In the endless vastness of space, on the edge of the Orion Arm of the Milky Way, a blue planet drifted like a forgotten pearl among the stars.
Earth—marked on the star charts of cosmic warlords as a low-class, worthless world. And it was precisely that "worthlessness" that let it sit quietly on the sidelines of galactic storms, disturbed only rarely by unexpected visitors from the sky.
West City, Capsule Corporation estate.
"Whew—finally finished!"
In a bright laboratory, a girl with short sea-blue hair—Bulma—held up a strange device in excitement.
On its screen, seven blinking points shone clearly across a grid map.
This was the Dragon Radar. By analyzing the unique electromagnetic-like signals the Dragon Balls gave off, she had finally built a detector capable of tracking them.
Ever since she'd found one Dragon Ball in her father Dr. Brief's warehouse—along with ancient records claiming the seven balls could grant any wish—Bulma's adventure spirit had ignited.
She dove into research, deciphering the Balls' signals, and today turned that theory into reality.
"Dad! Mom! My Dragon Radar is done!"
Bulma dashed out, radiant with youthful excitement. "I'm using summer break to find all seven! I'm going to make my wish!"
Her open-minded parents quickly approved the plan.
She packed a whole case of Capsule supplies into her bag, then picked a high-performance car from her father's collection.
"First stop…"
Bulma started the radar. The nearest light was eastward—in the wilderness beyond Paris Town.
"Wilderness east of Paris Town… let's go!"
With the engine roaring, the girl drove out of the city she knew toward a legendary adventure.
Beep. Beep… beep-beep…
A faint electronic chirp pulsed steadily in a hidden mountain valley thick with vines and long abandoned by people.
At the valley's deepest corner, a silver-gray, streamlined ship lay quietly dormant.
Its sleek, futuristic form clashed with the raw jungle around it. Vines and moss had swallowed the hull, while only a few weak indicator lights still blinked stubbornly, proof that it hadn't died completely.
The degree of encroaching nature made it obvious the craft had been here a long time.
Today, that silence was broken by a girl.
VROOOOM—!
A rough engine tear ripped through the valley, sending birds and animals scattering.
"Seriously! I followed the map, so how am I lost again?! Where even is this place?!"
Bulma rode her beloved off-road motorcycle, struggling through jagged terrain and thick vines.
The bike's body was already slashed by sharp branches, making her wince.
"No way! At this rate my collector's bike will be wrecked!"
She stopped, killed the engine, and pulled out her Capsule case. With a soft pop, the motorcycle folded into a capsule.
Just as she reached for a capsule containing a flyer, she froze.
"Hmm? What was that?"
She listened. The wind carried a faint but steady electronic sound.
"Over there?"
Curiosity crushed her frustration.
Bulma pushed through vines, creeping forward. When she shoved aside a huge leaf, the sight made her almost stop breathing.
A massive silver ship—pure sci-fi—rested in the valley like a sleeping steel beast.
Time had half-merged it with the forest, but the unique streamlined hull and flickering signal lights proved it wasn't dead.
And the beeping came from inside.
"T-this is…" Bulma covered her mouth, eyes wide. "A spaceship? And it's been here at least seven or eight years… still has power? This tech is insane!"
She rushed up and cleared the vines around the hatch with scratched hands.
A sealed door emerged.
"This should be the entrance!"
Heart pounding, she drew a small pistol from her bag, then pressed a bump beside the hatch—likely a switch.
Compressed gas hissed. The thick door slid aside, revealing a dark corridor bristling with alien technology.
Bulma tightened her grip and peered in.
Inside were instruments and pipes unlike anything she'd seen, glowing faint blue and green. The quiet felt eerie.
After confirming the entrance area was safe, she took a breath and stepped in.
"This is… the cockpit!"
She soon found the core systems. To her delight, the main console still had energy. She pressed a few buttons experimentally, and the screen lit up.
"Auto-pilot mode… still running? Remaining energy… medium. Enough to keep basic systems online."
Her scientist's hunger for knowledge flared. She dove into the complicated interface, especially a program labeled "Universal Star Map," devouring it like a starving person at a feast.
Only after a long time did she remember to explore further.
She followed the corridor to the rear living quarters. A heavy metal door caught her eye.
"Hibernation chamber?"
She pressed the open panel. The door slid silently aside.
In the center stood a cylindrical pod. A screen above it displayed [9 years 11 months 29 days]—but the numbers weren't changing. The countdown seemed stuck.
"Hibernation pod… wait, is there still an alien inside?"
Her heart jumped. Sweat dampened her hands around the pistol, but a strange instinct pushed her forward.
She circled the pod, checking the ports and lights.
"Power supply normal… life support… active?"
She found a manual release lever, gritted her teeth. "Alright—here goes!"
Bulma yanked the lever down.
HISS—!!!
Cold white gas exploded out of the seams, flooding the room. Bulma stumbled back, pistol aimed at the opening.
The fog thinned. The pod door slid open.
Inside… empty?
No—when the mist fully cleared, she saw someone lying there.
A young man in a tight dark battle suit, spiky black hair, unbelievably handsome.
Eyes closed, chest rising gently, like he was only asleep.
"H-he's human?! And… he's so handsome!!!"
Bulma stared, so shocked her pistol almost dropped.
Vitelli felt like he was drifting in endless darkness, time lost. Somewhere, faintly, a voice was calling him. He frowned, trying to catch it, but it vanished and his consciousness sank again.
Then he felt a light shake.
A clear, curious girl's voice: "Hey! Wake up! Are you alive?"
The darkness split. Memory shards rushed back—Sofu… leaving… ship… hibernation… destination Earth… Earth?!
Alarm blared in his mind. He snapped his eyes open. Long-sleep weakness vanished under a roaring flood of power. Muscles tensed on instinct. His ki, like a waking dragon, erupted.
"Ha—!!"
A massive invisible shockwave blasted outward.
Nutrient fluid sprayed. The metal pod walls groaned. Bulma, closest to him, was hit by an unstoppable force—she yelped and was flung backward, slamming into the wall with a bang, seeing stars. Her pistol flew away.
Vitelli sprang out like a panther and took a combat stance, eyes flashing as he scanned the room.
Still inside the ship… safe. The only "threat" was the blue-haired girl in the corner rubbing her butt and wincing.
Earth? I made it to Earth?
His nerves eased. He looked closer at the girl. Blue hair… a teenager… that familiar face…
"Ow… my butt…" Bulma rubbed the spot, tears in her eyes. Then she glared at him, anger surging past the pain.
"Hey! What's your problem?! Why are you so violent?! I saved you, and you blasted me across the room?! Do you know I found this wrecked ship and you'd be sleeping forever if not for me?! Ungrateful alien!"
Vitelli watched her bristling, and with the blue short hair and lively expression, he confirmed her identity at once.
Bulma.
A core figure of this world. A genius of technology.
But… something about the timeline felt off. She looked about eighteen… which meant this was the start of the Dragon Ball hunt.
"Sorry, sorry," Vitelli said with a warm, disarming smile, stepping forward and offering his hand. "I just woke up, reflex kicked in. Thought you were a bad guy. Really sorry I hurt you."
His smile and apology cooled Bulma's anger—especially that long, strong hand.
She hesitated, cheeks pink, then grabbed it. Vitelli pulled her up easily.
"Hmph! At least you've got a conscience!"
She dusted herself off, still pouting, but her eyes kept darting to his ridiculously handsome face.
Then she noticed a furry tail swaying behind him.
So he is an alien. But… a handsome alien!
Vitelli saw her shift from mad to curious to a little starry-eyed, and couldn't help smirking.
"Hi. I'm Vitelli. Thank you for saving me—there's no way I can repay that…"
He let it hang, watching her widen her eyes, then grinned mischievously.
"How about I repay you by offering myself to you?"
"Sure!" Bulma blurted without thinking—then realized what she'd said and exploded red.
"Y-you jerk! Who wants you to offer yourself?! Pervert! Idiot! Alien creep!"
She stomped in embarrassment.
Vitelli chuckled. "Alright, alright, I'm kidding."
He turned serious. "My name is Vitelli. Seriously, thank you. Bulma, what year is it on Earth right now?"
"How do you know my name?" Bulma blinked, then puffed out her chest proudly. "I'm Bulma, eighteen years old! Summer break! It's Age 749! But—since you promised to repay me…"
Her eyes glittered with mischief. "You'll help, right?"
Vitelli nodded, already expecting this.
Age 749—the year Bulma first set out and met Goku. So his "ten years" sleep had become longer… great.
"Perfect!" Bulma clapped. "I'm searching for the seven Dragon Balls. They can grant any wish. It might get dangerous, so since you owe me…"
She looked him up and down, remembering the shockwave that launched her.
"Be my bodyguard! Protect me until we collect them. That's your repayment. Deal?"
Vitelli didn't hesitate. "Deal. Bodyguard Vitelli at your service, Miss Bulma."
He even bowed, politely—something no Saiyan ever did.
Honestly, refusing your future long-term meal ticket and ultimate support system would be beyond stupid.
They left the ship. Vitelli looked at the jungle-swallowed valley and felt a chill.
What a remote crash site. If he hadn't met Bulma, he really would've slept in that coffin forever.
Bulma popped a capsule and stored the ship away, making Vitelli click his tongue in admiration. "Capsules… insanely convenient."
"This terrain's too rough. We'll use my flyer to leave!"
"No need."
Vitelli smiled, slid an arm around her waist.
"Hey—wait! What are you doing?!"
Bulma squealed as she lifted off the ground.
"Ha, hold on tight. If you fall, don't blame me!"
Vitelli laughed and carried her upward, a streak of light punching through the canopy into open sky.
Wind rushed past, hair and clothes fluttering.
"W-wow! We're flying!" Bulma's fear turned into exhilaration. "You aliens can all fly, huh?"
Vitelli just smiled and changed the subject. "Point the way, Bulma. Where's the next Dragon Ball? Also…"
His stomach rumbled like thunder. "I'm starving. Anywhere to eat? Or should I hunt something?"
Bulma burst out laughing. "Relax, I brought tons of food. Let's land somewhere flat. I'll make you eat till you can't move."
They landed by a river.
Bulma tossed capsule after capsule—out came a lovely house, stacks of wrapped Earth snacks, drinks… a full table.
"Go on, eat! Don't hold back!"
Vitelli's eyes lit up. Earth food! Planet Vegeta's stuff had always been awful. And he hadn't eaten in over a decade.
He dug in like a storm.
Hamburgers? Three per bite. Sandwiches? Three per bite. Whole roast chicken? Gone in one mouthful—bones and all. Rice balls? Poured into a bottomless pit. Juice? One bottle per gulp.
Food vanished before Bulma's eyes. Her grin slowly became slack-jawed disbelief.
Vitelli patted his belly, looking at the empty table and wrappers, then smacked his lips.
"Not bad. Just a little light. Maybe… three-tenths full. Bulma, got more?"
Bulma's jaw nearly hit the floor. She pointed numbly at a row of now-empty giant fridges.
"N-no… it's all gone… that was… enough for a normal person to eat for a month…"
She looked at Vitelli's handsome face, his insane appetite, the terrifying power that had flung her earlier, the tail swaying behind him…
A delirious thought took root:
"Oh my god… is this the husband heaven sent me?! He eats a lot, sure, a normal family couldn't afford him… but he's so hot!"
She clutched her burning cheeks, feeling a weird mix of sweet trouble and feeding-someone-you-like satisfaction.
"Ugh…" She sighed, then brightened. "Guess we'll adjust the plan. Vitelli, tomorrow we go to the nearest town for supplies. Tonight… you'll just have to hold out."
Vitelli nodded. It was fine. Sleep first.
In the skies above Earth, beyond the impossible-to-climb Korin Tower, a mysterious ancient palace floated in the clouds.
On the wide white plaza before it stood two figures, one tall, one short.
The green-skinned Guardian of Earth gripped his staff, face heavy as a storm cloud. His eyes, able to see through the mortal world, were fixed on the distant wilderness below.
More precisely, on the black-haired, tailed young man—Vitelli.
Beside him, Mr. Popo stood silently, unusually serious.
After a long time, the Guardian exhaled as if letting go of a thousand-pound weight. His hand trembled as he wiped sweat from his brow.
"To think… such a terrifying existence could appear in this world…"
His voice carried shock and dryness.
"That burst of ki… so powerful… beyond imagination!"
He watched Vitelli below, chatting with Bulma, even helping clean up with a relaxed smile. The Guardian's nerves loosened slightly.
"Thank goodness… thank goodness…"
He breathed out with lingering fear.
"He seems to have no malice. His ki settled quickly after exploding. With that girl Bulma he seems calm… even casual."
Popo gazed down as well, nodding slowly.
"Yes, Guardian. I felt it too. His ki is overwhelming, but its core… isn't evil. No violence, no thirst for slaughter. Instead… it feels like a kind of deep, time-worn steadiness."
The Guardian looked out over the rolling clouds, worry etched into his ancient eyes.
"Let it be so, Popo. Let this sudden variable be a blessing, not disaster."
He remembered that initial flood of power—pure and immense, far beyond Earth's limits.
It was like a meteor thrown into a still lake, shattering the balance of the world's power.
Was this alien's arrival an accident? Or a turning of unknown fate?
He sighed again, wrinkles deepening.
Earth's future now lay behind a veil he couldn't see through.
All he could do was trust Popo's judgment—that Vitelli truly was as harmless as he seemed.