear-filled eyes staring at his unmoving form.

She looked up, her gaze drawn to the ceiling, the glass window above. The full moon was hanging low in the sky, its light flooding the room, casting an eerie glow across the stone floor, there was still time, she knew there was still time, but as the hours would tick away, Pilaf would fulfill his dark wish, and she could almost feel the heat of her impending doom, the overwhelming sense of helplessness.

“Please, Kakarot, this isn't how it was supposed to end," she whispered, a sob escaping her lips. "I... I can’t do this alone... I don’t want to die, not like this.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, crying softly as she held him tighter, her face pressed against his chest, hoping, praying for some miracle, Kakarot was hurt, bleeding even from the bandit’s attacks, even if he woke up would he still be able to fight?

And then, in the stillness of the room, a faint rustle broke the silence.

Kakarot’s eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurred at first, the world spinning in his mind, Bulma’s voice, filled with fear and hope, echoed in his ears as he slowly turned his head toward her, she was staring at him, her eyes, she was crying.

"Kakarot...?" she whispered, her voice a mixture of relief, sadness and fear.

His gaze locked on her, but before he could respond, his eyes shifted upward, meeting the full moon's gaze through the glass above.

Chapter Text

As Kakarot’s gaze locked onto the full moon, a sudden surge of fear gripped his mind, No, not now, not here. His heart pounded violently, each beat echoing in his ears as a primal energy stirred deep within him, a cold sweat broke across his skin as he clenched his fists, his voice catching in his throat, he tried to move, to speak, to warn her.

“Bulma…” he managed, his voice hoarse and choked, his body beginning to tremble. “Get… away... from me.” But his words barely came out as a whisper, a sharp pain tore through him, cutting off his voice, making him gasp for breath, the primal energy in his veins was growing stronger, overwhelming, uncontrollable.

Bulma’s face twisted with worry as she took in his pale, terrified expression. “What? Kakarot, what are you talking about?” she asked, bending closer, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Are you hurt? What’s going on?”

“Run,” he rasped, his voice breaking as his whole body convulsed. “Please… run… now.”

Bulma’s brow furrowed in concern, her grip on his shoulder tightening, her eyes searching his face for answers. “What? No! Even if I could, I’m not leaving you, did that bandit poison you? Are you hurt?” Her voice cracking with worry. “What are you afraid of?”

Kakarot’s eyes flickered, darting between her and the moon above, and his breath came in ragged gasps as a terrible, familiar pressure began to mount in his chest, every muscle in his body felt as if it were burning, stretching, he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the primal urge clawing its way to the surface, but his body had already begun to betray him, his eyes remained wide open, his heart pounded harder, and a low growl escaped his throat, sending a shock of fear through him.

“Bulma… please…” he whispered, barely able to keep his voice steady as he fought to hold onto himself. “I can’t… control it.”

Bulma’s gaze flicked up to the full moon shining above through the glass ceiling, then back to him, her expression morphing from confusion to horror. “Kakarot, what’s happening to you?” she whispered, her voice trembling, she reached out, her hands resting on his shoulders, trying to anchor him, but she felt his body begin to tremble under her touch, his muscles tensing, rippling.

“Kakarot?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper now, her fingers gripping his shoulders as if she could hold him back from whatever was taking over him. “Please! Talk to me! You’re scaring me!”

But Kakarot couldn’t respond. His mouth opened as if to speak, but all that came out was a feral snarl, his body convulsed, each muscle pulsing and stretching, his face twisted, his teeth bared, as his shoulders broadened, his arms lengthening, muscles bulging beneath his skin. Bulma stumbled back, her eyes wide, heart pounding, as his shape began to contort, shifting into something monstrous, his shadow growing and spreading across the stone floor, his eyes turning red.

“Kakarot!” she screamed, her voice shrill with terror as she took several shaky steps back, her mind reeling. “What’s happening to you?!”

The guttural growl that escaped his lips barely sounded human, and his eyes, once warm and familiar, took on a wild, unfocused gleam, his face twisted in a pained grimace as he struggled against the transformation. Kakarot, stay in control! he screamed in his mind, but his thoughts became a jumbled, disjointed panic. He normally welcomed this with pride, but now, he was desperate, he fought to hang on to his fading awareness, knowing Bulma was right there, right beside him, vulnerable, within reach of the creature he was becoming.

Kakarot, stop it! don’t lose control! he thought, the last fragments of his consciousness slipping further, his mouth opened, as if to scream, to warn her more, but all that came out was a guttural growl, echoing off the walls as his body continued to expand, the last, lingering thought he clung to was one of terror, he couldn’t hurt her, he couldn’t let the Oozaru transformation end her life. But the overwhelming force surged forward, consuming him, until his mind slipped into darkness, the last sight he remembers being that of Bulma’s horrified face before he vanished into the monstrous transformation.

And in that dreadful moment, the transformation was now complete, the beastly Oozaru rose to its full size, his armor expanding with him, his sheer size enough to destroy the chamber they were confined in, as he shattered trough Pilaf’s castle, the terrifying roar of the Oozaru echoing across the land.

Outside, Pilaf, Shu, Mai, and Yamcha were preparing to summon Shenron, each of them looking eagerly at the glowing Dragon Ball, Pilaf rubbed his hands together with a smug grin, stepping forward to deliver the final phrase. “All our planning... Finally, the world is ours!”

But before he could utter another word, a massive shadow rose over the castle ruins behind them, an enormous figure blocking the moon’s light, Pilaf turned, mouth agape, the words dying on his lips, standing where his fortress once loomed was a giant ape, its fangs glinting, red eyes burning with primal fury.

“What... What is that thing?” Pilaf’s voice quivered, barely a squeak.

Mai and Shu stood frozen in place, terror widening their eyes, while Yamcha, gripped by the same fear, felt his heart pound as he backed away, instinctively readying himself to flee.

“Boss… Boss, we have to get out of here,” Shu stammered, clinging to Pilaf’s robes. “That thing... it’s going to kill us!”

Pilaf’s hands shook, his face pale as he looked up at the towering beast, his eyes darted between the Dragon Balls scattered on the ground, and the enormous ape now roaring in the distance, the moment of victory was slipping from his grasp.

“No! We can’t run now!” Pilaf’s voice was a mixture of fear and fury, his sharp features twisted in an expression of defiance. He gripped the Dragon Balls tightly, his mind racing. “We’ve worked too hard for this, and our wish is so close! We summon the dragon now! before it’s too late!”

But even as he spoke, his voice trembled, he could hear the ground shaking beneath him, and when he looked up, the Oozaru’s massive power shaking the planet itself. He took a step back, then another, his resolve starting to waver.

Mai and Shu were still frozen, their faces pale, wide-eyed with terror. Mai clenched her fists, but her body refused to move, as though the beast's presence had paralyzed her completely. Shu's voice cracked as he tugged desperately at Pilaf's robes.

“We can’t stay here!” Shu practically screamed. “Boss, please! We need to go! The thing's gonna-”

Yamcha, who had been watching the beast in stunned silence, felt a heavy pit in his stomach, his heart raced, and he could hear his breath coming in shallow gasps, the sight of the beast and its sheer power, it was overwhelming, but, that tail, there was no way, but.

“Is that... Kakarot?” Yamcha whispered, his voice breaking, his heart thudding in his chest, a cold sweat ran down his face as he took in the beast’s monstrous form, the red eyes gleaming with wild power, the furious roars shaking the earth beneath them, the thought gnawed at him. Was that really Kakarot? Was the kid hiding such a monstruous form and power? How could Yamcha even hope to catch up to something like this?

His gaze shifted from Pilaf to the towering beast, and then back to the Dragon Balls, he wanted nothing more than to escape, to get away from the chaos and danger that was closing in on them, but his eyes lingered on the beast for a moment longer, his gut twisting with a mix of dread and disbelief.

“Pilaf, this is insane!” Yamcha shouted, his voice filled with desperation as he stepped forward, pushing the Dragon Balls away from Pilaf’s trembling hands. “I’m not risking anyone’s life for this stupid wish! We need to leave! Now!” His voice cracked, his chest tightening as he turned to face Pilaf fully, fury and fear battling in his chest. “Do you hear me? Now!”

“Fool!” Pilaf spat, his voice laced with venom, he desperately tried to cling onto the Dragon Balls and chased after the ones that had escaped him. “We are on the cusp of greatness! The Dragon Balls are right here, within our reach! You’re not running anywhere, and you certainly aren’t going to ruin my chance to summon the dragon. You might be afraid, but I… I certainly am not!”

Yamcha gritted his teeth, a deep sense of frustration bubbling inside him, the sound of the great ape’s roars filled the air, shaking the earth beneath them with every movement,  “I’m not afraid,” Yamcha growled, his voice full of defiance, though his hands trembled slightly. “But I’m not going to stand here and let you put everyone in danger for a wish! We’re outmatched. You’re outmatched! You’re insane if you think we’re staying!”

Pilaf's eyes narrowed, his expression seething with anger. “I will summon the dragon, and nothing, not even your incessant whining, is going to stop me.”

Yamcha took a step forward, ready to argue further, but before he could say another word, the ground suddenly trembled with a violent force, a massive boulder, dislodged from the castle by the beast, came hurtling toward them. The sound of the rock tearing through the air was deafening, and Yamcha’s eyes widened in shock as the jagged boulder rocketed toward them, it would hit Mai.

“Mai! Look out!” Yamcha shouted.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Yamcha lunged forward, his body moving on instinct, he grabbed Mai and ran out of the way just in time, sending her tumbling to the ground as the boulder crashed into the spot where she had been standing only a second before.

“Are you okay?” Yamcha panted, his voice strained, his eyes scanning her face.

Mai, still a little shaken from the close call, dusted herself off and stood up, her cheeks flushed, she looked at Yamcha, her expression a mix of surprise and gratitude. "Yamcha… you... you saved me," she said, her voice softer than usual, her eyes not quite meeting his. There was a brief pause before she added, flustered, "Th-thank you."

Yamcha, still catching his breath, glanced over at her, realization striking as he himself blushed too, however, he was too distracted by the looming threat of the Oozaru to fully process the moment, but he couldn't help the brief flutter in his chest at her words.

The beast let out another deafening roar, shaking the ground beneath their feet, Yamcha looked at the monster one last time, feeling the weight of its power pressing down on him, Pilaf was struggling to find the last Dragon Ball he just lost, he really wouldn’t run, but the destruction had only just begun.

What the hell are we supposed to do against something like that?

The Oozaru didn’t seem to notice them just yet, it threw back its head, bellowing a furious roar as if proclaiming its dominance over the ruins, in the next instant, it turned, eyes flickering across the ground until they landed on a small figure scrambling out from beneath a pile of rubble.

Bulma.

His blood-red eyes gleamed as they fixed on the tiny figure struggling to her feet, dust and debris clinging to her clothes, Bulma, her face pale and wide-eyed, glanced back over her shoulder, a jolt of terror surging through her as the monstrous ape’s gaze locked onto her, her heart thundered in her chest, and her legs felt like they’d forgotten how to move, she didn’t want to believe it, that this hulking beast, towering over the landscape, was Kakarot.

“No… no, this can’t be happening,” she whispered, her voice lost amid the distant rumbling of the Great Ape’s heavy footsteps, each step shaking the ground beneath her, her mind raced, clouded with fear, Kakarot was no longer her protector and savior, he was a raging beast, this creature was pure fury, a primal force bent on destruction. She turned, adrenaline finally kicking in, and stumbled forward, willing herself to move faster.

The monster roared again, a sound that echoed across the valley and rattled through her bones, she scrambled out, leaving the remains of the castle, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but her eyes darted back just in time to see the beast tearing through in pursuit, flattening the stone beneath its weight, its massive arms swung wildly, ripping down walls, and chunks of debris exploded, the whole castle was already gone.

Bulma’s mind filled with panicked, frantic thoughts as she ran, her eyes darting around, searching for anything that might serve as shelter, a hiding spot, or some escape, but there was nothing but barren ground and scattered debris, each step she took, the beast seemed to close the distance effortlessly, a shadow that grew darker, looming ever closer, running was futile.

“No, Kakarot! Please!” she screamed, her voice breaking, barely able to believe the words she was saying, she didn’t know if he could hear her, if any part of him remained conscious beneath that monstrous form, but she clung to the hope that maybe, somehow, he would stop.

A sharp, anguished scream tore from her as the ground shook violently, and she stumbled, glancing back to see the monster’s massive hand swinging down toward her, she forced herself to run faster, her legs burning with the effort, but her foot suddenly caught on a jagged piece of rubble.

She fell forward with a yelp, landing hard on her hands and knees, a sharp pain flaring up her leg as her ankle twisted beneath her, Bulma bit down on her lip to stifle a cry, feeling hot tears of pain and fear spring to her eyes, her heart raced as she tried to scramble to her feet, but her injured leg buckled under her weight, and she fell again, barely catching herself on her hands.

And then, with a bone-jarring tremor, the beast’s giant hand swept down and snatched her, trapping her between his massive fingers, the air was forced from her lungs as he lifted her effortlessly, holding her high in the air, Bulma’s terrified gaze met the creature’s crimson eyes as they focused on her, she felt a surge of panic, her heart pounding so hard it was painful.

Bulma struggled, screaming, kicking desperately as she tried to wriggle free, her hands pushing trying to push away the beast, but her efforts were futile, his grip was tight, unyielding, like steel, and her strength was nothing against it, the more she tried, the more she ended up hurting herself.

“Kakarot! Please!” she cried, her voice choked with fear, her vision blurring with tears, the realization struck her like a blow to the chest, this was Kakarot, but not the Kakarot she knew, this wasn’t her protector anymore, he was going to kill her.

The beast let out another fierce, deafening roar, and she watched in horror as he lifted his other hand, his fingers flexing as if preparing to crush everything in his grasp, he was lost in his own fury, the world reduced to rubble and prey, driven only by the Oozaru’s boundless rage. Bulma’s terrified sobs were drowned out by the chaos around them, her mind racing as she tried to hold on to a faint, desperate hope that Kakarot would snap out of it.

But as his hand began to close in, something flickered within him, something distant, a glimmer of familiarity breaking through the fog of rage. Kakarot’s gaze settled on her face, streaked with tears, her voice, a small, desperate sound, reached him, not as words but as an echo cutting through the haze. Kakarot! Please!

The Oozaru hesitated, its breath coming in harsh, snarling gasps. That face…there was something about it, something buried deep in the instinct-driven mind of the beast, his hand, claws ready to strike, paused, trembling, caught between fury and a sudden confusion.

Fragments of memory began to swim up from the dark depths, murky and faint but undeniable, he saw the glint of her laughter, felt the warmth of her small hand on his shoulder, heard the determination in her voice urging him forward. The flickers of recognition flared brighter, like stars breaking through the night, pulling at him, grounding him, his grip loosening.

He remembered meeting her, saving her countless times, he himself being saved by her, cooking, eating together, carrying her on his back, racing each other, their whole adventure flashing trough, his snarl softened, its bared fangs easing back as it stared down at her. Conflicting emotions warred within his mind, the primal instinct to destroy clashing against this strange, powerful recognition. She wasn’t prey, she was someone… important… special to him.

Kakarot had to try and control himself, as these fragmented memories surged through his fading mind he managed to start slowly controlling himself, Person… brave… pretty… friend… Bulma… That was it, her name, Bulma, she wasn’t a threat or prey, she was important, the only one he cared about.

His thoughts slowly came back to him, he tried to focus, he had her on his grip, the rage still uncontrollable, he needed to unleash that rage, but, he couldn’t do it on her, he had to try focusing on something else, that was when flickers of his training on the cliffs of Mount Paozu seeped into his consciousness, hazy but insistent.

His latest accomplishment was the ability of a rudimentary thought process, the same he had managed to regain now, Mountain... Blast... Back then, that was what he managed to think, a hint of pride mixed with his fury, the memory of directing a blast at a distant mountain, being able to direct his rage at a clear target, with the same intent and focus he needed now, if he wanted to keep this woman safe from himself.

He clung to the memory of the mountain, the clear image of a distant target. Target… threat… me… save… Bulma…

The Oozaru’s massive form swayed as he struggled to redirect the fury pulsing within him, his grip on Bulma slackened slightly, his red eyes darting around the destroyed remains of Pilaf’s castle, searching for anything that could act as an outlet for his towering rage. For a moment, Bulma’s breath hitched in her chest as she looked up into his face, hoping to see even a glimmer of her Kakarot, something familiar she could reach.

But his gaze shifted, and his grip tightened once more, his teeth bared in a primal snarl, there was no great target in sight, nothing to release his fury upon, the rage, building up and desperate for release, began to rise in him again, threatening to consume any restraint he’d managed to muster.

Then, just out of the corner of his eye, he saw them: a small group huddling together at the edge of the wreckage. Pilaf, clutching the Dragon Balls, his face twisted with anger and frustration, Mai, who had been the one to harm Bulma, now looking panicked and trying to shrink away from sight, and Yamcha, frozen between defiance and fear, staring up at him with an expression of dawning horror, the bastard who used sneaky tricks to win.

A low, rumbling growl built in the Oozaru’s chest, and his lips curled into a monstrous grin. Target… anger… release…

With Bulma still clutched in his hand, he lunged forward, each thundering step shaking the ground as he bore down on the Pilaf gang, his eyes blazed with renewed fury, the realization that these figures before him were threats, annoyances, enemies, fueling his rage. He would tear them apart, Bulma’s pleading cries became muffled, lost in the roaring fury as Kakarot, overcome by the primal instincts of the Oozaru, barreled toward Pilaf, Puar, Mai, Shu and Yamcha, a living storm of wrath.

Pilaf’s high-pitched, triumphant laugh echoed through the rubble as he clutched the four-star Dragon Ball that he had lost in his earlier confrontation with Yamcha,  holding it aloft as though it were the crown jewel of his conquest. “Yes! Now I will become ruler of the world!” His voice practically dripped with glee.

Mai and Shu exchanged weary glances, both terrified, but Yamcha only rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze trained on the distance, where the monstrous Oozaru stood. "Are you crazy? Just hurry up, Pilaf! Make your damn wish! We need to get out of here before that thing kills us all!” Yamcha's voice was tense, his patience for Pilaf’s delusions of grandeur fraying with each second, if they didn’t summon the dragon fast, they might not live to see another sunrise.

Pilaf sneered, brushing off Yamcha’s frustration. “Quiet, coward! I’m not running from some oversized gorilla! I’ll soon be the most powerful man alive, and then you’ll see who’s really in charge here!”

Yamcha clenched his fists, grinding his teeth, he’d already been fed up with Pilaf’s arrogance, but this? He was oblivious to his imminent death in his delusions. “That ‘oversized gorilla’ isn’t going to wait around for your speeches! Look, either summon the dragon now, or we’re getting out of here without you!”

Just as Pilaf opened his mouth to argue, a shift in the air made them all pause, Yamcha could barely breathe. As he watched the Oozaru, something shifted, a predatory focus in the beast’s movements that hadn't been there before, its rampage stilled, its eyes scanned the ground, the destruction it had wrought lying in smoldering ruins, but when those blazing red eyes landed on Yamcha, it was like time stopped.

He felt a deep, instinctive chill crawl up his spine, rooting him to the spot, the Oozaru’s gaze was filled with more than simple rage, there was a twisted glint of intent, like a predator savoring its next meal. A cold sweat broke out along Yamcha’s forehead as he realized, in that instant, that the beast wasn’t just destroying randomly anymore. It had him in its sights. Him.

The Oozaru’s lip curled back, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth in a grin that sent waves of terror coursing through Yamcha’s veins, his body screamed at him to run, to fight, to do something, but all he could manage was a shaky step back as his entire body shook. The look on the beast’s face was nothing short of malevolent, a knowing, merciless grin that promised pain, suffering, and inevitable death.

In that moment, Yamcha felt utterly, completely powerless, this wasn’t a simple monster, it was a force of destruction, a being of raw, ferocious wrath that seemed to take pleasure in the fear it inspired, Kakarot, wasn’t just a monster, he was the end, he would destroy this world. His heart hammered against his ribs, each beat louder than the last, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps as the Oozaru lowered itself, preparing to charge.

All thoughts of escape faded, the only thing he could focus on was one undeniable fact, he was prey, and this, was his hunter.

The beast didn’t wait, it lunged forward, each step making the ground quake as it charged toward them with terrifying speed, a blur of muscle and fury, Yamcha's instincts screamed at him to move, to fight, to flee, but for a moment, he was paralyzed, gripped by sheer terror as the Oozaru bore down on them.

Yamcha’s voice rang out, sharp and frantic. "Pilaf! There’s no time left! We have to run now!" His words were desperate, almost pleading, but Pilaf dismissed them with a wave, eyes fixated on the Dragon Balls he was arranging carefully on the ground.

“I’m not leaving!” Pilaf snapped, more out of stubbornness than sense. "I’m about to summon the dragon! With my wish, none of this will matter. You’ll see!”

Mai’s face flushed with fear and frustration, her voice cracking as she clung to Yamcha, glancing desperately between Pilaf and the monstrous figure approaching. “Sire, please, this isn’t the time! That thing… it’s coming straight for us! We need to get out of here!”

Pilaf’s face twisted in irritation, waving her off. “Silence, Mai! If your little boyfriend here hadn’t put up a fuss, we’d be halfway through our wish already! This is all his fault, and I’ll be punishing all of you later!” He glared at her, seemingly oblivious to the looming threat.

Shu trembled beside him, his voice small and pleading. “But, sire… it’s getting closer…”

But Yamcha’s patience had snapped, he gritted his teeth, fear blazing into anger. “To hell with your wish!” he shouted, his voice laced with raw frustration, he knew if he stayed a moment longer, they’d all be dead, there was no more time for arguments, no time to try to change Pilaf’s mind again.

Without hesitation, he lunged forward, grabbing hold of Mai, Shu, and Puar in one swift motion. “If you’re too stupid to save yourself, Pilaf, then that’s your problem,” he spat, feeling no guilt as he tightened his grip on his friends, his legs burst into motion, driving him forward with a ferocity he hadn’t known he possessed, each step a pounding testament to his will to survive, his need to protect the ones he cared about.

His heart pounded, adrenaline fueling every stride, his breaths ragged, chest heaving as he pushed himself harder than ever, he glanced back only once to see Pilaf shouting after him, calling him a coward, his words ringing hollow as he stubbornly continued with the ritual. But then, Pilaf’s taunts faltered, his face going pale as his eyes widened in horror.

Yamcha didn’t need to look back to know what Pilaf had seen, his heart pounded, a sick dread twisting inside him, but he pushed forward, running as if his life depended on it, because it did.

As the ground trembled beneath him, Pilaf’s bravado shattered, and cold fear seized his heart, he looked in the direction Yamcha had fled, a pitiful, desperate glint in his eyes as he reached out, his voice cracking, “Y-Yamcha! Wait, come back! I was wrong! Help me! Please!”

But his words faded into the night, lost to the thunderous footsteps of the towering Oozaru, Kakarot’s enormous figure loomed before him, blocking out the sky, his terrifying gaze fixed solely on Pilaf, the towering beast took one slow, deliberate step forward, casting a monstrous shadow over the trembling emperor.

Kakarot paused, leaning close enough that Pilaf could see his gleaming fangs in the moonlight, and, chillingly, Pilaf could swear that the Oozaru wore a dark, predatory grin. Bulma, trapped and helpless in the creature’s hand, could only watch, her heart pounding with dread, yet strangely pitying the fate about to befall the emperor, she hated him, but she knew, all too well, what was coming.

A deep, guttural voice rumbled from Kakarot’s mouth, each syllable labored and laced with unmistakable menace. “I’ve... come... for you.”

The monstrous words echoed in Pilaf’s mind, and he recognized them, the same threat Kakarot had made earlier, now hauntingly fulfilled, his last shuddering breath caught in his throat as Kakarot’s fist tightened, the darkness closing in, and the final thing he saw was the beast’s eyes gleaming with ruthless purpose, he would never get his wish, everything ends here.

A booming sound echoed across the desolate, moonlit landscape as Kakarot’s massive fist descended, the ground splintered and fractured beneath the brutal impact, a shockwave radiating from the point of impact, carving a deep, jagged crater into the Earth, the tremor rippled across the land, starting an earthquake that could be felt along thousands of miles. And when the dust settled, all that remained of Pilaf was a faint smudge within the shadowed depths of the crater, a scattered trail of dust bearing silent witness to the end of his ambitions.

Beneath the Oozaru’s fist lay a cluster of orange orbs, half-buried in the rubble, for a fleeting moment, something stirred in the beast’s mind as his gaze lingered on the scattered objects, they felt almost familiar, calling to something buried deep in his memories. But the recognition faded, swept away in the unyielding flood of rage that consumed him, overtaken by a single, burning instinct of destruction.

The Oozaru lifted his head, throwing it back as a triumphant, blood-chilling roar tore through the night, reverberating through the mountains, proclaiming his victory over all who dared to defy him, his primal gaze swept the ruins and landed on a distant figure, barely visible through the haze of dust. Yamcha, running at breakneck speed, his form shrinking as he fled, recognition flashed, a malevolent smirk spreading once again. The hunt was not over.

With a mighty leap, Kakarot launched forward, his colossal form thundering across the terrain, his sights locked on his next target, as each leap of the monstrous creature sent tremors across the ground, his savage eyes blazing with relentless fury as he closed in on his prey, the smell of dust, smoke, and fresh blood thickened the air, blending into an atmosphere of dread as the Saiyan beast pursued Yamcha, who ran with all the speed his legs could muster.

Yamcha's chest heaved as he looked back over his shoulder, eyes wide with horror, in the dark, he could see Kakarot’s towering figure rising and falling with each bound, the monstrous ape tearing across the landscape, each step closing the gap between them with terrifying speed.

“Yamcha! He… he’s getting closer!” Mai’s scream broke through the sound of Yamcha's ragged breaths, her voice cracking with desperation as she clung to his arm, her face pale as she glanced back. Beside her, Shu and Puar clung on as well, their fear palpable. But even as fear clenched his heart, Yamcha forced his legs to move faster, to get them to safety.

But up above, a change shifted through Kakarot’s colossal form, he was getting annoyed, the bandit was getting closer, but he was so tiny, running so fast, Kakarot wanted to kill him already, to unleash his anger, maybe, he could blast him, ending the bandit in a glorious fashion.

Kakarot’s primal instincts surged within him, his entire being focused on one thing, destruction. Standing amidst the ruins, he arched his massive neck back, his jaw opening as a deadly blue light began to form deep within his throat, the energy swirled and crackled, pulsing with raw, volatile power that made the air around him vibrate, each second intensifying the blazing sphere in his maw, his eyes, filled with rage and bloodlust, locked onto the distant, fleeing form of Yamcha, who shrank in the face of the beast’s overwhelming fury.

The Oozaru’s breath was hot and ragged, each exhale like a miniature storm, the raw energy swirling dust and debris around him, his chest heaved as he drew upon every ounce of his rage and power, channeling it into the terrifying sphere that would be the harbinger of this planet’s doom. His pulse quickened, his primal instincts sharpening as the thought of killing his prey fueled his power even further, every fiber of his being reveling in the anticipation of annihilation. The blue glow grew, spilling over his fangs, illuminating his massive form in a menacing hue.

The light stretched across the battlefield, spiraling everywhere, casting a deadly spotlight over Yamcha, his pulse raced, as he dared to look back, only to be greeted by the horrifying sight of the monster preparing a blast of unimaginable force, one aimed directly at him. He felt its deadly heat even from afar, the brilliant glow casting a shadow in front of him, marking him as the target, his heart sank as his mind struggled to comprehend the immensity of the energy gathering within the monster’s jaws.

“This… this is it,” he whispered under his breath, his voice almost swallowed by the thunderous rumbling behind him, his instincts screamed at him to run faster, but his legs felt sluggish, the weight of impending doom pressing down on him, sapping his strength. Every step felt heavier as fear seized his limbs, his mind racing as he struggled to hold onto some shred of hope, but as he ran, the thought of escape seemed laughable, futile. The blast would come, and there would be no outrunning it.

“Yamcha!” Mai’s desperate voice jolted him, her wide eyes glancing back at the colossal figure and the deadly glow that grew ever brighter, but even her terror-laden scream seemed distant to him now, drowned out by the dreadful certainty creeping into his mind.

Yamcha’s eyes fixed on the ominous light of the Oozaru’s gathering energy, a silent resignation settling over him. I’m going to die here, he thought, his pulse hammering as the blue light grew blindingly bright, a luminous finality filling the night, there was no escaping it, the monster’s strength, its fury, it all culminated in a power this world had never seen.

Kakarot In his fury, as he readied himself, he almost forgot the delicate figure he clutched in his massive hand. Bulma, barely visible against the beast’s dark fur, was still held tightly, her breath hitching, heart pounding, as she felt the creature’s grasp tighten, she dared not move, dared not even breathe, hoping somehow, she would survive this chaos. Yet, as Kakarot’s bloodthirsty gaze focused on his prey, his grip slackened, the beast's focus shifting entirely to the thrill of the hunt, without a thought, he released her.

The world around Bulma slowed, the roar of the beast, the whistling air, the bright light of its blast, all blurring as she was tossed from the Oozaru’s grip, hurtling through the air. Her heart pounded as she tried to scream, but no sound escaped her throat. Time stretched, her mind racing through a flood of memories, faces of friends and family, regrets, dreams not yet realized, the unfinished journey, all flashing in moments of panic. This was it, she thought as her body plummeted toward the ground, helpless and broken.

Then, impact.

A sickening crack echoed through her ears as she hit the rocky ground, her back taking the full brunt of the fall, the jagged stones dug into her skin, ripping through her clothes, and her bones felt like they’d shattered upon impact, a searing, white-hot pain tore through her spine, ripping a sickening scream from her throat before the agony faded into numbness. Her vision clouded with darkness, and with dawning horror, she realized she could feel nothing below her waist, her arms lay limp at her sides, her fingers twitching weakly as she tried to move, but her body betrayed her, refusing to obey.

Blood trickled from her body, her breath came in shallow gasps, the weight of her injuries pressing down on her chest like a vice, a dull ache spread through her torso, sharp and persistent, but the sharp agony that had initially surged through her now gave way to a chilling, paralyzing numbness that seeped through her limbs. She couldn’t feel her legs, couldn’t feel anything below her chest.

Lying there, her body broken and useless, Bulma’s mind spiraled with despair. This is how it ends, she thought, as the deafening roars of the Oozaru filled the night air, and the world around her began to fade, the ground beneath her was cold, her skin prickling with goosebumps as her blood continued to seep into the earth, her life slipping away with each heartbeat.

The scream shattered Kakarot’s bloodlust, cutting through his rage like a blade, his massive head snapped toward her, the blue glow of his half-formed blast spilling over Bulma’s broken body, she lay crumpled on the ground, her limbs twisted at unnatural angles, blood pooling around her as her chest barely rose and fell. For a split second, he simply stared, confusion muddling his primal mind, but something else, deep within him, stirred, a feeling far more intense than anger or power, a raw, protective urgency.

The sight of her, so fragile and hurt, for a moment, he felt lost, his monstrous heartbeat racing as he stared down at her, desperation clawing its way through his primal instincts, images flashing trough his mind, her laughter, her brilliance, her defiant smile that always seemed to challenge him, she’d stuck by him, even when he was difficult, even when his power frightened her, and even though he couldn’t express it, she’d mattered in ways he hadn’t fully understood.

And now, she was slipping away, her life seeping into the ground before him, he hadn’t meant for this, didn’t want this, she was precious to him, the only one he cared about in this planet, these thoughts allowed him to achieve what he always desired in this form, control, they cut trough his instincts, allowing, finally, for clarity, but it came too late.

He felt the burn of energy in his mouth, the monstrous blast growing uncontrollable, demanding release, the power he’d built for destruction now felt like a curse, he couldn’t keep it contained, and yet he couldn’t let it go, not with her lying there, barely breathing. His heart pounded, wild and frantic, the beast within him struggling to think, to find a way. But the desperation building within him grew sharper, clawing at his mind, he wanted to stop, to drop to his knees and reach for her, to protect her. But how? In this form, he was only meant for devastation and rage.

Kakarot's gaze darted around, frantically searching for something, anything that could stop this nightmare, but nothing around him could save her, not the rocks, not the debris, and not his monstrous hands, and then his eyes fell upward, catching sight of the gleaming silver orb suspended in the night sky. The moon, it was the moon that had driven him into this form, that had turned him into the Oozaru.

The thought settled over Kakarot with a strange, profound clarity, in that instant, the truth became painfully clear, to save her, he would have to give up the very essence of his Saiyan power, the primal force that surged through him, that had given him strength beyond comprehension, he would have to cast aside the pinnacle of his might, the form that embodied all his warrior instincts, his rage, his power, his pride. But as he looked down at her broken, bleeding body, there wasn’t a shred of hesitation in his heart. She was worth it.

With that, he fixed his gaze on the moon, his intentions shifting entirely, the energy he’d gathered, meant to obliterate his fleeing prey, took on a new purpose. He had to rid himself of this cursed light, he had to tear down the very thing that held him in this form. Lifting his head, he channeled every ounce of his desperation and strength into the blast, making it even more powerful, his primal mind filled with the single desire to be free of the power that kept him from Bulma.

A thunderous roar tore through the world as Kakarot unleashed the blast, the blue light from the attack engulfed the entire landscape, illuminating every shadow around him, as the world was bathed in its glow as the beam ripped through the night sky, a brilliant streak cutting a path straight toward the moon.

The energy roared with fury, the force shaking the earth, sending tremors that radiated outwards, rolling through forests and mountains, reaching even the distant cities and islands. Trees bent and snapped under the strain, rocks dislodged and tumbled down cliffsides, and every creature within miles cowered or fled, the primal fear of something unstoppable.

As the blast neared its target, it grew in intensity, widening and brightening, transforming the night into a blinding day. Yamcha, who had managed to stumble further away, froze mid-step, eyes wide in horror and awe, his breath caught in his throat, he thought he was the target, but he was now watching in silent disbelief as the moon itself became the target of Kakarot’s wrath.

And then, in a single shattering instant, the blast collided with the moon. the light intensified, its brightness flooding the sky, casting a sharp, cold light across the land. The force of the impact sent a pulse through the atmosphere, a shockwave that seemed to ripple across the world, Kakarot poured even more energy into it, his desperation swelling, driving the blast to overpower his transformation.

The moon began to tremble and crack, fractures spidering across its surface under the relentless force, glowing cracks running like veins of light until, finally, it could withstand no more, in an explosion, the moon shattered, fragments bursting outward and scattering into the universe, swallowed by the vastness of space, leaving behind nothing but empty darkness.

Across the world, people looked up in terror as the sky itself seemed to break, the tremors reached across continents, and the sight of the destruction sent panic worldwide. In his distant island, Master Roshi stood silently, his eyes fixed on the sky, an unreadable expression on his face, he had seen many powerful things in his lifetime, but nothing that could match the sheer devastation he now witnessed. There was no one who could have prepared for this, a force powerful enough to erase the moon in a single, desperate moment, he couldn’t imagine any human being able to do so.

And then, silence, the blast faded, its light dissipating into the void, leaving behind a sky without its familiar moon, an empty space where light had once shone. Kakarot’s chest heaved, his gaze locked on the dark void he had created, his heartbeat thundered in his ears, still clinging to a single, desperate hope, that this sacrifice, this unimaginable release of power, would bring him back to her, that he would still be able to save her.

And as the last remnants of the moon’s destruction faded, Kakarot’s massive form began to shrink, the raw energy of his Oozaru state fleeing him, His armor shrinking back down alongside him as his hulking frame returned to his original size. The monstrous rage that had gripped him faded, replaced by a desperate clarity, a single thought consuming him he needed to save her. Now!

Kakarot took off in a sprint, his boots pounding the ground, heart racing as he ran to Bulma, his mind raced with dread and guilt, she had been in his grasp, helpless, and he’d let her fall amidst his rage, and now, lying in the rubble, there she was, her body motionless, her skin pale, but her eyes open, barely clinging to consciousness, as he dropped to his knees beside her, she turned her head, the faintest smile forming on her lips, in that moment her eyes no longer held fear or pain, only a fragile relief.

“Kakarot…” she whispered, her voice weak, trembling. “You… you’re here. I’m… I’m so glad… I… I knew… That you would… Save me…”

Her words hit him like a blow, piercing the last walls of his heart, tears stung his eyes, and for the first time in his life, he let them fall, he gently cradled her, careful not to harm her any further, his fingers trembling as he lifted her into his arms, she was so fragile, so small, and he could feel her life slipping away as she closed her eyes, each shallow breath like a countdown.

“I’ll save you… I’ll save you, I swear,” he murmured, his voice thick, raw with fear and desperation, he had to think of something, anything, but his mind was blank, gripped by the panic of losing her. Then, a memory surfaced, something he had seen in his earlier rampage. The orbs. The strange, glowing spheres that Pilaf had clutched, the ones he had stomped in his blind rage, those were the Dragon Balls.

They had power, didn’t they? Power to grant any wish, he didn’t understand exactly how, but he didn’t need to, all he knew was that they could save her, and that was enough.

Kakarot tightened his hold, set with determination, he had to find them, he had to reach them before it was too late, with one last look at Bulma’s face, he whispered, “Stay with me… please, just hold on.” And then he took off, faster than he had ever run, his heart pounding as he raced against time itself to find the Dragon Balls, to save her.

Kakarot’s breath came in desperate gasps as he finally reached the Dragon Balls, scattered in the crater left from his earlier rampage, with trembling hands, he gently set Bulma down, her body fragile and motionless, her breathing barely there, each breath seeming to come slower, weaker, he knelt beside her, his heart pounding as he took in her face, her faint, fading life force, he had no time to waste.

He reached for the Dragon Balls, his hands sweeping them together, they glowed faintly, their light pulsing as he gathered them in one place. Pilaf’s remains lay nearby, a smudge mark on the ground, a grim reminder of the destruction he had wrought. But there was no time for something so unimportant, he had to act. He arranged the Dragon Balls in a circle, their glow intensifying as he stepped back, his voice filled with urgency.

“Rise! Eternal Dragon!” he shouted, his voice carrying his desperation. “I summon you! Grant my wish! save her!”

The clouds swirled up above as the Dragon Balls flared to life, their glow increasing immensely, as something began to take form, and in an instant, the immense, serpentine dragon, Shenlong, appeared, even more massive than the Oozaru, the sight of him was stunning, his fierce gaze fixed on Kakarot, Shenlong’s eyes glowed a searing red as he surveyed the scene, his voice rumbling like thunder.

“You who have summoned me, state your wish.”

Kakarot, for the first time, found himself speechless, his words caught in his throat as he looked at the dragon, he could never have expected something like this, but as he looked down at Bulma, he took a breath, steadying himself, his gaze meeting Shenlong’s, determined.

“Save her… Heal her completely!” he commanded, his voice breaking slightly. “Please… bring her back to full health!”

Shenlong’s eyes glowed brighter, and a soft, golden light surrounded Bulma, enveloping her broken form, the light was warm, and as it covered her, Kakarot could feel its gentle warmth radiating outward, her shallow breaths grew stronger, her bruises and cuts faded, and the pale color returned to her cheeks, her body, once limp and motionless, slowly regained its vitality, her broken body seemingly mending itself back.

Then, as the light faded, Shenlong turned his gaze back to Kakarot.

“Your wish has been granted,” he intoned, his voice resonating with finality, “Farewell.” And with that, Shenlong vanished, the sky clearing as the Dragon Balls rose up and scattered throughout the world, their power used.

Kakarot fell to his knees beside Bulma, his heart pounding as he watched her stir, her eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, she looked confused, her gaze wandering before settling on him, relief flooded his chest, overwhelming and powerful, and he let out a shaky breath and tears he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Kakarot…” she whispered, her voice soft, but alive.

He closed his eyes, a deep sense of gratitude washing over him as he took her hand, and hugged her, she was safe, alive, and here with him, and he knew he would never let her get hurt again.

Bulma blinked slowly, her gaze drifting as if she were still lost between dreams and reality, fragments of memory resurfaced, jagged and vivid, the colossal, monstrous form of the Oozaru towering above her, the thunderous roars, the sensation of weightlessness as she’d fallen, and then... darkness.

Her breath quickened, panic creeping up her spine as she recalled the fall, the crushing pain, but just as fear began to seize her, she felt the warmth of strong arms around her, pulling her close in a gentle, protective embrace, she could feel his heartbeat, fast and pounding, his chest rising and falling unevenly, as though he were struggling to catch his breath. And then she looked up, meeting his face.

“Kakarot…” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, and she saw something she never expected, a tear streaked down his cheek, his eyes glassy with guilt and relief, so unfamiliar in his normally stoic and proud face.

“Bulma… I… I’m sorry.” His voice was low, trembling as he tightened his hold around her, as though he was afraid she would disappear. “I… I didn’t mean… I didn’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t… I was still too weak… I couldn’t… control it…”

Bulma blinked, feeling her pulse calm as she absorbed his words, her hand instinctively resting against his shoulder, grounding herself in his warmth, the memory of the monstrous form was fading, replaced by the boy in front of her, his face raw with regret, his arms, which had seemed so dangerous just moments before, now wrapped around her with a tenderness that surprised her, he held her as though she was the most fragile, precious thing in his world.

“I know,” she murmured, her voice shaky but certain as she reached up, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me… not on purpose.”

Kakarot’s head lowered, his eyes squeezed shut as he let out a shaky sigh, the guilt evident in every line of his expression. “I… I shouldn’t have… I should’ve been able to control it … You could’ve… could’ve died.”

She leaned her forehead against his, her own fears melting away in the warmth of his apology. “But I didn’t,” she whispered, her hand finding his and squeezing gently. “You saved me… that’s all that matters now.”

Kakarot shook his head, his voice hoarse, barely a whisper. “I’m… so sorry, Bulma. I should’ve… I should’ve done something sooner… I shouldn’t have let you get hurt at all.”

Bulma’s heart softened, and she offered a small, comforting smile, brushing a hand through his wild hair. “Kakarot… you did everything you could. And… I think I understand now,” she said softly. “I understand you better.”

He looked at her, his gaze vulnerable, his expression unguarded as he searched her face, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he was feeling, yet the words wouldn’t come, all he could do was pull her close, resting his forehead against hers once more, his breath steadying as he felt her warmth.

“I’ll protect you, Bulma,” he vowed quietly, his voice filled with determination. “I won’t let anything… or anyone… ever hurt you again.”

Bulma’s fingers traced the outline of his hand, feeling the strength in his grip. “I believe you, Kakarot,” she whispered, a softness in her gaze.

As they sat together, the last traces of tension began to fade from the air, replaced by a quiet warmth that settled between them, Kakarot’s eyes, normally so fierce and intense, softened as he looked at Bulma, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She matched his smile, her hand resting against his as they shared a moment of calm, it was a rare sight, a fierce and brutal Saiyan warrior and a brilliant and beautiful human inventor, both sharing something gentle and unspoken.

The next morning, the early sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow as they rode in their car, the engine hummed steadily beneath them, the only sound accompanying their quiet, comfortable presence. Kakarot sat next to her, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery, but there was something different about him today, his mood had shifted so drastically, it was as if a cloud had lifted. He was smiling, genuinely smiling, in a way she hadn’t seen from him before, the sight was both strange and endearing.

Bulma couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight of him, her heart warmed by the transformation she saw before her, her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, and as she did, she felt a flutter in her chest that she couldn’t ignore. It had taken her a while to realize it, to truly process everything that had happened, but now, as she watched him, the truth slowly settled in her mind.

She had started to fall for him.

She let her gaze drop from his smile to the road ahead, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that had taken root in her heart. He was just a few years younger than her, but in many ways, he seemed so much farther removed from her world, a boy, an alien, a force of nature sent to conquer and destroy, she had first seen him as a monster, dangerous, ruthless, and untamed, but the longer they’d spent together, the more she’d seen him for what he truly was, someone complex, layered, and real.

Kakarot had become more than the brute who’d stormed into her life all those weeks ago, he’d become someone who fought for her, who had sacrificed for her, someone who, despite the violence that lived in him, had revealed a vulnerability she wasn’t sure he even recognized. And, despite all his flaws and the darkness of his goals, she had managed to reach him, change him, his heart, rough and unrefined as it might be, was his own, and somehow, it had become hers too.

She also wasn’t the same person she had been when this journey had started, the girl who had been so driven by superficial desires, by trivial goals, was no longer there, Bulma had changed, molded by the experiences, the battles, the choices she’d made, she had fought, stood by him, and even killed, but all of that had made her stronger. More importantly, it had opened her eyes to something she hadn’t expected, she understood Kakarot, she understood the way he saw the world, the reasons behind his actions, and the goals that drove him, she wasn’t like him, but she saw merit in his views.

And somewhere between the chaos and the violence, she had realized that she wasn’t just in awe of him anymore, she was falling for him. Not the monster she once feared, not the cold conqueror she had thought he was, but him, the alien who had nothing in common with her yet fought for her in ways no one ever had.

She smiled to herself, the realization settling more comfortably now, it was strange, but not wrong. It was simply the truth. “You know… you’re not so bad Kakarot.”

Kakarot blinked at her, clearly puzzled. “What?”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she tried to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, nothing, just thinking. I hope you like West City, maybe… maybe you should stay there.”

He tilted his head, still unsure of where this was going. “Stay?” His tone was casual, but she could see the curiosity in his eyes. “Why?”

Bulma hesitated, her gaze drifting out the window for a moment as she collected her thoughts. “I don’t know, you’ve got your reasons for not wanting to, training and conquering and all that, I get it… but maybe you could stick around for a bit, see what it’s like. I mean, West City’s the biggest in the world, there’s a lot to do there… and, well, I think you might actually like some of it.”

Kakarot was silent for a moment, considering her words, his brow furrowed slightly, as if weighing the idea, finally, he spoke, his voice a little more thoughtful than usual. “I’ve always been curious about what human cities are like, but I never really had a reason to check them out, other than to wipe them out.”

Bulma's heart fluttered, and she couldn’t help but smile. "Well, if you want, you could give it a try, well not the wiping the city out part, but… just staying, I think it would be good for you... and I would really like it.”

Kakarot glanced over at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave a slight nod. "If you really want me to, I’ll give it a shot, I don’t mind trying it. For you."

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, but then, her smile faltered just a bithe hesitated, then turned to him with a more serious expression. “Just… promise me something, okay?”

“What’s that?”

Kakarot glanced over at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave a slight nod. "If you really want me to, I’ll give it a shot. I don’t mind trying it. For you."

Bulma felt a flutter in her chest at his words, a warmth spreading through her, something that settled deep and unfamiliar. It was strange, hearing him say it so simply, as if his agreement meant more than just trying out the city—it felt like a subtle acknowledgment of something deeper between them. She quickly masked the warmth with a casual smile, but the feeling lingered.

Her smile faltered just a bit as she hesitated, then turned to him with a more serious expression. "Just… promise me something, okay?"

Kakarot raised an eyebrow. "What’s that?"

Bulma bit her lip for a moment, her fingers nervously tapping the steering wheel, the request felt small in her mind, almost trivial considering, it was Kakarot, but she still had to say it. "Promise me… no killing anyone, or destroying anything, I know you like to train, but we can’t have you wrecking the place every time you get frustrated, alright?"

She half expected him to brush it off, knowing how he was when it came to training and fighting, the killing part, she knew that was too much to ask. But she wanted to see if he’d even try to keep things under control, at least a little.

Kakarot looked at her for a long moment, his eyes thoughtful but still stubborn, but then, he shrugged slightly. “I can’t promise the destroying part, or not getting into trouble. But I won’t kill anyone, well, not unless I have to, or if they really bother me.”

Bulma laughed softly, though it was more in disbelief at the absurdity of even having to request that. “You really are impossible, you know that?” She rolled her eyes, but her smile returned " Just try not to make a mess of things, okay?"

Kakarot’s grin widened. “I’ll try.”

As the car approached West City, the towering buildings and bustling streets began to come into view, the city's vibrant energy a stark contrast to the quiet, remote roads they had traveled. Bulma couldn’t help but feel a wave of excitement wash over her, the familiar buildings and the busy city life sparking memories of joy, but she also knew what was coming, she hadn’t been home in weeks, and explaining her absence would be one thing, explaining Kakarot? That was another challenge entirely.

The car pulled up to the driveway, and Bulma’s house came into view, Capsule Corp, it’s logo stamped in the building’s entrance, Kakarot leaned back in his seat, taking in the surroundings with wide eyes, his gaze shifting from the neatly manicured lawn to the towering structure, he knew Bulma’s family was rich, but looking at this, comparing it to any other house even in the city, it was stunning.

"So... this is your place?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and awe.

Bulma gave him a proud smile. “Yeah, my dad invented capsule technology and many other things, we’re the richest in the world.”

As Bulma and Kakarot enter the grand Capsule Corp building, Bulma is nervous, glancing at Kakarot every few moments, she knows her mother, Panchy, is kind of an airhead, and her dad, he is quite nonchalant, so she can only hope they don’t find Kakarot too… weird, to say the least.

They finally reach the main lounge, where Panchy sits comfortably, drinking a glass of wine, her radiant smile as welcoming as ever. She glances up, her eyes lighting up when she sees Bulma.

“Oh, darling! You’re back! It’s been so long! How was the trip?” Panchy bustles over, immediately fussing over Bulma, checking her over as if she’d been away for years.

“It was fine, Mom. We traveled a lot, I didn’t even get to wish for anything in the end, and-” Bulma begins, but Panchy cuts her off, noticing Kakarot.

“And who’s this handsome young man with you?” Panchy’s voice is as airy as ever, oblivious to Kakarot’s intense, unwavering stare.

Bulma laughs nervously, her cheeks warming. “Oh right, uh… Mom, this is…Kakarot. He helped me gather all the Dragon Balls, we’ve been traveling together.”

“Oh, how nice! Quite the strong young man,” Panchy says with a friendly smile, looking Kakarot up and down with fascination. “So, Kakarot, where are you from, dear?”

Kakarot meets Panchy’s gaze directly, unflinching. “I’m a Saiyan, we come from Planet Vegeta, I got sent here to conquer and-” His tone is straightforward and intense, no trace of humor or attempt to soften his words.

Bulma’s eyes widen as she quickly waves her hands, trying to laugh it off. “M-Mom, it’s, uh… just a cultural thing! Right, Kakarot? Like a...figure of speech?”

Kakarot glances at her, realizing she’s trying to tone things down. “But when I landed here, I stayed on Mount Paozu,” he adds, attempting to play along, he looks back at Bulma, seeking some form of approval, but she just sighs. The alien secret’s out, there’s no pulling it back now.

Instead of being shocked, Panchy’s face lights up with intrigue. She tilts her head, a bigger smile forming. “Oh, so you’re an alien! Like that little space cop, Jaco, how fascinating!” She chuckles, unbothered. “Well, how has Earth been? I hope Bulma showed you around the world.”

Kakarot nods, his voice still serious. “Yes, we traveled to get the Dragon Balls, we didn’t get our wish, though, I transformed and ended up-”

“Ha ha! Isn’t he funny, Mom?” Bulma cuts in, her face now beet-red. “He’s got this whole, uh, fantasy thing going on, thinks he can just transform when he gets mad or something, ha ha…”

Panchy gives Bulma a playful nudge, laughing. “Oh, Bulma, I get it! He’s not just your friend, is he? He’s a little young for you, but so strong and…wild.” She winks, her smile mischievous.

Bulma nearly chokes. “Mom, no, it’s not… it’s nothing like that!”

Kakarot, genuinely confused, chimes in bluntly. “I grew up in the wild, after I killed my master, I had to survive on my own.”

Panchy’s laugh bubbles out, entirely unfazed. “Oh, he is blunt, isn’t he? Don’t let him scare you, Bulma! He sounds like he’d fight an army just to keep you safe.”

Bulma, flustered beyond belief, stammers, “Uh, yeah…sure…ha ha…”

Panchy smiles, patting Bulma’s shoulder. “Well, I’m just going to leave you two to it, then, settle in, take a look around! Your dad’s tinkering away in his lab if you want to say hi, dear.”

“Sure, Mom…” Bulma sighs in relief as Panchy leaves, still feeling the heat in her cheeks, she glances up at Kakarot, muttering, “I can’t believe that actually went better than I expected.”

Kakarot, entirely unfazed, just shrugs. “What’s the problem? I only told her the truth.”

Bulma hisses, dragging him aside. “You can’t just go telling everyone you’re an alien! Much less that you want to conquer and kill everyone!”

Kakarot crosses his arms, looking at her as if she’s the one being unreasonable. “But it’s true, they’ll all know it one day.”

“Oh my Kami,” Bulma groans, rubbing her temples. “I must be getting way too used to your insane Saiyan antics, look, you can’t act like this in the city, okay? Especially around my parents.”

Kakarot raises an eyebrow. “Fine… But why did you bring me here and let me see them, if I can’t act like myself?”

Bulma sighs, exasperated. “Because…” She flushes slightly, her earlier thoughts coming back to her. “Well… because first we need to fix up your armor and the scouter! They’re both barely holding together after everything we went through.” She heads towards the hallway leading to her father’s lab, waving him to follow.

“Come on, let’s just get this over with before you start saying anything else crazy.”

Bulma leads Kakarot down the hall, breathing a sigh of relief as they approach her father’s lab, she knows her dad is a lot more laid-back and far less inquisitive than her mom, which might just save her from another round of damage control.

Inside the lab, Dr. Briefs is hunched over a complex machine, muttering to himself as he adjusts something with a tiny screwdriver, he looks up when he hears them enter, his usual calm, friendly smile spreading across his face.

“Ah, Bulma! Welcome back.” He glances at Kakarot with mild interest. “And who’s this? A friend from your trip?”

Before Kakarot can answer, Bulma quickly jumps in. “Uh, yes, Dad! This is Kakarot, he’s an alien so, don’t ask too many questions, he helped me with, um, a lot of things on our journey.” She sidesteps any further explanation and adds, “We just need a bit of help fixing his armor and his scouter, they’re a bit… worse for wear.”

Dr. Briefs nods, taking it all in stride. “Ah, I see, I see! Well, let’s have a look.” He motions for Kakarot to come over to the workbench. “Go ahead and take the armor off, son, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

Kakarot nods, reaching up to remove his Saiyan armor, it’s still cracked from his fight with the Ox-King, and it seems his second fight with the bandit left a mark aswell. As he slips it off, underneath he’s left wearing a basic blue gi that’s frayed at the edges, covered in dirt, and clearly well-worn.

Dr. Briefs raises an eyebrow, his expression still casual but with a hint of curiosity. “Quite the… rugged look, eh?” He chuckles, then gestures to the scouter. “And this gadget here is yours too? Looks like it’s seen better days.”

He inspects the Saiyan armor with growing interest, running his fingers over its sleek, unfamiliar design. “Now this… this is fascinating. I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s so light yet strong, better than anything here on Earth, this could revolutionize protective gear!”

Kakarot nods, a proud smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, it’s designed to take a hit while staying flexible, that’s superior saiyan technology for you.”

Dr. Briefs nods, clearly impressed. “Incredible, I could learn a lot from this material.” He then picks up the scouter, his curiosity piqued. “And this?”

Kakarot answers simply, “It reads power levels.”

Dr. Briefs grins. “Amazing! I might be able to tweak it and make it more durable or more precise, this could revolutionize energy scanning!”

Bulma, a bit surprised by her father’s enthusiasm, says, “You seem quite excited, Dad. We can have a look at it later-”

“Oh, no, darling,” Dr. Briefs cuts her off with a smile. “You must be so tired, go have fun with your friend. i’ll be spending my day with these beauties here.” He gestures to the armor and scouter, already engrossed.

Bulma pauses, surprised. “Well… alright then, guess I can show you the city and…” she stops glancing at Kakarot, who is still wearing his worn, dirty blue gi. “Actually, we can start by getting you something a bit more fresh to wear.”

Kakarot crosses his arms, looking reluctant. “I’m not interested in playing dress-up, I like this gi.”

Bulma, unfazed by his bluntness, grins enthusiastically. “Oh, trust me, I’m gonna find you some great stuff to wear! No way you’re walking around in that torn-up gi all the time, come on, we’re going on a shopping spree!” She grabs the reluctant Kakarot, taking the saiyan on his first trip trough the city.

Chapter Text

Yamcha sat on the porch of the Ox-King's palace, his gaze unfocused, mind drifting back to the terrifying image of that monster’s destruction, the sight still lingered, vivid and chilling. Next to him, Mai was curled up, her head resting in his lap, holding on tightly as though any moment the world might shatter again, her grief was palpable, and she hadn’t spoken much since they'd arrived here.

Shu sat close by, his head lowered in sorrow, looking smaller and more fragile without Pilaf’s constant presence, while Puar hovered close to Yamcha, occasionally glancing between Mai and Shu with quiet concern.

Mai’s voice was barely a whisper. “He wasn’t the easiest person to work with, he could be…selfish, bossy…” She trailed off, her expression a mixture of sadness and something else, something hard to pin down.

Shu nodded solemnly. “Yeah, he yelled a lot, tortured us even… and he always wanted us to do all the work.” He scratched his head, trying to keep his tone light, though his face looked lost. “But…he was still our leader, you know, we were a team, it’s weird, like… who are we supposed to follow now?”

Yamcha glanced between the two, feeling a strange mix of sympathy and, oddly, relief, in his mind, Pilaf had been little more than a stubborn, scheming bastard, someone he hadn’t respected, especially not after his stubborn refusal to escape when he had the chance and his trickery. But it was different for Mai and Shu, they’d been together a long time, through thick and thin, and the fact that they were grieving him, even with all his flaws, made sense.

Chi-Chi approached the small group on the porch, holding a tray of freshly baked cookies, their warm, sugary scent cutting through the somber atmosphere. Her father followed closely behind, his heavy steps causing the porch wood to creak under his weight.

“Here,” Chi-Chi offered gently, setting the tray between them. “Figured you could use a little something sweet.” She smiled encouragingly, though her eyes held a trace of worry as she looked over the group, Mai managed a small nod of gratitude, taking a cookie without lifting her head from Yamcha’s lap. Shu muttered a quiet “thanks” and grabbed one too, nibbling it absently as he stared off into the distance.

The Ox-King settled beside Yamcha, a thoughtful expression on his face. “So… that kid… Kakarot… he’s the one that caused all this?” He glanced at Yamcha, who still looked distant.

Yamcha exhaled, his voice laced with bitterness. “Yeah. That thing he turned into, the ‘Great Ape’, they call it, according to those legends of the monkey devil, he's not just some kid. He’s… he’s a monster.” His fists clenched, his gaze hardening as he recalled the sight of the rampaging beast. “I knew he was dangerous from the start, but… nothing like that… The moon itself is gone, that thing can destroy the Earth if left alive.”

The Ox-King raised an eyebrow, a bit of surprise mixed with hesitation. “Kakarot seemed like a good kid to me when I met him, well, sure, he’s rough around the edges, but I didn’t think he’d go and… well, go wild like that, he did say some brutal stuff though…”

Yamcha shook his head. “You haven’t seen him in his true form.” He clenched his jaw, a flicker of anger sparking in his eyes. “That ‘kid’ nearly killed us all, I barely got Mai, Shu, and Puar out of there in one piece, and he didn’t care, all he wanted to do was destroy everything in his path.”

The Ox-King scratched his chin, frowning. “It could’ve been an accident, perhaps he lost control, or maybe-“

“It doesn’t matter, the way he talks and acts, he is a menace to this planet, he seems to only want to fight and kill, I am lucky to have survived two encounters with him, barely alive on both…” The humiliation he suffered on both encounters played through Yamcha’s mind, his hatred and fear of Kakarot only deepening.

The Ox-King nodded thoughtfully, though concern weighed heavy in his eyes. “You’ve seen more of this than I have, but… if he’s as strong as you say, then maybe you should consider going to someone else, I don’t think I can help you any further Yamcha.”

Yamcha scoffed, but the tension in his shoulders softened, curiosity piqued. “What do you suggest?”

The Ox-King’s gaze grew serious. “Master Roshi, the strongest fighter alive. If anyone can train you to face that… It’s him, even if you think Kakarot’s unbeatable, Roshi might be able to give you a fighting chance.”

Yamcha mulled it over, jaw tight, the thought of training again, becoming stronger, strong enough to stand up to Kakarot, ignited a flicker of hope. “Where can I find this Master Roshi?”

Chi-Chi stepped forward, her eyes glinting with determination. "Actually, I was looking for him not too long ago! I have an idea where he might be.”

The Ox-King frowned, looking down at his daughter with concern. “Chi-Chi, there’s no need for you to go, this is dangerous, and I don’t want you getting mixed up in-”

“But I want to help!” Chi-Chi’s voice was firm, and she glanced at Yamcha, seeing the weight of frustration and sadness in his eyes. “You’re my friend, Yamcha, and if you’re going up against that monster, I want to be there to help, and besides,” she added with a small, determined smile, “I’ve wanted to train too, you’re so determined, I want to be like you!”

Yamcha looked at her, surprised, he could see she wasn’t going to back down, and somehow, knowing he’d made such an impact on someone, fueled his pride and self-worth again.

The Ox-King sighed deeply, running a hand over his face, his concern written plainly in his eyes as he looked at Chi-Chi. "Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You don’t have to get involved in all this fighting... You’re still so young, and I’d hate for you to be in harm’s way."

Chi-Chi smiled up at her father, grabbing his hand reassuringly. "I know, Daddy, but I can’t just stand by and do nothing, Yamcha’s our friend, and Kakarot, he’s a bully! If there’s a way I can help stop him, I want to try!”

The Ox-King sighed but gave her a reluctant nod, patting her head. "Alright, Chi-Chi, I know I can’t stop you when you’ve made up your mind, but if anything goes wrong, promise you’ll come right back here, and take care of each other out there." He glanced meaningfully between her and Yamcha, giving the young bandit, his pupil, an almost protective look.

Yamcha felt the surge of his own resolve rekindling, their words gave him a renewed sense of purpose. He looked over at Mai and Shu, hesitating a little as he met their eyes. “Look… I’m sorry about Pilaf, I know things were complicated with him, but if you don’t want to go any further with me, I’d understand. It’s dangerous out there, and especially now, if you-“

Mai cut him off mid-sentence, taking a step closer, her eyes warm yet steady as she looked up at him, before Yamcha could react, she leaned in, her hands gently finding his shoulders as she pressed her lips softly against his, the kiss was tender, lingering just enough to send a shock through him, warm and soft and entirely unexpected. Yamcha's eyes widened, his mind blank as he felt her breath on his skin, the warmth of her so close to him, for a second, the world around them seemed to fall away, the distant sounds and even his own worries fading into the background.

“Are you kidding?” Mai’s voice was soft but resolute, her eyes meeting his with something genuine and warm that made his heart pound. “You’ve been a true friend to us, Yamcha. Pilaf… was like family, but you helped us get out of there alive. Shu and I, we’re with you now, wherever you’re going, we’ll follow.”

Yamcha’s face flushed red, his mind struggling to process the kiss, the way her lips had felt, her words, everything, it had been his first kiss, and he suddenly felt lightheaded, his vision going a little fuzzy. “U-uh…” was all he managed to stammer, a goofy, dazed smile slowly spreading across his face, he was dangerously close to fainting.

Puar snickered, hovering on his shoulder with a knowing smile. “You look like you’re about to fall Yamcha.”

Shu laughed, scratching his head. “Guess you’ll be our leader now huh? The Yamcha gang.”

Yamcha cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, though the blush still lingered on his face, he nodded at Mai and Shu, grateful. “Thank you... All of you.” Going from a lone bandit, to now a hopeful hero surrounded by friends, in such a short time, the bandit’s life had turned upside down, all from a single meeting with Kakarot, his rival.

The group had all left in a cramped helicopter, which now hovered down to Roshi’s island, the group stumbled out one by one, stretching their stiff limbs. Yamcha’s eyes fell on the tiny island of Kame House. “This is… smaller than I expected,” he mumbled.

Roshi emerged from Kame House, eyeing the newcomers with a mix of surprise and exasperation, behind him stood a blue-haired woman who waved cheerfully, and a bald, serious-looking kid in a monk’s robe, Roshi’s gaze landed on Mai, and his whole demeanor shifted, straightening with exaggerated elegance, he brushed the dust from his clothes and grinned. “Well, well! What brings such a lovely young lady to my humble island?” he asked, eyes practically twinkling as he floated closer to her.

Mai merely glanced at him with a polite, half-hearted smile before turning back to Yamcha. Ignored, Roshi sulked momentarily, but then shifted his attention to the others, clearing his throat. “Ahem! And what, uh, brings all of you here?”

Yamcha stepped forward, his tone urgent. “Master Roshi, I’m Yamcha, and I’m here because I need your help, I want you to train me, it’s… it’s a matter of life and death.”

Roshi raised a brow, folding his arms and letting out a thoughtful hum. “Training, hmm? And why do you need that, young man?” He cast a skeptical glance over the entire group, focusing especially on Yamcha’s clothes. “And you seem to already be using the turtle school’s gi… did the Ox-King start training or something?”

“Well… Sort of, I trained with him, this was a gift.” Yamcha answered. “I grew stronger, but me and Chi-Chi here, his daughter, we need to grow even stronger.”

“You don’t look half-bad as is, you can just go back to him, you see, I’m already training someone right now,” he added, gesturing to the bald kid who was eyeing Yamcha with a cautious look. “And with all of you here… my island’s going to be downright cramped.”

The bald kid, crossed his arms, nodding in agreement. “Yeah! I had to prove myself to be here.” He for some reason points at the blue-haired woman as if she was the reason he can train. “I’m not about to let just anyone show up and take over Roshi’s training! I earned this spot fair and square!” he said, shooting a competitive look at Yamcha.

But Yamcha’s expression turned serious, even desperate. “Master Roshi, please, I’ve faced a kid named Kakarot, twice now… and each time, I was helpless. He’s not just strong, he’s a monster, I barely escaped with my life,” he admitted, glancing down, his fists clenching. “And one of our… friends… He wasn’t so lucky… Kakarot doesn’t just fight, he… he’s relentless, cruel, and one day, he’ll destroy anyone who gets in his way and maybe even the planet, I can’t let that happen, but I can’t stop him as I am now.” His voice cracked slightly, the frustration clear.

Roshi’s expression hardened, his usual carefree demeanor slipping away as he processed Yamcha’s words, the old master’s eyes narrowed, his mind turning back to his brief encounter with Kakarot, the boy's terrifying potential hadn’t been lost on him. Roshi had dealt with powerful beings in his long life, but the ruthless determination and rage that Kakarot displayed had set off alarms in his mind. Now, hearing Yamcha’s plea, he saw the weight of the situation for what it was.

“I’ve seen that kid, and I know exactly what you’re talking about.” His voice dropped lower, becoming more serious, as though the full weight of Yamcha’s words had just sunk in. “That kind of power… it’s dangerous, and it doesn’t care about who’s in its way. Kakarot may look like a kid, but he’s a force of nature, I know it was he who destroyed the moon.”

Yamcha’s fists clenched harder at the thought of the boy, remembering the chaos he’d caused. He wanted to fight back, to become someone strong enough to protect the people he cared about, his breath caught in his chest, knowing how true Roshi’s words were. Kakarot wasn’t just a strong fighter, he was a demon.

Roshi stepped forward, his posture straightening. “You want to stop him?” His voice was filled with resolve now, carrying the weight of someone who knew how hard the road ahead would be. “Then you need to stand proud, don’t cower before him, and don’t let him make you doubt your strength, the fight you’re preparing for, it’s not just about power, it’s about your heart, your will to keep going, no matter how hard things get, Kakarot might seem like a monster, but that doesn’t mean you can’t stand tall and fight back.”

He locked eyes with Yamcha, his gaze steady. “This is your chance to be more than just a survivor of his attacks, it’s your chance to be the one who stands up to him, to stop him before he becomes something worse than what he already is if you can hold your ground, fight with everything you have… then you might just have a shot. But remember this, it won’t be easy. Not by a long shot. You’ll need to push yourself farther than you’ve ever gone.”

Yamcha felt a surge of determination in his chest, like a fire being stoked deep within him, this wasn’t just about training, this wasn’t just about beating Kakarot, this was about standing proud, about facing his fears and fighting for what he believed in, for the people he cared about. It wasn’t just for himself anymore, it was for everyone.

“Thank you, Master Roshi,” Yamcha said, his voice steady and filled with newfound conviction. “I’ll stand tall, I won’t let Kakarot destroy everything, everyone, that I care for.”

Roshi gave him a single nod of approval, his usual playful demeanor replaced with something far more serious. “Good,” he said simply. “Then let’s get started. I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before.” He paused, taking a look around. “We will need to move first… this island is full.”

Yamcha nodded, his heart racing, but his spirit was steady now, the path ahead was uncertain, and he knew the fight against Kakarot would be brutal, but with Master Roshi’s training, and the determination that burned within him, Yamcha felt ready to face whatever came next.

The bald kid, Krillin, stood quietly now, his arms unfolding as he processed the weight of Yamcha’s words, he glanced at Roshi, unsure but starting to realize the gravity of the situation, Yamcha wasn’t just asking for more training, he was asking for the kind of training that could save the world, seems like he would need to step up as well.

To all present, one thing was clear, Kakarot was a threat to this world.

Kakarot sat cross-legged on the floor of Bulma’s room, dressed in some casual, human clothes, simple black pants, and a fitted dark blue t-shirt with the capsule corp logo, Bulma had made for him. Somehow, the clothes fit his wild demeanor yet softened his appearance, making him look almost like a regular city kid.

He leaned in, staring intently at the book in front of him, his brows furrowed in concentration as Bulma pointed out the letters and helped him sound out each word. “So… ‘cat’” he said slowly, looking up at Bulma for confirmation.

“That’s right! You’re getting the hang of it.” she said, an encouraging smile lighting up her face.

Kakarot grinned, glancing back down at the page, his determination as fierce as ever. “Hah, too easy, Saiyan language was harder than this!”

Bulma stifled a laugh, amused by how he managed to boost his ego in any situation. "You just read a few words, try reading the whole sentence then.’”

Kakarot squinted down at the sentence, piecing it together bit by bit. “The... cat in the... hat... sat on a... mat?” he read aloud, his brows furrowing as he worked through each word.

Bulma’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and she clapped her hands. “Perfect! See, you’re practically a poet already.”

Kakarot gave a dismissive huff, shrugging as though reading were no big deal. "Yeah, yeah, it’s just words," he muttered, but the slight smile on his face gave him away, despite his efforts to act indifferent, there was a flicker of pride in his eyes as he glanced back down at the book, clearly satisfied with his progress.

It had been a month now since Kakarot had started staying with Bulma and her family in West City, the bustling, structured life in Capsule Corp was nothing like the wilderness he was used to, and with Bulma's insistence that he learn and act like a normal kid, training had taken a backseat, most days, his only exercises were simple routines, nowhere near the intense sparring he craved.

Adjusting to this world was a strange shift for Kakarot, yet here he was, under Bulma’s patient, and sometimes exasperated, guidance, learning things he’d once dismissed as trivial. Reading, math, the history of Earth, she covered it all, turning each lesson into a challenge he could tackle, which, much to her surprise, Kakarot was thriving, proving to be an unexpectedly sharp student, especially when the material could be linked to any sort of strategy he could apply.

Early on, Bulma’s family tried sending him to a local middle school, but that ended in disaster, on the very first day, Kakarot challenged his teacher to a fight after a disagreement when he was being taught about space, insisting that it was “the only real way” to show his teacher the truth. Security was called, the teacher was left unconscious, and Kakarot stormed out, completely unapologetic, thanks to Bulma’s quick intervention, and a generous donation from her father, he narrowly avoided jail time.

Bulma closed the book with a satisfied smile. “Alright, that’s enough for today, I’ve gotta run a few errands.”

Kakarot perked up, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “Can I come with you?”

Bulma hesitated, a shiver running down her spine at the memory of their last “outing.” He’d mistaken street performers for martial artists and nearly started a fight with them, and if that wasn’t enough, he’d barged into a dojo uninvited, challenging everyone there and leaving the place in ruins.

“Uhh… maybe it’s best if you hang back here,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “Besides, I’m not sure West City is ready to handle Kakarot again.”

Kakarot crossed his arms, his tail swishing in frustration. "This place is so boring, if I can’t train, then I at least want to get out and explore a little." He looked at her with a mix of determination and impatience. "C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Bulma sighed, glancing sideways, remembering a long list of chaotic events that had ensued whenever Kakarot tried "exploring." She knew keeping him cooped up was like trying to tame a wild animal, pointless and bound to backfire.

“All right, fine,” she said with a reluctant nod, though she could already feel her nerves beginning to fray. “But you have to stick with me, and don’t go out looking for a fight!”

Kakarot grinned, practically bounding toward the door. “Fine, fine… but don’t expect me to just watch if anyone tries something funny.”

“Oh, by the way, my dad should be done with the scouter, took him a while, he was quite busy, but he said it’s better than ever.” Bulma told him.

“Ha! Better than Saiyan technology? Doubtful, but I’m glad to finally have it back.” Kakarot said getting up, pride in his voice and eager to get his scouter back on his face, he missed the feeling, and was curious to see if he had grown any stronger.

“You say that, but that armor of yours is better than ever isn’t it?” Bulma replied with her own pride for her father’s inventions, the truth was, the Brief’s ingenuity had made Kakarot’s armor even more durable and flexible, and the design was kept similar.

Kakarot found it hard to admit, but it was true, he could only really complain about one thing. “That hideous logo you inserted, it ruined the whole design! I don’t want to be branded by the Capsule Corp.”

She rolled her eyes, and the two made their way to the lab, Dr. Briefs presented them with the new and improved scouter model. “Now, I’ve kept it compact, but you’ll find a few handy features built in, it should be able to locate power levels even more precisely! I’ve also gone and added a communicator, so you can call Bulma anytime you want, like a cellphone! Also the Dragon Ball radar, and…”

He tapped it, and a faint red light blinked on. “That glass panel, gone! A holographic one appears instead, also it has enhanced Visual Zoom! Now you can see objects up to two kilometers away! Might help you spot opponents before they’re in your face.”

Bulma leaned in, intrigued. “That sounds… surprisingly useful.”

“Oh, but we’re just getting started!” he continued, beaming. “I’ve added Audio Amplification, so you can eavesdrop on conversations from across a room.”

Bulma looked amused. “Eavesdrop, huh? Oh, all the gossip I could hear!”

Dr. Briefs chuckled. “Now, here’s my favorite part, a Bio-Scanner,” he added with a wink, “for keeping track of your own vital stats during intense battles.”

Kakarot’s jaw dropped, all of this, made his previous scouter feel like a knock-off of this. “How… how did you even pack all that into this… It’s… too good…”

“You don’t even have to thank me, boy, helping Bulma is worth way more than this.” he replied smiling.

Kakarot, still reeling a little bit from the shock, took the device, and inserted it around his ear, it fit comfortably, the holographic screen appearing, keeping the visual similar to his old one, but now much more durable. “Th… Thank you… I didn’t expect a mere human could build something so… good…”

Bulma laughed. “Told you! Don’t underestimate us humans Kakarot, especially the Briefs!” She beamed proudly. “Now, let’s get going, we have a lot to do.”

As they walked down the bustling streets of West City, people couldn’t help but glance nervously at Kakarot, their gazes flicking, his menacing aura giving way to his true nature behind his slightly too casual demeanor, they quickly stepped out of his way, some even crossing the street to avoid walking too close to him. Kakarot noticed, of course, and he couldn't suppress a proud grin.

"Ha! They’re scared of me," he said, his voice almost gleeful, taking in the way people steered clear of him. "I like it. It means they know not to mess with me, that Bulma, is how you humans should treat a Saiyan!"

Bulma rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, despite how Kakarot acted, she couldn’t help but feel safe with him nearby, the city might be afraid of him, but she knew that if anything happened, Kakarot would be there to protect her, there was a certain comfort in that, even if his presence often felt like a ticking time bomb.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” she said, teasing him lightly, though she couldn’t quite hide the warmth in her tone. "Just because they’re scared doesn’t mean I will be too, and if they knew how much of a softie you can be…”

Kakarot raised an eyebrow at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “A softie, huh?” he repeated, clearly enjoying the teasing. “I’m no softie, you’ve seen me fight, I’m a warrior.”

Bulma smirked, glancing down at him. “Oh, I know, but I also know how you act when you're not fighting.” She bends down, making a pouty face and a mocking voice. “How you get all pouty when you can't train, or how you try to hide your excitement when you're learning something new, or how you cried when you thought I was hurt, such a cutie.”

Kakarot’s face flushed a deep red at Bulma’s teasing, his usual confidence crumbling under the weight of her words, he stammered, looking away awkwardly. “I-I don’t cry!” he blurted out, crossing his arms defensively. “I was just… worried! It wasn’t like that.”

Bulma couldn’t help but laugh, clearly enjoying how flustered he was. “Sure, Kakarot, sure,” she teased, her voice light with amusement. “You were worried, but the big, tough warrior was definitely not crying, got it.”

Kakarot puffed up his chest, trying to regain some semblance of pride. “I don’t cry,” he repeated, his voice rough but lacking its usual conviction, his posture remained stiff, and he glanced down at his feet, looking as if he was trying to avoid making eye contact.

Bulma only smiled wider, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice softening. “You can be soft sometimes, I think it’s kind of sweet.”

Kakarot, now thoroughly embarrassed, looked away, his face burning. “I’m not sweet!” he grumbled, though it lacked the usual intensity he had.

Bulma just chuckled to herself, feeling an unexpected warmth at seeing Kakarot like this, so different from the warrior he tried so hard to portray.

As they continued their walk through the bustling city, Bulma guided Kakarot into the nearby mall to pick up some groceries, a whirlwind of weirdness following them, as they passed through the aisles, Kakarot looked around with wide-eyed wonder, though he kept his arms crossed, trying to act unimpressed, every now and then, something caught his eye, toys of astronauts and aliens, a pyramid stack of canned beans he “accidentally” nudged to see if it’d fall, a stack of carrots, his favorite vegetable, he deemed them “acceptable training food” and tossed it all in the cart.

Bulma shuddered, she wasn’t able to eat carrots again after what she had to do with that rabbit, whenever Kakarot saw a food he liked he took all of it, and Bulma always had to go and put a bunch of it back. “Kakarot, you can’t go around getting 10 kilos worth of just carrots!” she shook her head. “And stop poking around, you’re gonna break something, and we’ve already been banned from 3 markets!”

“Everything here looks breakable,” Kakarot replied, a mischievous grin flashing over his face. “You humans do a horrible job at taking care of your resources, it’s a challenge to not destroy these.”

Bulma chuckled, thinking how strange it was to feel like she was grocery shopping with such a brute, she grabbed a few essentials and finally steered them to checkout.

As they approached the checkout line, Kakarot’s eyes caught on a toy display, a small, horned alien figure with sharp eyes and a sinister expression, and was posed in a stance that radiated menace. Beneath it, the name read The Evil Emperor Ice. Something about the figure tugged at a corner of his mind, a feeling he couldn’t quite place, like a memory just out of reach.

He picked up the toy, staring at it intently, his usual cocky expression softening with a strange mix of confusion and fascination, without another word, he walked over to Bulma, holding it up. “I want this,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. “This… ‘Evil Emperor Ice’ guy… he looks interesting.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow, looking between Kakarot and the figure in his hand. “You? Wanting a toy?” She laughed heartily, but there was a hint of curiosity in her tone. “Alright, Mr. Tough Guy, you can have it, but what’s so interesting about it?”

Kakarot frowned, slightly embarrassed now that she laughed at him. “I don’t know… It just… feels familiar,” he muttered, glancing at it again, as though it held some hidden significance.

She shrugged and tossed the toy into their cart. “Alright then, but don’t go crushing it if you get annoyed with it, you wouldn’t want to ruin your ‘friend,’ would you?” she teased, playfully nudging his arm.

Kakarot blinked, regaining his usual confidence with a smirk. “Hah! Like I’d ever be friends with some puny toy,” he scoffed, though he clutched the figure protectively as they headed toward the cashier.

Afterward, she dragged him into a nearby clothing store, this, she realized quickly, would take some patience. Kakarot turned down almost everything she picked out, scoffing at things like suits and sweaters as if they were the ultimate warrior’s shame.

“Just try it on,” she begged, holding up a dark blue jacket that would pair well with jeans, he looked at it like it was a threat, but Bulma shoved it at him until he gave in and went to try it on, when he came back, jacket fitting him surprisingly well, he gave a begrudging nod of approval, though he muttered something about “fancy human clothes.” Even so, Bulma could tell he liked it.

Finally, after stocking up and surviving the clothing expedition, they headed to the park with ice cream in hands, Kakarot ate his with so much enthusiasm that he ended up with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, when Bulma pointed it out, he simply shrugged and licked it off like a child, grinning unapologetically.

In the playground, Kakarot’s gaze landed on the monkey bars, and Bulma knew she was in trouble the moment his eyes sparkled with a gleam of excitement, without another word, he bounced over, ignoring the stares of kids and parents, he hooked his tail around the highest bar and dangled there, upside down, arms folded over his chest in pride.

As he swung back and forth, he began making faces at the kids who stared up at him in fear and confusion, trying to scare them off, he bared his fangs in a dramatic snarl, growling in a way that left kids squealing and running back to their parents, Kakarot seemed to take this as a victory, laughing as he kept swinging.

“Kakarot!” Bulma called, hands on her hips. “You’re scaring them on purpose!”

Kakarot laughed even louder, clearly proud of himself. “They should be scared! I’m the strongest around here!” He glanced over at a group of kids watching him wide-eyed from a safe distance, he dropped down, and let out a menacing aura. “Who wants to try?”

The kids shivered, one of them even wetted themselves, as they all backed away quickly, running and crying to their parents.

Bulma sighed, though she couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she approached the monkey bars. “Congrats, you just scared off the whole park.” she said, laughing.

“Good, If they’re scared, that just means I’ve done my job right.” His eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and playfulness.

Despite her exasperation, Bulma couldn’t help but feel happy in these little moments with him, his fearless, wild nature always made her day-to-day life more interesting, it was great to have Kakarot around, but, beneath his happy expression, there were conflicting thoughts going on Kakarot’s mind.

His expression turned thoughtful, his gaze drifting up to space, as if to something far away. "I just need a good fight," he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a real challenge, I’m getting weaker just standing around like this.”

Bulma’s smile wavered as she glanced over at him, hearing the restless edge in his voice, he never stopped talking about training, about getting stronger, she loved having him here in West City, and this month together has been great, but sometimes, she couldn’t shake the feeling that part of him was somewhere else, always searching for the next battle, for her, it was a bit disheartening.

She tucked away the thought and cleared her throat. “Well, if you’re that desperate, there’s a fighting tournament happening pretty soon.” she said, giving him a small smile. “It’s not some epic showdown, but it might be enough to scratch that itch of yours, just… promise not to send anyone to the hospital?”

Kakarot’s eyes lit up immediately, his restlessness shifting into a grin of eager excitement. “A tournament, huh? Alright, that’ll work for now.” he said, cracking his knuckles.

As they entered the tournament arena, Kakarot's eyes widened at the sight of the grand setup, it was in a closed building, with a large ring, elaborate banners, and a roaring crowd. The fighters were warming up, each looking serious, focused, and… completely unimpressive to him, he scanned their power levels through his scouter with a look of mild disappointment. “Not a single one here even comes close…” he muttered, his voice edged with boredom.

Bulma sighed, already seeing the restless spark in his eye. “Kakarot, don’t do anything crazy, okay? I know you’re bored, but just let them fight their matches and-”

But before she could finish, Kakarot had already leaped into the middle of the ring, landing with a loud thud that rattled the ground, he crossed his arms, calling out over the crowd with a smirk. “Alright! I’m here, so let’s skip the warm-ups! If any of you are real fighters, come face me! Better yet, all of you come at once!”

The entire arena went silent, every head turning toward Kakarot with looks ranging from shock to confusion, while Bulma facepalmed, trying to sink as low as possible in her seat. “Kakarot…” she groaned, sinking deeper as the tournament staff scrambled around in a frenzy, unsure what to make of this new, very unplanned “contestant.”

Kakarot scowled, his patience running thin as no one stepped forward. “Come on! You’re all weak compared to me! Are none of you brave enough to take me on, or are you just a bunch of cowards?”

The crowd stirred, and then a confident laugh rang out. A young man around seventeen, with a large afro and a flashy red-and-black gi, strutted forward, his swagger evident with every step. “Cowards? You’ve got some nerve, kid,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Little pipsqueaks like you should learn their place, don’t you know this tournament is for real fighters?”

Kakarot’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenching. “And what’s the name of the first victim who dared challenge me?”

The young man grinned, pointing a thumb at himself. “Name’s Mark, from the Satan Dojo, and by the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna remember it.” He shot Kakarot a confident smirk, drawing a few chuckles and cheers from the crowd.

Kakarot smiled, this man, was pitifully weak, he would have some fun. “Alright then, Hercule, I’m gonna go easy on you since you had some bravery, or you’re just foolish.”

The man was annoyed. “How did you even get Hercule from Mark? Why even ask my name just to get it completely wrong, you brat!” he rushed in, ready to deliver a kick. “Dynamite kick!”

Kakarot barely even flinched, he simply lifted a hand, catching Mark’s foot in midair with a grip like steel. “Is that it?” he asked with a disappointed sigh, then, with almost no effort, he swung Mark around and hurled him across the ring, sending him crashing into a pile of chairs at the edge of the arena.

The crowd gasped, and for a moment, there was a stunned silence, then Kakarot called out again, louder this time. “Alright, who else wants to give it a try? All at once if you want to survive!” His taunt echoed across the arena, his eyes glinting with the thrill of a fight and strong menacing aura.

This time, the rest of the fighters rose to the challenge, murmuring angrily among themselves, they stepped into the ring, fueled by pride, anger, and frustration. One after another, they surrounded Kakarot, fifteen in all, their expressions a mix of determination, irritation, and disbelief at his arrogance.

The fighters circled Kakarot, forming a ring of determined faces, with a mocking smirk, Kakarot cracked his knuckles, taking in their hesitation. "What’s the matter? Afraid of a little kid?”

That did it, two fighters lunged at him from opposite sides, hoping to overwhelm him with simultaneous attacks, Kakarot sidestepped one, elbowing him sharply in the ribs with a crack that sent the man staggering, clutching his side, and the second fighter charged him with a punch, but Kakarot grabbed his fist, twisting his arm behind his back in a brutal hold, breaking the man’s arm.

“Are you even trying?” he sneered, slamming the fighter into the ground face-first, before he could react, Kakarot kicked him, sending him tumbling across the ring, groaning in pain.

Four more leaped into action, thinking they’d succeed together where the others failed, one aimed a kick at Kakarot’s head, but he ducked, sweeping the leg out from under him so he landed flat on his back with a wheeze, Kakarot stomped on his stomach without hesitation, laughing as the man gasped for breath. He turned to another, who charged with fists flailing, Kakarot stepped back, then struck him with a ruthless punch to the stomach that folded him in two.

“Oh, come on, you call this a fight?” Kakarot taunted as he caught another fighter’s feet with his tail, spinning him around, and effortlessly tossing him into two others, sending them sprawling, another rushed in from behind, attempting to grab him, but Kakarot spun, smirking as he yanked the man forward, only to drive a knee into his face, blood trickling from his broken nose as he collapsed.

The rest of the fighters hesitated, suddenly realizing just how overmatched they were, they regrouped, charging Kakarot in a final, desperate attempt.

Kakarot grinned, enjoying every moment of their futile struggle, he ducked under a punch, countering with an uppercut that lifted one man clear off the ground, and then he grabbed another fighter by the shirt, headbutting him so hard the man’s eyes rolled back, blood trickling from his forehead, as he crumbled.

Another fighter tried to flank him, swinging a leg toward Kakarot’s ribs, but Kakarot caught the leg and twisted sharply, the fighter screamed in pain, clutching his leg as he fell to the ground, Kakarot didn’t give him a chance to recover, punting him clear across the ring with a powerful kick.

With only a handful of opponents left, Kakarot turned to them, cracking his neck. “Is that all? All of you are pathetic.”

Two of the remaining fighters shared a glance, clearly reconsidering, but one of them steeled himself and came at Kakarot with a wild scream, Kakarot sidestepped effortlessly, tripping the man as he passed, then kicking him hard in the back, almost breaking his spine as he was sent launching forward.”

Kakarot shook his head with a mocking sigh. “And here I thought I’d finally get a real challenge.” He glanced at the last remaining fighter. “Just you and me now, I will have some fun playing with you.” Kakarot’s grin was menacing, he barred his teeth, sending chills at the remaining combatant.

“I…I’m the master of the Satan dojo… You took down my student, but… I won’t go down so easily!” The fighter rushed in, unleashing blow after blow, Kakarot just stood there, taking it all, not feeling anything.

Bulma, who had settled back into her seat, obliviously licked her ice cream, she glanced over at the ring, wincing as Kakarot toyed with his opponents like they were nothing more than ants underfoot, she sighed but kept relishing the cool sweetness of her treat, when, out of nowhere, her hands were empty.

"Hey! What…?” Bulma muttered, staring in confusion, she looked around as if expecting to find the culprit, but nobody near her seemed interested. She glanced back at the ring, shrugging off the mystery with a shake of her head, still puzzled but more concerned with Kakarot causing trouble in the tournament.

Down in the ring, the master of the Satan Dojo prepared to launch a final attack on Kakarot, he shifted his stance, breathing heavily but determined, oblivious to the strange scene unfolding just behind him, from the shadowed corner of the arena, a single, ominous figure appeared, his face calm, with a small, almost bored smile on his lips.

Suddenly, there was a flicker of movement, the audience gasped as the mysterious figure darted close to the master, his hand moving in a swift, blurring motion, the master froze mid-step, his face twisting in shock and confusion, he reached up to his throat, only to feel something strangely cold and wet against his skin, he looked down to see, impossibly, an ice cream cone lodged in the side of his neck, as if someone had driven it in with the precision of a blade.

For a moment, he staggered, his legs wobbling beneath him as his vision blurred, the crowd watching in silent horror, he tried to shout, to call for help, but the ice cream cone had struck with deadly precision, its cold trickling down his spine, and his words died in his throat.

The figure stepped back, watching impassively as the master of the Satan Dojo collapsed, lifeless, his face frozen in a look of horror. “Thanks, brat, I knew this fool would be here, announcing himself like that, made my job easier.”

As the realization hit the crowd, they erupted into screams, people scrambling and stumbling over each other in their haste to flee, Bulma sat frozen in shock, gripping the armrests of her seat, her wide eyes flicking between the master’s body and the strange assassin, but she couldn’t look away, too shaken to move, as her mind processed the brutal efficiency with which the man had struck.

Kakarot, meanwhile, looked down at the scene with a mix of shock and fascination, his scouter beeped as it activated, automatically locking onto the assassin, he blinked as the display flashed. Power Level: 160

“What…?” he muttered, a rare look of surprise flickering across his face. This guy’s power… was higher than Roshi’s, and many times higher than his own, which made this guy… the strongest on Earth.

"Looks like I’ve got an audience," he sneered, scanning the terrified onlookers with disdain, his eyes stopped on Kakarot, lingering there, sizing him up. "You’ve got quite the mouth on you, kid, and that brutal way of fighting… so fascinating to see the young show such prowess.” The man smiled darkly, kicking the body of the dead master away. “But judging by your performance… You need some more refinement.”

The man standing before him was the embodiment of cold menace, his every movement calculated and precise, like a predator sizing up prey before the kill. Wearing a pink qipao, with red accents, with the kanji for “Kill” in the front, he had a small mustache, and his hair was long and braided, his eyes were the most striking feature, unfeeling and appraising, the eyes of a man who’d long since discarded empathy for the efficiency of death, his smirk showed the pure glee and enjoyment he felt at the killing he just committed, his whole aura screamed death. As he shifted slightly, Bulma glanced at the back of his qipao, where the words "Kill You" were stitched, a promise to all who faced him.

A fierce glint lit up in Kakarot's eyes as he locked onto the man before him, his usual cocky demeanor hardening into something darker, something primal, the thrill of battle rushing through him fully, and he met the stranger’s icy stare with his own bloodthirsty gaze, the man returned Kakarot’s intensity, his lips curving into a sinister smile that mirrored Kakarot’s own.

“They call me Mercenary Tao,” he announced, his voice a low, menacing tone, “the world’s greatest assassin, I was just here for a simple job, but I’d hate to pass up the chance to test a warrior like you.” His fingers twitched, eager for violence, matching Kakarot’s restless, murderous energy perfectly, for an instant, the air itself seemed to tighten around them, two killers poised to unleash their strength, each eager for blood and intent on proving their superiority.

“I’m Kakarot, a Saiyan meant to conquer this planet, it’s great to see a real challenge finally! I will make just on the promise embroidered in your clothes, I will kill you.”  Kakarot got in a fighting stance, he was outmatched here, but this was not an opportunity to pass on.

“Hahaha, that’s the spirit! Come at me then brat.” Tao didn’t get in a fighting stance however, he kept his hands folded behind his back. “But beware, that arrogance of yours, it isn’t earned here, I will have to teach you a lesson.”

The clash began with a blur of movement, Kakarot lunging forward, his fists fast and fierce, but Tao merely sidestepped, his movements so fluid they looked almost casual, before Kakarot could recover, Tao’s knee slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. “Lesson one,” Tao murmured, his voice steady as steel. “Power is nothing without control.” With a simple flick of his wrist, he backhanded Kakarot across the face, the movement was slight but held so much power, that it sent him flying back, leaving a mark on his cheek.

Kakarot, eyes blazing, shot up and launched another attack, throwing a flurry of punches, Tao dodged each one with minimal effort, his expression amused, he waited for Kakarot to overextend before landing a precise chop to the back of his neck, dropping him to his knees. “You’re fast,” Tao acknowledged, “but, lesson two, speed without precision is reckless.” He leaned close, his tone dripping with disdain. “Anyone can throw wild punches, but a true fighter knows exactly where to strike and how to strike.”

Furious, Kakarot surged forward, aiming a powerful kick at Tao’s side, but Tao caught his leg mid-air and twisted, sending Kakarot sprawling painfully to the ground. “Lesson three,” he continued, his voice calm, almost bored, as he looked down at Kakarot struggling to rise. “A fighter uses all his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses against him.” Kakarot threw a punch, but he grabbed and twisted Kakarot’s arm behind him, wrenching it hard enough to make him grit his teeth in pain. “every strike you throw can be a weakness.” Kakarot used his tail to try and free himself, but Tao grabbed it and used it to slam Kakarot down. “And every strength can be turned on its head. If you can't see your own flaws, then you’re as good as dead.”

Kakarot got up, anger rising, and he rushed forward again, Tao’s smirk widened as he took a casual step back, his gaze never leaving Kakarot’s. “Lesson four,” he announced, his tone calm and unwavering. “Victory is absolute, use everything around you as an advantage, no tool is beneath you when the goal is to win.” With that, Tao dislodged a large slab of the arena floor and flipped it into the air, using it to block the punch, as the fragments flew, Tao’s hand whipped forward, striking each piece with pinpoint accuracy, shattering them further into a cloud of dust that enveloped Kakarot in an instant.

Kakarot coughed, momentarily blinded, his vision obscured by the dust swirling around him, Tao wasted no time; he darted through the veil of dust moving toward the lifeless body of the master he’d dispatched moments before. Without hesitation, Tao knelt beside the corpse, as his hands plunged into the dead man’s mouth, grabbing something from the body.

He turned back to Kakarot, whose eyes widened as he emerged from the dust. “What-” Kakarot began, but before he could react, Tao flicked his wrist, sending teeth hurtling through the air like tiny, deadly bullets, they cut through the air with shocking speed, and Kakarot only just managed to dodge some of them, though most grazed his body, leaving thin trails of blood.

“Remember this well, boy,” Tao sneered, his tone dripping with superiority. “When you’re truly a warrior, nothing is off-limits, a true assassin sees even his surroundings as an arsenal.” Tao rushed forward, sweeping Kakarot’s legs and dropping him on his back.

“You’re impulsive, undisciplined, and sloppy,” Tao sneered, pressing his foot down on Kakarot as he struggled beneath him. “But you have potential, I’ll give you that.” Tao released Kakarot only to grab him by the collar, pulling him close until their faces were inches apart. “Lesson five,” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Respect those more powerful than you, arrogance will get you killed, especially if you flaunt your strength around those you have no hope of defeating.”

He hurled Kakarot across the ring, his body colliding with the hard ground, despite the bruises, the pain, and the humiliation, Kakarot’s eyes burned with defiance, his eagerness undiminished, but he couldn’t help but smile. Tao noticed the glint, the smile, the stubborn fire, and chuckled darkly, folding his arms. “Good,” he said, allowing himself a thin smile. “Perhaps you’re not a complete waste of my time after all, now get up, and show me if you can take what you’ve learned, land just one, solid hit, on me, and I will let you live.”

Kakarot was in a world of pain, the threat from Tao was very real, but he didn’t falter, this was the greatest battle of his life, blood trickled off his skin, and his body ached, but his heart beat with determination.

Lesson one. He steadied himself, getting into a proper fighting stance again, he analyzed his opponent, looking for a solid way to hit him, a plan formed in his head, Kakarot sped forward, striking at Tao, but he didn’t waste his energy nearly as much, every strike was thrown with focus.

Lesson two. His hits were precise, each one aimed specifically to throw Tao off balance, and force him to move backward, right where he wanted.

Lesson three. Tao was overconfident, and for good reason, he didn’t believe Kakarot could truly land a hit on him, he is too relaxed, his focus is slacking slightly, which is why he won’t notice.

Lesson four. As Kakarot attacked once again, he feigned a move in one direction, but quickly changed it, forcing Tao to move recklessly, as he sidestepped him, he ended up steeping right on the melted ice cream he had used earlier, slipping.

Lesson five. The window was small, and he knew Tao wouldn’t let himself fall, he would recover quickly, realistically, Kakarot had only a fraction of a second to act, but this one opportunity was everything, Kakarot didn’t waste a single thought, he launched himself forward, faster than he had ever moved before, his fist clenched tightly, honing all his energy into a singular, devastating blow, he focused all his anger, his frustration, and everything he had learned into this one attack. Every lesson Tao had given him was distilled into this perfect, precise strike, he would make Tao understand the meaning of his own arrogance.

As Tao's foot slipped, his focus faltered, just for a heartbeat, it was all Kakarot needed, with a roar, Kakarot’s fist shot forward like a cannonball, his knuckles aimed directly at Tao’s stomach.

The punch connected.

The air around them seemed to freeze as Tao stood, perfectly still, staring down at Kakarot, his gaze cold and calculating, Kakarot’s fist remained lodged in Tao’s stomach, the force of his punch reverberating through his body, the power of the hit ringing in his bones, but there was no sign that it had done anything to Tao. The assassin’s body hadn’t even flinched.

Tao's expression didn’t change, his eyes, dark and sharp as ever, never wavered from Kakarot’s, there was no sign of discomfort, no wince, no acknowledgment of the blow, nothing, the only sound was Kakarot’s breathing, heavy and fast, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for Tao's response.

“You did it,” Tao’s voice was steady, almost approving, his tone carrying a sense of grudging respect. “I was ready to kill you, but, you used the lessons, and you landed a hit, I must say, it wasn’t much, but it was something.” His voice had a strange reverence for Kakarot’s persistence, a subtle recognition of the potential the young warrior possessed.

But Tao’s gaze hardened, with terrifying ease, Tao placed a single hand on Kakarot’s wrist as if it was the most trivial of tasks, and without any struggle, he peeled Kakarot’s hand from his stomach, slowly but firmly, the pressure of Tao’s grip was immense, as he had a chilling air of superiority. “The problem, however,” Tao continued, his smirk never faltering, “is that you’re still weak, you might be able to follow orders and land a hit, but you're too slow, too predictable, you lack the experience to know what it means to truly crush someone beneath your heel.” And as his grip hardened, crushing Kakarot’s arm, he finished. “Let me show you the truth.”

Without warning, Tao used his free hand to grab Kakarot by the neck, lifting him off the ground, Kakarot’s feet dangling helplessly in the air, the crushing pressure on his neck suffocating him, he could feel his pulse thundering in his temples, the oxygen leaving his lungs, but still, he struggled, his tail lashed violently, his body thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free, but Tao’s hold was unyielding.

“Foolish,” Tao muttered, his voice low, laced with disdain. “You’re but an infant, a weak little baby, compared to me.” Tao lifted Kakarot higher, his grip tightening on his neck until the air felt like it was draining from his lungs.

With a sudden twist, Tao threw Kakarot to the ground with brutal force, the impact rattling his bones and leaving him gasping for air, Kakarot struggled to lift himself, but the pain was overwhelming, his body refusing to move at his command. Tao, meanwhile, stood over him like a god looking down on a mere mortal, his expression unchanged, he was so far beyond Kakarot “It feels like an insult to even call this, a fight.”

“You have potential,” Tao said, his voice carrying a chilling, superior tone. “But potential means nothing when you can’t even control your own body, you’re not ready to face anyone like me.” Tao stepped forward, his boot hovering inches above Kakarot’s chest as if daring him to rise. “This is the difference, boy. I am power. I am control. And you,” Tao sneered, “You are nothing.”

Kakarot’s head spun, his vision blurring, but something deep inside him stirred, a flicker of the pride that had driven him from the beginning. He could feel Tao’s cold gaze on him, but instead of fear, there was a burning determination, a resolve that refused to die, he attempted to rise.

But Tao’s foot came down, pinning Kakarot’s chest with effortless pressure, the assassin’s face twisted into a dark smile, enjoying the humiliation, but Kakarot’s eyes never wavered.

“You see, boy,” Tao continued, his voice colder now, his foot pressing harder, “this is what it means to be truly powerful, you don’t have the strength, the skill, or the intelligence to even come close to my level, not yet, at least.” Tao’s smirk faded, but his cold gaze never left Kakarot’s eyes. “But maybe... just maybe, you’ll learn, though it won’t matter until you can do more than just flail around like a child.”

With one final, crushing motion, that left Kakarot coughing blood, Tao stepped off Kakarot’s chest, leaving the Saiyan gasping for breath, broken and humiliated on the ground. Tao stepped back, looking down on him with an air of complete superiority, his expression unreadable, yet undeniably triumphant.

“You’re weak, remember that.” Tao’s words were like a final judgment, delivered with the chilling certainty of someone who had long since left any doubt behind. “But, such ferocity, pride, determination, your killing intent is truly something else, a kid your age, you have the potential to grow into a terrifying assassin. And if you want to do so, come meet me later.” Tao picked up a piece of paper from his pocket, writing something down, as he launched it at Kakarot, the paper stabbing into his chest. “Consider this a gift.”

And with that, Tao turned his back, his footsteps deliberate as he began to walk away, his silhouette disappearing into the distance, and as he disappeared from sight, Kakarot’s body remained still for a moment longer, his breaths came in ragged gasps, and the pain in his chest was intense, but there was something else in his eyes, something deeper. A flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, this was what he had been looking for. He had wanted a good fight, to test his true limits, and Tao just showed him, how much he still had to grow, and now, a path for him to grow.

From the corner of his eye, Kakarot barely registered the frantic figure of Bulma rushing toward him, she dropped to her knees beside him, her face pale with worry, her hands trembling as she touched his face. "Kakarot!" she cried, her voice sharp with fear. "Kakarot, please, wake up! You’re bleeding, you're hurt… please!"

She began frantically checking his wounds, her fingers brushing across the bruises and cuts, trying to stop the bleeding, but her voice was already fading away in his mind, the sounds around him softened, turning distant and muffled, as his vision started to blur at the edges, the frantic pace of Bulma’s movements, the hum of her phone as she tried to call for help, it all slipped away, becoming an indistinct haze.

All that remained was the deep satisfaction in his chest, a warmth that cut through the pain, he had fought, he had stood up against someone who was leagues ahead, someone who showed him what true strength was, and he had even managed to land a blow, it wasn’t much, but it was enough, he improved, and it was enough to know he could do more, enough to fuel his desire to grow stronger.

A soft, contented smile touched his lips as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion that weighed on his limbs, the pride in his heart overshadowed any lingering pain, and as he slipped into a quiet, peaceful sleep, he felt only a deep, satisfying sense of purpose, he had survived, he had learned, and now he would thrive.

Kakarot lay on his bed in his room at Capsule Corp, the soft, ambient hum of the building’s machinery barely noticeable in the quiet space, the room was modest and tidy, with training equipment arranged throughout it, his armor proudly displayed on the wall, and a shelf above his bed held a few sparse belongings, including his treasured Emperor Ice.

His attention, however, was fully on the piece of paper Tao had left him, held firmly in his hands. Kakarot read each word slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pieced together the message, sounding out certain letters as he went along, reading was still a bit of a challenge, but he managed it.

"Kakarot," it read in Tao's sharp handwriting, "You showed potential, to be a great assassin and fighter, but that potential means nothing without skill.”

Kakarot’s eyes moved down to the next line, his finger tracing each word as he whispered them to himself.

"If you’re truly serious about pursuing power, meet me tonight, at the largest tower. Midnight."

There was a pause in the note, and Kakarot could almost picture Tao’s smirk as he read the last line.

"Come prepared to be broken down… and rebuilt."

Kakarot lowered the note, his fingers curling tightly around it. This night. Midnight.

As Kakarot finished reading, he heard a light knock, and then the door slowly opened, Bulma stepped in, her face a mixture of relief and exasperation, the moment she saw him awake, her eyes softened, she walked over and sat down next to him in bed, closer than usually, her hand resting on the sheets near his.

"Kakarot, do you have any idea how worried I was?" she began her voice a mix of frustration and genuine concern. “You just jumped in there, showing off like you were invincible, and look what that brought you, that Tao guy was… too strong for you!” Her voice had risen, and she looked away for a second, exhaling sharply as if steadying herself. "You could’ve been… you know, really hurt…"

Kakarot’s gaze was still distant, his fingers lightly grazing the note in his lap, Bulma noticed his expression, the hint of a smile playing at his lips despite her words, and her frustration shifted to confusion. “Are you even listening?” she asked, her tone softer now, probing. "Are you... mad that you lost?"

He shook his head, his smile growing. “No,” he said quietly, his eyes lighting up. “I’m actually… really happy.”

The warmth in his voice caught her off guard, and she felt her heart beat just a little faster, he held the note out to her, and she took it, her fingers brushing against his. As she read Tao’s message, her face fell, her chest tightened as she realized what it meant.

“You’re not really thinking of going, are you?” she asked, her voice unsteady, her hand still holding the note but now gripping it tightly, she turned to him, eyes searching his face, silently hoping for him to say something reassuring, to tell her this was just a momentary excitement.

But the look in his eyes told her otherwise, she could see the determination there, a spark that was almost impossible to dim, she reached out, her hand resting on his, her hold gentle but firm, as if she could hold him here. “Kakarot…” she murmured, her voice wavering slightly. “You don’t have to go, you’re strong already, you’re safe here, with us… with me.” Her voice softened to a whisper, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air between them. “That guy… is too evil, you can’t go…”

He looked at her, his expression softening, there was something unspoken in his gaze too, as if he could see the concern and even a hint of something more in her eyes, for a moment, he felt a warmth that had nothing to do with fighting or power, a warmth that made him consider, just for a heartbeat, what it would be like to stay.

But that fire, that drive to grow, was already consuming him, and deep down, he knew he couldn’t ignore it. “I can’t stay, Bulma…” he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with something softer, almost regretful. “I… I have a mission, and I need to be stronger, this last month… ever since I met you, really… they’ve been some of the best moments I’ve ever had, staying with you is… it’s great, and part of me wishes I could stay, but, here, I won’t grow.”

Bulma’s fingers tightened slightly under his hand, her heart racing as she fought to keep him here, to change his mind somehow. “We can arrange something!” she said, her voice quick and almost pleading. “I can ask my dad to-”

She stopped herself, the words catching in her throat, her emotions tumbling over each other, she wanted to reach out, to pull him into her arms, to say anything that might make him see there was something here, between them, worth staying for, but she couldn’t find the right words, she felt the weight of his hand on hers, the quiet strength in it, and knew he was already set on his path.

Kakarot looked down, as if sensing her unspoken struggle, his thumb brushing lightly against her fingers. "Bulma… thank you, for everything. You’ve shown me what it’s like to feel at home… and to want something more than just a fight." He met her gaze, his eyes reflecting a depth of feeling that he didn’t have the words to express, for a moment, they were both silent, the weight of what wasn’t said hanging in the air.

Bulma bit her lip, her face inches from his, feeling the pull of his presence, his warmth. "Just… promise me that you’ll come back.” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Kakarot looked deeply into Bulma's eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering, as though he were seeing her for the first time. “I will…” a strange, unfamiliar feeling rose within him, a warmth that was entirely different from his passion for fighting, his heartbeat quickened, and for a moment, he leaned in too, their faces close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath. She closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly, anticipating something.

But then, he paused, and his gaze drifted to the window, outside, the sky was dark, and a flicker of alarm crossed his face as he remembered Tao’s note. “Bulma, why are you closing your eyes? What time is it?” he asked abruptly, pulling back, the urgency in his voice breaking the moment.

Bulma’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt a pang of disappointment, a sadness at what could’ve been, she glanced at the clock on the wall, her voice a little quieter, a little sadder. “It’s two till midnight,” she whispered.

Kakarot now had an alarmed look on his face, he jumped from his bed, wincing as his body reminded him of the bruises and pain from his fight, but his determination overrode the ache, he moved to grab his armor, adjusting it, then, he moved on to his power pole, holstering it in his back.

Bulma watched him, her emotions warring between pride and worry, her heart heavy as she realized, he was truly going. She stood up, a hesitant hand reaching toward him as if to hold him back, even if she knew it would be no use. “Are you sure about this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a trace of pleading.

Kakarot turned to her, his gaze steady yet softened by something unspoken. “Thank you, Bulma. But I need this, I will grow stronger, and then…” He hesitated for a moment, his own emotions unsteady and strange to him. “I’ll be back,” he said firmly, as though the promise were the easiest thing in the world.

She gave him a small, bittersweet smile, her eyes glistening. “You better keep that promise,” she murmured.

With one last look, he gave her a faint smile and turned, striding out of the room and down the hall, Bulma stood there, her heart aching, as his footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the stillness of the night.

Kakarot dashed through the empty streets, his breaths coming fast and sharp as he made his way toward the towering structure in the heart of the city, a massive tower loomed above him, disappearing into the night sky, he’d never seen anything like it up close, and the thrill surged through him, that feeling of pushing his limits, of facing the impossible.

Reaching the tower’s base, Kakarot gripped his Power Pole, extending it upward, as he stood on top of it, and in a single fluid motion, he leaped from the pole’s tip, his hands grabbing and retracting it as he soaring toward the tower wall, his fingers then grabbing onto and puncturing the structure, he began his ascent, scaling the tower as quickly as his body would allow. His muscles ached from the fight, each movement sending sharp reminders of the bruises and cuts that covered his frame, but his resolve drowned out the pain.

As Kakarot clung to the top, his fingers numb from the biting wind, he felt a sudden, crushing weight on his hand, he looked up, startled, to see a pair of polished black boots pressing down on his fingers, the pressure increased, forcing a grimace of pain from Kakarot, as a familiar figure loomed over him.

Tao stood above him, a twisted smile of satisfaction spreading across his face. "So you came," he sneered, his voice laced with that dark, mocking tone. "Good." he lifted his foot, allowing Kakarot to finish his climb, Kakarot pulled himself up, standing to face the assassin with a fierce resolve, barely masking his discomfort, Tao’s gaze flickered over him, assessing, before he nodded approvingly.

"You’re strong," Tao remarked, his voice quiet yet piercing. "But you lack skill and grace, things I can teach you.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air as he circled around Kakarot, that chilling smile never leaving his face.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the Crane School,” Tao continued, his tone shifting to something almost... calculated. “The techniques it teaches, the power it can grant, all under the careful guidance of my… brother, Master Shen. A fool. Arrogant, always one step behind me.” Tao’s eyes narrowed, a flash of contempt evident. “I despise him, Shen and his followers are weak, soft, but those techniques… in the right hands… can become weapons beyond anything you’ve seen, techniques which I’ve also mastered.”

Kakarot's curiosity sparked, the Crane School was renowned, a rival to the turtle school, he heard about them, from stories of his master and from some of the history books Bulma read to him.

“I’m willing to teach you,” Tao said, his voice low, persuasive. “I’ll teach you to surpass every last one of Shen’s pathetic students, you can become the world’s second-greatest assassin, and I can prove to my brother I’m superior to him in every way.” Tao’s smile grew sharper, his eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation.

Tao’s grin widened as he stopped in front of Kakarot, his eyes gleaming with both menace and opportunity. "Now," he said, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper, "I’ll ask you just once, are you ready? If you hesitate... if you have any second thoughts about the path you’re about to take…" Tao trailed off, gesturing with a glance to the dizzying drop below, the wind howling ominously around the tower. "I’ll have no problem leaving you to fall."

Kakarot looked back at him, fierce determination igniting in his eyes. "I’m ready," he said, his voice unshaken. "I want to be strong, I have a mission on this planet… so let’s start!"

Tao’s smirk returned, and without another word, he walked to the edge of the tower’s rooftop, grabbing onto one of the metal pillars atop the tower, with a powerful motion Tao hurled it into the sky, the pillar spinning as it soared, without a moment’s hesitation, Tao leaped onto it, balancing with ease as the beam glided through the air.

He turned, shouting over his shoulder, “Well? Are you coming, or would you rather stand there and watch like a weakling?”

Kakarot’s heart raced, without a second thought, he followed Tao’s example, leaping onto the edge and gripping another pillar with all his strength, gritting his teeth, he yanked it upward, feeling the strain in his arms and shoulders as he swung it, sending it airborne with all his might, then he leaped onto it, catching his balance as the pillar steadied beneath him, gliding shakily but steadily forward.

He glanced at Tao, who was watching him with a look of amused satisfaction. "Not bad," Tao called, his voice echoing in the night air. "It will certainly fall long before mine does, so just this once I will allow you to jump on mine, just don’t slow me down!"

Kakarot steadied himself on the pillar, his body tense with the unfamiliar motion of gliding through the night air, the wind whipped past him, the lights of the city stretching below, as they passed over Capsule Corp, he couldn’t help but glance down at the familiar, comforting structure, Bulma’s home, his temporary refuge, his heart tightened for a brief moment, but he quickly shook off the feeling, he had made his choice, and this was the only way to grow stronger, still, a part of him would always miss her, miss the warmth of her presence, but right now, he had to focus on the path ahead of him.

Chapter Text

On top of a cliff within a desolate, jagged mountain range, Kakarot and Tao stand face to face, high above the world below, peaks loom in every direction, towering into the clouds, shrouded in a thick fog that clings to the mountainside and obscures the depths of the ravines below, the ground beneath their feet is cracked and uneven, as though even the earth itself bears the scars of a harsh existence here.

Below them, the world drops away into an endless chasm, the rocky walls disappearing into a depth so great that nothing is visible at the bottom, a fall from this height would mean certain death, the rugged cliffs and jagged stones below promising no mercy, this place feels remote, removed from all life, a brutal training ground where survival is not guaranteed.

Kakarot and Tao face off on top of one of those cliffs, Tao stands with a calculating gaze, watching Kakarot with a cold, appraising stare, his stance is relaxed, but there's a cruelty in his eyes as he evaluates Kakarot, ready to punish any weakness.

“Remember,” Tao growls, lunging forward. “Don’t waste your energy, attack with precision and reason.”

He moves with frightening speed, his movements almost a blur, his fingers are curled into claws, aiming for vital points on Kakarot’s body, and Kakarot barely manages to block as he steps back, his face a mask of concentration, every strike is surgical, precise, meant to cripple or incapacitate, Tao’s eyes flash each time Kakarot stumbles, and with every mistake, Tao's attacks grow harsher, never giving him a moment to recover.

“If you learn about the human body,” Tao hisses, grabbing Kakarot by the arm and twisting it behind his back in a brutal hold, “you’ll be able to strike surgically, weakening your foe over time.”

Kakarot grits his teeth as Tao forces him to the ground, the pain shooting up his arm, Tao releases him with a rough shove, and Kakarot rolls away, scrambling to his feet, Tao never gives him time to recover, the moment Kakarot is up, Tao is upon him again, launching a barrage of kicks and strikes that leave Kakarot staggering, barely able to defend himself. Tao’s training is relentless, he shows no mercy, pushing Kakarot to his limits, forcing him to react with greater speed and precision or risk serious injury.

After a brutal sequence of lessons, Tao stops, folding his arms with an unimpressed glare. “Tell me, boy, do you know how to manipulate your ki into blasts?”

Kakarot catches his breath, wiping a trail of blood from his lip, he nods, though there’s a hint of hesitation. “I do,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “But… you might not like it... I copied it from someone I fought.”

A flicker of interest crosses Tao’s face, his mouth curving into a sadistic smile. “Show me,” he demands. “If it’s as unimpressive as your fighting, I’ll double your training until you learn something useful.”

Kakarot plants his feet, a fierce light coming into his eyes, he stretches his arms wide, as he begins to channel his energy, gathering his ki with a practiced focus, his voice drops low, murmuring the familiar words he’d learned from fighting the turtle hermit. “Ka… me… ha… me…”

Tao’s face lights up in excitement and surprise. “That technique… Did you fight that old fool, Roshi? It’s impressive, but it never quite lived up to the crane school’s own technique.”

Kakarot shoots him a grin. “I did, that bastard, he didn’t even give me a proper fight and then just left, I will kill him one day.” Anger boiling over, as he remembered his past humiliating defeat at the hands of Roshi.

“To lose to someone like him is expected, of course, I’m stronger, but even my brother never quite surpassed him.” Tao steadies himself. “But enough talk, show me the turtle school’s pathetic masterpiece.”

Kakarot’s smile fades, as he finishes the chant. “Ha!” the blast roars through the air, the sheer force of it sending waves of energy rippling across the cliffside, his opponent, however, does not move an inch, Tao stands firm, an amused expression crossing his face, he isn’t even going to dodge or block it.

As the Kamehameha closes the distance, Tao raises one hand, his movements deliberate and unfazed, his finger pointed toward the incoming blast, with a calm yet wicked smile, Tao’s fingertip begins to glow with a small, intense yellow light. “Dodon Ray!” he shouts, his voice cutting through the roar of Kakarot’s attack like a blade.

In a flash, the Dodon Ray fires forward, slicing through with precision as it meets the Kamehameha head-on, and to Kakarot’s shock, the thin, concentrated ray pierces straight through his blast, cutting through the wave of energy as though it were nothing, the Kamehameha splits in two, its energy dissipating as the Dodon Ray barrels toward him, unstoppable.

Kakarot’s eyes widen, his mind racing to understand what’s happening, but it’s too late, the Dodon Ray punches through his shoulder with a searing heat, and pain explodes through his body, he stumbles backward, clutching his shoulder as the shock of the impact overwhelms him, his hand coming away stained with blood.

“Wh-what…?” he gasps, his eyes darting back up to Tao, who watches him with a satisfied smirk.

“That’s the difference between the Turtle School’s gimmicks and the true strength of the Crane School,” Tao sneers, lowering his hand. “Your attack may look impressive, but it lacks the same precision that the Dodon Ray has, it’s an assassin’s technique, use it and your opponent’s own moves will falter against it, leaving their vitals exposed.”

Kakarot clutches his shoulder, Tao’s training was leaving his body scarred and injured, but he pushes on, determined.

“You said you copied the Kamehameha, let’s see if you can do the same here, you will have just one try.” Tao raises his hand again, as he points his finger to a nearby cliff. “Focus all your energy in a single spot, and keep the concentration as you unleash it, the blast is precise and thin, but,” he then launches his beam, the dodon ray puncturing through the mountain, then proceding to go trough many more, as they then explode from the beam’s raw power. “Deadly.”

Kakarot is shocked at the raw display of power, but, he’s confident, with the same hand he was covering his shoulder, he raises it high, the energy on it building, as the blood on his fingertip boils and sizzles away, he points it forward, the energy building up, he closes his eye as to concentrate as much as he can, finally launching the beam. “Dodon Ray!”

It speeds in Tao’s direction, it’s shape thicker than the one the assassin had produced earlier, but still, deadly and precise. Tao smirks, approving of the boy’s technique, as he simply backhands the blast, sending it into a far away mountain.

Kakarot watches in awe as Tao dismisses his Dodon Ray like it was a mere inconvenience, the blast sailing off and slamming into a distant mountain, which erupts in a cascade of rock and dust, the raw display of Tao’s control and skill hits him harder than the training ever could.

"Not bad, boy," Tao sneers, his smirk widening, "but that was too thick. Your concentration wavered, if you don't control the beam precisely, you’ll give your enemy the chance to counter, a Dodon Ray isn't about brute force, it’s about pinpointing the kill shot, letting precision do the work of power."

Kakarot steadies himself, his body aching from days of brutal training, he knew he could take the punishment, he was Saiyan after all, but the constant barrage left him little time to rest, to feel the full extent of his zenkai boosts, yet, even through the exhaustion, he could feel the faint stirring of new strength bubbling within him, pushing him to endure.

Tao steps closer, examining Kakarot with a critical eye. “Now, again. This time, control every ounce of your energy, make your power small, deadly, and precise, the way of the assassin isn’t to overwhelm but to end.”

Gritting his teeth, Kakarot raises his hand, blood still trickling from his shoulder, his arm quivering slightly, he summons his energy, a steady, fierce concentration building within him as he tries to copy the shape and force of Tao’s blast, he closes his eyes, feeling the energy build, compressing it, refining it, until he feels it’s ready.

“Dodon Ray!” he shouts, releasing the beam, it shoots forward, precise and deadly, or so he thinks.

Tao barely moves, his hand sweeping the blast aside effortlessly. “Pathetic,” Tao snaps, his voice dripping with disdain. “Again.”

Kakarot grits his teeth, raising his hand again, feeling the pressure building in his fingertip as he channels all his concentration into condensing the energy. “Dodon Ray!” The beam rockets forward, thinner, sharper this time, but Tao slaps it away as if swatting a fly, his expression unchanged.

“Again.”

The word stings, biting into Kakarot’s pride, he fires again and again, each blast slightly improved but never enough, Tao effortlessly deflects every attempt, his tone growing colder each time.

“Pathetic. I told you, control it, focus on precision, not just power, if I were your opponent, you’d be dead a hundred times over.”

Kakarot’s breathing grows heavier, his vision blurring as he fires yet another Dodon Ray, pouring his frustration and anger into it, hoping it might finally meet Tao’s standard, but Tao dismisses it with a flick of his wrist, his sneer deepening.

“Again!” Tao barks, unmoved by Kakarot’s exhaustion, he’s merciless, pushing him beyond his limits, making every failed attempt feel like an insult, each dismissed blast a reminder of how far he still has to go.

Kakarot’s frustration boils over, his pride wounded and his patience fraying. “Dodon Ray!” He fires again, putting everything he has left into the attack, willing it to reach Tao with the precision and control the assassin demands.

But Tao merely sidesteps, his gaze cold as he watches it zip past. “Again,” he says, his voice low but cutting. “You’ll keep firing until you get it right, or you’ll die trying, an assassin doesn’t stop because he’s tired, he stops when the target is down.”

By the time morning has faded into midday, Kakarot's energy is spent, he’s drenched in sweat, his arm aching from the repeated Dodon Rays he unleashed all morning, Tao lowers his arms, his gaze cold and indifferent as he assesses the results.

“Disappointing,” Tao states bluntly, his words cutting through Kakarot’s exhaustion. “But there was some improvement, however small, you have a long way to go.” Kakarot drops onto his back, panting as he stares up at the empty sky, his chest heaving with each breath.

“Rest,” Tao instructs, without another word, he settles down beside Kakarot, pulling out a worn book on human anatomy, opening it to a page filled with detailed diagrams, he glances over at Kakarot, who lies still, eyes half-lidded but attentive.

“You can blast all you want,” Tao says, his voice low, almost clinical, “but precision comes from knowing exactly where to strike, power alone is useless if you don’t know where it will hurt most.”

He begins pointing out different sections of the diagrams, tapping each with a fingertip. “The carotid artery here, strike it, and you’ll interrupt blood flow, here, the solar plexus, enough force and it will knock the wind from any opponent, useful to cause a world of pain or incapacitate them.” Tao's voice is steady, each lesson spoken with the calculated coldness of a professional. “The liver, ribs, the temple, all are weaknesses if you know how to exploit them.”

Kakarot listens intently, even as his body demands rest, Tao’s teachings sink into his mind, each weak point and vulnerability forming a map of precision, for once, this was a type of battle he hadn’t considered much before, one fought with intellect and cunning strategy, not only strength.

“If you ever hope to surpass the Crane School’s standards, you must internalize this knowledge,” Tao says, not looking up from the book. “You’ll find that once you know where to strike, even a weaker opponent can bring down someone far stronger, power and skill, both are required. Understand?”

Kakarot nods slowly, his mind swirling with this new understanding of combat, his exhaustion briefly forgotten.

Tao had been relentless, pushing Kakarot to his limits both physically and mentally, the past two weeks had been a blur of pain, exhaustion, and fleeting moments of rest, all interspersed with hours spent poring over Tao’s teachings, every day, Kakarot’s body had grown more scarred, his muscles strained from endless drills, and his mind had absorbed the cold, calculating techniques Tao had instilled in him, the ideas of what it meant to be an assassin, Tao’s ruthless and cold ideology, all drilled into Kakarot’s mind.

When the moonless night descended, the air was heavy with the promise of more to come, Tao snapped the book shut with a sharp, final motion, the sharp sound echoed through the barren mountain range, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the cliffs.

Kakarot looked up, his body sore, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep and constant exertion. “For today, I have one more technique I want to show you, this one, will teach you how to truly control your power.” Tao’s voice rang out, breaking the tense silence that had settled between them, his master, standing with that dark, calculating gaze, suddenly took a step back, Tao’s eyes gleamed, and without a second of warning, he leapt off the edge of the cliff.

Kakarot’s eyes widened as he saw his master hurtling toward the earth, his body slicing through the cold mountain air headfirst, panic bubbled up within him, was this some new test? Or had Tao finally lost his mind?

But then, Tao’s descent abruptly stopped, his body freezing mid-air a few dozen feet below, adark, triumphant smirk crossed Tao’s face as he hovered, perfectly suspended, moving as easily through the air as if he were on solid ground, he floated back up, slowly ascending in a controlled manner until he was level with Kakarot, the night wind ruffling his robes as he settled into the air, arms crossed behind his back.

“This,” Tao announced with satisfaction, his voice steady and unhurried, “is the Sky Dancing Technique, the ability to control one’s ki with such precision that gravity itself bends to your will.”

Kakarot’s surprise gave way to awe as he watched his master float seamlessly, shifting through the air in slow, controlled movements, with none of the furious speed or brute strength he had come to expect, Tao was floating gracefully in the air.

“With this technique,” Tao continued, drifting closer to Kakarot, “you learn to control not just raw power but the very essence of your ki, ir’s about balance, concentration, remaining calm, to hold your energy, this isn’t about sheer strength, boy,” he added, his voice low and sharp. “It’s about the control to dominate your surroundings, to defy nature itself.”

Kakarot stood speechless, taking in every word, the discipline, the skill, the refined control that Tao was describing, it was entirely different from the impulsive power he was used to summoning, Tao seemed to wield his ki like a fine instrument, each motion a calculated act.

Tao’s eyes met Kakarot’s, the boy’s look of shock and awe filling him with pride at his own skills, with a final smirk, he let himself drift down, landing gracefully on the rocky ground below. “Don’t expect to soar at breakneck speeds right away,” he said, folding his arms. “The Sky Dancing Technique demands a lot of ki, so while you’re learning, keep it slow, that’s why I usually rely on objects I throw to cover distance quickly, they use less energy and still get me where I need to go, allowing me to conserve energy for fights.”

Kakarot nodded, absorbing his master’s advice, the thought of launching himself into the air at will filled him with anticipation, but he understood Tao’s warning, his energy wasn’t endless, and every use of it had to be intentional and precise.

“Focus on the fundamentals,” Tao said sternly, catching Kakarot’s gaze again. “You don’t fly with power alone, the goal is to move with efficiency, precision, no more, no less, this is a fundamental technique that can get you out of trouble, and position yourself to get advantage against the enemy.”

With those words, Kakarot closed his eyes, his mind replaying the controlled movements Tao had shown him, he began to channel his ki, feeling it swirl beneath him, not in an explosion of force but in a steady, gentle lift, as he slowly floated in the air.

Kakarot felt a rush of elation as he hovered in the air, his energy lifting him with a newfound sense of freedom, a huge grin spread across his face as he tried to maneuver himself, slowly inching forward, then back, his movements wobbly, this was more than he’d ever imagined, and it felt exhilarating, for a few moments, he was lost in the thrill of it, as if he could conquer the sky itself.

But in his excitement, Kakarot lost focus, and before he could steady himself, his control slipped, gravity took hold, and he plummeted back down, landing with a thud and a cloud of dust.

Tao stepped forward, his gaze steely but approving. “Not bad for your first try,” he said, almost smiling. “You’ve got potential, but remember, you have to keep control, here it should be easy, but, the real test is whether you can maintain this technique in the heat of combat.”

Before Kakarot could fully register the compliment, Tao’s hand shot out and seized his collar, in one smooth motion, Tao hurled him off the cliff’s edge, the sudden rush of wind sent Kakarot’s heart racing as he plummeted toward the jagged rocks below, the ground speeding toward him.

“Show me, Kakarot!” Tao’s voice echoed down, sharp and demanding. “If you lose focus, you lose your life. Control your ki, or die!”

Desperately, Kakarot forced himself to concentrate, reaching deep within to call on the same energy he’d just tapped into, the air roared around him, and he struggled against the pull of gravity, the adrenaline sharpening his mind as he focused on nothing but the flow of his ki, he closed his eyes, and then, little by little, he felt his descent slowing, his body fighting against the earth’s relentless pull.

Kakarot opened his eyes, his heart pounding as he took in the sight beneath him, just a few feet away, jagged rocks covered the ground, sharp and unforgiving, and he’d halted his fall only moments from a brutal landing, relief surged through him, but he quickly steeled himself, recalling Tao's warning about maintaining focus.

Carefully, he channeled his ki again, letting it flow steadily through him, with a slow, deliberate push, he began to rise, inch by inch, hovering in place, he could feel each subtle movement in his energy, every tiny adjustment needed to keep him steady, there was no room for his usual bursts of excitement, any slip, and he’d end up right back on the ground.

As Kakarot finally drifted up to the cliff's edge, he saw Tao standing there, arms crossed, a rare smile of approval on his face. “Not bad,” Tao said, nodding with a hint of satisfaction. “You’re getting the hang of it faster than I expected. You’ve earned your rest.”

Kakarot let out a sigh of relief, his exhaustion hitting him in full as he stumbled back onto solid ground, every muscle ached, his mind felt heavy, but there was a flicker of pride glowing within him.

“We’re done for today,” Tao added, his tone shifting back to its usual, commanding sharpness. “Enjoy this opportunity of resting, for tomorrow, we will continue your training, you won’t get many other opportunities like this.” Tao then tossed some bandages in Kakarot’s direction. “Cover that shoulder of yours, wouldn’t want that to infect and make me have to kill you.”

Kakarot caught the bandages Tao tossed at him, muttering under his breath, every fiber of his being was worn down, his body a canvas of bruises and scrapes, but it was the emotional strain that cut the deepest. Tao’s methods were relentless, each day a test of survival that kept Kakarot constantly on edge, and yet, every once in a while, there was that glint of approval, that proud smile that Tao would flash when Kakarot exceeded his expectations.

Kakarot wrapped his shoulder, glancing over at Tao, who was now watching him with his usual unreadable look, these moments left Kakarot wondering, was that flicker of pride truly directed at him? Or was Tao’s satisfaction only a reflection of his own belief in his abilities as a teacher? Kakarot couldn’t tell, he started to slowly hate Tao, but those glimpses of approval kept him pushing forward, hungry to prove his strength not only to Tao, but to himself.

Kakarot sank back onto the rocky ground, aching yet determined, he would continue facing whatever trials Tao threw at him.

Two months had passed, each day carving Tao’s lessons deeper into Kakarot’s mind and body, until every technique, every movement, every principle of Tao’s lethal precision became second nature, today, they glided silently through the sky, each balanced on a pillar, the wind slicing past as they approached the city below. Kakarot’s stance was calm, his ki honed and restrained, each subtle adjustment keeping him aloft.

Today, Tao had a different test in mind for Kakarot, he was taking him on an assassination mission, Kakarot, of course, was already used to killing, but that wasn’t the test. “Your target is Giran the monster, a weakling, but to you, he should prove a formidable match, although I would be disappointed if you were weaker.”

Kakarot’s eyes gleamed with excitement as Tao mentioned the mission, finally sensing the prospect of a fresh opponent, the past months had been intense, and while he’d honed his control and skill with Tao, he was eager to test his strength against someone new.

"Don't get too eager, boy," Tao interjected, his voice sharp. "This mission isn’t about your raw strength, I've seen enough of that, so I have a few conditions for you, fail to follow them, and I will kill you myself.”

Kakarot’s smirk faded as he listened, feeling the weight of Tao’s intent.

"First," Tao began, "limit your power, I don’t want to see you simply overpowering Giran, your ki output must match his, no more, no less, I want to see if you can fight without dominating through brute force."

Kakarot gritted his teeth, his pride flaring, he wanted nothing more than to crush Giran outright, but Tao’s test demanded control and restraint.

"Second," Tao continued, "force the battle into the air, Giran can fly naturally, you, however, are only still learning it, this will test your ability to maintain concentration on flight while in battle, and also exert your ki, enough to possibly make this battle lean to Giran’s side. Don’t touch the ground once you engage, prove that you can fly while fighting, or you’ll be of no use to me."

Kakarot’s eyes narrowed, he had yet to master the delicate balance of flight in combat, and he knew Tao’s demand would push him to his limits, but he nodded, accepting the challenge.

"And third," Tao’s voice dropped, his tone deadly, "no ki blasts of any kind, you will rely on your body alone, landing every strike with precision, targeting his weak points to bring him down, I want to see you kill with skill, not chaos."

Kakarot clenched his fists, the thrill of the challenge rekindling in his blood, he would show Tao that he was capable of more than raw power, he would show him he could be the ultimate warrior, precise, focused, skilled and deadly.

As they reached the outskirts of the city, the two jumped off and destroyed their pillar, as they then descended silently and slowly into the city, the faint hum of life echoed through the streets, but the presence of the two assassins turned the area grim, their killing intent radiating throughout. They stopped near a dimly lit bar, the muffled sounds of laughter and crashing mugs leaking through the walls.

Tao’s sharp eyes scanned the establishment before turning to Kakarot. “Giran should be inside, use your scouter to confirm his location, and remember, this is your test, fail, and you won’t leave this city alive.”

Kakarot gave a short nod, activating his scouter, he smirked as the device locked onto the highest power level inside, far greater than the other weaklings around it, its holographic lens showing Giran’s power. Power Level:60

"Got him, he’s quite weaker than me, I’m gonna have to-" He turned to share the confirmation with Tao, but the moment his eyes left the scouter, the assassin was gone.

“Tch,” Kakarot grunted, narrowing his eyes, Tao’s vanishing act was nothing new by now, but it still grated on him, he would catch the assassin running one day. He clenched his fists, his pride roaring, his Saiyan instincts kicking in as the prospect of battle stirred his blood.

He turned back toward the bar, his tail swaying with anticipation, Tao’s impossible restrictions, it was the kind of challenge Kakarot lived for. Smirking, he turned off his scouter and strode toward the entrance, the thrill of the hunt, a thrill he had longed for, fueling every step.

The bar’s heavy door creaked as Kakarot pushed it open, the dim, smoky atmosphere inside immediately greeting him, his gaze immediately went to the figure by the bartender, a towering dragon-like beast clad in a black hat and trench coat, his target.

Giran leaned casually against the counter, his clawed hand clutching a glass of milk as he muttered something to the bartender, around him, the chairs sat conspicuously empty, the rest of the patrons keeping their distance, stealing nervous glances at the hulking creature.

Kakarot stepped inside, his short stature a stark contrast to the grizzled men and intimidating aura of the bar, heads turned as he walked in, as the room filled with murmurs of confusion and concern.

"Hey, kid," a burly man near the door called out, rising from his seat. "You lost or something? This ain’t the kindergarten, you’d better-”

Before he could finish, Kakarot’s tail flicked in irritation, with a swift motion, he flicked his tail at the obnoxious man, sending him into the table of another patron. The room fell silent, eyes wide as Kakarot didn’t so much as glance at his victim, continuing his path toward Giran.

The Saiyan teen hopped up onto the stool next to the dragon, his casual confidence in sharp contrast to the unease filling the room. Giran raised a brow, his eyes sliding to the side to study the bold intruder, the bartender froze mid-polish, his gaze darting nervously between the two.

The bartender’s hands trembled slightly as he set down the glass he’d been polishing. Though his instincts screamed at him to question the presence of a child in such a place, the sight of Kakarot effortlessly flooring a man twice his size silenced any protest. He cleared his throat, stepping closer with forced composure.

"What’ll it be, kid?" the bartender asked cautiously, his voice betraying his nerves, he already had to deal with one rough costumer this night, he wasn’t paid enough for this.

Kakarot glanced at him, then smirked. “A bottle of orange juice,” he said, his tone casual.

The bartender blinked, momentarily taken aback by the innocent request, but quickly nodded, retreating to fetch the drink.

As the man shuffled away, Giran finally turned to face the boy fully, his size dwarfing Kakarot in a way that would have made most tremble, the dragon’s expression was a mix of curiosity and disbelief, his eyes narrowing as his deep voice rumbled. "Who the hell are you, kid?" his tone laced with suspicion. "This isn’t exactly the kind of place for... children."

Kakarot smirked, leaning back on his stool with a relaxed arrogance that seemed entirely out of place. “Who I am doesn’t matter, what does is that I’m here, and that you… are right where I need you to be.”

Giran frowned, his gaze hardening as he tried to make sense of the boy’s words, the tension between them began to ripple through the room, the other patrons inching farther away, sensing something dangerous was about to unfold.

He chugged his milk in one swift motion, his massive clawed hand clenched the glass, shattering it effortlessly, the sharp crack of breaking glass reverberated through the bar, drawing a collective wince from the already tense patrons. Giran’s lips curled into a menacing smirk as he leaned slightly toward Kakarot.

"Alright, kid," Giran rumbled, his voice low and gravelly, "you’ve got my attention, what exactly do you mean by that? Speak plainly, or get lost before you bite off more than you can chew.”

Kakarot didn’t flinch, his smirk grew wider as he reached for the glass of orange juice the bartender had just poured, he took a drink, setting it back on the counter with deliberate casualness, his tail flicked lazily behind him as he turned his gaze to Giran, eyes gleaming with a mix of challenge and mischief.

“What I mean,” Kakarot began, his tone light but laced with killing intent, “is that your luck just ran out. I’m here to kill you.”

For a moment, there was only silence, the absurdity of the declaration hanging in the air, then, Giran threw his head back and let out a deep, guttural laugh that shook the room.

“You? Kill me?” he said, wiping a clawed hand across his mouth as he leaned closer, his fanged grin inches from Kakarot’s calm face. “Listen, kid, I don’t know what hole you crawled out of, but you’re not walking out of here alive if you keep running your mouth, and while I’d hate to have the blood of some bastard kid on my hands, I won’t hesitate if you push me.”

Kakarot’s smirk remained unbroken. “Big talk from someone who doesn’t seem to realize what’s coming, but hey, I get it. You’re scared. You should be.”

Giran’s grin faltered for just a second, replaced with an annoyed scowl. “You’ve got some nerve, brat.” Unable to stomach the taunts any longer, he snarled and lashed out with a massive fist aimed straight for Kakarot.

Kakarot’s smirk twisted into something sharper, more menacing, as he left the stool and dodged Giran’s massive fist with almost lazy ease, his tail flicked in amusement as he reached for his drink, taking a long, deliberate sip.

“That was pathetic,” Kakarot said, his tone dripping with mockery, he swirled the juice in his glass, inspecting it like it was more interesting than Giran. “Guess I shouldn’t expect much from a lizard playing dress-up, you’re going to be way too easy.”

Giran’s snarl deepened, his claws flexing as his temper flared, but before he could strike again, Kakarot moved, with a blur of motion, the boy spun on his heel, his tail whipping behind him for balance as he launched a precise kick into Giran’s jaw, the impact sending the massive dragon flying through the ceiling of the bar, debris raining down as he crashed through.

The patrons froze, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as Kakarot followed, flying fluidly trough the air, he hovered above the wreckage, holding his drink in one hand, his other resting lazily on his hip, his movements look effortless, but flying still required quite a bit of concentration.

Giran groaned, shaking off the blow as he righted himself mid-air, glaring up at the boy who had not only humiliated him but was now drinking orange juice as if this was a casual outing.

Kakarot took one last sip, draining the glass, then tossed it aside carelessly, letting it shatter in the ground below, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his smirk curling into a sinister grin. “Now we’re talking,” his voice calm but brimming with menace. “Let’s see if you’re any better up here, or should I knock you back down where you belong?”

Giran growled low in his throat, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. "You think you can humiliate me, brat? I'll break you."

With a roar, the dragon surged forward, his massive frame cutting through the air with surprising speed, his claws lashed out in a wide arc, aiming to tear Kakarot apart, Kakarot twisted in mid-air, narrowly avoiding the slash as the claws grazed his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

Kakarot clicked his tongue, wiping the blood away with his thumb. “Not bad, you’re a little faster than you look.” he admitted, though his cocky smirk never wavered, but the strain was already beginning to show. No ki blasts, no overpowering him, and all mid-air, where he’s faster… Damn it, Tao really stacked the deck against me.

His tail twitched, compensating as he delivered a sharp punch to Giran’s stomach, the impact reverberated through the dragon’s body, causing him to grunt in pain, but Kakarot’s movement was slower than usual, his focus divided between attacking and staying airborne.

Giran snarled, capitalizing on Kakarot’s momentary lag, he twisted mid-air and swung his tail like a whip, the spiked end slamming into Kakarot’s side, the boy grunted as the hit sent him careening backward, the wind knocked from his lungs, he barely managed to steady himself, his ki flaring as he forced himself to hover.

Giran grinned, noticing the strain. “What’s the matter, kid? Having trouble keeping up? Maybe you should’ve stayed grounded.” He sneered, blood trickling from his mouth where Kakarot’s kick had connected earlier.

Kakarot smirked, though his breath was heavier now. “Funny coming from the guy already bleeding,” he retorted, his voice sharp despite the strain.

With a sudden burst of movement, Kakarot darted forward, he ducked under another wild slash from Giran, slipping just beneath the dragon’s massive frame before delivering a brutal strike to the base of Giran’s wing, the hit landed with a sickening crunch, making Giran roar in pain.

“You little pest!” Giran snarled, twisting his body to bring his tail crashing down toward Kakarot.

The boy rolled mid-air, narrowly avoiding the strike, his movements were less graceful now, but he retaliated immediately, using the momentum of his roll to drive a sharp elbow into Giran’s side, just beneath his ribs.

The dragon wheezed, his wings flapping erratically as he swung a clawed hand in desperation, this time, Kakarot wasn’t fast enough, the claws slashed across his shoulder, tearing his shirt and leaving three bloody gashes, he hissed through clenched teeth, but his smirk only grew darker.

“Starting to feel it, huh?” Kakarot taunted, his voice edged with both pain and defiance. “You’re slowing down, big guy. Guess those wings aren’t as big of an advantage as you thought.”

Giran roared in frustration, surging forward with renewed aggression, he swiped and slashed at Kakarot, his movements wild and relentless. Each attack came closer to landing, forcing Kakarot to twist, spin, and dodge with every ounce of focus he could muster, some of them would hit, as his flight faltered again, his ki output wavering as his exhaustion grew, but he refused to back down.

Seizing an opening, Kakarot delivered a precise kick to Giran’s throat, the blow sending the dragon coughing and spluttering, before Giran could recover, Kakarot spun mid-air and struck the same wing he’d targeted earlier with a crushing punch, the sound of cracking bone echoed through the sky as Giran’s flight became visibly unstable and lower.

Giran’s snarls turned to labored breaths, his attacks growing sloppier as the pain and accumulated damage began to take their toll, Kakarot, despite his own fatigue, pressed the advantage, he closed the distance between them, weaving through Giran’s sluggish swipes to land a brutal combo of strikes to the dragon’s chest and abdomen, each hit was precise, every blow aimed at vital points Tao had drilled into him.

Kakarot hovered confidently, the adrenaline of his successive blows coursing through him as he watched Giran struggle to steady himself. “Look at you,” the boy mocked, his smirk dripping with arrogance. “You’re barely standing, this is pathetic.”

But Giran wasn’t finished, the dragon’s eyes flared with a renewed fury, his chest swelling as he drew a deep, guttural breath. “You’re cocky for a kid who doesn’t know when to shut up!” he roared, his voice booming with rage.

Before Kakarot could respond, Giran thrust his head forward, his maw opening wide, as a sticky, gleaming substance shot forth, his infamous Merry-Go-Round Gum.

Kakarot’s eyes widened in alarm as the gum hurtled toward him, he tried to dodge, twisting sharply to the side, but the sticky substance expanded mid-air, enveloping him before he could escape, the gum wrapped tightly around his limbs and torso, binding him in place. His ki flickered as his concentration broke, and he struggled to keep himself on the air.

“Ugh! What is this?!” Kakarot snarled, thrashing against the adhesive material, his movements only seemed to tighten its grip, the gum stretching and pulling with every attempt to free himself.

Giran grinned wickedly, bloodied but triumphant. “That’s right, brat, you thought you could take me down? Think again! This is the end for you!”

The dragon surged forward, his massive fist slamming into Kakarot’s stomach with devastating force, the boy grunted, his body jerking as the impact sent him flying backward, the gum binding him only slightly cushioning the blow, as he crashed into the side of a nearby building, cracking the wall as dust and debris rained down around him.

Kakarot coughed, his vision spinning as he struggled to catch his breath, his mind raced. Damn it! I got careless... What the hell is this stuff? I can’t move...

Giran chuckled darkly, advancing with slow, deliberate moves, his broken wing flapping slowly but keeping him up. “Not so smug now, are you? Let’s see how much fight you’ve got left when you’re stuck like a fly in a web.”

The dragon raised his fist again, aiming for a decisive blow, Kakarot growled, his frustration mounting. I’m not losing to this idiot... If only I could use my full power, that bastard Tao probably knew of this, I’m going to have to use my head on this one…

Taking a deep breath, Kakarot forced his ki to flow through him, focusing all his energy on his flight, he could already feel the dragon’s looming presence, his massive fist coming down, but Kakarot was prepared, with an almost effortless motion, he shot into the air, twisting just as Giran’s punch crashed into the building he had been leaning against, Kakarot was a blur, dodging, his mind and ki entirely focused on his flight.

For a moment, everything seemed to slow as Kakarot weaved through the air, his body hovering, then, with a determined grin, Kakarot charged forward, using all the speed he could muster to headbutt Giran with tremendous force.

The collision was brutal, Kakarot’s forehead slammed into the dragon’s skull with a sickening crack, causing Giran to reel back, stunned, his vision spinning as stars exploded in his head, for a brief moment, the giant dragon was dazed, giving Kakarot the window he needed.

Kakarot quickly spun mid-air, his body moving fluidly despite the gum’s restrictive pull, the gum tightened around him in response, but Kakarot twisted, his tail slithering through a small gap in the binding, the tightness of the gum suddenly worked to his advantage, allowing his tail to break free from its grasp.

Kakarot whipped his tail through the air, the appendage snapping like a predator testing its strike, his grin widened, feral and mocking. “Looks like that gum of yours can’t contain me after all.”

Giran roared in fury, his muscular wings beating the air with renewed determination, he was tired, but he was sure he could end it now, as he lunged forward, claws outstretched, aiming to crush the smug kid.

Kakarot stood his ground, eyes locked on his foe, at the last possible moment, he leapt to the side, tail snapping upward like a serpent, as it coiled tightly around Giran's thick neck, muscles flexing as the Saiyan put all his strength into the grip.

Giran choked, his roar cutting off into a strangled gasp, his claws went to his neck, scraping futilely at the tail constricting his airway. "What’s wrong? Did I take your breath away?" Kakarot snarled.

Giran struggled, his muscles bulging as he threw his weight backward, forcing Kakarot to stumble, the Saiyan’s tail strained to maintain its grip, his body flailing slightly as Giran spun wildly, trying to shake him off. “Think you’re going to get rid of me like that?!” Kakarot spat, sweat running down his brow, Giran suddenly lunged to the side, slamming his bulk into a building in an attempt to crush his foe against it.

Kakarot saw an opportunity to strike, as he tightened the coil of his tail with a sharp twist of his hips, pulling himself down, his body snapped with a surge of momentum, his feet slamming hard onto Giran’s back, the impact reverberated through Giran’s frame, causing the beast to stagger and away from the building.

It was then that the idea hit him, his tail’s grip was good, but it could be better. “Heh, let’s see how you like this.” Kakarot muttered under his breath. As Giran stumbled, Kakarot acted swiftly, using the gum still clinging to his body, he launched himself onto Giran’s back, his smaller frame sticking like a second skin to the scaly beast.

Giran’s wings flapped frantically, trying to lift them higher and rid himself of the kid, but Kakarot’s crushing grip was relentless, the Saiyan twisted his tail tighter, each coil digging into the thick scales of Giran’s throat, the beast's gasps became wet and strained, a garbled growl escaping his maw as he struggled in vain.

“You’re not getting out of this alive,” Kakarot growled, his tone dripping with sadistic pleasure, his eyes darted to Giran’s unbroken wing, flapping weakly in a futile attempt to stabilize their mid-air struggle, an idea sparked in Kakarot's mind, a brutal, decisive way to ensure his end.

With a guttural snarl, Kakarot leaned forward, his teeth bared, he lunged at Giran’s intact wing, his jaws clamping down viciously, the beast roared in agony as Kakarot tore into the flesh, his sharp teeth puncturing scales and ripping through flesh. Blood spattered across Kakarot’s face as he shook his head like a rabid animal, tearing chunks of meat and muscle free.

Giran’s roars became weaker, turning into pitiful gurgles as Kakarot jerked his head back with a final, savage pull, the wing came free in a spray of blood and torn flesh, leaving Giran lopsided and flailing in the air, as the two started descending slowly.

Kakarot spat the wing aside, the remnants tumbling to the ground far below. “Pathetic,” he sneered, tightening his tail’s grip further, Giran’s eyes bulged, his clawed hands slowing as oxygen eluded him.

“Not done yet,” Kakarot growled darkly, his body pressing harder against Giran’s back, the gum ensuring he remained locked to his prey, as Giran’s struggling waned, Kakarot doubled down, every muscle in his tail flexing with murderous intent.

Giran’s movements became sluggish, his wing ceasing its frantic flapping, as his plummeting body neared the ground, Kakarot clung tightly, his tail still squeezing, ensuring his opponent’s life ebbed away with each passing second.

As they hurtled toward the ground, Giran’s head lolled, his final, rasping breath escaping before his massive body went limp, Kakarot didn’t let up until they crashed into the earth, the impact sending a plume of dust and debris skyward.

When the dust settled, Kakarot remained atop Giran’s lifeless body, his tail still coiled tightly around the beast’s neck, his chest heaved with exertion, but a savage grin spread across his blood-smeared face, with a final, deliberate motion, he uncoiled his tail, letting Giran’s corpse slump unceremoniously to the ground.

Still bound by the sticky gum, Kakarot flexed his muscles and let out a guttural yell, power surging through his small frame, the gum stretched and snapped, pieces flying off as he stood tall, his energy flaring in the air around him, pride swelled in his chest as he wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, surveying his handiwork with a smirk.

Before Kakarot could fully bask in his triumph, Tao Pai Pai appeared beside him in a flash of movement, his expression calm yet cutting. “You passed, barely.” Tao said coldly, his sharp eyes narrowing at the young Saiyan.

“What?!” Kakarot protested, his tail flicking irritably behind him. “I crushed him!”

Tao’s response was swift and brutal, his hand shot out, striking Kakarot square in the stomach with enough force to send him staggering back a step. “Arrogance almost cost you the fight,” Tao said, his voice laced with disappointment. “You underestimated your opponent, got careless, and nearly lost control of the situation.”

Kakarot winced but straightened up quickly, his pride refusing to let him show weakness. “I still won,” he grumbled.

Tao’s lips curled into a faint, almost sadistic smirk. “You did, and your tactics at the end were... impressive.” He glanced down at Giran’s mutilated, lifeless form, the faintest glimmer of approval in his otherwise cold demeanor. “Cunning. Brutal. Effective. That’s the kind of thinking you’ll need if you’re to win.”

Kakarot’s scowl began to fade, the words sinking in, though harsh and delivered with Tao’s usual edge, they were unmistakably an acknowledgment of his skill,a gleam of satisfaction sparked in his dark eyes.

“But don’t let this victory make you complacent,” Tao warned, stepping closer and looming over the young Saiyan, his voice dropped into a low, commanding tone, each word laced with an edge that cut deeper than his earlier strike. “The real tests are far more dangerous than this, show that same cunning and brutality when it matters most, or you won’t live long enough to call yourself strong.”

Kakarot’s grin twisted into a frown, his pride at odds with Tao’s sharp rebuke, he couldn’t deny the truth in the assassin’s words, but the condescension lit a fire in his chest, still, he said nothing, knowing better than to voice the defiance blazing behind his eyes.

Their relationship was forged in necessity, a partnership of mutual benefit underpinned by a smoldering animosity. Tao, ever the calculating mercenary, saw potential in the young Saiyan’s ferocity and raw power. Meanwhile, Kakarot recognized Tao’s brutal training and strategic mind as tools to make him stronger, tools he would one day surpass and discard.

“Come,” Tao said simply, turning on his heel without another glance at Giran’s corpse, his movements were measured and deliberate, his air of superiority making it clear he expected Kakarot to follow.

Kakarot lingered for a moment, standing over the remains of his defeated foe. His tail flicked once, the gesture an unspoken promise to himself, he clenched his fists, the mix of hatred and grudging respect in his heart fueling his resolve. Without a word, he fell into step behind Tao, bound by mutual benefits for now, it was only a matter of time before one would discard themselves of the other.

The Crane School dojo was a stark, imposing structure, its dark wooden floors polished to a reflective shine, the air inside heavy with the weight of discipline and rivalry, scrolls adorned the walls, each bearing the Crane School's emblem and philosophical teachings, though Kakarot couldn’t care less about any of it, he was there for one reason: to fight.

Tao strode confidently into the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, a smug grin stretched across his face, his footsteps echoed through the dojo as a handful of students, clad in Crane School uniforms, all bowed to him as he passed, watching the infamous assassin with a mix of awe and trepidation.

Kakarot followed a few steps behind, his expression a mix of irritation and anticipation, mixed with annoyance, as he was dressed in a ridiculous pink sleeveless gi, with the kanji for “kill” engraved in it, Tao had insisted on its usage for today, but it only angered Kakarot at being forced to submit himself to such a humiliating outfit, his eyes burned with barely contained anger and energy, scaring all the students of the dojo.

Tao turned abruptly, his grin widening as he addressed Kakarot, his voice dripping with confidence. “Today, boy, is the most important day of your miserable little life.”

Kakarot raised an eyebrow, his annoyance clear. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Tao gestured broadly around the dojo. “Because today, you will prove beyond any doubt that I am the superior teacher, my brother, Shen,” he spat the name like it was venom, “has always thought himself my equal, if not my better, a stupid assumption, since I’ve always been stronger, but when my student, my creation, defeats his best, the world will know the full truth.”

Kakarot rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “So, this isn’t about my training, it’s just another one of your ego trips.”

Tao’s grin faded, replaced by a sharp glare. “Your training is my ego, boy, do not forget who gave you the tools to become what you are, everything you’ve learned, everything you’ve achieved, is because of me.”

Kakarot’s tail flicked irritably, but he kept his mouth shut, he hated how Tao made everything about himself, but he couldn’t deny that the assassin had pushed him to new heights over the last few months, the thought of fighting one of Shen’s top students, of testing his strength against a fresh opponent, sent a thrill through him. He was ready.

Tao, noticing Kakarot’s growing eagerness, smirked again. “Don’t disappoint me, boy. Your success today will not only humiliate my brother but cement my legacy as the greatest master alive and the strongest on Earth.”

Kakarot clenched his fists, his smirk matching Tao’s in intensity, though it was fueled by a very different emotion. “I don’t care about your stupid rivalry,” he muttered under his breath, then louder, “Just point me to who I’m fighting.”

Tao gestured toward a set of double doors at the far end of the dojo. “Your opponent waits beyond those doors, Shen thinks they’ll be enough to put you in your place, prove him wrong.”

Kakarot didn’t wait for further instructions, he strode forward, his excitement bubbling over. “Finally,” he muttered. “Let’s see what they’ve got.”

As he reached the doors, Tao’s voice called out behind him, low and commanding. “Remember, boy, you’re not just fighting for yourself, you’re fighting for me.”

Kakarot didn’t turn around. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, pushing the doors open. “I don’t care much about you.”

The inner chamber of the dojo exuded elegance, tradition and exuberance, it was a big and spacious room, smooth, polished wood lined the floors, its surface so pristine that it reflected the light streaming through paper-paneled windows, ornate calligraphy scrolls hung from the walls, this would be the arena Kakarot would fight in.

Tao and Kakarot stepped into the room, their footsteps resonating softly in the quiet air, on the opposite side of the arena stood Shen, the Crane Hermit himself, with a smug, knowing grin plastered across his face, his posture mirrored Tao’s, arms crossed, chin raised in mock superiority, and as their eyes met, a palpable tension filled the room, the air practically sparking with the weight of their shared disdain.

“Well, well,” Shen drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “If it isn’t my dear brother, I see you’ve brought a child to do a man’s job.”

Tao scoffed, his smirk widening. “And I see you’re still clinging to mediocrity, Shen. I suppose it’s no surprise you’re putting your hopes in a student who’s about to lose to a kid.”

Shen’s eyes narrowed, though his smile didn’t falter. “You must be truly desperate, Tao, to think a mere six months of your so-called training can prepare a child to defeat one of my students. Tien here has been under my guidance for years, his experience and discipline are unmatched.”

Tao chuckled darkly, his tone cutting. “If your student was worth anything, he wouldn’t need years to be competent, a true master produces results quickly. You’ll see soon enough, when your prized pupil is lying defeated at the hands of my student, it will prove my superiority once and for all.”

The two brothers continued their bickering, their insults growing sharper with each exchange. Kakarot, however, tuned them out entirely, his focus was locked on the figure standing at the opposite edge of the arena, the young man was tall and imposing, his shaved head gleaming under the light, his muscular frame in full view, as he was using only dark green pants with a red sash tied at his waist, a third eye sat centered on his forehead, its gaze as intense as the other two.

Tien Shinhan stood with a calm but fierce composure, his arms relaxed at his sides, his expression was neutral, but his dark eyes burned with quiet determination, like Kakarot, he seemed to disregard the bickering masters, his attention fixed on his opponent.

As their gazes locked, the room seemed to fall silent, the world narrowing to just the two of them. Neither moved nor spoke, but the tension between them was electric, they didn’t need introductions, they had heard of one another through their respective masters, their reputations preceding them.

This is him, huh? Kakarot thought, his Saiyan instincts stirring as he took in Tien’s formidable presence. Finally, a real challenge.

Tien’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Kakarot, his third eye unblinking. This is master Tao’s so-called prodigy? Hmph. Let’s see if he’s worth the hype.

The stillness between them was charged, a silent acknowledgment of the fight to come, neither spoke, but in that moment, both warriors understood, they were about to face an opponent unlike any they had fought before.

The atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by a soft fluttering sound, as from behind Tien, a small figure floated into view, Chiaotzu, his pale face unreadable, his tiny body hovered just off the ground, arms stiff at his side, his black hat tilting slightly as he cocked his head to examine Kakarot.

Kakarot blinked, caught off guard by the strange presence. “Uh… what’s your deal?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the floating figure. Chiaotzu’s expression didn’t change, his gaze drifting up and down Kakarot like he was sizing him up.

“You’re smaller than I thought,” Chiaotzu said suddenly, his voice soft but pointed, he smirked faintly. “I think I might even be taller than you.”

Kakarot’s tail bristled, his pride flaring. “What?! No way! I’m still growing, okay?” He clenched his fists, glaring at Chiaotzu, who remained unfazed.

“Sure you are,” Chiaotzu replied, his smirk widening. “Maybe in a few years, you’ll hit a growth spurt, if you survive this fight, that is.”

Kakarot’s cheeks flushed with anger, his frustration bubbling over. “Listen, you little… Whar even are you?”

Chiaotzu’s giggle was eerily quiet, his calm taunts only aggravating Kakarot further. “With those clothes you’re wearing, is Tao your daddy? Are you sure he didn’t bring you here for bring your kid to work day?”

Before Kakarot could retort, a sharp voice cut through the exchange. “That’s enough, Chiaotzu.” Tien’s tone was firm, yet there was an air of command that silenced his companion instantly. Chiaotzu floated back, his smirk fading into a neutral expression as he returned to Tien’s side.

Tien stepped forward, his tall, imposing frame towering over Kakarot, he inclined his head slightly, his demeanor formal but radiating arrogance. “Kakarot, I presume. I’ve heard much about you.” His third eye focused intently on the boy, his gaze unwavering. “I hope you’re ready for what’s about to happen, it would be a shame for this match to end too quickly.”

Kakarot’s initial frustration melted into a smirk, his Saiyan pride flaring to match Tien’s tone. “Oh, don’t worry about me, I’m always ready, the real question is whether you’re ready to lose.”

Tao and Shen turned their attention to the arena, their bickering momentarily paused, Tao smirked, arms crossed. “It seems our students are eager to settle this, brother.”

Shen’s expression mirrored his rival’s, though his gaze flickered with faint concern. Indeed, Tao. It’s about time we let them demonstrate who’s truly superior. Though I must admit, I almost pity your child prodigy.”

The two masters stepped aside, their smug expressions lingering as Kakarot and Tien moved into position, the two stood still for a moment longer, tension crackling in the air. Then, as if on cue, both moved into their stances, muscles tensed, their gazes locked, there were no taunts, no words, only the silent promise of a battle that would shake the arena. Tao and Shen looked on, their rivalry embodied in the two warriors about to clash.

“Begin!” Shen’s voice rang out, sharp and clear, as the match commenced.

The moment Shen’s command echoed through the dojo, both fighters sprang into action, their movements a blur of speed and precision. Kakarot launched forward with a wild burst of energy, his fists aiming straight for Tien’s chest, who intercepted with a fluid block, deflecting Kakarot’s strikes while countering with a sharp knee aimed for the younger boy’s ribs.

Kakarot twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding the attack, his tail whipping behind him for balance. “Not bad!” he shouted, his excitement evident. He retaliated with a spinning kick aimed at Tien’s head, Tien ducked, his movements calm and measured, before driving an elbow upward into Kakarot’s gut, the blow landed, forcing Kakarot back with a grunt.

Before Kakarot could fully recover, Tien surged forward, aiming a rapid series of punches at his opponent, Kakarot blocked the first few strikes, the sharp impacts ringing through the dojo, until Tien overextended himself slightly with a missed jab, Kakarot capitalized on it instantly, dodging and delivering a punch straight at Tien’s gut.

“You’re better than I expected,” Tien remarked, his tone confident but cold.

Kakarot grinned, undeterred. “And you’re just as full of yourself as I expected!” Without another word, he lunged again, this time aiming low, his smaller frame darted under Tien’s guard, delivering a crushing uppercut to the older fighter’s chin. Tien stumbled back, his head snapping up as he regained his footing, his expression hardening.

Both fighters leaped into the air simultaneously, their movements synchronizing as if they’d been trained together, a flurry of kicks and punches exchanged mid-air, each landing or narrowly missing its mark, Tien’s knee collided with Kakarot’s side, sending him spinning, but Kakarot countered with a backhanded strike that caught Tien’s jaw. They separated, landing gracefully on opposite sides of the arena.

“Enough games,” Tien said, raising a hand, his index finger pointed forward, glowing with a golden light. “Let’s see how you handle this!”

“Fine by me!” Kakarot shouted, mirroring the stance as his own finger glowed. Both fighters unleashed their Dodon Rays simultaneously, the golden beams shot across the dojo, colliding in the center with a deafening crack, sparks and energy exploded outward, forcing both fighters to brace against the shockwave.

The beams fizzled out, leaving a faint haze of smoke lingering between them, neither fighter hesitated, Kakarot charged through the smoke, aiming a fierce kick at Tien’s torso. Tien sidestepped, countering with a palm strike to Kakarot’s shoulder that knocked him off balance. Kakarot spun with the momentum, his tail lashing out and striking Tien’s thigh.

The two fighters squared off again, breathing heavily but showing no signs of relenting, their strikes and techniques perfectly matched. Tao and Shen watched from the sidelines, their expressions a mix of satisfaction and tension.

Kakarot crouched slightly, his muscles flexing in anticipation. “Not bad for someone with three eyes,” he quipped, his grin sharp and taunting.

Tien smirked, his third eye narrowing. “Let’s see how long you can keep up, little monkey.”

They lunged at each other again, fists and feet colliding in a brutal, dazzling display of martial arts, their movements a blur, fists colliding in mid-air or narrowly missing, each strike creating shockwaves that rattled the wooden beams of the luxurious arena, neither fighter relented, their techniques a seamless dance of offense and defense.

Kakarot’s fighting style had turned into an intriguing mix, his strikes were graceful and precise, drilled into him by Tao’s rigorous training, but there was an undercurrent of primal ferocity in his movements, wild and relentless, like a predator toying with its prey. One moment he was ducking and weaving with the elegance of a martial artist, the next, his attacks were brutal and raw, a powerful punch followed by a savage elbow strike that made Tien’s ribs throb, but each move had a purpose, a vital area hit, a blow meant to cripple and weaken his target, he wasn’t just feral, he was an elegant and brutal hunter.

On the other side, Tien was no less impressive, every counter, every block was executed with precision, his movements honed by years of discipline under Shen’s guidance. He moved with confidence, exploiting every gap in Kakarot’s attacks to land quick attacks, punishing him at every mistake he could exploit. A well-aimed blow caught Kakarot on the side, sending him skidding back, though the boy quickly regained his footing

Both fighters leapt back, their breathing steady, their eyes locked, Kakarot’s tail lashed behind him like a whip, his grin wide and vicious. “Not bad, three-eyes, you can actually keep up.”

Tien smirked, wiping a small trickle of blood from his lip. “It seems we are about equal, but my skill should win me this, easily.”

Tao’s voice suddenly cut through the chaos like a whip crack. “Kakarot!” he barked, his tone sharp and impatient. “Stop holding back and finish this already!”

Kakarot froze mid-step, the order ringing in his ears, his expression twisted with frustration as his head snapped toward Tao. “Tch... Fine,” he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with annoyance, he wanted to pace himself and enjoy this fight, but it seems he would have to speed it up.

Across the arena, Shen’s smug demeanor faltered, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “What? Holding back?” He turned to Tao, his face a mixture of confusion and irritation. “You’re telling me this brat hasn’t been fighting at full strength?”

Tien’s gaze snapped back to Kakarot, his earlier confidence shaken. “Is that true?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

Kakarot’s grin returned, wider and sharper than before. “Guess you’ll find out,” he said simply, his stance shifting subtly, his movements now exuding an almost predatory elegance.

Kakarot surged forward with a burst of speed, faster than before, his strikes coming harder and sharper. Tien immediately felt the difference, a spinning backfist grazed Tien’s cheek, followed by a lightning-fast kick that connected with his ribs, sending him skidding backward, before Tien could recover, Kakarot was already closing the distance, moving with the fluidity of a predator closing in for the kill.

He aimed for vital points, delivering a sharp elbow strike to Tien’s shoulder that made his arm numb, then sweeping low to knock Tien off his feet, yet, even as Tien stumbled, Kakarot’s feral instincts flared, and he delivered a brutal knee to Tien’s stomach that sent him crashing to the floor.

Kakarot didn’t let up, as Tien hit the floor, Kakarot landed a hard stomp near his opponent's side, cracking the wooden planks of the dojo, Tien barely rolled away in time, sweat dripping from his brow as he scrambled to his feet. But Kakarot was relentless, he kicked the wooden planks that had sprang up, shattering it and sending it’s splinters at Tien, who could only try and dodge, as some still hit and cut him, Kakarot then closed the gap in an instant, his fists flew with brutal precision, each strike aimed at weakening Tien further.

A punishing right hook slammed into Tien’s ribs, the force nearly folding him in half, a spinning kick followed, catching Tien’s shoulder and forcing him to retreat. Kakarot pressed forward, his movements a lethal blend of Tao’s disciplined style and the primal ferocity that came naturally to him, his attacks were relentless, flowing like a predator driving its prey to exhaustion, only to then pounce with finality.

Tien winced, clutching his side as he realized Kakarot was gaining the upper hand, his strikes were hitting harder, his movements faster and more refined, if this kept up, Tien wouldn’t last much longer. He exhaled sharply, planting his feet before darting forward, just as Kakarot lunged to intercept him, Tien’s form shimmered and vanished, leaving a faint blur in his place.

“What?!” Kakarot growled, his wild eyes darting around, before he could react, Tien reappeared behind him, driving a sharp kick into Kakarot’s back, he stumbled forward, his tail lashing angrily, but before he could counter, Tien disappeared again, delivering another quick strike to Kakarot’s side.

The attacks came in rapid succession. Tien appeared and vanished like a phantom, striking from unpredictable angles, a few copies of Tien appeared around the arena, Kakarot swung wildly at one of the images, only to hit air. “Damn it!” he snarled, frustration mounting as Tien’s technique kept him off balance.

But Kakarot wasn’t one to stay confused for long, his sharp instincts and rapid learning kicked in, he focused intently, trying to catch any hint of who the real one could be, and when Tien reappeared for another strike, Kakarot spun sharply, his tail lashing out and nearly catching Tien mid-air.

“Oh, I see how you’re doing it now,” Kakarot grinned, his voice low and dangerous. “Nice trick, guess I’ll give it a shot.”

Before Tien could react, Kakarot blurred, his image splitting into multiple copies scattered across the arena, Tien’s eyes widened as not two or three, but nearly a dozen Kakarots surrounded him, each one moving too quickly for him to perceive.

“What?!” Tien exclaimed, his composure slipping as the afterimages darted toward him from all sides.

The real Kakarot was among them, his attacks masked by the swarm of illusions, Tien blocked one punch only to be struck from another direction, A knee connected with his chest, then a spinning kick hit his leg, sending him reeling, Kakarot’s voice echoed tauntingly from the illusions.

“Not so easy when it’s you getting overwhelmed, huh?”

Gritting his teeth, Tien realized he couldn’t outlast Kakarot in this state, his body ached, his breath was ragged, and the illusions had him completely surrounded, with no other choice, he brought his hands together, his fingers splayed in a precise formation.

“Let’s see how you handle this!” Tien shouted. “SOLAR FLARE!”

A blinding explosion of light filled the dojo, searing and disorienting, Kakarot yelped, covering his eyes as the afterimages dissipated. “What the hell?!” he growled, blinking furiously to clear his vision.

Tien didn’t waste the opening, he moved in swiftly, his strikes landing with surgical precision, a hard elbow to Kakarot’s chest knocked the wind out of him, followed by a spinning kick to his head that sent him crashing to the ground.

Through the ringing in his ears, Kakarot slowly pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head to clear the dizziness, his breathing was shallow, but he refused to give in, Tien had pushed him this far, but the Saiyan’s blood was still boiling, the primal hunger for victory rising again. He wasn’t going to be beaten, not by someone like Tien.

In a blur, Kakarot rushed in, attacking relentlessly, Tien tried to block, to evade, but it was becoming impossible. His mind raced, thinking of a way to turn the tide in his favor, but Kakarot’s strikes kept coming, relentless and overwhelming.

With one final blow, Kakarot’s knee collided with Tien’s stomach, sending him skidding across the dojo floor. Tien’s body was aching from the barrage of attacks, he staggered to his feet, eyes wide with frustration, there was no escaping Kakarot's speed and ferocity, his arms and legs felt heavy, and his energy was quickly draining, his normal strategies weren’t working, and he couldn’t rely on his usual techniques to gain an advantage.

Suddenly, a spark of desperation lit in Tien’s eyes. His last resort, his final hope to turn the tide. "Four Witches Technique...!” Tien shouted, his voice sharp and filled with resolve.

In that moment, Tien’s body twisted, his hands moving in precise formations, a heavy, pulsing aura surrounded him as he began to change, his body surged with energy, his muscles growing larger, his veins popping out in stark relief as the transformation began.

Then, as though some dark magic had been unleashed, Tien’s form became more grotesque, two massive arms sprouted from his sides, each limb swinging independently but with coordinated precision, his stance became wider, his strength increased.

Kakarot blinked, momentarily stunned, he had never seen anything like this before, and it caught him off guard. Tien stood there, a hulking figure, eyes glowing with a new, intense energy, he was faster, stronger, and the aura around him had completely changed.

Tien’s multiple arms lashed out, each blow coming from a different angle, Kakarot’s instincts flared as he readied himself, his body moving with blinding speed to keep up, his tail lashed around behind him, helping him evade one of Tien’s strikes and countering Tien’s newly formed arms as though it was another appendage of his own. Blow after blow, Kakarot and Tien exchanged vicious attacks, each strike ringing out with the sound of raw power.

But despite his added arms, Tien couldn’t keep up with Kakarot’s relentless pace, Kakarot’s body was a blur as he evaded and countered, his strikes more powerful, his tail an extension of his own fighting style. Slowly, the advantage Tien had gained from his Four Witches Technique was being chipped away.

Kakarot’s expression darkened with focus as he saw Tien beginning to tire, his strikes becoming less coordinated, Kakarot wasn’t giving him any room to breathe, the battle was nearing its end, and Kakarot’s energy was still high.

Tien was fading, his strength dwindling with every hit, Kakarot’s tail whipped out, striking Tien’s right arm, sending a jolt of energy through it that left the arm hanging limply, Tien’s eyes widened, and he staggered back, barely able to keep his footing.

This was the moment.

Kakarot grinned, his heart pounding with excitement, he’d worn Tien down enough, his energy was still flowing through him, practically crackling in the air around him, waiting for the moment to strike.

With a growl, Kakarot leapt forward, his hands pointing forward, energy gathering on the tips of both his index fingers, as a golden light shined on each one.

“Dodon Ray Barrage!”

Kakarot unleashed a rapid-fire barrage of blasts, each ray of energy struck Tien’s limbs, systematically crippling them one by one. The first Dodon Ray hit Tien’s left arm, sending it limp to his side. The next hit his right arm, leaving it hanging uselessly. Kakarot didn’t pause, hitting Tien’s legs next,his knees buckling under the pressure, weakening him further, to finish it off, he crippled both of his extra arms with the final two Dodon Rays.

Tien’s body was shaking, struggling to stay upright, his breath was ragged, his limbs barely responding, he knew it was over.

But Kakarot wasn’t done, he still had one final move to make.

“KA... ME... HA... ME... HAAAA!”

Kakarot’s voice boomed as he unleashed the full force of his Kamehameha wave, the blue beam of pure energy shot from his palms, a tidal wave of energy crashing into Tien, the blast tore through the dojo, sending a shockwave of energy that burst trough the walls, startling all the students and rattling the entire dojo.

Tien was caught directly in the blast, unable to dodge or even raise his arms in defense, the full force of the Kamehameha washed over him, sending him crashing backward and through the dojo walls, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

When the dust finally settled, there was silence, Tien lay on the ground outside, battered and broken, but not dead, his breathing was shallow, and his body was covered in bruises, but he was alive.

Kakarot stood at the center of the dojo, chest heaving, his tail swishing behind him in excitement. He had won. “Not bad, Tien,” his voice filled with a strange mix of respect and exhilaration. “But you were never going to beat me.”

He looked over at Tao, who had been watching the entire fight with a smug, satisfied expression. “Well, Tao? How was that? Did I honor you?” Kakarot asked in a mocking tone, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Tao chuckled darkly, clearly pleased with his student’s performance, and basking in his own glory. “Exactly as I instructed, Kakarot. I’ve proven myself today.”

Shen’s jaw tightened, his face a mixture of frustration and begrudging respect. He couldn’t believe it, Tien had been the superior fighter, the one with years of training under his belt, yet Kakarot had defeated him, struggling at times, yes, but not nearly as much as Shen would have expected. Tien’s techniques had been impressive, but in the end, it wasn’t enough.

Shen gritted his teeth, looking over at the wreckage of his dojo and the defeated form of Tien, he had never expected this outcome, his face flushed with embarrassment, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile. “Well... Tao, it seems your student has... surpassed mine. Congratulations, I suppose.”

But Tao didn’t waste any time. “Oh, I’m sure it was a real shock to you, Shen,” he said with a mocking tone, his eyes glinting with pride. “It’s hard to accept when a more skilled fighter beats your pet project, isn’t it? I guess you are worse than me in everything, after so many years as a teacher, I come in and do it better than you in… oh, just six months.”

Shen’s eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Chiaotzu, who had been standing quietly to the side, rushed over to Tien’s motionless body, his face was unreadable, but there was a sense of urgency as he crouched beside his friend. “Tien... Tien, wake up!” he said softly, tapping his cheek in an attempt to rouse him.

Shen glanced at Chiaotzu, his gaze filled with a strange mix of worry and annoyance. “Keep your composure, Chiaotzu,” he muttered, though there was some concern for Tien, he had been his pride, and now he was left crumpled on the dojo floor, defeated by a child.

Shen shot one last glare at Tao, but turned his focus to Tien, who was still unconscious, he muttered under his breath. “This isn’t over. You’ll see. I’ll be back.”

As Shen walked over to Tien, helping Chiaotzu lift him, Kakarot couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph, his body ached from the battle, but the rush of victory felt even sweeter.

“Alright, kid,” Tao said to Kakarot, clapping him on the shoulder. “You did well.” His grip the tightened, hurting Kakarot’s shoulder. “But don’t forget who got you here.”

Kakarot rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replied, brushing Tao’s hand aside. But a part of him was already thinking about what came next, there was still so much to learn, so much to conquer. He had just proven that his strength was more than enough to take down powerful foes, and this was just the beginning, maybe Tao can be next.

The two left, but back outside the dojo, Tien slowly regained consciousness, wincing at the ache in his body. As Chiaotzu rushed to his side, Tien rubbed his forehead, staring at the spot where Kakarot had stood just moments ago, he couldn’t deny the sting of defeat, but something else lingered, respect. Kakarot had pushed him to his absolute limits, his strength, speed, and relentless fighting style leaving Tien in awe.

"You fought well," Chiaotzu said gently.

But Tien only nodded, his expression thoughtful. "He’s strong," Tien muttered, still feeling the weight of the battle. “Stronger than I expected.”

Despite losing, Tien wasn’t angry. Instead, a fire ignited within him, he’d found a true rival in Kakarot, someone who would push him to grow even stronger. "I’ll get stronger," Tien said with determination, standing up. "Next time, I won’t lose." Chiaotzu watched his friend with a relieved smile, knowing Tien had found a new challenge that would drive him forward.

Chapter Text

The forest was eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the wind, it had been seven months since Kakarot started his training, and now he and Tao both stood opposite to one another, the forest would be their arena.

On one side, Kakarot stood, his body thrumming with energy, his muscles, honed over months of relentless training, were taut and ready, a wild grin split his face, his tail swishing behind him in anticipation. The thrill of battle coursed through him like fire in his veins, he dropped into a fighting stance, knees bent, arms raised defensively, his aura faintly crackling as his power surged.

Across from him, Tao stood as calm and unshakable as a mountain, one hand rested behind his back, his posture deceptively relaxed, his cold eyes locked onto Kakarot, his expression unreadable, to an untrained observer, he might have seemed disinterested, but Kakarot knew better, Tao’s stillness was like the calm before a storm, and beneath his composed exterior was a man ready to strike like a coiled viper.

“You’ve grown stronger,” Tao remarked, his voice low and steady. “show me you’ve learned something.”

Kakarot’s grin widened. “I’ve learned plenty, let’s see if you can keep up, old man!”

The two didn’t waste time exchanging further words, Kakarot lunged first, his feet kicking up dirt as he closed the distance in a blur, his fist shot forward, aiming for Tao’s chest, the assassin sidestepped effortlessly, his hand whipping out to slap Kakarot’s punch aside with practiced ease.

But Kakarot dodged and spun with the momentum, bringing his leg up in a sharp arc aimed at Tao’s temple, Tao ducked, the kick whistling over his head, and retaliated with a palm strike to Kakarot’s exposed ribs, the impact was sharp and precise, sending Kakarot skidding back several feet.

“You’re still predictable,” Tao said, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve.

Kakarot chuckled, rubbing his side. “Keep talking, old man. If you don’t take me seriously, you’re going to regret it.”

The spar escalated, Kakarot attacked again, this time weaving his strikes with feints and unpredictable movements, his fists and feet became a blur, forcing Tao to shift from merely deflecting to actively blocking, the assassin’s composure remained intact, his hand darting out to catch one of Kakarot’s punches mid-swing.

Before Tao could counter, Kakarot twisted his body, using his tail to sweep at Tao’s legs, the move caught Tao off guard, forcing him to leap back to avoid being tripped, Kakarot didn’t relent, closing the gap instantly, unleashing a blow aimed straight at Tao’s jaw.

The impact was deafening, a brutal, sharp crack that echoed through the forest as Kakarot’s punch struck. Tao’s head jerked to the side, the force of the blow sending him stumbling backward, blood spurted from the corner of his mouth, staining his otherwise pristine expression.

Kakarot had a proud look on his face, but he knew what was coming, the first time he did this, their training had to be suspended for a day since Kakarot was nearly killed, the same won’t happen here.

Tao paused, his fingers brushing against the cut on his cheek, his eyes narrowed, and a dark frown crossed his face. “You’ve drawn blood,” he said, his voice laced with irritation. “You’ll regret that.”

In a single, fluid motion, Tao shifted into a proper fighting stance, both hands came forward, his body coiling with lethal intent, his aura flared, a cold and menacing presence that sent a shiver down Kakarot’s spine.

The battle transformed, Tao’s movements became a blur, his strikes impossibly fast and precise, Kakarot found himself on the defensive, barely managing to block and dodge as Tao’s attacks came at him like a relentless storm, a sharp jab to his shoulder numbed his arm, followed by a brutal kick to his stomach that sent him crashing into a tree.

Kakarot spat out blood, his grin replaced by a grimace. “Not bad,” he muttered, wiping his mouth as he pulled himself to his feet. “But I’m not done yet!”

With a roar, Kakarot surged forward, his strikes fueled by pride and determination, he aimed for Tao’s vital points, fighting with an intensity that bordered on feral but with grace and deadly precision. Tao matched him blow for blow, the two exchanging vicious strikes that left both bleeding and battered.

Kakarot managed to land a devastating elbow to Tao’s ribs, eliciting a grunt of pain from the assassin, Tao responded by driving his knee into Kakarot’s thigh, nearly buckling the Saiyan’s leg, neither gave an inch, their mutual hatred and respect pushing them to their limits.

Blood spattered the forest floor as the two warriors clashed again and again, each strike drawing blood, weakening each other, Kakarot’s breathing became ragged, his body aching, but his grin returned.

Tao, his clothes torn and bloodied, regarded the young Saiyan with a mixture of frustration and grudging admiration. “You fight like a wild animal,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain, yet there was respect buried deep within his words. “But even in this wild state, you maintain control. You’ve truly become a monster.”

Kakarot chuckled darkly, the sound raw and defiant, his body was bruised, his breaths shallow, but the fire in his eyes burned hotter than ever. “A demon is more fitting,” he shot back, his lips curling into a smirk. “And I’m just getting started.”

Tao’s eyes narrowed, watching Kakarot’s every move as the young Saiyan charged forward, with a swift motion, Tao lunged, aiming a brutal punch directly at Kakarot’s head, but Kakarot was already anticipating it. With a fluid twist, he darted to the side, his tail sweeping low as he created distance, his movement a blur.

The distance between them was short, but that was exactly what Kakarot wanted, his energy flared, his palms igniting with the familiar blue glow of the Kamehameha. Tao’s eyes locked onto the attack, a confident smirk forming on his lips, he knew he could avoid it, knew it was too predictable to land, he prepared to leap and avoid the blast, he would punish Kakarot for attempting this foolish technique again,

Just as Kakarot rushed in, his hands cupping the growing energy between them, Tao jumped up, Kakarot attempted to land the Kamehameha from up-close so as to prevent Tao from countering, but his plans failed, or so Tao thought.

As Tao soared upward, Kakarot’s stance shifted subtly, his hands faltering and the blast suddenly flickering out of existence. Tao's eyes widened in shock and confusion as the energy he’d anticipated vanished from Kakarot’s palms, and his finger, his pointer finger, which had been held up this entire time, fired off in an instant.

The Dodon Ray erupted from Kakarot’s fingertip, the beam was perfected, deadly and precise, Tao’s instincts kicked in, his eyes tracked the beam, his body moving almost instinctively to avoid it, he twisted in the air, attempting to evade the deadly projectile. But he was still amid his evasive maneuver from Kakarot’s earlier feint, the high-speed blast was too fast, too accurate.

The Dodon Ray struck, piercing Tao’s side with a sharp, searing impact, the blast ripped through his guard, the energy tearing through his flesh, Tao gasped, his breath catching as the heat burned deep, the force of the blast leaving him staggered mid-air.

Kakarot stood below him, breathing heavily, his eyes narrowed. “Still predictable, you said.” His voice low and cold, his grin wide as he watched Tao struggle to recover from the sudden attack.

Tao didn’t answer immediately, he hung in the air like a hawk, his sharp eyes locked onto Kakarot below, the pain in his side burned with every breath, but he buried it beneath layers of discipline, the boy had dared to wound him, not once, but twice, and now Tao would show him the true cost of such audacity.

“You’re tenacious,” Tao called down, his voice carrying an edge of venom. “But even a wild dog can be put down.”

Kakarot smirked, defiant despite the exhaustion etched into his every move, his stance shifted slightly, readying for an attack. “Then come down here and try it, old man!”

The insult struck home, but Tao didn’t react, instead, his body tensed, energy rippling off him in cold waves, with a sudden burst of speed, he shot downward like a falling meteor, his form a blur as he closed the distance.

Kakarot braced, his instincts screaming at him to dodge, but Tao’s approach was deceptively fast, the assassin twisted mid-air, his body rotating like a deadly spiral, and then, just as he was within range, his leg lashed out in a powerful roundhouse kick aimed at Kakarot’s shoulder.

The blow connected with devastating force.

Kakarot’s body was sent hurtling through the air like a broken doll, he smashed through a tree trunk, the impact splintering the wood before he slammed into the ground, pain exploded in his shoulder, sharp and searing, as he rolled to a stop amidst the debris.

Tao landed lightly, he straightened, favoring his uninjured side, and surveyed the aftermath. “Stay down,” he said coldly, his voice devoid of emotion. “You’re outmatched.”

For a moment, there was silence, the forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see if Kakarot would rise.

Then, a sound broke the stillness, a low, ragged chuckle.

Tao’s eyes narrowed as Kakarot dragged himself to his feet, his arm hung limply at his side, his shoulder clearly dislocated, but the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed, blood dripped from his mouth as he grinned. “Outmatched?” he rasped. “Not… yet.”

With a sharp motion, Kakarot grabbed his dislocated arm and slammed it against a nearby tree, a sickening pop echoing through the clearing as he forced it back into place, his knees wobbled, but he steadied himself, his aura flickering back to life. “You’ll have to hit harder than that to keep me down.”

Tao’s expression darkened. “Stubbornness is not strength, boy, it’s going to get you killed, and soon.”

“Maybe,” Kakarot admitted, his grin widening despite the pain. “But it’s enough to beat you.”

Tao wasted no time responding, with a sudden burst of movement, he closed the distance between them in an instant, his hands a blur as he unleashed a series of precise strikes aimed at Kakarot’s vital points. Kakarot deflected the first few, but Tao’s speed and precision were overwhelming.

A palm strike to Kakarot’s ribs drove the air from his lungs, a follow-up elbow to his temple left him staggering, his vision swimming, Tao didn’t let on, his knee slamming into Kakarot’s stomach, forcing him to double over.

Tao stepped back, his breathing heavy but controlled. “You’ve fought well, you’ve certainly become more resilient,” he said, his tone almost begrudgingly respectful. “But this is over.”

Kakarot coughed, blood splattering the ground as he struggled to stand upright, his body screamed in protest, every muscle aching, but his grin never wavered. “You talk too much,” he growled.

With a sudden burst of energy, Kakarot lunged forward, his movements wild but calculated. His tail lashed out, catching Tao’s ankle and pulling him off balance, Tao twisted mid-fall, aiming a strike at Kakarot’s head, but the Saiyan ducked, his own fist shooting upward in an uppercut.

The punch connected, snapping Tao’s head back and sending him skidding across the ground. Kakarot stood, his chest heaving, his body battered but unbroken. “I told you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not done yet.”

Despite his grit, Kakarot’s breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a reminder of how much punishment he had taken, his body screamed for rest, but his mind burned with a singular purpose: to prove himself, no matter the cost. The fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever, defying his battered frame.

He dropped into a low stance, his feet digging into the dirt for balance, his tail lashed behind him, a predator’s focus sharpening his every move. Tao, standing a short distance away, wiped blood from his mouth and straightened, his cold, calculating gaze locking onto the younger fighter.

"You’re still standing," Tao muttered, his voice a mix of annoyance and grudging respect. "But standing isn’t fighting."

Kakarot didn’t respond with words, instead, he surged forward with explosive speed, his entire body moving as a single weapon, Tao’s eyes widened slightly, just enough to show he hadn’t fully anticipated the assault.

Kakarot’s right fist shot forward like a cannon, burying itself deep into Tao’s gut, the force of the blow bent Tao forward, his breath leaving him in a sharp gasp, but before Tao could counter, Kakarot’s tail snapped upward like a whip, coiling briefly around Tao’s knee and yanking it forward with brutal force.

Tao stumbled, his balance momentarily broken, but Kakarot wasn’t done, using the momentum of his own attack, his left arm swung upward in a fierce uppercut, aimed directly at Tao’s face, but the assassin managed to twist his body slightly, deflecting the blow with a raised forearm, but the force still sent him skidding back a step.

Kakarot pressed on, not giving Tao a moment to recover, he twisted his torso, pivoting on one foot to unleash a spinning backhand aimed at Tao’s head, Tao ducked, his reflexes sharp, but Kakarot anticipated it, without breaking his stride, his tail struck again, slamming into Tao’s ribs with enough force to leave a visible mark.

Tao grunted, the pain briefly flickering across his face before his stoicism returned, his movements shifted, becoming more defensive, ready to counter, with a sharp motion, he lashed out, a knife-hand strike aimed directly at Kakarot’s throat.

The young Saiyan ducked under the blow, weaving with raw instinct, but Tao’s follow-up was immediate, pivoting on his heel, Tao drove his elbow into Kakarot’s collarbone with brutal precision, the impact sent a jolt of pain down Kakarot’s arm, threatening to weaken his grip.

Kakarot hissed through gritted teeth but refused to falter, his body screamed at him to stop, to retreat, but he silenced the pain with sheer will, instead of falling back, he used the momentum of the hit, twisting into a sharp upward kick aimed at Tao’s side. Tao deflected it with a raised arm, the clash sending a shockwave through the clearing.

"Reckless," Tao snarled, his eyes narrowing, he moved with surgical precision, his palm striking out like a serpent, slamming into Kakarot’s chest, the blow knocked the air from Kakarot’s lungs, sending him staggering back a step.

But the Saiyan’s fiery determination refused to let him stay on the defensive, gasping for breath, he surged forward again, his movements unrelenting, with a feral growl, Kakarot used his tail to whip at Tao’s ankle, forcing the assassin to shift his stance, at the same time, Kakarot jumped up and brought both fists down in a hammer strike aimed at Tao’s head.

Tao raised his arms to block, absorbing the impact, but Kakarot didn’t relent, his strikes came faster, his body moving with a chaotic rhythm that was both wild and purposeful. Each blow chipped away at Tao’s defenses, forcing the assassin to backpedal.

“You’re still weak,” Tao spat, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

Kakarot grinned through the blood on his lips. “Then why are you struggling?” his right knee shot upward, slamming into Tao’s side where the Dodon Ray had struck earlier, Tao hissed in pain, his movements faltering for a split second.

Kakarot seized the opening, twisting his entire body into a spinning elbow strike aimed at Tao’s chest. The impact landed, driving Tao back another step.

Tao staggered back, clutching his side, his cold eyes narrowing as he analyzed Kakarot’s next move, the boy was relentless, his energy raw and chaotic, but there was no mistaking the precision hidden within his wild strikes, Tao hated to admit it, but the boy had become a true threat.

Kakarot didn’t waste the opening, he thrust his hand forward, energy crackling around his fingertips as he unleashed another Dodon Ray, the golden beam tearing through the air toward Tao with lethal intent.

Tao’s expression hardened, he raised his own hand, his movements swift and unflinching, a brighter, more concentrated Dodon Ray erupted from his finger, colliding with Kakarot’s attack mid-air, the two beams clashed for a moment, but Tao’s superior technique won out, his beam sliced cleanly through Kakarot’s, racing toward the young Saiyan.

Kakarot gritted his teeth, his feet digging into the ground as he braced himself, the incoming beam surged closer, but he didn’t flinch, at the last moment, his free hand shot up, glowing with energy, another Dodon Ray burst forth, Tao’s dodon ray went trough Kakarot’s shoulder, but he didn’t notice Kakarot’s second beam.

The second beam closed the distance in an instant, forcing Tao to twist his body in a desperate attempt to avoid it, he narrowly succeeded, but not entirely, the beam grazed his chest, burning through his clothes and flesh, Tao staggered, the attack left a searing hole just below his collarbone, missing his heart by inches.

“Clever… boy,” Tao hissed, his voice dripping with venom, he pressed a hand to the wound, blood staining his palm, his anger flared, eclipsing his pain. “But clever won’t save you now!”

Tao lunged forward with deadly precision, closing the gap between them in the blink of an eye, his fist struck Kakarot’s stomach with enough force to drive the wind from his lungs, before Kakarot could recover, Tao’s palm slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards like a cannonball.

Kakarot’s body collided with a tree, the impact splintering the trunk and shaking the forest, blood dripped from his mouth as he slumped momentarily, the pain nearly overwhelming him.

Tao straightened, his breath labored but his composure intact. “It’s over,” he declared coldly, turning his back on the Saiyan.

But Tao had underestimated him yet again.

Through sheer force of will, Kakarot used the momentum of his fall to spring himself upward, his legs coiled like a spring as he kicked off the fractured tree trunk, launching himself high into the air, leaves and broken branches scattered as he soared, his figure silhouetted against the faint light filtering through the canopy.

Tao turned at the last second, his eyes narrowing as he saw Kakarot hovering above him, his body bloodied but still radiating defiance.

High above the battlefield, Kakarot hovered unsteadily, blood staining his tattered clothes, but his eyes burned with an unrelenting fire, he could feel his energy waning, his life force ebbing away like a flickering candle. But he had one attack, this attack was a gamble, a desperate, reckless gamble.

But it would be worth it, it might kill him and Tao, but he would die happy.

Kakarot spread his arms wide, his palms open as he tried to gather every ounce of power he had left in him, the air around him seemed to thrum and distort, bending under the sheer weight of his energy.

Tao, standing on the forest floor below, narrowed his eyes, his body trembled slightly from the exertion of the fight and the searing pain in his chest, he could sense the energy Kakarot was building, raw and unstable. His lips curled into a sneer.

"What nonsense is this, boy?" Tao called out, his voice sharp but tinged with unease.

Kakarot smirked, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. "I should thank you, Tao... for the training," he called down, his voice carrying through the forest, then his smirk widened, his tone shifting to mocking. "But you’re still a washed-up assassin who couldn’t even keep up with a kid."

Tao’s fists clenched, his pride burning brighter than his pain. "You arrogant little-"

Kakarot didn’t let him finish, his arms moved with deliberate precision, forming the unmistakable stance of the Tri-Beam, his hands aligned into a triangular frame, and the energy within it grew brighter, pulsating with unimaginable power. The light cast sharp shadows through the forest, illuminating Tao’s expression as it shifted from anger to shock.

"Fool!" Tao roared, his voice laced with fury and desperation. "Do you even know what you’re doing? That technique will kill you!"

Kakarot’s laughter echoed through the forest, wild and defiant. "Maybe it will, but what’s the point of living if I can’t prove myself?!"

Tao’s instincts screamed at him to stop the attack, without hesitation, he raised his hand, his finger glowing with the deadly golden light of a Dodon Ray. With a sharp cry, he fired, the beam slicing through the air toward Kakarot, aiming straight at his head, aiming to kill.

But it was too late.

"TRI-BEAM!"

The words tore from Kakarot’s throat like a battle cry, and the world seemed to explode with light, a colossal pillar of golden energy erupted from his hands in the shape of a square, descending toward Tao with the force of a falling star, the attack roared like a raging tempest, tearing through the air with a deafening hum, trees splintered and uprooted, the ground buckling and cracking as the beam struck with cataclysmic force.

Tao barely had time to react, his Dodon Ray being engulfed by the blast. He crossed his arms in front of him, bracing himself as the Tri-Beam slammed into the earth, consuming everything in its path, the impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, leveling the surrounding forest and kicking up a massive cloud of debris. Tao’s body was engulfed by the energy, his scream lost in the overwhelming roar.

When the light finally faded, the forest was unrecognizable, the once-dense canopy had been reduced to a barren wasteland, the ground scorched and smoking. Tao stood in the center of the devastation, amidst the gigantic square crater that had formed, his body trembling. His clothes were in tatters, blood dripping from numerous wounds, a smoldering burn marked where the Tri-Beam had hit him, carving marks across his whole upper body.

He staggered, his legs barely holding him up, but he refused to fall, his breathing was ragged, and his eyes burned with a mix of anger and disbelief as he gazed up at Kakarot

Who was plummeting from the sky like a stone, his body was limp, his energy utterly spent, he crashed into the crater with a dull thud, dust rising around him as he lay motionless. His chest rose and fell shallowly, but he didn’t move, he was unconscious

Tao glared down at Kakarot’s crumpled form, his body a testament to resilience and recklessness, the young Saiyan lay unconscious, his once-defiant grin wiped away, his body battered and bruised, but still alive. Tao’s breathing was shallow, his own injuries screaming with every strained movement, he staggered closer, his gaze cold and calculating.

Kakarot had proven himself, beyond any doubt, the boy was strong, too strong, it was only a matter of time before that strength surpassed Tao’s own.

Tao clenched his fists, his bloodied knuckles whitening, his sharp eyes roved over Kakarot’s prone figure, he could end it here, kill Kakarot while he was unconscious, while the boy couldn’t fight back, one swift strike would do it, one final act to ensure that he would never be overshadowed, never be challenged.

He raised his leg, the tip of his boot hovering over Kakarot’s exposed chest, his lips curled in a sneer as anger surged within him, an unfamiliar storm of conflicting emotions. "You reckless, arrogant brat," Tao hissed, his voice low and venomous. "You think you can keep growing forever, that your strength has no bounds.”

His foot came down, but not in a killing blow, instead he delivered a sharp kick to Kakarot’s ribs, the unconscious Saiyan’s body jerked slightly from the impact, his head lolling to one side. Tao stared at him, his breathing heavy, his teeth grinding together in frustration, the kick wasn’t enough to kill, but it was enough to vent some of the boiling rage and turmoil within him.

Yet, as he stared at the boy he’d trained for seven grueling months, something stirred in Tao, he didn’t like Kakarot, no, he despised his brashness, his defiance, and his chaotic spirit. But he couldn’t deny the respect that had grown, unwillingly, over their time together, Kakarot had pushed past every limit, absorbed every lesson, and faced him with unwavering resolve.

He had never respected anyone like this before.

Tao spat blood onto the ground beside him, his gaze hardening, the decision weighed heavily in his mind. Killing Kakarot now would be easy and convenient, but Tao wasn’t blind to the potential the boy held, a partner this powerful, this relentless, could be useful, dangerous, but perhaps, a gamble worth taking.

With a growl, Tao bent down, his movements sharp and unkind, and hoisted Kakarot’s limp body over his shoulder. "I should leave you here," Tao muttered under his breath, his voice laced with both frustration and resignation. "But no, you’re not done being useful to me, not yet."

He staggered out of the crater, his steps slow but determined, the barren wasteland they had created stretched around them, a stark reminder of their destructive power, Tao’s thoughts churned as he carried the unconscious boy through the desolation.

One day, Kakarot would surpass him, that much was clear, but until then, Tao would use him, guide him, and maybe, just maybe, find a way to ensure that when the boy’s strength eclipsed his own, it wouldn’t mean his end, with such strength, together the two could achieve anything in this world.

The sun hung high over the tranquil beach near Kame House, its golden rays dancing on the waves, a gentle breeze rolled in from the ocean, carrying the scent of saltwater and the sound of seagulls, Master Roshi stood in the center of a makeshift sparring ring drawn in the sand, his staff planted firmly beside him, the old turtle hermit’s expression was calm, but his keen eyes gleamed with anticipation as he prepared to oversee the friendly spar.

To one side of the ring, Yamcha stretched and rolled his shoulders, his cocky grin splitting his face, the former bandit stood tall and confident, readying his signature fighting stance as he smirked at his opponents. “You two are strong, but, you sure you want to take on me? I wouldn’t want either of you crying if I make this look too easy,” he teased, cracking his knuckles.

On the other side, Chi-Chi and Krillin stood shoulder to shoulder, their smaller frames tense with focus, Chi-Chi clenched her fists, her fiery determination shining in her wide eyes. “You better not hold back, Yamcha, or we’ll make you regret it!” she shot back, her voice ringing with a mix of defiance and eagerness.

Krillin grinned, rubbing the back of his head as he adjusted his stance. “Yeah, don’t underestimate us just because we’re smaller! You can’t beat both of us!” he added, his voice light but no less resolute.

On the sidelines, Mai, Shu, and Puar cheered enthusiastically for Yamcha, waving and shouting words of encouragement. “Show them what you’ve got, Yamcha!” Mai called out, her voice tinged with admiration, Shu barked excitedly, while Puar floated nearby, brimming with confidence.

Launch, on the other hand, bounced on her toes as she cheered for everyone. “Go, Chi-Chi! Go, Krillin! Go, Yamcha! You’ve all got this!” she hollered, her enthusiasm infectious as her blue hair fluttered in the breeze.

Roshi raised his hand to signal the start of the spar. “Alright, you three, remember, this is a friendly match, and try not to wreck the place, let’s see how well you’ve all been training!” His voice carried authority, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement behind his shades.

Yamcha’s stance was relaxed and fluid, his confidence clear, but there was no arrogance coming from him. “Alright then, kids, show me what you’ve got.” His tone was playful but carried an edge of seriousness, his sharp eyes trained on both of his smaller opponents.

Chi-Chi and Krillin exchanged a quick nod, their determination unwavering, they might be smaller and younger, but they had something Yamcha didn’t, each other. As Roshi’s hand dropped to signal the start, both charged forward with a burst of speed, their unified war cries ringing out against the ocean’s rhythm.

Yamcha smirked as Chi-Chi and Krillin surged toward him, their movements fluid and in perfect sync, they had developed quite a bond, always being overshadowed by Yamcha’s greater strength, the two banded together to train, and try to close the gap between them and the bandit-turned-hero.

Chi-Chi led with a jump and a high, spinning kick, her foot slicing through the air toward Yamcha’s head, Krillin came in low, aiming a sweeping kick at his legs in perfect synchronization with Chi-Chi’s attack. Yamcha shifted his weight back just enough for Chi-Chi’s kick to pass harmlessly over his head while hopping lightly to avoid Krillin’s sweep.

“Not bad,” Yamcha said, his grin widening as he weaved through their offense. “You’re definitely faster than before, but I’m still faster!”

Chi-Chi and Krillin didn’t falter, pressing forward with relentless determination, Chi-Chi launched a series of sharp jabs, each punch precise, while Krillin darted to the side, throwing quick low kicks to keep Yamcha off balance. Yamcha responded with fluidity, his body moving as though anticipating their every move, his forearms flicked up to block Chi-Chi’s punches, each deflection met with a faint thud, while his legs shifted effortlessly to avoid Krillin’s strikes.

Despite their effort, Yamcha remained composed, his movements almost casual. “You two have great coordination,” he said, sidestepping a combined assault from both. “But let’s see how you handle being split up.”

In a flash, Yamcha shifted his stance, his relaxed grin giving way to sharp focus, as Krillin lunged forward with a punch aimed at his midsection, Yamcha caught the boy’s wrist with a firm grip, pivoting on his heel to use Krillin’s own momentum against him. With a controlled spin, he tossed Krillin to the side, sending him tumbling through the sand with a surprised yelp.

Chi-Chi barely had time to register her partner’s predicament before Yamcha turned his attention to her, she threw a wild punch, hoping to capitalize on his distraction, but Yamcha jumped over the blow with practiced ease, slipping into her guard, his leg swept out in a controlled arc, striking Chi-Chi’s legs and sending her crashing to the ground.

Chi-Chi growled in frustration, rolling back to her feet with the fierce determination of a warrior, her fists clenched, and her fiery eyes locked on Yamcha. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily!” she shouted, darting forward with renewed vigor.

Krillin scrambled up, brushing sand off his face as he darted back into the fray. “Yeah! Don’t get too cocky Yamcha!” he added, as both charged in from different directions.

Yamcha’s eyes narrowed as Chi-Chi and Krillin surged toward him with renewed focus, their coordination was sharper now, more deliberate, he could feel the change in their rhythm, a calculated strategy to keep him from finding an opening.

Krillin led with a flurry of quick punches aimed at Yamcha’s midsection, each strike forcing Yamcha to block or sidestep, before Yamcha could even think to counter, Chi-Chi was already closing in, her fist slicing toward his jaw, Yamcha leaned back, narrowly avoiding her attack, but Krillin was right there again, aiming a kick at his ribs.

“Not bad!” Yamcha said, deflecting the kick with his forearm, he shifted his weight, readying a counter, but Chi-Chi didn’t give him the chance, she darted in, aiming a precise jab at his shoulder, forcing him to redirect his focus.

The pattern continued, Krillin would attack, swift and unrelenting, and as soon as Yamcha dealt with him, Chi-Chi was right there, striking him non-stop. Their teamwork was seamless, almost like a dance, their movements flowing into one another in perfect harmony.

Yamcha found himself retreating step by step, his grin fading as he focused entirely on defending against their relentless assault, he swatted away a kick from Krillin, only to have to twist his body to avoid Chi-Chi’s spinning elbow, sweat began to bead on his brow as the two continued their coordinated onslaught.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” Krillin said with a smirk, ducking low and sweeping his leg toward Yamcha’s feet.

Yamcha hopped over the sweep, but Chi-Chi was already in his face, her knee driving toward his stomach, he twisted just in time to block it with his forearm, but the impact sent him skidding back a few steps in the sand.

From the sidelines, Roshi chuckled, stroking his beard. “They’re working together well,” he muttered to himself. “That’s the kind of teamwork that shows real progress.”

Mai and Shu cheered loudly for Yamcha, but there was a slight edge of nervousness in their voices now, Launch, ever the optimist, clapped enthusiastically for all three fighters.

Yamcha glanced down at his feet as his heels dug into the sand, his smirk returned. “You’re getting better, I’ll give you that,” he said, his tone still light but his movements more focused now. “But you still can’t keep up with me!”

He braced himself, the playful tone in his voice masking the fact that he was genuinely impressed. Chi-Chi and Krillin were pushing him harder than he had expected, and so, he would give his all against them.

Yamcha’s smirk widened as Krillin lunged forward with a determined punch, Yamcha sidestepped it with ease, redirecting the momentum with a light push on Krillin’s back, the boy stumbled forward, directly into Chi-Chi’s path, who was mid-swing, aiming a sharp elbow strike for Yamcha’s ribs, but instead, it connected squarely with Krillin’s forehead.

The impact sent the kid staggering back with a hand clutching his head. “Oww! What was that for, Chi-Chi? Watch what you’re doing!”

Chi-Chi’s face turned red, half with embarrassment and half with indignation. “Me? You’re the one who got in my way, cue ball!”

Krillin narrowed his eyes, ignoring the jab about his shiny head. “I wouldn’t have been in your way if you didn’t aim like a blind bat!”

Chi-Chi growled, her fiery temper flaring, but before she could retort, Yamcha dashed between them again, baiting another attack, Chi-Chi spun into a roundhouse kick aimed at Yamcha’s midsection, but Yamcha ducked at the last second, leaving Krillin, just regaining his footing, to take the full force of the kick square in the stomach.

“Gaaah!” Krillin doubled over, stumbling back as sand sprayed everywhere, he shot a glare at Chi-Chi, who gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! Again?!”

“I didn’t mean to-” she started, only to catch a mischievous smirk on Yamcha’s face as he flipped away from her retaliatory strike.

“You’re doing great, guys!” Yamcha teased, his voice dripping with mock encouragement. “If you keep this up, you might actually hit me someday.”

“Oh, that’s it!” Chi-Chi yelled, her frustration bubbling over as she darted toward Yamcha again. Krillin, still catching his breath, gritted his teeth and followed suit, determined not to let his rival get all the glory.

As the two charged together, their previous teamwork in tatters, Yamcha continued his evasive dance, artfully twisting and spinning to let their attacks miss by fractions of an inch. Another punch from Krillin was deflected, sending his fist wildly toward Chi-Chi, who ducked just in time, her counter-strike missed Yamcha entirely, clipping Krillin’s shoulder instead, sending him spinning.

“Stop hitting me!” Krillin yelled, exasperated as he stumbled back again.

“Then stay out of my way!” Chi-Chi snapped, glaring at him, her temper as fiery as her strikes.

Yamcha chuckled, smoothly weaving through their attacks. “Come on, you two, communication is key!” With a swift spin, he ducked under Chi-Chi’s kick and used the momentum to sweep Krillin off his feet, sending him tumbling into the sand, before Chi-Chi could react, Yamcha’s leg snapped out in a precise kick that knocked her back, landing both kids a few feet apart.

Standing tall, Yamcha rolled his shoulders, his muscles tensing as he shifted into a familiar stance. His hands came together, cupping at his side, and a faint blue glow began to build between his palms. “Alright, kids,” he said, his voice carrying a confident edge. “Let’s see how you handle this one. It’s time to step up your game!”

Chi-Chi and Krillin scrambled to their feet, their expressions shifting to a mix of determination and mild panic. “That’s not fair!” Chi-Chi shouted. “We don’t even know that move yet!”

“Yeah!” Krillin chimed in. “You’re using that move against us?”

But there was something in their tone, despite their protests, neither of them looked too worried. Yamcha narrowed his eyes but focused on the glowing energy in his hands, the faint hum of gathering power grew louder, and Roshi, standing on the sidelines, couldn’t hide the proud smile spreading across his face.

“Well, would you look at that,” Roshi murmured to himself, his voice tinged with wonder. “They’ve really come a long way. Maybe… just maybe, Yamcha’s even surpassed me.”

Mai clasped her hands together, her cheeks glowing as she gazed at Yamcha with sparkling eyes. “That’s my Yamcha! Show them what you’re made of!” she cheered, her voice brimming with admiration.

The glowing ball of energy in Yamcha’s hands grew brighter, illuminating the arena in a dazzling blue light. “Kaaa…meee…haaa…meee…” His voice boomed over the beach as the sand stirred around him from the sheer force of the building energy.

Krillin and Chi-Chi exchanged a quick glance, a knowing smirk passing between them, they weren’t as cornered as Yamcha thought.

“HAAAA!” Yamcha unleashed the Kamehameha, the beam shooting forward in a blinding flash, but then, a sharp crack broke through the air.

“Hold it right there!” Roshi’s voice cut through the chaos, accompanied by the sharp thwack of his cane against Yamcha’s head. The beam fizzled out mid-flight, dissipating harmlessly as Yamcha yelped and stumbled forward.

“Wha- what gives, old man?!” Yamcha protested, rubbing the growing lump on his head.

Roshi jabbed his cane toward the sand beneath Yamcha’s feet, his expression both stern and amused. “Look where you’re standing, boy! You’re out of bounds!” he declared, pointing at the faint line marking the edge of the arena, Yamcha’s heel had clearly crossed it during his dramatic stance.

Krillin and Chi-Chi burst into laughter, their earlier protests forgotten. “You got yourself out!” Krillin said, clutching his stomach. “Where is all that confidence now?”

Chi-Chi grinned, hands on her hips. “Next time, maybe you should focus more on your footing and less on showing off.”

Yamcha sighed, his shoulders slumping as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Alright, alright, I’ll admit it, I might’ve gotten a little too into myself there,” he said with a chuckle, his earlier confidence deflated. “Didn’t think I’d end up losing to a line in the sand.”

Master Roshi cleared his throat loudly, his cane tapping against the ground as he stepped forward. “Alright, enough horsing around, you three,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of authority. “We need to talk about what just happened here.”

The trio straightened up, their laughter fading as Roshi’s serious gaze moved between them. “Yamcha,” he started, pointing his cane at the taller fighter. “Your confidence isn’t misplaced, you are strong, but you let it go to your head, a fighter can’t afford to get distracted by their own ego, it blinds you to what’s happening in the fight.”

Yamcha nodded, scratching the back of his head. “Got it, Master, I’ll work on that.”

Roshi then turned to Chi-Chi, who bristled slightly under his scrutiny. “Chi-Chi, your anger is your strength, but it’s also your weakness, when you let your fury take control, you lose sight of your surroundings, and your teammates. A real fighter channels that passion, they don’t lash out wildly.”

Chi-Chi frowned but nodded. “I’ll...try to do better, Master Roshi.”

Finally, Roshi’s gaze landed on Krillin, who looked up nervously. “And you, Krillin, you’re competitive, and that’s a good thing, it pushes you to improve. But your need to outshine your teammates makes you reckless, fighting isn’t about showing off, it’s about adapting and working together when it counts.”

Krillin sighed, rubbing his neck. “Yeah... I guess I did kind of get caught up in trying to one-up Chi-Chi.”

Roshi straightened, leaning on his cane with a small smile. “Remember, the three of you are training to become stronger, not just as individuals, but as a team, learn from this spar, and from each other, if you do, you’ll grow into fighters that can handle anything.”

He then turned, his expression suddenly shifting to a silly grin, as he put a hand up to his ear. “Now, let’s hear it! The Turtle School motto! Come on, with feeling this time!”

The trio laughed and exchanged glances before standing upright in unison.

Krillin started, his voice loud and enthusiastic: “Work hard!”

Chi-Chi followed, her tone fiery and determined: “Study well!”

Finally, Yamcha smirked and finished: “And eat and sleep plenty!”

Together, all three declared the final line, their voices ringing in harmony: “That’s the Turtle Hermit way to learn!”

Roshi beamed with pride, his eyes glinting as he chuckled. “Ah, music to my ears! You three are the most promising batch of students I’ve ever had.” He paused, his tone softening as his gaze grew thoughtful. “But promise alone isn’t enough, you still need to experience more of this world, to face fighters of all kinds, and there’s no better place for that than the World Martial Arts Tournament!”

The trio’s expressions shifted to excitement at the mention of the famous tournament. “A week from now,” Roshi continued, “the greatest fighters from around the world will gather to test their strength, skills, and resolve. It’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to learn and grow.”

Yamcha, however, didn’t share in the giddy anticipation, his body tensed, his smirk fading into a serious expression as his gaze fixed on Roshi. “Do you think... Kakarot will be there?”

The air grew heavier at the mention of the name, Roshi’s grin faded, replaced by a grave look as he nodded slowly. “A fighter like Kakarot is bound to be attracted to it, someone as driven as him won’t be able to resist a stage like the tournament.”

Yamcha clenched his fists, his determination mingling with unease. “Then I need to prepare. If he’s there-”

“Stop right there, Yamcha,” Roshi interrupted, his tone firm. “Don’t let Kakarot’s presence distract you from your own path, this tournament isn’t about him, it’s about you. If you let your focus waver because of him, you’ll lose more than just a fight, you’ll lose the chance to grow.”

Yamcha’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, the raw emotions surging through him, anger, frustration, and a flicker of fear gnawed at his core, the memory of Kakarot’s overwhelming power, his ruthless ferocity, made his stomach churn, but as much as he wanted to argue, Yamcha couldn’t deny the truth in his master’s words.

Taking a steadying breath, he forced himself to nod. “I… I will try, master.” though the fire of determination in his eyes didn’t dim, silently, the group began to make their way to Kame House, the weight of the looming tournament, and the potential of Kakarot’s presence, pressing on each of their minds.

The morning sky was painted with hues of orange and yellow as the island hosting the World Martial Arts Tournament came into view, Tao and Kakarot streaked across the horizon atop their flying pillars, their silhouettes cutting a menacing contrast against the peaceful backdrop, as they descended, their presence was palpable, an oppressive aura radiated from both, chilling the air around them. Tao’s scowl deepened with every passing moment, his hands clenched behind his back as he balanced effortlessly on his pillar.

“What a waste of time,” Tao grumbled, his sharp tone dripping with disdain. “Parading around with these weaklings for sport? This is beneath me.”

Kakarot, standing confidently on his pillar, grinned with savage excitement. “I’m not here for games, Tao, I’m here to fight, if these weaklings bore me, fine, but maybe, just maybe, someone strong will show up.” His grin widened, his tail flicking lazily behind him. “Besides, I’ve managed to acquire a hit for us, he’s one of the fighter, that makes it worth the trip, doesn’t it?”

Tao’s expression shifted slightly, a glimmer of interest flashing in his eyes. “A hit, you say? Since when did you start going after hits by yourself? Well, I suppose I can tolerate this circus then.”

The two landed in front of the tournament gates, their feet crunching on the gravel, onlookers parted instinctively, their survival instincts kicking in as the pair strode forward with an air of lethal confidence.

Meanwhile, a plane touched down gently on a grassy field near the tournament grounds. The door swung open, and Roshi stepped out, flanked by Yamcha, Krillin, Chi-Chi, Mai, and Puar. The group was a stark contrast to Tao and Kakarot, bright smiles and laughter filled the air as they eagerly approached the gates. Krillin stretched his arms above his head, grinning. “Man, I’ve been waiting for this day! The tournament’s gonna be amazing!”

Chi-Chi nodded, her excitement clear as she jumped up and down. “I can’t wait to see how far we’ve come, I’m going to win this thing!”

Yamcha smirked, his gaze steady. “You’ve all worked hard, but don’t expect me to go easy on any of you, this is serious.”

Puar cheered alongside Mai, who gazed admiringly at Yamcha. “You’ll do great, Yamcha! Show everyone what you’re made of and beat that Kakarot bastard!”

As they neared the gates, another vehicle arrived, a sleek, custom helicopter descending gracefully, the door swung open to reveal Bulma, her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she stepped out, adjusting her bow with a delicate hand, she wore a burgundy top tucked into an orange skirt, her outfit simple yet perfectly complementing her youthful charm, but her bow stood out, tied neatly in her blue hair, fluttering slightly in the breeze as she gave it one last perfect adjustment.

In her free hand, she clutched a crumpled note, she had received in her mailbox, the rough handwriting on it unmistakable: "Meet me at the tournament." Her heart thudded faintly as she reread it, the thought of Kakarot stirring a mix of emotions within her, she bit her lip, the faint trace of pink lipstick accentuating her thoughtful expression. He leaves for 7 months and then just sends me this out of nowhere… I hope he’s doing well…

Bulma’s eyes scanned the bustling crowds, her heart racing with curiosity, anticipation and a flicker of annoyance at Kakarot’s abrupt message. Still, she straightened herself, her radiant smile and confident stride returning as she turned heads as she walked toward the gates, reveling in the stares and whispers of admiration. Men fumbled to get a better look, some stopping mid-conversation, while others tripped over themselves.

When she caught a particularly flattering comment from a passerby, a soft laugh escaped her lips. It was natural for her to be the center of attention, but in the privacy of her thoughts, she allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability, she was torn. So many guys around, but I keep thinking about him.

It was in that quiet moment of introspection that she realized she couldn’t help it. Kakarot had a way of making everything feel both chaotic and meaningful, even with his naivety and bluntness, there was something about him that made her heart beat a little faster.

As the group led by Roshi approached the tournament gates, the festive atmosphere of the grounds seemed to dissipate, replaced by a suffocating tension. The oppressive aura emanating from Tao Pai Pai and Kakarot was impossible to ignore, and the murmur of the crowd quieted to an uneasy silence, the group’s gaze landing on the deadly duo, conflict ready to ensue.

Kakarot’s sharp gaze swept over the approaching crowd, his tail flicking like a predator eyeing its prey, his lips curled into a half-smile, cold and predatory. “So, the old man decided to crawl out of his cave,” he said, his voice low and dripping with disdain. “And he brought his little circus with him.”

Tao’s eyes narrowed as his gaze locked onto Roshi, and a sinister smirk tugged at his lips. He clasped his hands behind his back, his stance mocking and unyielding. “Well, well,” Tao sneered, his voice sharp enough to cut through the tension, “the so-called Turtle Hermit dares to show his face, still clinging to your outdated ideals, I see.”

Roshi’s jovial demeanor vanishing, his posture straightened, and his eyes became steely, meeting Tao’s with an unwavering calm. “Tao, I never could’ve expected you’d take on a student, much less him, but this isn’t about ideals,” he replied, his tone quiet but firm, carrying an edge that silenced even the most skeptical onlookers. “This is about discipline, honor and growth, concepts you and Shen abandoned long ago.”

Tao’s smirk faltered for a heartbeat, but his pride reasserted itself. “Spare me your tired lectures, old fool,” he snapped, his voice rising slightly. “I’ve surpassed you in every way, you’re just a relic, clinging to relevance.”

Kakarot, meanwhile, barely spared a glance at Tao’s confrontation with Roshi, his attention was drawn instead to Yamcha, who stood tense and glaring daggers into him, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, Kakarot’s grin widened, his eyes narrowing with a mix of amusement and disdain. “You look familiar,” he said, tilting his head mockingly. “What was your name again? Yamaha?”

Yamcha’s face twisted with rage, his jaw tightening as his blood boiled. “It’s Yamcha,” he spat, his voice shaking with barely contained fury. “And you’d better remember it, Kakarot, because I’m going to wipe that smug grin off your face!”

Kakarot chuckled, low and menacing, a sound that seemed to reverberate in the pit of Yamcha’s stomach, he stepped forward, his tail lashing behind him like a whip. “Big talk for a little thief,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Are you still running with that gang? Well, what with its leader dead, I remember, crushing him under my foot like a bug.”

Yamcha lunged, his fury finally boiling over, but Roshi’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder with surprising strength. “That’s enough!” Roshi’s voice thundered, startling both Yamcha and Kakarot, his piercing gaze shifted to Kakarot. “This is a place for competition, not petty grudges and insults, stand down, both of you.”

But Kakarot wasn’t cowed, his grin twisted into a snarl as he turned his gaze on Roshi. “Petty grudges?” he growled, his voice dropping dangerously low. “You humiliated me, old man, stood there like I was nothing, like I didn’t matter. You think I forgot? You think I forgave?” His power surged briefly, the ground beneath him cracking as a faint gust of wind whipped around his frame.

Roshi held his ground, unflinching even as Kakarot’s aura brushed against him. “If that’s the way you see it, then your anger blinds you, I don’t care what you think of me,” Roshi replied, his voice calm but unyielding. “But if you can’t keep your anger in check, you have no business being here.”

The air was thick with tension, and even Tao paused to watch the exchange, his smirk replaced by a curious gleam in his eyes. Yamcha, shaking with anger, looked like he might explode, but Roshi’s grip on his shoulder kept him rooted.

Kakarot’s rage boiled over, his teeth bared as he stepped closer to Roshi, his voice a venomous growl. “You think you can lecture me? You’re just a coward who couldn’t face me properly. You saw my potential and decided to run from it, didn’t you? Admit it, you’re scared of me, of what I can do.”

The air grew heavier with every word, the crowd seemingly frozen in place. “It’s pathetic, really,” Tao said coldly, his gaze shifting between Roshi and Kakarot. “A washed-up master clinging to the past, and a feral child deluded into thinking he’s something more than a weapon waiting to break.”

“You speak of fear, Kakarot,” Roshi said, his voice even but carrying a depth that silenced the murmurs of the crowd. “But tell me, what do you fear? You wear your anger like armor, but it blinds you, pride fuels your strength, but it consumes you. You think power is enough to define your worth, to make you whole?”

Kakarot’s fists clenched at Roshi’s words, his aura beginning to flicker around him like an unstable flame. He turned his furious glare from Roshi to Tao, then back again, his tail lashing wildly. “Enough with the riddles, old man!” Kakarot snarled, his voice rose, trembling with fury as he took another step forward. “You think you can talk down to me? I should kill you right here! I’ll show everyone that your time is over and that I-”

“Kakarot!”

The shout cut through the tension like a knife, freezing Kakarot mid-sentence, his words died in his throat as his rage abruptly ebbed, leaving only confusion and something softer, something alien to the battlefield, his head whipped toward the source of the voice, his tail stilling as he saw her.

Bulma stood near the gate, her arms crossed and her expression cool, almost unimpressed by the suffocating tension and Kakarot’s violent aura. Her blue hair caught the sunlight, and her confident stance made her seem like a beacon against the chaos. “What the hell are you doing?” she called out, her voice sharp but not unkind. “Picking fights with old men and blowing your fuse already? The tournament hasn’t even started yet!”

For a brief moment, it seemed like the menacing predator had vanished entirely, replaced by someone else.

But as he turned his gaze back to Roshi, his anger returned, his fists clenching again, his tail lashed once behind him, though not as furiously as before. “You’re lucky, old man,” he growled, his voice low and filled with menace. “If she hadn’t shown up, I’d make sure you’d never walk again.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I hope to see you at this tournament, there you won’t be able to afford such luck.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kakarot turned and strode toward Bulma, his steps heavy with the remnants of his earlier fury, his face was set in a scowl, his usual bravado plastered back on.

Bulma raised an eyebrow as he approached, unimpressed by his theatrics. “Oh, don’t you give me that face,” she said, her tone dry but with a hint of amusement. “I’ve seen it a hundred times before, and it’s not as scary as you think it is.”

Kakarot’s scowl twitched, his tail curling slightly behind him, betraying his annoyance. “I don’t need to scare you,” he shot back, his voice still gruff, though his bravado seemed thinner now, less sure.

“Good,” Bulma quipped, hands on her hips. “Because it doesn’t work.” She softened slightly, her expression turning warm. “It’s good to see you, Kakarot. You’ve gotten taller since I last saw you.”

Kakarot’s bravado cracked, just a little. “And stronger,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, as if the words were more for himself than her.

“I bet you have,” she said, her tone teasing but fond, she threw her arms open suddenly, grinning. “Come here, you little monkey, I’ve missed you!”

Kakarot froze, completely caught off guard by the gesture, for a moment, he stood there, his body stiff and unsure. “What are you-”

Before he could finish, Bulma closed the distance, wrapping him in a tight hug, her arms enveloped him, pulling him into her warmth, Kakarot’s scowl faltered, his bravado dissolving entirely as his eyes widened. He stood there awkwardly, his arms hovering at his sides, unsure of what to do.

Bulma chuckled softly, her hands resting softly on his shoulder. “Still so stubborn, really, after so long and you’re still not used to any affection?” she said, her voice gentle but teasing.

Kakarot’s tail flicked behind him, his body slowly relaxing, his arms remained hovering for a moment before falling back to his sides. “You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbled, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

“Sure I did,” Bulma said, pulling back slightly to look at him, her hands still on his shoulders. “Someone has to remind you that you’re not just a walking ball of rage and muscles.”

Kakarot’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile before he quickly turned his head away, trying to recover his composure. “Whatever,” he muttered. “You’re embarrassing, you still talk too much.”

Bulma smirked, clearly not buying his act. “And you’re still a softie under all that Saiyan bluster.”

Kakarot huffed, but the faintest hint of pink touched his cheeks as he avoided her gaze. For a moment, silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the stunned expressions of Tao and Yamcha. Tao raised an eyebrow, his usual smugness giving way to disbelief, Yamcha, arms crossed, looked between the two like he couldn’t decide if this was real or some elaborate joke. Meanwhile, Roshi’s lips twitched upward, his amusement barely contained, a spark of hope glimmered in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold.

He’d always known there was something good buried deep within Kakarot, and, as it turned out, she was the one to bring it out.

The crowd, which had been holding its collective breath, began murmuring again, the unexpected display leaving them confused yet oddly charmed, Tao rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, while Yamcha let out an incredulous laugh.

Roshi clapped his hands lightly, breaking the spell of the moment as he turned to his group. “Alright, everyone, it’s time for us to sign up,” he said, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the surrounding crowd, his gaze lingered on Yamcha, who remained rooted in place, staring at Kakarot and Bulma with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

“Yamcha,” Roshi said, his tone a mix of amusement and firmness, “that means you too. Stop gawking, I know the girl is pretty, but I already have my eyes on her! And you already have Mai!”

Yamcha snapped out of his daze, his jaw tightening as he muttered, “I’m not gawking!” He shot one last glare in Kakarot’s direction, his rival, his greatest foe, but he’s still a kid, a confusing kid, he stormed off toward the registration area with the rest of the group, thoughts of Kakarot lingering on his mind.

Meanwhile, Kakarot and Bulma appeared completely unaware of the world around them, Bulma’s laugh rang out as Kakarot animatedly recounted his training exploits, his tail flicking behind him like an excitable child’s. “...and then, the guy got two more arms! It was crazy, but still too easy to beat him, I think if I tried, I could do that too.”

“Oh, really?” Bulma teased, placing a hand on her hip. “A four armed Kakarot could kill twice as many people, now that would be terrifying. And here I thought you were slacking off this whole time, or dead somewhere after going with that assassin.”

“Slacking?!” Kakarot exclaimed, his voice rising in offense. “I’ve been training nonstop! You should see how strong I’ve gotten, Bulma, I almost died a bunch of times, Tao is brutal, I hate his guts, but I got my revenge the other day.”

Bulma giggled, shaking her head. “Same old Kakarot, but you know, strength isn’t everything, you’ve got to work on that temper of yours too.”

His grin faltered for a moment as he thought back to the heated exchange with Roshi earlier. “That’s impossible, these humans, are so annoying, they really get on my nerves.”

Bulma’s expression softened. “I know, Kakarot, but maybe if you listened a little more and fought a little less, they might not seem so bad.”

As they continued chatting, Tao stood a few paces away, his arms crossed and his scowl deepening. Watching Kakarot, his prized student, act so casually was a bitter pill to swallow. “Wasting time with trivialities,” he murmured angrily, his tone low enough to be lost in the noise of the crowd. Then, with a sharp turn, he vanished into the shadows of the tournament grounds, disappearing without a trace.

Kakarot, oblivious to his master’s departure, leaned closer to Bulma. “So what about you? What’ve you been up to these past seven months? Did you finish school yet? What about that machine you were working on?”

Bulma’s face lit up, her hands gesturing animatedly as she launched into her own stories about her latest inventions, all the gossip, the latest trends in West city. The two of them became an island unto themselves, their conversation flowing freely as if no time had passed at all. For those brief moments, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Fighters moved in and out of the registration area, their faces tense, their minds focused on the battles ahead, the cheerful energy of the crowd masked the reality that for many of these warriors, this tournament was more than just a competition, it was a test of their limits, their beliefs, and their destinies.

Roshi stood to the side, arms crossed, observing the scene with a quiet intensity, his eyes flicked from Kakarot to Yamcha, then to the others milling about the grounds. Each of them carried their own burdens, their own reasons for fighting, but for his students, well, he looked over at his bag, a gray wig in it, he would teach them a lesson, and maybe, teach Kakarot too.

Yamcha, still simmering with frustration, leaned against a pillar, his arms crossed, his gaze darted toward Kakarot and Bulma, his teeth grinding as he muttered under his breath. “How can he be so carefree? After doing all that back then… I’m going to beat him this time.”

Meanwhile, in the shadows, Tao Pai Pai watched silently from a distance, his eyes burned with a mixture of contempt and calculation, he had seen enough of Kakarot’s strength to know the boy would win, but, could this tournament be what pushes him to surpass Tao’s own strength? He needed to thread carefully with Kakarot.

As the announcer’s voice crackled to life over the loudspeakers, calling the final fighters to register, and make their way for the eliminatory, Kakarot turned to Bulma with a wide grin. “Looks like it’s about to start!” he said, his voice brimming with excitement, his tail swayed behind him as he stretched, his earlier frustration with Roshi now a distant memory.

Bulma smiled back, her voice softer. “Just try not to kill anyone there, okay?”

Kakarot gave her a confident nod. “I will try, I don’t want to get disqualified after all.” But Kakarot’s gaze lingered at the hit he had acquired and at Roshi, one he would kill for the convenience of it, and to appease Tao, the other, he needed to kill.

But as he bounded off to join the other fighters, a weight seemed to settle over the tournament grounds. Behind the grins and bravado, every fighter felt it, as Kakarot approached, his small stature betraying all that he represented, a sense of foreboding and dread following him, that promised that all who faced him, would not leave unchanged.

Chapter Text

The hum of excitement buzzed through the air as the announcer stepped up to the central platform, his voice booming across the tournament grounds. Fighters from all over the world gathered to listen.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Fighters young and old!” the announcer began, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Welcome to the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament! Before we begin, a quick rundown of the eliminatories: Each fighter will draw a number, and through a series of matches, only eight will move on to the quarter-finals! So give it your all!”

The crowd of fighters erupted into cheers, some cracking their knuckles, shadowboxing in anticipation or meditating, others, like Kakarot, stood silently, their focus elsewhere.

In one corner of the arena, Yamcha stood with Krillin and Chi-Chi, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face as he threw a few mock punches. “Man, I’m feeling good about this,” he said, bouncing lightly on his feet. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to show everyone what I’ve got!”

Chi-Chi fidgeted, glancing around at the crowd of strangers. She was still adjusting to the Turtle School gi Roshi had given her, its loose fit and simplicity, feeling strange compared to her usual attire, her fingers brushed over the fabric nervously, and her voice was quieter than usual. “There are so many people here,” she murmured, her wide eyes darting around the bustling tournament grounds. “What if I mess up?”

Krillin, standing with his arms crossed, wasn’t faring much better, his brow furrowed as he watched the fighters around them, sizing up the competition. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” he admitted, his voice low. “Roshi’s training was tough, but… look at these guys! Roshi didn’t teach us to fight! We only spared, and Yamcha, you’re probably the only one of us who stands a chance.”

Yamcha paused mid-stretch and turned to his companions, noticing the nervous energy radiating from both, for a moment, his confident grin softened into something more encouraging.

“Hey,” he said, clapping a hand on the kids’ shoulders. “Cut that out, both of you. Roshi’s training made us all strong, you two just don’t realize how much you’ve grown, we’ve all put in the work, and now it’s time to show it off!”

Krillin looked up at Yamcha, his frown faltering slightly. “But-”

“No buts!” Yamcha interrupted, his tone firm and upbeat. “Look, I’m not gonna lie, this isn’t gonna be easy, but the fact that you’re here, ready to fight, proves you’ve already got guts, you two just need to trust yourselves.”

Chi-Chi blinked up at him, her nervousness easing slightly under his reassuring words, a faint smile tugged at her lips, and she gave a small nod. “Okay.” she said quietly, but with determination flickering in her eyes.

Krillin let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right!” he said, his voice steadier now. “Thanks, Yamcha!”

As the trio’s confidence began to build, Yamcha’s gaze flickered past them, landing on Kakarot in the distance, the young Saiyan stood alone, his tail swaying idly as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd.

Yamcha’s smile faltered for a moment, Kakarot. That kid was the wild card, the one fighter who Yamcha couldn’t stop thinking about, Yamcha was confident in himself, none of these guys looked too though, but Kakarot, he still felt scared and angry just looking at him, Yamcha shook his head, forcing himself to refocus.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to Krillin and Chi-Chi with a smirk. “Let’s go out there and show ‘em what we’re made of.” With their spirits lifted, the trio stepped forward to draw their numbers, now all more confident in themselves.

Kakarot stood off to the side, his arms crossed as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd of fighters, his tail swayed lazily behind him, his expression dark with irritation.

“Tch, all of them are pathetic,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze passing dismissively from one combatant to another. “Weaklings, not a single one here could last a second against me.”

He let out a frustrated growl, his hand twitching toward his ear out of habit. “If only I had my scouter...” he wouldn’t be able to check any power levels here, but he doubted anyone here could match Tao.

His scouter, along with the rest of his gear, was with Bulma, tournament rules forbade their use, and to make matters worse, he was stuck wearing the same ridiculous pink gi Tao had given him, a far cry from his usual combat attire. The loose fit of the uniform grated on his nerves, as did the strange sensation of being unarmored and without his power pole or scouter.

As Kakarot scowled at the lineup, his disdain was suddenly interrupted, as a massive shadow loomed over him, he got angry, wondering who was disturbing him.

“Ha ha ha!” A booming laugh echoed above him, drawing the attention of several nearby fighters.

Kakarot’s tail stilled, and his scowl deepened as he craned his neck upward, standing before him was a towering figure clad in an extra-extra-large Turtle School gi, The uniform was enormous yet it still strained against the man’s gigantic frame, looking almost comical, but there was nothing funny about the raw power and confidence radiating from him.

“The little boy I met in Fire Mountain!” the man bellowed, a broad grin on his face. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? There was no way I would let you get trough this tournament without fighting you!”

Kakarot’s lips twitched into a feral grin, his earlier irritation momentarily forgotten. “Ox-King,” he growled, his tone carrying both familiarity and a spark of excitement. “I was wondering if I’d see you here.”

The Ox-King crossed his arms, his smile widening. “After our last fight, you think I’d miss this? I’ve been waiting for the day we could finish what we started!”

“Hah!” Kakarot scoffed, stepping closer, his grin growing more dangerous. “I hope you’ve been training, otherwise, when I’m done, I’ll-”

“Kill me, right?” the Ox-King interrupted, laughing heartily. “I remember your threats, kid. But you’ll have to work harder than that to take me down! You may have extinguished the fire in my castle, but you lit one in me! I’ve been training hard ever since then.”

Kakarot’s tail twitched behind him, his feral grin unwavering as he eyed the Ox-King. “Good. I’d hate for this to be boring,” he said, his voice low but charged with excitement. “Maybe you won’t go down as fast as the rest of these weaklings.”

Despite the venom in Kakarot’s words, there was a spark of mutual respect between them, and the Ox-King’s good-natured demeanor made it impossible for him to be truly angry, both fighters smirked at each other, their unfinished business hanging in the air.

The Ox-King chuckled, the deep sound rumbling like distant thunder. “Oh, you’ll see, kid. I’ve been waiting to show you what I’ve got, I even learned a little something, you will be surprised to see it.”

“Hah!” Kakarot barked a laugh, stepping back slightly. “We’ll see about that.”

Their smirks lingered as they sized each other up, the unspoken promise of a battle looming over them like a storm on the horizon, around them, other fighters began to whisper, some laughing at the idea of a little kid beefing with that massive man, others sensing the danger emanating from both.

The Ox-King’s grin suddenly shifted into an expression of realization, his eyes widening. “Ah, sorry, kid! I’ll catch you later!” he boomed, turning abruptly, his massive frame moved with surprising speed, causing the ground to quake slightly under his heavy steps as he strode away.

Kakarot blinked, watching the giant hurry toward the turtle-school’s students, the little girl in the group pointed sharply at the Ox-King, her voice too far away to be heard, but her commanding presence was clear. The massive warrior bowed his head slightly under her words, looking almost sheepish, Kakarot tilted his head, his tail curling lazily behind him. “So that girl, is she his daughter?” he muttered to himself, “I wonder if she lives up to his reputation.”

Outside the tournament hall, Bulma hopped up, trying to peek into the high windows. “Oh come on, maybe I can use a stool.” she muttered, her mind buzzed with worry as she tried to see how Kakarot was doing. Please don’t kill anyone, she thought, biting her lip.

A voice beside her drew her attention. “Hmph, look who’s here, that brat probably got knocked out by Yamcha already.”

“Oh, it’s you,” Bulma said, her tone immediately sharp. She remembered Mai all too well, the rough treatment, being taken captive, her irritation flared instantly.

Mai’s expression didn’t soften, in fact, she looked Bulma up and down with thinly veiled disdain. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she said coolly. “Still hanging around with that monster, I see. I guess you don’t mind traveling with a violent maniac.”

Bulma's scowl deepened as Mai's words struck a nerve, but she wasn’t about to back down, her lips curved into a sharp smile, her tone laced with mockery. “You’re really here to cheer on Yamcha? The same guy who got his ass handed to him twice by Kakarot?”

Mai’s face darkened, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “At least Yamcha didn’t murder anyone in cold blood! Or did you forget how Kakarot killed Pilaf without a second thought?”

Bulma rolled her eyes. “Oh, give me a break! Pilaf? Don’t act like you and that sniveling coward didn’t try to kill me and Kakarot first! Maybe Yamcha could take notes from Kakarot, since all he ever does is run away or cheat when things get tough!”

Mai stepped closer, her voice low and cutting. “Don’t talk about him like that! At least he’s got honor, something your little monster wouldn’t know if it hit him in the face.”

Bulma jabbed a finger in Mai’s direction, her voice rising. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy fawning over Yamcha, you’d realize he’s just a washed-up bandit playing pretend! Kakarot’s stronger than he’ll ever be, and you can’t stand it!”

The two women were now glaring daggers at each other, the tension crackling between them like an invisible storm.

“I can’t believe you’d defend a murderer!” Mai snapped, her fists clenched.

“Look who is talking, I can’t believe you are defending a weakling!” Bulma shot back, leaning in closer.

The heated argument came to an abrupt halt as a loud thud shook the ground behind each woman. Both Bulma and Mai froze, their heads whipping around to see two massive pillars embedded deeply into the earth, mere inches from where they stood.

Their stunned expressions quickly turned upward, following the trajectory of the pillars, only to spot the imposing figure of Tao Pai Pai, descending gracefully from above, his arms crossed, and his face twisted into a deep frown.

“Would you two shut up already?” Tao growled, his voice cold and sharp, his gaze shifted past them to the arena window. “You’re disturbing me. If you’re so desperate to watch the fights, climb on top of those pillars, otherwise, I’ll kill you for annoying me, Kakarot be damned.”

The threat hung heavily in the air. “Tch, just like Kakarot,” they muttered at the same time, both rolling their eyes with the same irritated exasperation. Bulma and Mai exchanged quick, incredulous glances before Mai scowled at Bulma, who responded by flipping her off.

Without further complaint, though each shot Tao a lingering glare, they climbed onto the pillars. Balancing atop the stone, they peered through the window to watch the tournament unfold, despite their earlier animosity, their focus now shifted entirely to the spectacle inside, the tension between them cooling for the moment as they muttered under their breaths about Tao’s bad attitude.

Next to them, Tao remained silent, his piercing gaze locked on the fighters below, the deep frown etched on his face betraying his own irritation, not at the girls, but at the weak displays of skill within the ring. For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed on one particular figure, Kakarot, before his lips curved into a faint, humorless smirk.

The eliminatories moved swiftly, with the fighters showing off their skills in bouts that had the crowd roaring. Yamcha breezed through his matches, his confidence growing with each victory, showing off his moves in every fight.

Krillin, while nervous at first, quickly found his footing, though not as flashy as Yamcha, his strength and speed made short work of his competition, earning him more than a few cheers from the spectators.

Chi-Chi’s reserved demeanor melted away the moment her matches began, replaced often by anger at the slightest provocations.

The Ox-King scared any opponents he fought, but the giant was surprisingly gentle with them.

And Kakarot plowed through his opponents with brutal efficiency, his fights often ending in a single blow. His feral grin widened with each match, a specific opponent, a giant and foul man named Bacterian, had displeased Kakarot significantly, resulting in him having his body battered beyond recognition, and having to be rushed to a hospital.

Among the competitors, one older man caught Kakarot’s attention, he looked frail but had the aura of a seasoned fighter, he dispatched his opponents with elegance and minimal effort. Something about him felt oddly familiar to Kakarot.

As the last matches concluded, the announcer’s voice boomed across the grounds. “Ladies and gentlemen, the eliminatories are complete! Fighters, please gather at the platform as we prepare to announce the final matchups!”

The remaining competitors, now the final eight, moved toward the center, the tension in the air was palpable, Kakarot couldn’t help but feel excited, he felt confident that he was stronger than anybody here, but the skill most of these fighters showed, it made his blood boil in anticipation.

The announcer stepped forward with a small white box, a single hole was cut into the top, just big enough for a hand to fit through. “Alright, fighters! To determine the order of matches, you’ll each draw a number from this box. No peeking!”

The fighters approached one by one, each reaching into the box to pull out a small slip of paper. Once everyone had their number, the announcer began to call out the matchups.

“First match: Chi-Chi vs. Krillin!”

Chi-Chi and Krillin exchanged wide grins, stepping closer to each other. “Good luck, Chi-Chi!” Krillin said, holding out a fist.

“You too, Krillin!” Chi-Chi replied, bumping her fist against his. The two were excited to test their skills against one another.

“Second match: Jackie Chun vs. Yamcha!”

Yamcha’s eyes immediately darted to the older man standing across from him. His opponent, Jackie Chun, seemed calm, even serene, Yamcha smirked confidently. He looks tough, but there’s no way I will lose, not before I get to beat Kakarot!

Jackie Chun met Yamcha’s gaze, raising a brow. “That confidence of yours,” he said in a calm yet pointed tone, “might just cost you the battle, son.”

Yamcha’s smirk faltered for a moment before he regained his composure. “We’ll see about that.”

“Third match: Nam vs. Ranfan!”

Nam’s calm demeanor contrasted sharply with Ranfan’s, who leaned casually against the side of the stage, a sultry look in her face as she gazed at her opponent.

The announcer continued. “And for our final match of the quarterfinals: Kakarot vs. the Ox-King!”

Kakarot’s grin stretched across his face as he turned to the massive figure of the Ox-King. “Finally,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “We get to finish what we started.  I just hope that ridiculous gi you’re wearing doesn’t slow you down.”

The Ox-King chuckled deeply, his booming laughter causing a few nearby fighters to flinch. “Ridiculous? It’s comfortable! And what about you, that gi Tao made you wear, you look as if you were father and son.” He placed his hands on his hips, his smile widening. “You’re all bark, kid, I can’t wait to see if your bite’s caught up to it.”

Kakarot smirked, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Don’t worry, old man, by the time I’m done, you’ll be begging for mercy.”

The two locked eyes, both exuding anticipation, the unfinished business between them promising a clash that would shake the arena.

As the announcer wrapped up the introductions, his voice rang out once more. “Fighters, you’ve all seen the brackets, now, go prepare yourselves! The first match will begin shortly!” The fighters dispersed, each heading in their own direction to ready themselves for the upcoming battles, as the announcer went to the arena.

Outside, in the tournament arena, the crowd was already roaring with anticipation, the stands were packed, the energy buzzing as spectators chatted and cheered, Bulma stood alone, in the front, leaning forward slightly, her eyes scanning the stage eagerly, she was waiting to see the fighters emerge, especially Kakarot, as the announcer came in, she was focused as he listed off the order of the matches.

Her focus was interrupted by a sudden commotion beside her. The man standing next to her yelped as he was grabbed by the back of his shirt, gasps rippled through the crowd as the imposing figure of Tao Pai Pai floated effortlessly above, holding the unfortunate man like a piece of luggage “Thank you, but, I will be taking this spot now.”

With a casual flick of his arm, Tao hurled the man over his shoulder, sending him hurtling into the distance, a faint scream echoed before disappearing entirely, leaving the crowd stunned into silence. Tao landed gracefully, and casually clapped his hands together, cleaning non-existent dust from them, as if he had just taken out the trash.

Bulma stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. “What the hell was that all about?!” she demanded, gesturing to the empty space where the man had been.

Tao didn’t bother looking at her, his gaze fixed ahead with an air of authority. “Kakarot seems to like you, for some reason” he said coolly, adjusting his collar. “I need to speak to my pupil between matches, and I want to ensure that I’m close by. Consider it an honor.”

Bulma scoffed, crossing her arms. “Honor? You just killed that guy! You could’ve just asked him to move!”

Tao’s lips curled into a faint smirk, though his eyes remained focused forward. “Asking is for the weak, the strong take what they want.” he added nonchalantly.

Bulma rolled her eyes. “Tch, you’re just as bad as Kakarot.”

Mai and Puar stood nearby, also near the edge of the tournament arena, Mai glanced over at the crowd behind her. “Roshi’s pupils are all in the first matches,” she said, her tone clipped with irritation. “And he’s gone and run off again, do you have any idea where he is, Puar?”

The little blue cat fluttered nervously in the air beside her, his ears drooping. “No idea,” Puar admitted, his voice tinged with worry. “He said something about needing to… go to the bathroom.”

Mai raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “What an excuse.” She glanced at the arena's bustling crowd. “He’s probably out there harassing some girls, typical.”

Her thoughts were interrupted, as the crowd’s attention shifted toward the announcer stepping back onto the stage. The first match was about to begin.

Chi-Chi and Krillin stepped onto the stage, their faces alight with determination and excitement. The crowd erupted into cheers, standing opposite each other, Chi-Chi and Krillin exchanged wide smiles.

The announcer stepped forward, raising his microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he called, his voice booming. “Our first match of the quarterfinals begins now! Facing off are two of the youngest competitors in the history of this tournament, students of the famed Turtle School!”

The crowd’s cheers grew even louder at the mention of the Turtle School, though some whispers and cackles in regard to their age could be heard, but the announcer continued. “Don’t let their size fool you, folks! These two have already proven themselves to be fighters of remarkable skill and strength. Let’s hear it for Chi-Chi and Krillin!”

The fighters took their stances as the announcer stepped back. The tension in the air was electric, and all eyes were on the two young martial artists as they prepared to begin their match. The gong rang out, signaling the start of the fight.

The gong’s echo had barely faded before Chi-Chi and Krillin dashed at each other, their movements a blur to most in the audience, their fists collided with a thunderous clap, sending a gust of wind rippling through the arena. The crowd roared in approval, leaning forward as the battle began.

Chi-Chi struck first, her left fist darting toward Krillin’s ribs, he twisted his body at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the hit, and retaliated with a sweeping kick aimed at her legs. Chi-Chi leaped over the attack gracefully, flipping mid-air and landing lightly on her feet.

“Not bad,” she said, smirking.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Krillin shot back with a grin, dashing forward again.

The two exchanged rapid blows, their fists and feet moving faster than most could follow, Krillin threw a series of punches, each one aimed with precision, but Chi-Chi blocked them all, and retaliated with a sharp roundhouse kick, forcing Krillin to duck, seizing the opening, she aimed a palm strike at his chest, but Krillin countered by dodging and grabbing her wrist.

With a powerful tug, Krillin tried to throw Chi-Chi off balance, but she planted her feet firmly, resisting the pull, using her other hand, she yanked Krillin forward, sending him stumbling towards her, Chi-Chi used the momentum to spin and deliver an elbow strike aimed at his shoulder, but Krillin managed to block it with his forearm, though the force of the impact pushed him back a step.

Both fighters jumped apart, breathing heavily but smiling, the crowd’s cheers grew louder, the intensity of the duel captivating everyone in the stands. Tao watched with a bored expression however. “If this is the best the Turtle School has to offer, then Kakarot is going to breeze through this.”

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Chi-Chi admitted, her stance tightening as she prepared for the next exchange.

“You too,” Krillin replied, wiping sweat from his brow. “But don’t think I’ll go easy just because we’re friends.”

Chi-Chi didn’t answer, she launched forward instead, her fists a blur as she delivered a flurry of punches, Krillin blocking each strike with precise movements, when she aimed a high kick at his head, he ducked low and swept at her legs, Chi-Chi leaped back just in time, narrowly avoiding the attack.

“You’re fast,” Krillin said, grinning, as he lunged forward, he spun into a powerful kick aimed at her torso, but Chi-Chi caught his ankle, twisting it just enough to throw off his balance, but before she could follow up, Krillin planted his hands on the ground and kicked upward with his free leg, forcing her to let go and leap away.

They circled each other, their breaths coming in sharp gasps but their eyes never leaving the other, the crowd cheered louder with every exchange, enthralled by the display of skill and heart on the stage. Neither Chi-Chi nor Krillin showed any signs of giving up, each determined to outlast the other and prove their strength, but they seemed complete equals in strength.

Krillin feigned a punch, then twisted into a spinning kick aimed at Chi-Chi’s shoulder, she ducked low, using the momentum to sweep at his legs again, this time, her foot connected, and Krillin was sent sprawling to the ground, but he rolled back to his feet instantly, leaping away from her follow-up strike.

Krillin attempted to break the tension with a comment, his words slipping out as he blocked another of Chi-Chi’s strikes. “You’re really good, for a girl, Chi-Chi”

The words hung in the air like a bomb.

Chi-Chi froze mid-strike, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “For a girl?” she repeated, her voice low and trembling with anger.

Krillin immediately realized his mistake. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that! I-”

“You think I’m weak because I’m a girl?!” Chi-Chi shouted, her voice rising above the crowd’s cheers, her body practically vibrated with fury, and the air around her seemed to grow heavier.

Krillin backpedaled, waving his hands in defense. “No! That’s not what I-”

“I’LL SHOW YOU HOW STRONG A GIRL CAN BE!” Chi-Chi roared, launching herself at him with renewed vigor, her strikes came faster and harder than before, each one carrying the full weight of her anger.

Krillin barely managed to block the first few blows, his arms aching under the sheer force. “Chi-Chi, wait, I didn’t-ow!” He stumbled as a particularly powerful kick connected with his side, sending him skidding backward.

Chi-Chi didn’t let up. “I’LL SHOW YOU EXACTLY WHAT THIS GIRL CAN DO!” she screamed, her voice fueled by unrelenting rage, her attacks became a whirlwind of punches and kicks, each strike pushing Krillin further onto the defensive.

“Okay, I get it! You’re strong! Really strong!” Krillin yelped, ducking under a high kick only to be met with a palm strike to his chest that sent him staggering.

But Chi-Chi wasn’t listening, her fury had ignited a fire within her, and she was determined to prove her strength. “You’re going down, Krillin!” she bellowed, closing the distance between them in an instant.

Krillin tried to counter with a punch, but Chi-Chi deflected it with ease, spinning into a powerful roundhouse kick that slammed into his side, the force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he fell to one knee, gasping for air.

Krillin struggled to his feet, but before he could fully recover, Chi-Chi was already upon him. She delivered a final, devastating punch to his chest, her scream of anger echoing through the arena. “THIS IS WHAT A GIRL CAN DO!”

The impact sent Krillin flying backward, he hit the ground hard and didn’t get up, his body sprawled out as the announcer rushed over to check on him.

Chi-Chi stood in the center of the stage, breathing heavily and glaring at her fallen opponent, the crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement for the fierce fight reaching a fever pitch.

“Krillin is knocked out! The winner is… Chi-Chi!” the announcer declared, raising Chi-Chi’s hand in victory.

Chi-Chi’s fiery expression softened almost immediately as she gazed at Krillin, her anger dissipated, replaced by concern as she hurried to his side, kneeling down, she called out, “Oh no! Krillin! Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

She was cut off as Krillin stirred, groaning softly as he sat up, he waved a hand dismissively, offering her a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it, Chi-Chi, you won fair and square. I just… talked too much.”

Struggling to his feet, Krillin extended his hand toward her, his proud grin beaming through the soreness. Chi-Chi returned the smile, and shook his hand, then pulled him into a hug as the two laughed, both commemorating her victory.

“You see that folks! This is true camaraderie from these turtle school students!” the announcer said, looking on at the two’s display of friendship. “If only all fighters were this respectful.” He muttered away from the mic.

Outside the ring, reactions poured in.

Yamcha leaned against the wall, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Those two, their bond has really grown, they’ve really come a long way.” he muttered, nodding approvingly.

Jackie Chun, watching quietly from the sidelines, folded his arms with a proud smile, clearly satisfied with his students’ growth.

The Ox-King erupted into a booming laugh that turned heads around him. “That’s my daughter!” he bellowed, clapping loudly, as Chi-Chi made her way back, he wrapped her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet in celebration.

Meanwhile, Kakarot stood with arms crossed, his lips curled into a slight sneer as he observed the scene. “Tch, how pathetic,” he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. “She should’ve knocked him back down, instead of wasting time with all that hugging.”

Yamcha turned toward him, his expression hardening, he pointed toward the ring. “That, Kakarot, was camaraderie, friendship.” His voice firm. “It’s what makes us stronger, and it’s what you lack.”

Kakarot’s eyes narrowed as he shot Yamcha a cold glare, but the former bandit didn’t flinch, meeting Kakarot with unyielding determination, the tension hung in the air for a moment before Kakarot scoffed and looked away, the roar of the crowd drowning out any further remarks.

The announcer, still energized from the previous match, stepped forward with his microphone. "What an exciting match, folks! These young fighters are truly incredible!" His voice echoed through the arena as the crowd roared in agreement.

“And now, let’s keep the excitement going! Fighters, come forward for the next match!”

Yamcha straightened up, readying himself to step forward, but Kakarot’s voice rang out behind him. “Show me how strong that ‘friendship’ made you then, if it’s anything like those pathetic weaklings from before, I think I might just kill you off for good next time we meet.” Kakarot said with a mocking smirk, his tone dripping with derision.

Yamcha paused, his fists clenching, he didn’t turn to look back, refusing to give Kakarot the satisfaction of a response, but the jab hit its mark, Yamcha’s scowl deepened as he stormed toward the ring, his thoughts swirled, all focused on proving himself, on winning this fight, and, ultimately, defeating Kakarot.

The crowd murmured as Yamcha climbed into the ring, his frown making his resolve clear. On the other side, Jackie Chun entered with a calm, measured stride, the contrast between the two fighters stark.

“Go, Yamcha!” Mai’s enthusiastic cheer rang out, cutting through the roaring crowd, a wide grin plastered in her face, her hands cupped around her mouth to amplify the sound.

Puar, floating nervously beside her, wasn’t quite as confident, the small, shapeshifting cat narrowed his eyes, observing Yamcha as he stood in the ring. “Hey, Mai,” Puar said hesitantly, his voice barely audible above the commotion. “Doesn’t Yamcha look… a little off to you?”

Mai lowered her hands, her expression shifting as she focused on her boyfriend, Yamcha’s usual composure seemed to have slipped, replaced by a tension that bordered on rage, his clenched fists and furrowed brow painted a picture of someone who wasn’t entirely in control.

Mai frowned, her earlier excitement waning. “He… he does look a little angry,” she admitted reluctantly, her brows furrowed further, her voice dropping into a growl. “That bastard Kakarot must’ve done something to get in his head.”

The two looked on, their worry growing as Yamcha’s energy seemed to radiate more aggression than focus, while Mai’s gaze hardened in determination to see him succeed, Puar bit his lip, silently hoping that his best friend would shake it off before it cost him the match.

Back on the ring, the announcer stepped between the two fighters, his voice booming once more. “Ladies and gentlemen, we now begin the second fight of the quarterfinals! In one corner, we have Yamcha, the second-oldest student of the Turtle School, a master of the Wolf Fang Fist style, and a reformed bandit seeking redemption through martial arts!” The crowd cheered loudly as Yamcha nodded, though his mind was elsewhere, laser-focused, on his future match with Kakarot.

“And in the other corner, we have Jackie Chun! A mysterious older gentleman who has already proven to be a warrior of tremendous skill and strength, his experience unmatched among today’s competitors!”

Jackie Chun enthusiastically cheered back at the crowd, waving peace signs back and sending kisses to some of the ladies, as some of the members of the crowd booed at him for his demeanor and his looks.

The announcer stepped back, signaling the start of the fight. "And now, both fighters ready…” The crowd erupted into cheers again, as the fighters assumed their stances, the air charged with anticipation for what was sure to be a fierce and dramatic showdown. “Begin!” The gong rang out again.

Yet, to the crowd’s surprise, neither fighter moved immediately, Jackie Chun maintained a relaxed, almost nonchalant stance, his hands loosely positioned by his sides. Yamcha frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge the older man’s intent. Why isn’t he even guarding? he wondered, his irritation growing.

Yamcha’s patience quickly wore thin, with a growl of frustration, he lunged forward, determined to wipe the calm expression off the old man’s face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to play around!” he shouted, driving a powerful fist toward Jackie Chun’s chest.

But before his attack could land, Jackie Chun’s form blurred, Yamcha’s eyes widened in shock as his opponent seemed to vanish entirely from sight. “What?!” he gasped, skidding to a halt.

A faint breeze brushed against the back of his neck, and instinctively, Yamcha ducked. Jackie Chun’s foot swept through the space where his head had just been, the force of the missed kick stirring the air around them, Yamcha twisted around, his face a mixture of relief and rising frustration as he locked eyes with his opponent again, now standing a few feet away.

“Too slow,” Jackie Chun said evenly, his calm demeanor unshaken, his voice carried just enough condescension to ignite Yamcha’s temper further.

Jackie Chun stood with his arms still at his sides, still not even raising a guard. “You’re faster than you look,” Yamcha said, forcing a grin to mask his unease. “But don’t think I’ll fall for that again.”

The old man tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied, his tone polite yet subtly challenging. “But if you keep rushing in without thinking, you might find yourself on the ground sooner than you expect.”

Yamcha bristled. “You think I’m just rushing in?!” His voice rose slightly, the calm exterior he had been trying to maintain slipping away. “I’ve trained harder than ever for this tournament, for that match, don’t underestimate me!”

He launched forward again, his movements sharp and deliberate as he aimed a flurry of strikes at Jackie Chun, this time, Yamcha wasn’t holding anything back, his speed and power fully on display, the crowd gasped as he unleashed his rapid attacks, his form a blur of motion.

Yet, Jackie Chun evaded each strike effortlessly, with a series of subtle steps and slight shifts of his body, he avoided Yamcha’s blows as though he were anticipating every move.

Yamcha growled in frustration as his fists met only empty air. “Stand still, would you?!” he snapped, his patience fraying.

Jackie Chun finally raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Why would I do that? I’m not foolish enough to take unnecessary hits.”

The comment made Yamcha’s teeth clench, but he forced himself to stay calm. He’s just trying to rile me up. I can beat him, I just have to stay focused.

But as he adjusted his stance, Jackie Chun struck, with lightning speed, the old man swept low, aiming a kick at Yamcha’s legs, Yamcha barely managed to leap back in time, avoiding the attack by inches, but the sudden counter left him momentarily off-balance. Jackie Chun didn’t press the attack, instead returning to his relaxed stance.

“Not bad,” Jackie Chun said lightly. “But your movements are too stiff, you’re letting your emotions control you.”

The words stung more than Yamcha cared to admit. He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling within him. He’s not wrong, but I can’t let him get in my head. I have to focus, this is just another fight.

Still, the image of Kakarot’s smug face flashed in his mind, fueling his impatience, winning wasn’t enough, he had to prove that his strength was superior, that he could overcome anyone standing in his way, old man or not.

Yamcha narrowed his eyes, his frustration now channeled into a determined focus, he shifted his stance slightly, watching Jackie Chun's every move. "If dodging is your game, let’s see how long you can keep it up!" he muttered under his breath.

This time, Yamcha launched forward with renewed vigor, his movements more calculated than before, he opened with a rapid jab aimed at Jackie’s left side, but the old master leaned back, dodging it with ease, anticipating this, Yamcha pivoted sharply mid-strike, turning the feint into a powerful kick aimed at Jackie’s midsection.

Jackie Chun's eyes widened briefly in surprise as he barely managed to block the kick with his forearm, the impact sent him skidding back a few feet, and the crowd erupted in cheers, sensing a shift in the momentum.

"Gotcha!" Yamcha grinned, pressing his advantage. Without giving Jackie a moment to recover, he followed up with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks, Jackie Chun moved swiftly, his arms and legs blurring as he blocked and deflected most of the strikes, but even he couldn’t avoid them all. A well-placed hook grazed his cheek, followed by a sharp knee to his side that made him stagger.

Jackie grunted, his calm demeanor faltering for the first time, as he adjusted to Yamcha's speed and aggression, however, Yamcha wasn't letting up, he feinted another punch, causing Jackie to shift his weight to block, only for Yamcha to spin into a sweeping kick aimed at Jackie’s legs, the old master leaped to avoid it, but Yamcha was ready, launching himself into the air with a flying kick that clipped Jackie’s shoulder and sent him stumbling backward.

The crowd gasped at the exchange, the cheers growing louder, Mai’s voice pierced through the noise. “Go, Yamcha! You’ve got him now!”

Back in the ring, Yamcha landed smoothly, his stance low and ready to strike again, Jackie Chun was still on his feet but visibly more defensive now, his movements less fluid than before. Yamcha pressed forward, throwing another series of rapid strikes, this time, Jackie managed to block most of them, but the force of Yamcha’s attacks was undeniable, and he was gradually being pushed closer to the edge of the ring.

“Looks like youth and strength are starting to overwhelm experience, folks!” the announcer exclaimed, the excitement in his voice palpable. “Yamcha is relentless, and Jackie Chun is running out of room to maneuver!”

Jackie’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he studied Yamcha’s movements carefully, despite the relentless assault, a flicker of amusement crossed his face. “You’re strong, stronger than me, I’ll admit that,” he said, his voice steady even as he blocked another powerful punch. “But you’re relying too much on brute force, that impatience of yours… it’s your biggest weakness.”

“Enough with the lectures!” Yamcha snapped, his irritation flaring again. “I need to win this, and you just keep running instead of fighting back!”

Jackie didn’t respond, but his stance shifted ever so slightly, Yamcha, blinded by his determination to win, didn’t notice, all he could see was his chance to overpower the old man, and nothing would stop him now.

But everyone got quite confused, as Jackie Chun suddenly staggered, his movements becoming erratic and unbalanced, his cheeks flushed a deep red, and he let out a loud, exaggerated hiccup, wobbling side to side as though he were completely wasted.

The announcer leaned forward, squinting at the spectacle. “Uh… ladies and gentlemen, is it just me, or does Jackie Chun look like he’s… drunk? Surely he didn’t have a drink before this match, right?”

Yamcha’s brow furrowed deeply as he watched Jackie’s antics. “What is this? Are you mocking me?!” he shouted, his frustration boiling over. The old man’s behavior felt like a direct insult, not only to him but to the entire tournament. "This is supposed to be a serious match!"

Jackie Chun stumbled forward, narrowly avoiding tripping over his own feet, or so it seemed, he let out a hiccup, swaying dangerously close to Yamcha. "S-Serious? Oh, I’m serious, boy… seriously having fun!" he said, cackling like a madman.

Yamcha’s scowl deepened, his fists trembling with restrained anger. “Enough of this nonsense!” With a burst of speed, he launched himself at Jackie, aiming a powerful punch straight at the old man’s chest.

But just as Yamcha’s fist was about to connect, Jackie Chun swayed sideways with the grace of a falling leaf, the strike missing him by mere inches, and before Yamcha could recover, Jackie’s knee shot up like lightning, slamming into his stomach with pinpoint accuracy.

“Guh!” Yamcha gasped, doubling over as the air was forced from his lungs, the crowd erupted in shock at the sudden reversal.

Jackie Chun staggered back, laughing and spinning like he was at a festival. “Oops! Did I do that? My bad!” he said, hiccuping again, his unpredictable movements made it impossible to tell where his next strike would come from, or if he even meant to strike at all.

Yamcha gritted his teeth, straightening up despite the pain in his abdomen. “What… what is this fighting style?” he muttered, his anger now mixed with confusion and wariness.

Jackie Chun smirked, his eyes twinkling despite his drunken façade. “This, my boy, is the Drunken Fist technique! Looks silly, doesn’t it? But it’s effective!”

True to his words, Jackie Chun lunged forward in a series of bizarre, unorthodox movements, spinning, staggering, and even dropping low to the ground as if he were about to fall, each motion seemed random, yet each strike was deliberate and devastating. Yamcha struggled to defend himself, but Jackie’s unpredictability left him vulnerable, hit after hit, a swift elbow to the side, a spinning kick to his thigh, and a sharp palm strike to his shoulder, all left Yamcha reeling.

The announcer’s voice boomed over the astonished crowd. “Incredible! Jackie Chun has turned this fight around completely! What an unexpected technique!”

Mai and Puar watched from the sidelines, their expressions frozen in shock. “I’ve never seen anything like this!” Mai said, gripping the edge of the walls. “What’s Yamcha supposed to do against that?!”

Puar whimpered. “Come on, Yamcha… you can figure it out!”

In the ring, Yamcha growled, his frustration mounting as Jackie Chun continued to dance circles around him, landing blow after blow while avoiding his retaliations with uncanny ease. “Stop messing around and fight me seriously!” Yamcha shouted, lunging forward with a furious kick.

Jackie Chun dodged effortlessly, his swaying motion making it look like Yamcha was aiming at empty air. "Oh, but I am serious," Jackie teased, twirling away and landing another knee strike to Yamcha’s ribs. “Maybe you just need to… loosen up a little! Hic!”

Jackie Chun landed a quick strike on Yamcha’s shoulder, sending him skidding backward across the stage, the old master’s staggered, drunken movements seemed as random as ever, but Yamcha’s scowl deepened as he planted his feet firmly on the ground, finally creating some distance between them.

Jackie Chun's playful smirk grew as he watched Yamcha stagger back, putting distance between them, the younger fighter's face, once full of frustration, was now set with grim determination. Jackie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Is he going to unleash that?” He muttered under his breath.

Yamcha wiped the sweat from his brow and took a deep breath, his hands curling into claws as he assumed a low, wide stance, his feet shifted subtly, his entire body exuding an aura of predatory focus. "You’ve had your fun, old man," Yamcha growled. "Now it’s time I showed you why I’m not someone to take lightly."

From the sidelines, Puar gasped, recognizing the stance immediately. “He’s using the Wolf Fang Fist!”

Mai clenched her fists, her voice rising above the crowd. “Get him, Yamcha! Show him what you’ve got!”

The announcer’s voice boomed across the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen, it seems Yamcha is preparing his signature technique! Will it be enough to turn the tide against the unpredictable Jackie Chun?”

With a sudden burst of energy, Yamcha sprang forward, his speed blinding, he closed the gap between them in an instant, his strikes exploding like rapid-fire. “Wolf Fang Fist!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the arena.

Jackie Chun barely had time to react, Yamcha’s movements were wild yet precise, each strike flowing seamlessly into the next like a predator’s relentless pursuit of its prey, clawing swipes aimed for Jackie’s chest, sweeping kicks targeted his legs, and a barrage of punches struck at his torso and arms.

The old master dodged and parried as best he could, but Yamcha’s speed was overwhelming, a clawed strike grazed Jackie’s cheek, and another landed solidly on his shoulder, forcing him to step back, the crowd erupted in cheers, amazed by the sheer ferocity and grace of Yamcha’s technique.

"Not bad!" Jackie muttered as he narrowly avoided a kick aimed at his head, he tried to counter with a swift palm strike, but Yamcha was already spinning out of the way, landing a crushing elbow to Jackie’s ribs. The older fighter winced, the blow forcing him to retreat further.

Yamcha pressed his advantage, his strikes growing faster and more relentless, his movements mimicked a wolf’s feral hunt, lunging, feinting, and darting around Jackie with untamed energy, Jackie Chun found himself on the defensive again, each of Yamcha’s attacks coming closer and closer to breaking through his guard.

“This is it!” Yamcha thought, his confidence surging as he saw Jackie falter under the onslaught, with a ferocious roar, he launched a final flurry of strikes, his claws aiming to knock Jackie Chun out of the ring.

But Jackie Chun, despite being pressed to his limits, suddenly smiled. “It’s not over yet, boy” he said calmly, sidestepping at the last possible moment.

Yamcha’s final strike missed by a hair’s breadth, and Jackie countered with a well-timed sweep kick, Yamcha stumbled, nearly falling over the edge, but quickly recovered, spinning back into his stance, the two fighters stood apart again, breathing heavily as the crowd roared its approval.

Jackie Chun straightened up, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. “You’ve perfected that technique, Yamcha. It’s fast, precise, and powerful, nothing like it used to be. But…” He smirked, his tone teasing yet full of respect. “I’ve also got some tricks of my own to show.”

Yamcha, still breathing heavily from the intensity of the fight, couldn't shake the irritation rising in him, his brow furrowed, and his voice came out sharper than he intended. "If you’re so confident, old man, then stop preaching and show me your tricks, let’s end this match already.”

Jackie Chun chuckled softly but with an edge of seriousness. "Oh, I will, boy. But first, let me share something, your anger, your impatience, it’s your greatest weakness. You sound an awful lot like that other boy, Kakarot. You’ve let him live rent-free in your head, haven’t you.”

Yamcha growled low in his throat, his irritation flaring. "Don’t compare me to him!" he snapped, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes as Jackie’s words struck a nerve. Yamcha knew deep down there was some truth to the old man's observation, but his pride wouldn’t let him acknowledge it.

Jackie Chun’s expression turned slightly more serious. “Suit yourself, but mark my words, your anger towards Kakarot will cloud your judgment. Don’t let it rule you, or it’ll be your downfall.”

Yamcha frowned harder, the words kept hitting him harder than any punch the old man could deliver, but also, some confusion flared up. “How do you even know so much about me anyway?” Yamcha narrowed his eyes, but dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. “Let’s just get on with it, show me that technique of yours then.”

With a knowing sigh, Jackie Chun straightened his posture, stepping into a familiar stance, Yamcha’s eyes widened in recognition, his opponent’s hands moved into position, cupped together at his side, fingers spread and angled just so, the energy in the arena shifted as a faint glow began to emanate from Jackie’s palms.

“That stance…” Yamcha murmured, his voice laced with both anticipation and unease, he knew it all too well. “The Kamehameha? But how?”

Jackie Chun smirked, the energy in his hands intensifying. “That’s right. You know it too don’t you? If you’re so confident in your strength, let’s clash right here and now, the better one wins, to challenge Kakarot.” Jackie riled up Yamcha, every word delivered with a reason.

The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps as they recognized the iconic move, even Puar and Mai watched in awe, their previous worry momentarily replaced by amazement.

"What? Jackie Chun knows the Kamehameha?" Mai exclaimed.

"But Yamcha knows it too! And there’s no way he’s going to lose!” Puar replied back.

The arena fell silent for a moment as Yamcha's scowl deepened, his muscles tensed, his jaw clenched, and a faint tremor of energy began to pulse around him. Jackie Chun's knowing smirk only fueled the fire within him.

"Fine," Yamcha growled, stepping back into a wide stance, his hands moved to his side, mirroring Jackie Chun's precise form. "I will prove my strength, just don’t come crying when you lose.”

The crowd roared as Yamcha's voice joined Jackie Chun's, both fighters chanting in unison.
"Ka...me...ha...me...!"

Sparks of energy erupted from their palms, blue light cascading in rippling waves across the ring, dust kicked up around their feet as their power surged, filling the air with a palpable charge. Jackie Chun’s aura remained steady, controlled, and deliberate, while Yamcha’s flared wildly, his anger pouring recklessly into his attack.

From the sidelines, Puar and Mai stared, their expressions a mixture of awe and trepidation. "He’s putting everything into this, I’m sure he will win." Puar murmured, his small paws clenched together.

The blasts collided in midair with an earth-shaking explosion, the shockwave rippling through the stands, the ring beneath them cracked and groaned under the sheer force, tiles shattering like glass.

Yamcha gritted his teeth, his arms shaking violently as he pushed against Jackie Chun’s energy, his mind screamed with frustration, the image of Kakarot’s smug grin flashing before him.

“I’m not like him!” Yamcha shouted, though his voice was drowned out by the thunderous clash of energy. “I’ll prove I’m stronger! I’ll show everyone!”

Yamcha's blast, fueled by his anger and determination, began to edge forward, the light from the clash growing blinding, for a moment, it seemed as if Yamcha had the upper hand.

Jackie Chun’s feet slid slightly on the cracked tiles, his arms trembling as he braced against the relentless force of Yamcha’s attack, but even as sweat beaded on his forehead, his expression remained calm, almost smug.

Yamcha snarled, his confidence swelling. “I’ve got you now, old man! You can’t keep up with me!”

But Jackie Chun didn’t flinch, instead, his lips curled into a faint smirk. “Oh, is that so?”

Then it happened, Jackie Chun’s body erupted with a sudden, explosive surge of energy, he roared, the sound reverberating like thunder as his form began to shift, his muscles swelled, bulging grotesquely as they ripped through his shirt, shredding it to tatters, his frame expanded, his size more than doubling in a matter of moments. The audience gasped in shock as the calm, small old man transformed into a towering, hulking figure.

“What the?!” Yamcha stammered, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Jackie Chun, now in his Max-Power form, let out a booming laugh. “You’ve got spirit, boy, but you’re acting recklessly! I’ve been leading you into this trap all along!”

With a sudden surge of strength, Jackie Chun poured everything into his Kamehameha, the beam flared with an intense brilliance, growing wider and more forceful, Yamcha’s blast, once on the verge of overwhelming him, began to falter under the onslaught of Chun’s power.

“No! No way!” Yamcha roared, his voice filled with desperation, he dug his heels into the cracked tiles, his arms trembling as he fought to push back against the overwhelming energy.

The crowd was on their feet, screaming in awe and disbelief as Jackie Chun’s beam surged forward, swallowing Yamcha’s attack inch by inch, the sheer force of the energy whipped up a violent wind, sending tiles and debris flying across the arena.

“You let your emotions rule you, Yamcha!” Jackie Chun bellowed, his voice carrying over the chaos. “You’re strong, but strength alone doesn’t win battles! Learn to control your anger and your arrogance, or it will always be your undoing!”

But Yamcha was deaf to the wisdom, his mind consumed by the fiery storm of his emotions. Amid the chaos, flashes of Kakarot’s face burned in his mind, his rival’s ruthless smirk, his overwhelming power, and the humiliation Yamcha had endured at his hands. Memories of his friends injured, Pilaf dead, Kakarot’s condescending laughter, and the threat that the alien warrior posed to Earth stoke a volcano within Yamcha.

“No!” Yamcha bellowed, his voice trembling with fury. “I can’t lose! I won’t let him win! Kakarot can’t get away with what he’s done, to me, to my friends, he’s a threat to this planet!”

The energy around Yamcha surged violently, his determination igniting like a volcano. With a ground-shaking roar, Yamcha dug deeper, breaking past his limits, his Kamehameha, reignited by raw willpower, blazed brighter than ever, overpowering Jackie Chun’s beam and surging toward the older fighter at increasing speeds.

Jackie Chun’s eyes widened, a flicker of admiration crossing his face as he struggled to maintain his ground. Incredible, Yamcha, your resolve is truly something else, I’m proud of you, but I can’t let you go on like this, not with this anger blinding you.

The force of Yamcha’s blast exploded forward, pushing Jackie Chun back, his bulging muscles straining against the overwhelming tide of energy, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers, as they witnessed the impossible, Yamcha overpowering Jackie Chun once again.

But Jackie’s smirk returned, faint but knowing. “Perfect,” he muttered under his breath.

As Yamcha poured everything into his attack, his footing began to falter, the force of his own energy, combined with Jackie’s resistance, pushed him back, bit by bit, Yamcha didn’t notice, his focus entirely on overpowering his opponent, his fierce determination to defeat Jackie Chun, and by extension, Kakarot, blinded him to the danger beneath his feet.

The tiles beneath Yamcha’s heels crumbled as he slipped, his eyes darted down in sudden realization, panic flashing across his face. “No, NO!” he roared, but it was too late.

With a final surge of energy from Jackie Chun’s side, the force of the blasts sent Yamcha sliding backward off the edge of the ring, time seemed to slow down as his feet left the platform, his body falling to the ground and outside the bounds of the arena.

The crowd gasped collectively, Mai and Puar almost leaping over, the cheers giving way to stunned silence, the energy dissipated, the beams vanishing in a final crackle of light as Jackie Chun stood victorious in the shattered arena, his breath heavy but controlled, as he deflated back to his usual size.

Yamcha hit the ground hard, the impact jolting him back to his senses, he stared up at the ring in disbelief, the realization of his loss sinking in, his fists clenched against the dirt as frustration and anger boiled within him, but there was no undoing it.

Jackie Chun stepped to the edge of the ring, looking down at Yamcha with a mixture of respect and sternness. “You’re strong, Yamcha,” he said, his voice carrying over the hushed crowd. “But strength without control is like fire without a purpose, It burns everything in its path, and as you just saw, it burns you too.”

Yamcha gritted his teeth, his pride bruised and his emotions raw, he remained laying down on the ground, covered his face and looked away, unable to meet his foe’s gaze, tears streaming down his face, he had lost, again, and now, he wouldn’t even be able to face Kakarot here.

The announcer’s voice broke through the tension, “Yamcha is out of bounds! The wines is, Jackie Chun!” but Yamcha barely registered it, all he could think about was how close he had come, and how his anger had cost him everything.

The announcer and the crowd’s cheers were silenced in Jackie’s mind, as he landed gracefully outside the ring, his presence immediately drawing Yamcha’s attention, kneeling down beside the defeated fighter, Jackie placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “Yamcha,” he began, his voice low but firm. “You listen to me, boy, you’re stronger than you think.”

Yamcha’s fists clenched tighter against the dirt. “What’s the point of being strong if I can’t win? If I can’t stop him?”

Jackie shook his head. “You’re too focused on the wrong battle, yes, Kakarot is strong, maybe stronger than anyone you’ve faced before, but don’t let his strength blind you to your own. Look at what you just did.” He gestured toward the arena, the shattered tiles and cracks in the ground a testament to the power Yamcha had displayed.

Yamcha’s tear-streaked face turned slightly, just enough to glimpse the devastation he’d caused.

“You pushed me to my limits,” Jackie continued. “You broke through your own. That power you showed, that, was incredible, and that, wasn’t because of Kakarot. That was because of you. You proved to this crowd, to me, to Kakarot and even to yourself, that you’re a fighter to be reckoned with.”

The words seemed to pierce through the fog of Yamcha’s despair, his hands slowly dropped from his face, his tear-filled eyes locking onto Jackie’s.

“But you’re letting this obsession with Kakarot consume you,” Jackie went on, his tone softening. “You want to defeat him so badly, you’ve forgotten why you fight in the first place, it’s not just about him, it’s about you, it’s about the people you care for, your friends, your loved ones, fight to protect them, fight to grow stronger for yourself, not just to settle some grudge.”

Yamcha’s breathing steadied, though his face remained etched with pain. “But... I… I need to defeat him, you don’t know him he’s-”

Jackie’s expression grew stern, he cut in before Yamcha could finish, though his voice remained gentle. “The point is, that fighting isn’t just about winning or losing, it’s about learning, growing, and becoming better. I know Kakarot is strong, and that he really is a threat, but you have the strength to defeat him one day, Yamcha. You’ve already shown it, but if you let anger and bitterness rule you, you’ll never see your full potential. You’ll burn yourself out before you ever reach it.”

For a moment, Yamcha said nothing, the weight of Jackie’s words settling over him, slowly, he sat up, his hands dropping to his sides, his gaze, though still filled with frustration, carried a flicker of something else, understanding.

“You really think... I’m strong enough?” Yamcha asked, his voice quieter, hesitant.

Jackie Chun smiled faintly. “I don’t just think it, I know it, you’re strong enough to stand toe-to-toe with the best, Yamcha, just as you did now. You just need to focus that strength on the right goals, don’t fight just to stop Kakarot, fight for yourself, fight for your friends, fight because you’re a fighter, and that’s what fighters do.”

The words hung in the air, their impact undeniable, Yamcha stared at Jackie, then at the ring, the fragments of shattered tiles glinting in the sunlight, his heart still ached with the sting of defeat, but, a small ember of hope began to burn alongside the pain.

Jackie stood, offering Yamcha a hand. “Now, get up. This isn’t the end for you, it’s just the beginning.”

Hesitating for only a moment, Yamcha reached out and grasped Jackie’s hand, as the older fighter pulled him to his feet, the crowd erupted into cheers once more, their admiration for both warriors filling the air.

Yamcha wiped the tears from his face and straightened his posture, he wasn’t sure what lay ahead, but Jackie Chun’s words had lit a path forward, one not defined by anger or vengeance, but by a new purpose.

As Yamcha steadied himself, brushing off the weight of defeat and Jackie Chun’s words still resonating in his mind, he was caught off guard by a sudden blur rushing toward him. Before he could react, Mai and Puar both threw their arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, Mai’s voice, trembling with concern, spilled out in a flurry of emotion.

“Yamcha! Are you okay?!” Mai cried, her face buried against his chest. “I was so worried! I thought you were hurt! That fight was terrifying!”

Puar, who was hugging Yamcha’s face, pulled off the hug, his face filled with tears. “We were really worried Yamcha! We were so sure you would win.”

The announcer rushed over. “I-I’m so sorry! We tried to stop them but-”

It’s fine,” Yamcha interrupted softly, his voice calm as he wrapped his arms around Mai, returning the embrace. “Really, it’s okay.”

Mai pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as she cupped his face in her hands. “You fought so hard, I’m so proud of you.”

Before Yamcha could respond, Mai leaned up and kissed him, the warmth of the moment, coupled with her unwavering support, melted away some of the sting of his loss, he rested his forehead against hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Mai. Really.”

Jackie Chun watched the exchange from the edge of the ring, a faint, knowing smile crossing his face before he turned and began walking away, his composure calm and reflective as he disappeared into the exit tunnel.

Back in the stands, Bulma leaned on the walls, her bright blue eyes narrowing as she watched Mai and Yamcha’s heartfelt embrace, her frown deepened as Mai kissed Yamcha, the crowd cheering for the tender moment as much as they had for the fight.

“Ugh, get a room, why don’t you!” Her screams being muffled by the crowd’s cheers, her pout growing, unable to contain her irritation, she turned and gave Tao a sharp slap on the arm. “Boo them or something! You’re supposed to be all about ruthlessness, aren’t you?”

Tao Pai Pai’s cold glare shot to her immediately, his growl low and menacing. “Don’t test me, girl,” he warned, his voice icy.

Bulma huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. “Fine, whatever,” she mumbled, though her irritation didn’t fade entirely.

She glanced back at the scene, watching Mai hold onto Yamcha with tears in her eyes, her affection for him plain as day, despite herself, Bulma felt her annoyance soften slightly. That’s sweet a tiny voice inside her admitted, though she’d never dare say it aloud, her frown relaxed, replaced by something more thoughtful as she rested her chin in her hand.

A small pang of jealousy crept into her chest, unbidden and unwelcome. Yamcha and Mai had something real. And then there was her, her gaze shifted towards Kakarot, who could be seen watching the arena with his usual frown on his face. “Ugh, what’s wrong with me?” she muttered, pulling her hands up to her face.

Tao glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, but Bulma waved him off before he could say anything. “Don’t ask,” she snapped, burying her face in her arms.

Mai took Yamcha’s hand, and with Puar floating close by, the trio followed Jackie Chun’s path back to the waiting area, Yamcha glanced back at the shattered ring once more, the weight of his loss still present but softened by the warmth of Mai’s support and Jackie Chun’s wisdom.

As they reached the waiting area, a pair of sharp eyes followed them, Kakarot leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Yamcha with a rare expression of genuine surprise.

“Tch,” Kakarot muttered to himself, but his lips curled slightly into a smirk. “So the bandit’s gotten a lot stronger, didn’t see that coming.”

He replayed the battle in his mind, focusing on the raw power Yamcha had unleashed, Kakarot’s tail flicked in contemplation. “Other than me and Tao, he’s the strongest one here,” he admitted to himself, though he wouldn’t dare say it to the bandit. “I would’ve loved to fight him again, guess I really did create a tough rival when I met that guy, Yamcha right, I will remember it this time.”

The announcer’s voice echoed through the arena, introducing the next fighters. Kakarot barely glanced at the names, already certain the match wouldn’t be worth his time, he stretched lazily and made his way toward the stands, intent on finding Bulma and Tao Pai Pai.

As he moved through the tournamet stands, his mind wandered back to Yamcha’s fight. The sheer determination, the raw strength, there was no denying it had left an impression on him. For a fleeting moment, Kakarot found himself looking forward to crossing paths with Yamcha again, knowing the next time they faced off, it would be a battle worth remembering.

Reaching the stands, Kakarot spotted Bulma, looking like she was sulking over for some reason, Tao stood calmly beside her, exuding his usual air of cool confidence. Kakarot smirked, shaking off his lingering thoughts of Yamcha as he made his way toward them. Still, deep down, he couldn’t quite ignore the spark of excitement that his new rival had ignited.