Galactic Patrol Headquarters
"Captain Gohan, you're back!" The receptionist a tiny girl with a bob cut lit up the moment he stepped into the task hall.
"Mm. I'm here to turn in the bounty. This is Papado's head. As for his brother… I accidentally blew him to bits." Gohan set a sealed container on the counter.
"Understood! Captain Gohan, I've credited the mission points to your comm-band." She moved with practiced speed.
"Thanks. I'm heading out. If a strong opponent pops up, ping me."
"Good-bye, Captain Gohan!"
Three months earlier, Gohan had already come out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. He'd spent exactly one year inside one day outside.
With Super Saiyan 2 achieved, there wasn't much point lingering. The chamber has its limits; at SSJ2 he still couldn't punch through space itself. His plan was to go back in only when he was butting up against the SSJ2 ceiling and ready to leap for Super Saiyan 3.
Besides, mindless grinding doesn't make a complete fighter.
So he left the chamber and headed straight for Galactic Patrol HQ.
In the three months since, he'd mowed through the most-wanted list. Of the top hundred, anyone not sealed away was either hauled in alive, reduced to a head… or turned into a stain on the ground.
With Instant Transmission the ultimate Swiss-army skill his completion speed bordered on absurd.
Breaking into SSJ2 had also kicked his base power into another gear. In just three months he'd surged from fifteen million to over a hundred million. At full output as SSJ2, his power hovered around ten to eleven billion (by the old Earth math). He'd mastered the initial state of SSJ2 to perfection.
Again he couldn't help admiring this body it shattered bottlenecks like they were tissue paper. No wonder the Gohan of the original timeline, even without a true warrior's drive, kept pace with the main cast; later, in the "Super" era, he'd even push into that bestial form on par with Super Saiyan Blue.
"Hey, Merus." Gohan wandered up to his mentor, thoughts still humming.
"Back already?"
"Yeah. Kinda bored no worthy targets lately."
"Heh." Merus flicked his wrist. A light screen bloomed into a projection a familiar round saucer gliding through the void.
"Frieza? …No. That's Ginyu." Gohan's brows went up.
"Right. He's got King Cold with him. They're headed for Earth," Merus said.
"He's picking a fight? Did he take a blow to the head? I let him be and he comes looking for me?"
"He's not dumb far from it. He trained like a madman these past three months, fully adapted to Frieza's body, and pulled that form's power to the limit. He's about ten times stronger than the Frieza you fought. There's one more bad bit of news Vegeta is dead."
Gohan's face hardened. "Vegeta's dead? How?"
"The proud fool's battle power wasn't even on par with Frieza's first form, but he still marched on King Cold's HQ. Later, anger pushed him into a Pseudo Super Saiyan surge, but he still died to Ginyu."
"…That does sound like him." Gohan exhaled. "How long till they arrive?"
"Soon. About ten days. If you hadn't gotten back in time, I was going to ping you."
"Ten days is plenty." Gohan didn't waste a second he teleported straight home.
Mount Paozu
"Auntie Chi-Chi, has Gohan come back yet?" Videl looked up with those guileless, watery eyes so big her irises seemed to float. Chi-Chi's own eyes had gone a little red around the rims.
"Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. That brat ditched school wait till he gets back and I give him a proper lesson!" Chi-Chi scooped Videl into a hug, patting her back, soothing and fierce at once.
School had started up again a month after Gohan settled things in the underworld. Two months of no-shows later, Videl thought he'd dropped out, so she pestered Mr. Satan (yes, that Mr. Satan) into flying her to Mount Paozu in his jet.
This was her fourth trip in three months.
"Auntie Chi-Chi, does Gohan not want to be friends with me anymore? Uu-uuu…" The more she spoke, the smaller her voice got, until she just sobbed.
"There, there of course he wants to be your friend. When he gets back, I will absolutely straighten him out," Chi-Chi promised.
"Sweetie, we should head home," Mr. Satan added helplessly. "You've got school tomorrow. We'll come back in a couple of days, okay?" He'd opposed these trips at first, but Videl's earnest, dopey-cute face had pierced his ironclad heart.
(Also, unlike a certain timeline, Chi-Chi didn't bristle at their first meeting. Videl was still just a kid polite, adorable, a walking bundle of "aww." Chi-Chi melted on the spot. It even strengthened her resolve: time to have another baby preferably a girl. Looked like Goten might arrive early. As for Trunks… who knew where he was right now.)
Fwip!
"Eh? Videl? What are you doing here?" Gohan blinked at the scene he'd warped into.
"Gooohan you're finally back! Why didn't you visit me all summer? Uu-uuu!!" She wriggled free of Chi-Chi and flung herself at him, crying in earnest.
"Whoa w-wait, don't cry what's even happening!" Gohan's hands fluttered uselessly.
"Son Gohan, why did you cut class? Give me one good reason I shouldn't tan your hide." Chi-Chi's smile was all teeth.
"Ah Mom? School started? Sorry I… forgot." Only then did it hit him. Right. School.
"It's not just skipping school!" Videl puffed her rosy cheeks. "You didn't come see me either! Auntie Chi-Chi, help me punish him!"
"You little punk my girl cried for days because of you!" Mr. Satan clenched a fist in fatherly outrage.
Chi-Chi couldn't hold it back any longer. She seized Gohan by the ear tug and with the other hand began a metronomic correction right where Saiyan pride is softest.
Smack. "For ditching school!"
Smack. "For staying out all night!"
Smack. "For making Videl cry!"
Smack "And "
"Mom what was that one for?" Gohan squawked, face burning.
"Do I need a reason to discipline my own son? You dare talk back?"
SmackSmackSmackSmack!
Her hand blurred, afterimages trailing.
Being spanked by your own mom in front of a girl Gohan wanted the earth to swallow him whole. But what could he do? It was his mom. He endured.
"Hmph! That's for fooling me." Videl huffed, then, seeing his embarrassment, wilted with sympathy. "Auntie Chi-Chi… maybe that's enough?"
"Don't worry, sweetheart. This brat's all steel and sinew. A few swats won't hurt him." Chi-Chi only swung harder.
Truly: the Iron Palm of a loving mother, raining down on a wayward son twelve swats a second, every one a critical hit.
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