1 Hour Earlier
In an all-white monitoring room, Azmina sat hugging her legs, her long flowing red hair cascading over her shoulders. Her pale, porcelain skin seemed to glow against the stark white surroundings. Her face expressed a mix of sadness and terror as she looked down.
"What should I do, Chronica..." Azmina said with sadness to her friend and colleague.
Chronica lay on her belly, her dark skin a rich contrast against the white floor, her white pixie-cut hair bright against her complexion as she swung her legs. "It's been 3 years you've been asking me the same question. I don't know."
She rolled onto her back and drew one knee up, the tunic's fabric falling away to reveal the long line of her inner thigh. "We don't have a choice. We have to report it to the Supreme Overseer."
"What?!" Azmina exclaimed.
"Yes, she is the highest authority in the Overseer of Reincarnation Department," Chronica began.
"I know, Chronica! Everyone knows that!" Azmina cut her off.
"I know... I just had to say it for some reason. That's weird." Chronica frowned at her own behavior.
"Do you think he's hurt? Do you think he's lonely?" Azmina's voice cracked. "I feel so bad for him... I want to be with him to help him,"
Chronica looked at her with concern, then softened. "You're really kind, Azmina... Being so empathetic with souls..."
Azmina snapped out of it. "Ah! Hehehe!" She laughed nervously.
Suddenly, light illuminated the back of Azmina's red hair. Chronica, now sitting up on the couch, looked past her, eyes widening.
"What the..."
"What's wrong?" Azmina asked, turning to follow her gaze.
There, on the screen that had been dark for three years, an image appeared. A man, imposing, tall, sculpted by relentless training. Blonde hair blazing. Emerald eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to pierce through dimensions.
"Who is he?" Chronica asked, grabbing the manual of the Dragon Ball world and frantically searching through categories of techniques and transformations.
But Azmina wasn't moving. She stared at the screen, her expression shifting entirely. A smile formed, warm and tender, yet carrying something deeper beneath. Her pale cheeks flushed crimson. Her eyes grew soft, almost dazed, pupils dilating as she gazed at the figure on screen. Her breathing became irregular, quickening.
"Those eyes~" she whispered in a breathy tone, bringing both hands to her chest. The movement pressed against her ample breasts, causing them to rise with each increasingly rapid breath. "It's Goku~"
The fabric of her ceremonial robes shifted and bunched with the motion, forming visible creases across her chest as it rose and fell, her breathing pattern completely changed from moments before.
Chronica, still flipping through the manual, glanced up at her friend. She paused, her confident expression faltering as she took in Azmina's flushed face, her trembling hands, the irregular rise and fall of her chest.
Those might have been signs...
Chronica's eyebrows furrowed. Her gaze turned back to the screen, studying this Goku guy.
---
At the tournament.
The world had gone silent. Not peaceful quiet, but the suffocating silence of hundreds of people holding their breath simultaneously, afraid that even breathing might draw the attention of the being descending from the storm.
Bulma, Mai, and Lunch stood huddled together near the preparation area entrance, their fashionable dresses soaked from the seawater rain, makeup running slightly from it. They'd been clinging to each other in terror as Piccolo charged his island-destroying attack, but now they stood frozen, still holding each other. Chi-Chi pressed close beside them, all four women united in primal fear.
They stared upward at the figure floating in the sky.
The being was terrifying in a way that transcended normal fear. His emerald eyes swept across the battlefield with an intensity that made looking directly at them feel dangerous, like staring at the sun. His face was set in an expression of cold fury barely restrained.
Those eyes continued their sweep, cataloging everything below with mechanical efficiency. For just a moment, one fleeting instant, they passed over their group.
The cold, penetrating gaze touched them.
Everyone twitched in terror, beads of sweat mixing with seawater on their faces. "He's gonna kill us!" Bulma whispered from the corner of her mouth, her voice barely audible.
All four girls trembled. But they weren't alone, the fighters felt it too. Yamcha, Krillin, Tien, Chaozu, all experienced warriors reduced to trembling by sheer presence alone.
For those who could sense ki, it was even worse. Kakarot remained on her knees, crushed under the pressure. Baba gripped her robe. The weight wasn't just overwhelming, it was suffocating, like being trapped under an ocean.
Piccolo stood with his devastating attack still held above his head, beads of sweat rolling down his temple. *You finally came!* he thought, his mind a mixture of terror and savage anticipation. *I was waiting for you... and I'm not disappointed!*
Mai stared at the descending figure, terror written across her features. Then, as those emerald eyes locked onto hers specifically, something shifted in that cold expression. Just for a heartbeat, barely visible, a hint of tenderness flickered across the emotionless face.
Mai noticed it. Her scared expression slowly transformed into curiosity, confusion cutting through her fear.
The being pivoted in mid-air to face them directly and began descending, his torn clothes rippling in the wind.
"He's coming toward us!" Chi-Chi whispered frantically. "We have to run!"
"Where?!" Bulma hissed back. "I'm paralyzed! I can't move!"
"I think I'm gonna pee myself," Lunch added, her voice cracking.
Krillin, Tien, and Yamcha dropped into combat stances, preparing to intercept despite the overwhelming odds. "L-let's go, guys!" Krillin said, trying to protect his friends even though he knows he has no chance, as he led them forward.
Before they could move, Kakarot's voice cut through the tension: "DON'T!" She struggled to lift her head under the crushing ki. "You'll get killed..."
"Imbeciles!" Piccolo spat, disgusted. "Learn your place!" The fact that they'd even consider challenging that monster was beneath contempt.
Roshi grabbed Baba's arm urgently. "Big sis! We have to do something!"
But Baba was staring at the descending figure with a small, warm smile on her face. "You found your way back," she said softly, as if greeting an old friend. "Welcome home."
Roshi didn't understand everything, but he understood enough, it was going to be alright now.
One bare foot touched the grass around the arena with a soft thud. Then the other. The being now stood on the ground, facing the girls, separated from them only by the low wall between the crowd area and the arena floor.
Still hugging each other, trembling, except for Mai, who couldn't look away from his face. Something about it bothered her. Something she couldn't quite place.
He began walking toward the wall. Toward them.
"Mai! Stop staring at him!" Lunch whispered urgently, trying to pull her friend away.
Everyone watched in absolute silence. The entire island had never been this quiet. Even the animals felt the pressure, birds having fled miles away, insects gone silent.
Mai watched the man approach, step by step. The closer he came, the more she had to look up to maintain eye contact. Her heart hammered in her chest for reasons she couldn't explain.
He stopped inches away from her, only the wall separating them now. This close, the details were impossible to ignore, the golden hair, the emerald eyes, the adult features, the powerful frame. Everything was wrong. Everything was different.
But those eyes...
Mai's own eyes went wide, and without understanding why, tears began streaming down her face. When he saw them, the corner of his mouth curved into a small smirk, barely visible, but unmistakably there.
That smirk. She knew that smirk.
Her eyes widened even further as recognition crashed through her like lightning. Her lips trembled as she formed the words, barely a whisper.
"Mister Goku...?"
The smirk widened just slightly. Confirmation.
Without controlling her body, without thinking, Mai jumped over the wall. Her arms extended, palms open, tears flowing freely behind her as she launched herself at him.
"MISTER GOKU!"
Her voice cracked with three years of worry, fear, searching, and love finally released all at once. She collided with his chest, her arms wrapping around him desperately, her face pressing against the torn white fabric of his shirt.
For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed.
Then Goku's arms, those powerful arms that were once small, came up slowly and wrapped around her frame. One hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her dark hair.
"I'm back" he said quietly, his voice deeper than she remembered but unmistakably his. "It's been so long..."
"Goku?" Bulma's voice cracked with uncertainty and desperate hope.
Still holding Mai gently, Goku turned toward Bulma and Lunch. That same small smirk appeared on his face, the one Mai had recognized.
Then, as if to remove all doubt, his golden aura flickered and vanished. His hair lost its radiant color, the spikes falling back into their usual wild, spiky pattern, black. His emerald eyes faded, returning to the familiar warm black that they all remembered.
Bulma's eyes widened as the final piece clicked into place. That really was Goku. This powerful, terrifying, adult figure was her friend, the rude kid who'd dragged her on that impossible adventure years ago.
Her perfect, composed features crumbled. Her mouth twisted, her face scrunching as she fought desperately against the tears threatening to overwhelm her. The expression became something ugly and raw, vanity abandoned in the face of overwhelming emotion. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her shoulders shaking as three years of searching, worrying, and frustration crashed down on her all at.
"That's really you?!" The words came out strangled, her voice weird and broken as she fought to hold back the tears.
Goku, still holding Mai, looked at Bulma with a warm smile and gentle eyes, the Goku they remembered showing through despite the changes.
That look broke her completely.
Bulma jumped over the wall and rushed toward him, her head down to hide her face. She began punching his shoulders.
"Idiot... idiot!" Each word accompanied by another weak punch. "Where were you?! We looked everywhere! You promised!"
Behind her, Lunch hadn't moved. She stood with her back to the others, arms crossed, hiding her face.
Everyone had heard Mai shout his name. The realization rippled through the remaining crowd like a shockwave.
"Goku..." Krillin's voice cracked, tears already forming in his eyes. His best friend.
"It can't be..." Tien breathed, his third eye wide with disbelief.
"But the hair... the eyes... the tail!" Yamcha stammered, still trying to reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew to be possible.
Kakarot stood frozen, confusion written across her features. This was Goku?
Piccolo clicked his tongue in disgust. "You all realize just now it's Goku?" His voice carried frustration and something darker, jealousy at the reunion he was witnessing.
Then, so quietly only he could hear, he whispered: "You don't deserve him..."
When Kakarot heard Piccolo confirm it was really Goku, shock transformed her expression. She turned her head rapidly toward her grandmother, their eyes locking across the distance.
Baba gave her a gentle nod of confirmation.
Kakarot's face brightened like the sun itself, a huge smile splitting her features. Without hesitation, she ran forward and jumped, wrapping her arms around Goku from behind in an enthusiastic hug.
"GOKU! I missed you!" she shouted joyfully, her tail wagging with excitement.
"Who are y—" Goku started to ask, confused by the stranger hugging him.
"GOKU!" Krillin's shout cut him off as the short warrior launched himself over the wall, tears streaming freely down his face. He tried to find a place to hug his friend in the growing pile of people.
Soon everyone approached, Roshi with a relieved smile, Baba floating serenely on her crystal ball, Yamcha and Tien looking overwhelmed with emotion. It was a warm scene, chaotic and joyful. The missing piece that connected everyone together had finally returned.
Then Chi-Chi took a tentative step forward. Her voice came out small and hopeful, her hands clasped together nervously at her chest, the gesture inadvertently pushing her breasts up slightly.
"Goku...?"
At the sound of his name, Goku turned his head toward the voice and saw her. Recognition flickered, he remembered her face, but from where?
"Do I know you, cutie?" Goku asked with genuine curiosity.
"I'M YOUR BRIDE, YOU JERK!" Chi-Chi exploded, her face going red with embarrassment and frustration.
"Hold up now, girl, I don't—" Goku tried to protest.
"Don't try to sly your way out of this!" Baba interrupted, floating forward on her crystal ball. "He already promised himself to my granddaughter! And besides, she won the fight fair and square!"
"Oy oy, what are you delirious about, crazy hag?" Goku shot back, his old blunt rudeness showing through despite his changed appearance.
"CRAZY HAG?!" Baba shrieked.
"He promised me first!" Chi-Chi insisted.
"Actually, Mister Goku showed interest in me before any of you!" Mai added, still clinging to his chest.
"That's not how it works!" Bulma joined in, having recovered enough to enter the argument.
Soon all the women were talking over each other, each claiming some sort of priority or promise. The boys, Krillin, Yamcha, Tien, stood to the side watching this absurd spectacle with a mixture of amusement and envy.
"Lucky bastard," Yamcha muttered.
"How does he do it?" Krillin wondered aloud.
In the background, still standing in the damaged arena with his massive sphere of destructive energy held above his head, Piccolo's teeth clenched so hard they should have cracked. Veins bulged at his temples. His entire body trembled with pure, incandescent rage.
*His ignoring me,* he thought, the realization cutting deeper than any physical wound. *Acting like I'm not even here. Like I'm not a threat. Like I'm... nothing.*
"YOU'RE IGNORING ME..." Piccolo's voice started low, building in intensity. "I SEE HOW IT IS... I BET YOU FORGOT ABOUT ME ENTIRELY!"
The sphere above his head pulsed, growing even larger.
"THEN LET ME REMIND YOU BY DESTROYING EVERYTHING YOU CARE ABOUT!"
He thrust his hands forward, and the massive sphere of destruction launched from his palms with the force of a falling star. The attack that had been building for minutes, that contained enough power to obliterate the entire island, rocketed toward the gathered group.
In the crowd, those who'd remained screamed at the top of their lungs, a chorus of pure terror.
Goku's friends noticed the incoming attack and turned. Their eyes widened with horror as they saw death approaching in the form of purple energy.
"WE HAVE TO RUN!" someone shouted.
"IT'S TOO LATE!" another voice cried.
The explosion had already begun. From Piccolo's position, the arena tiles cracked and flew apart. The ground itself began to disintegrate as the attack's leading edge tore through everything in its path.
Bulma, Lunch, and Krillin grabbed onto Goku, shaking him desperately. "GOKU! PLEASE! DO SOMETHING!"
"IT'S OVER!" Bulma screamed, her voice breaking. "WE'RE GOING TO DIE!"
Goku's expression didn't change. With gentle hands, he placed them on Mai's shoulders and carefully removed her from his embrace. He gave her a warm smile.
"I'll be back," he said simply.
Everything happened in the space of a heartbeat.
The blast was coming, tearing through the earth, destroying everything in its path. Kakarot still clung to his back, her arms wrapped around his neck. Goku rotated rapidly toward the attack, and as he turned, he opened his mouth.
What came out was a deafening, short shout that carried more force than any energy blast.
"HAAA!"
The shockwave exploded outward from his position like a physical thing. Everyone nearby immediately covered their ears, the sound itself painful at this proximity.
The shockwave collided with Piccolo's devastating attack head-on.
The ground in front of him began to disintegrate, carved away by the force of his voice. The crater grew deeper and deeper, extending toward Piccolo's position with unstoppable momentum. Piccolo's attack reversed direction, pushed back by nothing but compressed air.
Piccolo's eyes widened with genuine shock as his own technique hurtled back toward him. "Impossible!"
The reversed attack and Goku's continuing shockwave hit Piccolo simultaneously. The explosion was cataclysmic, a sphere of destruction easily a hundred feet in diameter erupted where Piccolo stood, consuming everything in its radius.
The wind generated by the collision blasted outward with hurricane force. The black storm clouds that had been gathering were simply erased, blown away to reveal clear blue sky. Rocks, tiles, and debris flew toward Goku's group like shrapnel.
Everyone scrambled to grab onto Goku, using him as a shield and anchor. Kakarot still hugged his neck, her body flopping like a flag in the wind but her grip never loosening.
Rocks crashed into Goku and simply shattered, as if they'd hit a mountain.
When the attack finally ended, a giant cloud of smoke and dust covered a third of the island. The arena was simply gone, erased, leaving only a massive crater.
Lunch stared at the destruction, then pumped her fist in the air. "TAKE THAT, YOU BITCH!"
Roshi, Tien, and Yamcha's jaws had literally dropped open. They stood frozen, unable to process what they'd just witnessed.
Goku had stopped Piccolo's most devastating attack, the one the demon had been charging for minutes, the one that had taken everything he had to create, with a shout.
"This is ridiculous," Yamcha said with a shocked smile, his voice distant.
"THAT'S GOKU FOR YOU!" Krillin shouted, pumping his fist enthusiastically, proud of his childhood friend and former rival.
Bulma wasn't looking at the settling cloud of dust. Her eyes were fixed on that broad back stretching the fabric of a shirt that had become far too small for him. The boy who had once barely reached her chest now towered over her. Even his tail had grown, longer and thicker, swaying with a power that made her heart skip.
Her pulse quickened. Heat crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks as her hand rose unconsciously to her chest, fingers splaying over her racing heart.
"Pervert..." Oolong muttered from beside her, hands shoved in his pockets as he noticed the dreamy expression on her face.
"SHUT UP!!" Bulma's voice cracked with embarrassment, her face burning even brighter.
Nearby, Mai stood transfixed, her dark eyes never leaving Goku's silhouette. She remembered the decision she'd made while running for their lives from Cymbal, half-formed, born of fear and desperation. But now, standing here watching him, feeling the certainty settle into her bones, she knew beyond any doubt, no matter what happened, no matter who else appeared in her life, he would be the only one for her. Her heart had already decided.
The wind picked up, dispersing the last tendrils of dust and smoke. Kakarot dropped from Goku's neck, landing lightly on her feet as she peered into the massive crater below.
As the final veil of debris cleared, a figure emerged, standing, but barely. Piccolo clutched his arm, blood streaming down his skin and soaking into what remained of his purple gi. The entire top half was shredded, hanging in tatters. His chest heaved as he panted, sweat and blood mixing, dripping onto the scorched earth beneath him.
Goku stood at the crater's edge, looking down. His expression was unreadable.
Piccolo raised his head, meeting those cold emerald eyes. The position was familiar, exactly like that day. The day Goku had saved him. Despite the pain wracking his body, Piccolo's lips curved into a defiant smirk.
"You need more than that to kill me!!" he shouted, blood and spit flying from his mouth with the words.
Goku's gaze didn't waver, that death glare fixed on the demon below. "I wasn't trying to kill you," he said, his voice colder than ice.
Then he turned his head slightly. "Where is Kami?"
Everyone looked at him, then at each other in confusion.
Kakarot pointed down toward Piccolo. "He sealed Kami-sama in a bottle and swallowed it."
Goku's eyes widened, genuine surprise breaking through his stoic mask. Then his eyes closed, and an involuntary sound escaped him. Not quite a laugh, more like an exhale of dark amusement. "That's funny..."
"What's funny?" Kakarot asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing." Goku opened his eyes. "Stay here. I'll go retrieve him."
"Wait!" Kakarot grabbed his arm. "This is my fight!"
Baba floated forward on her crystal ball, interposing herself between them. "Wait, Kakarot! He's not going to fight Piccolo. He's only going to retrieve Kami-sama." She turned toward Goku, her eyes searching his face even as he refused to meet her gaze. "Goku... when you get the jar back and free Kami-sama, what do you plan to do?"
A pause. Then, quietly: "Kill him?"
The crowd gasped collectively. Confusion rippled through them like a shockwave.
"What?!" Krillin's voice cracked. "What is she talking about?"
Goku looked at Baba, his gaze lowered but not bothering to drop his head. He said nothing. Gave no answer. No denial.
Without another word, he leaped down into the crater, landing with barely a sound beside Piccolo.
Kakarot moved to follow, but Baba's hand on her shoulder stopped her. Everyone rushed to the crater's edge, peering down at the scene unfolding below.
Goku approached Piccolo with measured steps, his face utterly blank. "Throw up the bottle."
Piccolo, despite his injuries, managed a pained smile. "If you want it, you'll have to figh—GUUUUHHH!"
"I'm not in the mood."
Piccolo's eyes bulged. His stomach caved in dangerously, the impact so fast no one had seen it coming. His eyes immediately began watering. His throat bulged. His cheeks inflated grotesquely.
Then the bottle shot out of his mouth along with a spray of green bile.
"Incredible!" Tien breathed from above. "I didn't see a thing! Not even a movement!"
"He got the bottle out!" Krillin shouted.
But Kakarot and Piccolo had noticed something else entirely. Their eyes widened simultaneously.
Goku's ki, that overwhelming, suffocating presence, was gradually decreasing. Shrinking. And then... it vanished entirely. Completely gone, as if he'd ceased to exist.
*That level of control,* piccolo thought, her mind reeling. *To suppress your ki to absolute zero... can a mortals do that?!.*
A tiny sphere of energy gathered in Goku's palm. He flicked it toward the bottle. The jar shattered on impact, white smoke billowing out in a rush.
The smoke swirled, condensed, and materialized into a figure.
Kami.
"There's two Piccolos!!" Bulma shouted from above, pointing between the demon and the Guardian.
Lunch looked equally shocked, her eyes darting between them. "What the hell?!"
For Kami, no time had passed. In the seal's void, time didn't flow. There was no light, no sensation, nothing to perceive. One moment he'd been fighting Piccolo, the next he stood here.
He looked around, disoriented. A crater? To his right, Piccolo knelt holding his stomach. To his left, up on the crater's edge, stood everyone, and notably, Kakarot.
"What happened?" Kami muttered to himself, piecing it together. "I see... he must have reversed my Mafuba."
He looked at Piccolo's battered form, at the evidence of a brutal beatdown. Pride and relief flooded through him.
"Nicely done, Kakarot," Kami said, his voice warm with approval. "Let's finish him now!"
Piccolo looked up at Kami and smiled. Not a grimace of pain, but a knowing, almost mocking smile.
The expression made Kami pause. Something was wrong.
"Imbecile," Piccolo said, his voice rough but tinged with dark amusement. "It wasn't her. It's the one standing right behind you."
Kami frowned, turning his head.
And froze.
That familiar spiky hair. That tail. Those eyes, unmistakable.
"S-Son Goku!?" The name came out as barely a whisper.
Goku said nothing. He simply began walking forward, each step heavy. His face was a mask of cold fury barely restrained, emerald eyes locked onto Kami with an intensity that made the Guardian's blood run cold.
Kami felt his heartbeat accelerate, felt fear creeping up his spine. He didn't let it show on his face, but internally, every instinct screamed at him that he was in mortal danger.
Goku closed the distance.
Then his arm drew back.
*BOOM!*
A massive shockwave exploded outward, a violent gust of wind that kicked up dust and debris in all directions. But the punch never connected.
Kakarot stood between them, both her hands locked around Goku's fist, her arms trembling and numb from the impact. Her feet had carved trenches in the ground from the force.
"GOKU!" she shouted, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes. "What's wrong?! Kami-sama is a nice guy! He's the Guardian of Earth! He trained me!"
Goku's expression didn't change. He didn't try to pull his fist back, but he didn't lower it either.
Baba floated down slowly, towards kakarot.
"Three years ago," Baba began, "after the last Tenkaichi Budokai, Goku disappeared. No one could find him. Not even my crystal ball could locate him."
She turned her gaze to Kami, he flinched.
"Goku was sealed away. Trapped in a void for three years,... And the one who sealed him there... was Kami-sama himself."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then Bulma exploded.
"WHAT?!" Her face contorted with fury, fists clenched at her sides. "You sealed him away?!"
"Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Lunch's voice cracked like a whip
Mai's hand remained over her mouth.
From the crater floor, Piccolo's laughter echoed up, pained, breathless, but genuine.
"Oh, this is RICH!" He coughed, blood flecking his lips. "You know, Kami... I'm supposed to be your evil side. The monster you rejected." He smiled, showing bloodstained teeth. "But you? You've got quite a bit of evil in you too, old man. Maybe we're not so different after all."
Despite the situation, there was an almost joking tone to his words, a dark appreciation for the irony.
Kami stood frozen, his face carved with shame. He didn't defend himself. Didn't offer excuses. His eyes remained fixed on the ground, unable to meet anyone's gaze.
Kakarot's hands trembled around Goku's fist. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Kami.
"Is it true?" Her voice was small, almost childlike. "Kami-sama... did you really...?"
Kakarot's voice trailed off as Kami refused to meet her gaze, his eyes sliding away in shame.
"I was... afraid," Kami finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For me, it was the rational decision, seal away the unknown threat until Piccolo was dealt with." He forced himself to look up, meeting the eyes of those gathered. "But I'm ready to accept my punishment... after we're done with Piccolo."
Kakarot's eyes widened at the revelation. But as she studied his torn expression, the genuine regret.
She turned back to Goku, wiggling her arms. They were still numb from the impact of catching what he'd called a "light punch."
"Goku!" she said, forcing brightness into her voice. "How about forgiving him? He's repenting, and he got sealed away in that void too, didn't he?"
Goku's eyes narrowed dangerously. His ki began to rise, subtle but unmistakable to those who could sense it.
"Forgive?" The word came out cold and sharp. "I wasn't in a void."
Roshi stepped forward. "That's been bothering me too! If Goku was sealed in the Mafuba, if he just got out, he should look exactly as he did the last time we saw him, same age, same appearance. But now..."
His eyes swept over Goku's transformed body. Everyone followed his gaze, taking in the details they'd been too shocked to fully process before.
Goku's large, athletic bare feet were planted firmly in the crater floor. His pants were torn and tattered, revealing powerful calves carved from marble, thick with defined muscle. His legs seemed impossibly long now, supporting a frame that had grown dramatically. The tears in his clothing exposed glimpses of his torso, a chiseled landscape of abs and obliques, each muscle group clearly defined even at rest. His arms hung at his sides, long and powerful, corded with lean muscle that spoke of countless battles. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep. Even his jawline had sharpened, losing the last softness of youth.
The boy who'd left three years ago had been replaced by a man forged in fire.
At Roshi's words, both Kami and Baba's eyes widened in realization.
"Th-that's true..." Kami breathed. "What happened in there?"
"Where were you?" Baba demanded, her usual confident demeanor cracking.
Goku's head shifted just enough for his gaze to find Baba. A faint smile curved his lips, too calm, too emotionless for the storm that followed.
A crushing wave of ki burst outward like a physical force, grinding the stone beneath his feet to powder. The sky itself seemed to recoil from the pressure. Rocks and debris began to levitate, caught in the invisible maelstrom of his power.
And in that moment, his eyes burned from black to emerald green. His hair flared upward in defiance of gravity, each strand igniting into brilliant gold.
"Hell happened," he said, his voice impossibly calm.
Everyone's eyes widened, some from the strange transformation overtaking him, others from the sheer crushing weight of his ki. But all were rendered speechless, mouths hanging open in shock.
Goku turned his blazing gaze to Kami. The old Guardian shook under the pressure, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Enough chit-chat." Goku's voice carried the weight of judgment itself. "Come, Kami. Let me put this rage in me to rest."
He began walking forward, each step deliberate.
Kami knew. This was it. If he died, Piccolo would die with him, and perhaps that was justice. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact that would end everything.
But nothing came.
He opened his eyes to see a furry tail, tense and trembling with effort, stretched taut in front of him. Following it upward, he saw Kakarot, her arms wrapped around Goku's torso, every muscle in her body flexed as she used all her might to hold him back.
"Kakarot!?" Kami gasped.
"DON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION TO SEDUCE HIM!!" Chi-Chi's voice rang out from above, her face red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
"YEAH!!" Lunch added, pumping her fist indignantly.
Goku lowered his head, looking at the girl desperately trying to restrain him. Her muscles trembled with the effort, veins visible on her arms and neck as she poured everything into stopping him.
"What are you—" Goku started to say, then cut himself off mid-sentence.
He'd noticed the tail behind her. His eyes widened.
The same as him.
"Who are you, by the way?" he asked, genuine curiosity breaking through his anger for the first time.
Kakarot lifted her head to face him, having to crane her neck to look up at his now-towering form. Her expression was a mixture of shock and sadness, eyes wide and glistening.
"You don't remember?!" Her voice cracked. "It's me! When we fought together ! We had so much fun!"
"Don't remember," Goku said flatly.
"She's my granddaughter," Baba offered from her floating position.
Goku looked at Baba, and slowly, a memory surfaced, the little girl who'd hit him during their match. The one he'd pummeled into the ground.
"Okay, then?" He looked back down at Kakarot. "Now move aside. I need to speak with Kami."
"You want to just spea—no!" Kakarot tightened her grip. "So what happened during those three years?!"
Goku's eyes widened. "Three years?"
He stared at his own hand, now large enough to nearly cover Kakarot's entire face. The realization settled over him like a physical weight.
"It felt like an eternity," he whispered.
The crowd was hanging on every word. Even Piccolo, still nursing his injuries, had stopped moving to listen.
Baba floated closer, her voice soft and careful, as if afraid to startle him. "It felt like more than three years?"
Goku's eyes remained locked on Kakarot, but he wasn't seeing her. His gaze had turned inward, seeing something else entirely, something that made several people in the crowd unconsciously take a step back from the haunted look in his eyes.
"Redness everywhere," he began, his voice distant and hollow. "Red lights always on, never extinguishing. No night. No sleep. Impossible to know when a day passed, or if days even existed there."
He paused, and when he continued, his voice had dropped even lower.
"Then came the swarms. Monsters. Each one stronger than I was. Almost indestructible. When I managed to kill one, two more would spawn from its corpse. Monsters without emotion, without reason. Just endless hunger and violence."
His hand unconsciously moved to his ribs, as if remembering old pain.
"Breaking my bones. Tearing my flesh. Drowning me in my own blood." His jaw clenched. "I was about to give up. To just... let them end it. And then..."
"And then?" Baba prompted gently.
"Aionia's face appeared in my head, And Kami's face beside it."
"It gave me the strength to get up. To survive." Goku's expression hardened again, the vulnerability vanishing behind cold fury. "To find a way back so I could rip you apart with my own hands."
His ki exploded outward violently, a visible shockwave that sent everyone staggering backward. Rocks and pebbles lifted from the ground, caught in the maelstrom of his power. His hair whipped around his head, golden and untamed.
"Wait!" Kakarot shouted over the roar of his energy.
She fumbled at her belt and threw something small toward Piccolo. The demon caught it reflexively, opening his palm to reveal a small bean.
"Kami did something terrible to you," Kakarot said, trying to sound convincing despite the fear evident in her voice. "But we need him to be Earth's Guardian! We need the Dragon Balls!"
"I don't care about that," Goku said flatly, taking another step toward Kami.
"Then here's my proposition!" Kakarot moved to block his path again, though her confidence was clearly wavering. "Fight me!"
Goku's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Are you out of your mind, girl?"
"My name is Kakarot!" she insisted. "And I know you're far stronger than me, I can sense it. But here's the deal, you versus me... and Piccolo."
Goku turned his head to look at Piccolo. The demon had eaten the senzu bean and was now standing, his injuries healed, arms crossed as if he hadn't been on the verge of death moments ago.
"Why would I help you?" Piccolo asked, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Because I know what you want," Kakarot said, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "Same thing I want, to test your strength against Goku."
Piccolo's eyes widened fractionally before narrowing again. His body language shifted subtly, a mixture of anticipation and barely contained excitement.
"FOOLISHNESS, KAKAROT!" Kami shouted from behind her. "Even both of you together can't compare to him now!"
"I know, Kami-sama." Kakarot's voice was steady despite her obvious fear. "That's why we're proposing different win conditions. If you win, Goku, you can do whatever you want with Kami. But if Piccolo and I can land even one hit on you, just one, we win, and you abandon the idea of killing Kami-sama."
"That's ridiculous!" Piccolo said, though his body trembled, with barely suppressed excitement at the prospect of fighting Goku.
Goku's transformation flickered, then faded. His hair fell back to black, his eyes returning to their natural dark color. The crushing pressure of his ki dissipated, allowing everyone to breathe again.
"Fine," he said simply.
Baba's eyes widened in alarm. "Everyone, get back!" She immediately shot upward on her crystal ball, putting distance between herself and the battlefield. "GOKU! DON'T KILL MY GRANDDAUGHTER!"
Kakarot's eyes widened, she hadn't actually expected him to agree. Her hands shot up into a combat stance, muscle memory taking over even as her mind raced.
Piccolo shifted into his own stance, creating distance between himself and Kakarot. They formed a triangle, with Goku at one point and them at the other two.
"Son Goku!" Piccolo called out, a smirk playing at his lips. "Aren't you going to take that blonde form?!"
"Yeah!" Kakarot added, trying to inject confidence into her voice. "Don't underestimate us!"
"I don't need it."
Goku's body language shifted entirely.
His torso arched backward, chest thrust forward in a display of raw dominance. His stance widened, bare feet planted firmly in the crater floor as if rooted to the earth itself, immovable, unshakeable as a mountain. One arm pulled back, fist clenched, while the other hand remained slightly forward, fingers curled like claws ready to rend and tear.
The air around him began to shimmer and distort from the sheer intensity of his presence. His muscles tensed, each one clearly defined beneath the torn fabric of his too-small shirt. The aggressive arch of his spine made him look larger somehow, more imposing, like a predator coiled to strike, like a natural disaster given human form.
Everyone watching from above leaned forward unconsciously. But for Kakarot and Piccolo, standing in the crater facing him, the world had transformed.
Sweat began to bead on their foreheads despite the cool air. Goku's figure seemed to swell before their eyes, appearing massive, not just tall, but monumental. A giant among men. An insurmountable wall.
*This is what true power looks like,* Piccolo thought, his earlier excitement mixing with primal fear. *This is the level I need to reach.*
Kakarot's foot cracked the ground as she used her legs to explosively dash forward. Simultaneously, Piccolo's arm stretched out, extending impossibly as both fighters converged on Goku from different angles, attempting to scissor him between their attacks.
Goku didn't move until they were nearly upon him.
His left hand shot out, catching Piccolo's extended wrist mid-strike. Before the demon could react, Goku yanked violently to pull him forward.
Kakarot sidestepped, throwing a hook toward Goku's exposed left side.
Goku rotated his body with fluid grace, his right elbow coming around in a devastating arc. The strike caught Kakarot square in the face, sending her flying backward like a ragdoll.
Still rotating, still using the same motion, Goku completed his spin. His right hand, the same one that had just struck Kakarot, came around and slammed into Piccolo's gut as the demon was pulled into range.
*THOOM!*
The impact created a shockwave. Piccolo's eyes bulged, spit and blood flying from his mouth as he was blasted backward, tumbling end over end before crashing into the crater wall.
Both fighters now lay on the ground, gasping. That single exchange, lasting perhaps two seconds, had taken everything from them.
Goku began walking toward them, his footsteps echoing in the silent crater. To Kakarot and Piccolo, still reeling from the impacts, he looked like a titan approaching, each step making him seem larger, more unstoppable.
"Stay down and forfeit," his deep voice echoed through the crater, carrying an undercurrent of absolute authority.
Piccolo punched the ground in frustration, the stone cracking under his fist. Using that anger as fuel, he pushed himself up onto shaking arms.
"Listen, woman!" he spat.
Kakarot pulled her head from the rubble where it had been embedded, rubbing her nose tenderly. "Ouuuch..."
"If we want the slightest chance, even the smallest hope of touching him, we have to work together." Piccolo's eyes never left Goku's approaching form.
"What do you have in mind?" Kakarot asked, dusting herself off and forcing her trembling legs to support her weight.
Goku stopped walking. Both of them were getting back up.
"I said stay down." His voice was cold, clinical. "If I wanted it, you'd be dead already."
From above, Lunch hugged herself, red creeping into her cheeks despite the situation. "His back! That's really him!" she breathed, her eyes fixed on his powerful silhouette.
Piccolo and Kakarot exchanged a glance, some understanding passing between them, then charged.
They came at Goku from opposite sides, unleashing a coordinated barrage of punches and kicks. Their strikes came faster than most human eyes could follow, a blur of motion as they attacked high and low, forcing Goku to divide his attention.
But Goku moved through their assault like water flowing around rocks.
He dodged, shifted, blocked, his movements economical and precise. Occasionally, almost lazily, he would throw out a light counterattack, a palm strike here, a jab there, each one forcing them back momentarily before they surged forward again.
"I can't follow any of this!" Yamcha admitted, squinting to try to track the movements.
"Those two are on a completely different level than us," Tien said quietly, his three eyes wide. "And Goku is multiple steps beyond even that."
"ENOUGH!"
Goku's foot slammed into the ground with earth-shaking force. The crater floor buckled and cracked, fissures spreading outward. A shockwave exploded from the point of impact, forcing both Kakarot and Piccolo to stumble backward.
Piccolo immediately tried to press forward again, refusing to give ground.
Goku's fist shot forward, a straight punch directly into Piccolo's gut.
*BOOM!*
Piccolo rocketed backward, bouncing across the crater floor like a skipped stone before finally coming to rest in a heap.
"This is ridiculous," Goku muttered, shaking his head.
Kakarot jumped at him, her fist cocked back for a powerful strike aimed at his head.
Goku saw it coming from a mile away. His body was already turning, preparing the perfect counter, a palm strike to her solar plexus that would drop her instantly.
But then he noticed something.
A long shadow behind her, moving independently. Now everything slowed down in Goku's perception, his mind was processing information so much faster than everyone else.
He analyzed the situation in the fraction of a second it took Kakarot's fist to travel the final foot toward him.
*That shadow is Piccolo's extended arms,* Goku realized. *He's grabbed what's left of her gi top. Their plan, I'm supposed to counter-attack, and he'll yank her back at the last moment, making me whiff. While I'm overextended and open, she'll throw her real attack, the punch she's already committed to.*
A smile ghosted across Goku's lips, invisible in the speed of combat.
*Clever. But let me show you the real gap between us.*
Instead of throwing his counter-attack, Goku took a micro-step forward, toward Kakarot rather than away.
Kakarot's eyes widened in panic. This wasn't the plan! She threw her punch anyway, unable to abort.
Piccolo, seeing Goku step in rather than counter, yanked harder on the gi to pull Kakarot away from whatever trap Goku was setting.
*RRRRIP!*
The sound of tearing fabric echoed through the crater with surprising clarity.
What remained of Kakarot's white gi top came away in Piccolo's extended hands.
Time seemed to freeze.
There, directly in front of Goku, was Kakarot, topless. Her breasts bounced from the sudden motion, the soft flesh moving with a gentle clapping sound that seemed impossibly loud in the sudden silence.
Goku's mind went completely blank.
Nineteen years. It had been nineteen years since he'd first arrived in this world as a baby. Nineteen years of training, fighting, surviving. But nothing else. No time for anything else. No exposure to anything else.
And now, suddenly, unavoidably, there they were.
Her ample breasts swayed gently from the motion, their soft curves rising and falling with a smooth, hypnotic rhythm. The skin glowed pale and smooth in the afternoon light. The pink tips at their peaks had tightened from the sudden exposure, quivering slightly with each subtle shift of her body, creating faint ripples across the rounded surfaces.
Goku's brain overheated, systems crashing. Two conflicting instincts warred within him:
*Punch her. She's attacking. Follow through.*
*Cover her. She's exposed. Be a gentleman.*
His body couldn't decide which command to follow. His hand moved, but whether to strike or shield, even he didn't know.
*PAT!*
*THUD!*
Everyone's eyes widened to their absolute limits.
"GAH!?" Piccolo muttered from where he'd landed, looking away with what might have been embarrassment on his normally stoic face.
Kakarot's arm was extended, her fist pressed against Goku's cheek, a punch that had actually connected, even if it had no force behind it.
And Goku's large hands cupped her breasts, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh, completely hiding the pink peaks from view.
Silence descended over the crater like a physical weight.
"K-Kakarot and Piccolo win!" the tournament announcer's voice cracked through the speakers, the poor man somehow still at his post despite everything that had happened.
As soon as she heard the announcement, Kakarot began jumping in place, celebrating their technical victory. "We did it! We actually—!"
Goku maintained his grip, his hands moving with her jumping, ensuring that no one else could see what he'd accidentally covered. His face had gone completely blank.
From above, the reactions came fast and varied:
"I KNEW IT!" Bulma shouted, though her face was red and she looked away. "He's just like any other guy! I'm not jealous or anything, I just think it's... inappropriate! That's all!" The protest was too loud, too defensive.
"I can help examine the young lady!" Roshi volunteered immediately, his nose already bleeding as he pulled out a handkerchief. "For medical purposes, of course! Very important to check for—"
"UNFAITHFUL!" Mai had both hands pressed over her eyes, though her fingers were spread wide enough to see through. "Mister Goku, I can't believe you'd... we just reunited and you're already... with another woman's..." Her voice trailed off into incoherent sputtering.
Lunch looked down at her own chest, squeezing experimentally. "Me too," she muttered to herself. "I mean, mine are good too, right? He could... no, what am I thinking?!"
"SON GOKU, YOU PERVERT!" Chi-Chi's face was red as a tomato, steam practically coming from her ears. "THOSE SHOULD BE RESERVED FOR YOUR WIFE! WHICH IS ME!"
Tien had turned away, a fierce blush on his face, his third eye firmly closed. "This is inappropriate to witness."
Krillin stared with jealousy, tears streaming down his face. "Why does this stuff always happen to you, Goku? What do you have that I don't?!"
Yamcha, meanwhile, had somehow ended up staring at Kakarot's feet,blushing lightly.
Finally, Kami approached. He extended his hand, and a white gi materialized around Kakarot, covering her.
Kami turned to face Goku fully.
"Son Goku," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I am truly sorry. I was afraid and had too much to think about, too many responsibilities weighing on me. I made a terrible mistake." He lowered his head. "If it will appease your wrath, you can kill me. I won't resist. I won't fight back. I deserve this."
Kakarot looked at Kami, then at Goku, her expression heartbroken at seeing her mentor reduced this.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to punch a hole through your chest. The rage I felt... it kept me alive."
He paused.
"But your face isn't the one I want to shred the most."
When he said that, he turned sharply away from Kami, his gaze fixing on something, or someone, in the distance.
Kakarot immediately jumped on him in a celebratory hug. "I knew it! I knew you were a good person!"
Behind him, in the silence, Kami's eyes watered. as he bowed low. *You don't think of yourself as a kind man,* he thought. *But I do. Thank you.*
"Wait, Goku," Kami called out. "It's the least I can do."
He extended his hand again, and Goku's torn, clothing shimmered and transformed.
When the light faded, Goku stood in an entirely new outfit, a long black overcoat that hung to his knees, fitted perfectly to his powerful frame. Beneath it, a black turtleneck sweater that emphasized his broad shoulders. Light blue distressed jeans with fashionable rips at the knees. And black Chelsea boots that somehow looked both elegant.
Kami smiled, some of his usual confidence returning. "I tried to accommodate your style, or at least, what I thought your style might be now."
Goku looked down at himself, turning slightly to examine the outfit from different angles. He touched the fabric of the coat, testing its weight and flexibility.
"Not bad, old man," he admitted, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.
Baba floated toward him on her crystal ball, an appreciative smile on her ancient face. "Very slick, young man. You clean up nicely."
Goku continued examining his new clothes in detail, particularly interested in the quality of the craftsmanship. "I don't do cougars," he said absently, not looking up.
Baba's eye twitched, but she floated closer undeterred. "Too bad. But more importantly, it's time for you to fulfill your promise!"
Still focused on adjusting his collar, Goku replied distractedly, "What promise, woman?"
"You know..." She floated directly into his line of sight, forcing him to look at her. "The promise about my granddaughter?"
"Ah, yeah." Recognition flickered across his features. "Wasn't it something about taking her somewhere? Or teaching her? Something vague like that?"
"Well, obviously I meant marry her and have babies!" Baba said it casually.
The effect was immediate and dramatic.
Like well-trained bodyguards responding to a threat, four women simultaneously jumped down into the crater, sliding down the walls with impressive speed.
Bulma, Mai, Lunch, and Chi-Chi formed a protective wall behind Goku, all of them glaring at Baba with identical menacing expressions meant to intimidate.
Kakarot just laughed, not fully understanding the implications or the sudden tension.
"Oy! Old hag!" Goku's eye twitched. "I promised to take her with me for training or protection or whatever it was! Not marry her! What kind of scam is this?!"
"SCAM?!" Baba shot forward, somehow grabbing him by the collar despite their size difference, trying futilely to shake him. "Listen here, boy! A promise is a promise! When I said take her, it was clearly implied that meant marriage! That's how these things work!"
"That's not how anything works!" Goku protested.
"IT'S EXACTLY HOW IT WORKS!"
Goku sighed heavily, the sound carrying exhaustion beyond his years. He looked over his shoulder at the four women standing behind him like a protective, or possessive, phalanx.
When the girls realized he was looking at them, they immediately stopped making threatening faces at Baba, each one adopting an expression of exaggerated innocence and embarrassment.
"Mister Goku?" Mai asked, her voice small.
"What's wrong?" Bulma added, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Is something bothering you?" Chi-Chi's cheeks were pink.
Lunch just started blushing under his piercing gaze, unable to form words.
Goku stared at them for a long moment, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes moved from face to face, studying each one with an intensity that made them squirm.
Finally, he sighed again, even deeper than before, and looked back at Baba and Kakarot.
"Wait for me for a few days," he said simply. "I have something I need to take care of first."
His body lifted off the ground, beginning to float upward.
"Wait, Son-kun!" Bulma called out. "Where are you going?! You just came back!"
He looked down at her, his face softening fractionally. "I'm coming back. I promise. Just... go home. All of you." His gaze swept across the gathered fighters and friends. "I'll return soon."
"But—" Mai started.
*BOOM!*
The sound was deafening, like a jet breaking the sound barrier. Goku shot into the sky, a trail of disturbed air marking his passage. Within seconds, he was just a speck against the blue. Then even that vanished.
The four women stood in the crater, staring up at the empty sky where Goku had been moments before. Their shoulders sagged simultaneously, disappointment written clearly across all their faces.
"He just left," Bulma muttered, her voice small and hurt.
"After we finally found him," Mai added, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.
"Where could he possibly need to go?" Chi-Chi wondered aloud.
Lunch just kicked at a rock, sending it skittering across the crater floor. "Typical guy. Shows up, causes a scene, then disappears."
Kakarot walked up to Baba, who was still floating on her crystal ball. "Grandma, what did Goku mean? About the other face he wants to find?"
Baba looked at her. "i don't know, doesn't matter, let's go home pack your stuff, you will start your new life soon"
---
After several minutes of high-speed flight, Goku descended toward South City. He landed in a quiet alley far from prying eyes, his boots touching down on cracked pavement with barely a sound.
Taking a moment to adjust his new outfit, straightening the collar of his black turtleneck, smoothing the long coat, he stepped out onto the main street with practiced confidence.
His posture had changed entirely from the wild, combat-ready stance of earlier. Now he walked with sophistication, chest up, shoulders back, one hand casually tucked in his pocket while the other swung naturally at his side. His eyes looked straight ahead, projecting the kind of quiet authority that made people instinctively move out of his way.
And they noticed him.
A woman in a business suit did a double-take as he passed, her eyes tracking him appreciatively. Two men in casual wear glanced at him with barely concealed envy. A group of teenagers whispered to each other, pointing. Even the elderly shopkeeper sweeping his storefront paused to watch this striking figure stride by.
Goku felt every single gaze on him, and a small smile curved his lips.
"Just like old times," he murmured to himself.
The familiarity of it was almost comforting, this game of appearances and perceptions, so different from the raw honesty of combat. He'd lived this life before, in what felt like another lifetime. The memories came back easily, how to walk, how to dress, how to manipulate social expectations to get what you wanted.
He stopped in front of a massive building, its glass and steel facade reflecting the afternoon sun. Craning his neck back, he read the elegant lettering above the entrance.
**MORGAN ENTERPRISES**
"That must be it," he said, allowing himself a slightly predatory smile.
He approached the entrance with the same confident stride, but two men in expensive suits materialized to block his path. Security, clearly well-trained, their stance professional but firm.
"Sorry, sir," the taller one said, his tone polite but unyielding. "Looking sharp sir, but we can't let you enter without clearance."
Goku's smile didn't waver. "Good afternoon to you both. I'm an acquaintance of the CEO."
The second guard's expression remained neutral. "I'm sorry, sir. You understand we can't just trust everybody who says that. Company policy."
"Silly me!" Goku's tone shifted to something more urbane, more polished. "Of course. Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Goku. I'm Mister Morgan's lawyer."
The bodyguard looked him up and down, taking in the expensive coat, the confident posture, the general air of someone who belonged in boardrooms. Still, he pressed a finger to his earpiece.
"Hey, there's a Mister..." he glanced at Goku.
"Goku," Son supplied helpfully.
"...Goku here. Says he's Morgan's lawyer. Can you give me information? He says he knows him."
The guard turned slightly away to better hear the response, his attention diverted.
Goku's smile widened fractionally. *First step done. Now for the main course.*
He could have simply flown directly to the top floor. Could have forced his way through with overwhelming power. But where was the fun in that? Where was the artistry? He'd always appreciated subtlety, the satisfaction of manipulating a situation through intelligence rather than brute force.
While the guard was distracted, Goku casually moved toward the glass walls of the building. Through them, he could see the reception area, and more importantly, the receptionist at her desk. She was speaking on the phone, probably the very person giving information to the bodyguard right now.
He'd done this countless times in his previous life. The dance was familiar, almost nostalgic.
Leaning against the glass wall with calculated nonchalance, one shoulder pressed to the surface, he waited. Patience was key. He kept his gaze in her general direction, but not directly at her, not yet.
And then, as he knew she would, she turned her eyes toward the entrance.
The moment her gaze landed on him, Goku turned his face away, fast enough that the movement itself would draw attention, create intrigue. Then, as if just noticing her for the first time, he slowly turned back.
Their eyes met through the glass.
He smiled, not the wild grin of battle, but something warmer, more intimate. His hand came up, brushing back through his black hair in a gesture that was both casual and deliberately attractive. The movement made his coat shift, emphasizing his broad shoulders.
He was waiting for the signal. And she gave it.
A smile traced across her face, flustered, genuine, the kind that reached her eyes and made her cheeks flush pink. She looked down quickly, shy, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
*Got you.*
"Emma, what's wrong?" the bodyguard's voice crackled through her phone, confused by her sudden silence.
She blinked, seeming to come back to herself. "Oh! Yeah, I'm sorry. What did you say his name was again?" A pause. "Goku?"
She glanced up once more, meeting Goku's eyes through the glass. He uncrossed his arms and, very discreetly, pointed a single finger toward the bodyguard, a silent request, a shared secret between them.
She bit her lip, hesitating. Professional protocol warred with those eyes looking at her like she was the only person in the world. Her heart hammered in her chest.
Protocol lost.
"Yes," she said into the phone. "Yes, Mister Goku is cleared. He's expected."
The bodyguard straightened, pressing his earpiece again. "Mister Goku! My apologies for the delay. You may enter."
Goku's expression shifted to one of pleasant surprise and gratitude, perfectly calibrated, perfectly false. "Oh, thank God! Thank you for your diligent work. Security is so important these days."
He walked past them into the building, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft hiss.
Emma, the receptionist, tracked his approach with wide eyes. He moved with such natural confidence, like he owned the building itself. When he reached her desk, he leaned forward slightly, bringing himself to her eye level.
"Hello," he said, his voice warm and intimate. "Thank you for your help back there."
"I—I shouldn't have—" she stammered, her cheeks burning.
"Here." He took her hand gently, she gasped at the contact, and produced a pen from her own desk. With smooth, confident strokes, he wrote a series of numbers across her palm. Random digits that meant absolutely nothing, but she didn't need to know that. "That's my number. Call me."
Before she could respond, before she could even process what was happening, he released her hand and walked past her toward the elevators, his coat swishing behind him.
"I... you..." Emma stared at her hand, at the numbers written there, her heart doing gymnastics in her chest. "Wait~"
But he was already gone, the elevator doors closing on his smile.
The elevator ascended smoothly, soft music playing overhead. Goku checked his reflection in the polished steel, making minor adjustments to his appearance. His expression was calm, almost serene.
*Ding.*
The doors opened onto the executive floor, plush carpet, expensive art on the walls, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of South City.
Another secretary sat at a desk outside a pair of imposing double doors. She looked up as he emerged, her professional smile already forming.
Goku didn't slow down. He walked with such absolute confidence, such unquestionable authority, that she hesitated, conditioned by years of deference to assume anyone who walked like that must belong.
"Sir! Sir!" She finally found her voice, standing up quickly. "You need an appointment! You can't just—"
"I don't," Goku called back, not bothering to turn around. "I'm his whole world now!"
He pushed both doors open in a dramatic gesture, his coat billowing behind him.
"Morgan! My frie—"
*CRACK!*
The sound of a leather whip cutting through air.
"SQUEAL FOR ME, PIGGY!"
"Oink! Oink!"
Goku stopped dead in his tracks. The secretary, who'd been chasing after him, froze behind him, her face immediately turning crimson. She averted her gaze so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash.
In front of them, in all its glory, was a scene that would be burned into their retinas forever.
A short, rotund man, barely dressed in what could only be described as a leather thong that was doing absolutely no favors for anyone, was on all fours on the expensive carpet. Standing over him with a riding crop was a woman in full dominatrix regalia, leather corset, thigh-high boots, and a mask that covered the top half of her face.
For a moment, nobody moved. The scene was frozen like a very unfortunate photograph.
Then Morgan, for it was indeed him, looked up and saw Goku standing in the doorway. His jaw dropped, the "oink" dying in his throat.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" He scrambled to his feet with surprising agility for a man of his size, his nearly-naked body jiggling with the motion. "HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!"
He lunged for his desk, yanking open a drawer and producing a handgun. He pointed it at Goku with shaking hands, approaching menacingly.
Goku, for his part, looked genuinely concerned, but not about the gun.
"Morgan, please," he said, his voice strained. "That thong. It's getting closer. I'm begging you, stay back."
He lifted one boot, placing it firmly on Morgan's approaching face, stopping him at arm's, or rather, leg's, length.
"I'm heartbroken, Morgan," Goku continued, his tone mockingly hurt. "You don't even remember me?"
"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHO YOU ARE!"
*BANG!*
Morgan pulled the trigger at point-blank range, the shot aimed directly at Goku's forehead.
The secretary and dominatrix both screamed in terror, their hands flying to their mouths.
*Ting!*
The bullet hit Goku's forehead and bounced off with a metallic sound, as if it had struck solid steel. It ricocheted harmlessly to the side, embedding itself in a expensive-looking painting on the wall.
Silence descended over the room like a physical weight.
Morgan stared, the gun still smoking in his trembling hands. His eyes were so wide they looked ready to fall out of his skull.
Then, slowly, Goku's eyes began to glow.
Red light emanated from his pupils, spreading outward to darken the contours around his eyes. The effect was demonic, otherworldly. His voice, when he spoke, seemed to drop several octaves, becoming deeper, resonating with something inhuman.
"You should give a fuck about it, Morgan."
The words seemed to vibrate the air itself.
Morgan's face went from red to white in an instant. Sweat erupted across his entire body, streaming down his face, his chest, his considerably exposed everything. His pupils shrank to pinpoints.
And then the memories hit him.
*Three years ago. Late at night. His son calling for help, the spoiled brat had gotten in over his head. Morgan had sent twenty armed men to extract him. Twenty of his best. And then... then that boy had appeared.*
*A child, no older than fourteen, but moving like death itself. The men hadn't stood a chance. Bones broken. Bodies thrown through walls. Screaming. So much screaming.*
*And then the boy had stood over him, looking down with those same eyes.*
"Y-you..." Morgan's voice came out as a strangled whisper, the gun clattering from his nerveless fingers. "You're that boy!"
Instantly, the red light vanished. Goku's eyes returned to their normal dark color, and a bright, almost innocent smile spread across his face.
"Ah! Thank God you remembered!" He said it with such genuine relief and warmth, as if greeting an old friend. "I was afraid I'd have to remind you the hard way, and that would have been so messy. This carpet looks expensive."
He turned to the secretary, who was still frozen by the door, her hand over her mouth. "Could you bring us some drinks? Morgan and I are going to have a discussion." His tone was pleasant, conversational. "Coffee for me, if you have it. Black. And whatever Morgan usually has, though maybe make it something strong."
She nodded mutely and fled, grateful for the escape.
Goku clapped his hand once, walked toward the desk, his boots making heavy thuds that echoed in the now-silent room. Each footfall seemed impossibly loud, emphasizing his presence, his power.
Morgan stood frozen, still in his ridiculous thong, as this impossibly tall, impossibly dangerous man approached.
Without asking permission, Goku circled around to the CEO's chair and sat down, putting his boots up on the expensive mahogany desk. He leaned back, entirely comfortable, entirely in control.
"Come on, Morgan," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him, the guest chair, the subordinate's chair. "Hurry, come sit!"
Morgan jumped as if electrocuted and scrambled to obey, not even thinking to put on clothes first. He sat in the chair across from his own desk, hands folded in his lap like a scolded child.
The dominatrix had quietly removed herself to a corner of the room, trying to make herself invisible.
"See, Morgan," Goku began, his tone friendly and casual, "as friends from way back, I need a favor. A rather significant one, actually."
Morgan swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. "What would it be?" His voice cracked on the last word.
Goku removed his boots from the desk and leaned forward, elbows resting on the polished wood. That smile, the one that didn't quite reach his eyes, traced across his face again.
"Well, I'm so glad you asked..."
---
Several Days Later - Capsule Corporation
"I SWEAR I'M GONNA KILL THAT LITTLE KID!!!"
Bulma's voice echoed through her bedroom at Capsule Corporation.
Her phone rang on the desk, vibrating insistently.
Mai glanced at the screen. "Yamcha again."
"Not now!" Bulma snapped, not even looking at it.
"Who are you calling 'little'?" Mai asked, one eyebrow raised.
"SON-KUN! Who else?!" Bulma whirled on her, face flushed with frustration.
"Goku isn't exactly a 'little kid' anymore," Lunch pointed out, sprawled across Bulma's bed. "Did you see his size? He's gotta be over six feet now!"
Mai's eyes widened. She shot up from her chair and clutched at her chest like an innocent maiden, which, to be fair, she essentially was.
"Yesss!" Her voice took on a dreamy quality, her entire demeanor shifting. "He's so big now! And his chest, those shoulders, so broad! I used to cuddle him when he was small!" She hugged herself, eyes distant with the memory. "But when I hugged him at the tournament, I was drowning in his chest. And his arms..." She shivered. "So powerful when they wrapped around me..."
The three other girls stared at her.
"I've barely heard your voice these past few days," Bulma said flatly. "But now you can't stop talking."
Mai blushed deeply, tucking her chin down and pushing her shoulders together, a motion that had the unfortunate or perhaps fortunate, depending on perspective effect of making her breasts more prominent. A small, sly smile played at her lips.
Chi-Chi sighed heavily from her position by the window. "There's so much competition..." Her voice was small, uncertain. "How can I possibly win his heart?"
"You can't," Mai and Lunch said in perfect unison, not even looking at her.
Chi-Chi jerked as if slapped, spinning to face them. "Wh-why?! Am I not attractive enough? Not as pretty as you three?!"
"No, that's not it," Lunch said, examining her nails casually. "He just seems... not interested in anything like that. Or maybe he's a late bloomer. Who knows?"
"Then why are you all still pursuing him if you know he won't give you his heart?" Chi-Chi's voice cracked slightly with genuine confusion and hurt.
Mai and Lunch exchanged a glance, some understanding passing between them. Then Mai spoke, her voice soft and honest.
"Because I just want to be near him. That's enough for me."
Lunch nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Even if nothing romantic happens, just... being in his orbit. It's enough."
Chi-Chi stared at them, trying to understand. She liked Goku, of course she did. He was strong, he'd promised to marry her (sort of), he was handsome. But she barely knew him. And this... this situation where she'd be sharing him, where she'd never be the only one...
Her head filled with doubts, swirling and uncomfortable.
The phone rang again.
"Bulma! Your phone!" Lunch called out, picking it up. "It's not Yamcha this time, unknown number!"
"Okay, answer it." Bulma waved her hand dismissively, still pacing.
Lunch pressed the accept button and put the phone to her ear, deliberately deepening her voice to sound intimidating. "Hello, not-Bulma speaking. Who's this?"
A voice came through the speaker, deeper than her attempted intimidation voice, smooth and warm and unmistakably masculine.
"Hey, Lunch, is that you? How are you doing?"
Lunch's face immediately turned scarlet. Her intimidating posture melted, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Oh... hi, Goku. I'm fine. How are you?"
At the name "Goku," all three other girls' heads snapped around like they were on strings.
Bulma lunged across the room and yanked the phone from Lunch's hand. "SON-KUN! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
A long-suffering sigh came through the speaker. "Can you for once just— anyway. I have a free day today. Let's go on that date you wanted, so that's done."
Bulma's eyes widened to their absolute limits. Her mouth opened, but for a moment, no sound came out. Then, without thinking, she shouted:
"NO!"
Silence from the other end. Then, confused: "What do you mean, no? You don't want the date anymore?"
"NO! I mean yes!" Bulma's face was burning, her thoughts racing.
"Which one?" Goku's voice carried a hint of exasperation.
"Yes, let's do the date! But not today! Tomorrow!" The words tumbled out in a rush.
"What? I call you specifically because today is— you know what, fine. Tomorrow. I don't have the will to argue with you."
"Tomorrow, come pick me up!" Bulma said super fast, her heart hammering. "At noon! No, wait, one o'clock! Actually—"
She hung up before she could make it worse, staring at the phone in her hand like it might explode.
—
On a plain near South City, Goku stood with his phone to his ear, listening to dead air. Behind him, hundreds of people moved about, construction workers, engineers, surveyors. Heavy machinery rumbled in the background.
He looked at his phone, then sighed. "I swear, that girl..."
---
Back at Capsule Corporation, Bulma stood frozen for a moment before a massive smile broke across her face.
She spun toward the other girls, ready to share her excitement, only to find all three of them staring at her with identical expressions of knowing judgment.
"Isn't she with Yamcha?" Mai whispered, just loud enough to be heard.
"Yeah, that means she's cheating on him," Lunch added, shaking her head.
"What a horrible person!" Chi-Chi contributed.
"SHUT UP!" Bulma's face went even redder. "I'm not— it's not— I need to call Yamcha!"
"Oh, so now she wants to call him," Lunch muttered.
"For my PLAN!" Bulma insisted, already scrolling through her contacts. "I have a plan, okay? It's a good plan! A strategic plan!"
"Uh-huh," all three girls said in unison, their skepticism palpable.
---
One Hour Later
Bulma stood on a street corner in West City, dressed in a casual but flattering outfit, designer jeans that hugged her curves, a form-fitting top in azure blue that matched her hair, and heels that added three inches to her height.
She checked her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes.
Across the street, partially hidden behind a newspaper stand, three heads poked out: Mai, Lunch, and Chi-Chi, all wearing comically oversized sunglasses and trench coats that made them look more suspicious than any normal clothing ever could.
"Can you see her?" Mai whispered.
"Yeah, she's still waiting," Lunch confirmed.
"What exactly are we doing?" Chi-Chi asked, confused. "Why are we spying on Bulma's date with Yamcha?"
"Because," Mai said, her voice taking on the tone of someone explaining something obvious, "this isn't actually a date."