The bathroom door flew open.
Bulma stepped out, looking like she had just wrestled a crocodile in a car wash.
Her clothes were soaked through, her hair was plastered to her forehead, and water dripped from her nose.
She was trembling, but not from the cold.
She was in a state of profound physiological shock.
It moved her mind repeated on a loop.
It has muscle density. It has a pulse. It's... connected to his coccyx.
"Wow!"
Goku followed her out, shaking his wet hair like a dog, sending a fresh spray of water across the room. He looked clean, fluffy, and incredibly refreshed.
"That warm rain is amazing! I feel so light!"
"G-Glad you liked it." Her voice sounded distant and hollow.
She turned to look at him.
Or rather, at his backside.
The tail gave a happy little twitch.
Bulma shuddered.
"Right, one important addendum." She shook her head, forcing her brain back to the present.
"This house is a single model. One bedroom, one bed. And i'm not sharing with you."
She pointed to the closet.
"I'll set up an inflatable mattress for you in the living room. But first..." She looked down at her drenched outfit.
"I need to sanitize myself. Urgently."
"Okay, i'll wait here."Goku beamed.
He wandered back over to the television, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"Is the little man still there?"
...
"Yes, Goku. The little man is still there."
Bulma grabbed a towel and retreated back into the bathroom, locking the door.
The hot water embraced her like a second skin. Bulma sank deeper into the foam, letting the steam work its magic on her tense muscles.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Finally.
For the first time all day, her brain had a moment to catch up with reality.
She stared at the ceiling, analyzing the situation.
Technically, the mission was already a partial success. She had proven the Dragon Radar worked. She had tracked an anomalous energy signature to a precise location and found physical evidence, the four star ball.
I could just go back, i could drive back to Empire city right now, slam the ball on Dad's desk, and say, "See? I told you the energy signature was matter bound"
But there was a problem. A spiky-haired, tail-wagging problem currently watching TV in her living room.
He would never give up the sphere. For him, it wasn't an artifact, it was his grandfather's legaf
And I'm stuck with him.
Stealing it was off the table. She knew his capabilities now. If she tried anything funny, there would be no warning shots this time.
He would simply kill her.
Fine. He'll be useful. A bodyguard until I gather all seven. By then, I'll figure out a way to detach him from his precious "Grandpa."
Bulma stepped out of the shower with steam clinging to her skin.
She wrapped a plush white towel around her body and stood before the vanity mirror, rubbing the dampness from her teal hair.
A soft chime broke the silence.
The surface of the mirror rippled, a communication interface overlaying her reflection.
A notification icon pulsed in the corner.
It was nearly 10:00 PM.
The list of people who dared call her this late was short: her parents.
Bulma tapped the acceptance key.
The blue hologram flickered, projected from emitters in the frame, and stabilized.
The image was ultra-high definition. A glass-walled office high above Empire city, the metropolis lights blurring into a bokeh of neon in the background. And in the center, seated behind an desk, was Vellura Starch.
"Bulma."
"Mom."
Vellura didn't blink.
She tapped a finger against her armrest.
"I hope you have a compelling explanation, darling. Because right now, I have two problems on my desk. One, you unilaterally fired Dr. Wrench from Laboratory 7. Two, you've been missing from the grid for seventy-two hours."
"That's easy to explain." Bulma said, leaning back against the sink and crossing her arms over the towel.
"First off, Wrench was an incompetent prick. He called dad a lunatic to my face and tried to scrap my project without clearance. He was a liability."
She flicked a strand of wet hair from her face.
"And second? I'm not missing. I'm in the field. I'm proving that the project he tried to bury is actually the biggest discovery of the century."
Vellura didn't look impressed.
She let out a long, weary sigh, the kind that only a mother and a CEO can produce.
"Wrench didn't act without clearance, Bulma. I gave the order to cut the funding."
Bulma froze.
The confidence was drained from her posture.
"You... what? Why?"
"Because Capsule Corporation is not a charity for family hobbies, i am strictly against nepotism. I run this company on meritocracy. If a project bleeds money without results, I cut it. It doesn't matter if the lead researcher is a stranger or my own daughter."
Vellura leaned forward, interlacing her fingers on the desk.
"I understand your motivation. I know you want to prove your father's theories were sound. But you do not have the right to storm into Laboratory 7 in secret, siphon off a chunk of the quarterly budget, and vanish into the wilderness."
Bulma snapped, stepping closer to the hologram.
"I didn't steal anything. This corporation is mine, too!"
"And that, is where you are wrong." Vellura interrupted, her voice sharp as a razor
"You think ownership is a birthright? No. That is not how things work in the real world. Until you sit in this chair, that money belongs to the shareholders. And right now, you are looking less like an heiress and more like a liability."
Bulma's mouth opened, a retort already loaded, and then stalled. Heat rushed to her face, equal parts fury and humiliation. For a split second, she looked like she might scream, but then she remembered. She was getting results.
"Does a liability successfully secure one of the anomalous signatures, Mom?"
Vellura's expression didn't shift by a millimeter.
She simply tapped the desk again.
"Elaborate."
"Maybe I skipped a few steps in the employee handbook, sure. But I'm doing this to restore the Starch legacy. To prove Dad wasn't a madman. I'm doing this to bring power back to our name."
She looked away from the hologram, staring at the floor.
"You're going to laugh at me."
"Try me."
"The energy source... They are orbs. Glass-like, high density. Orange, with stars floating inside them."
She braced herself for the mockery. For the lecture on hallucinations or stress-induced fatigue.
But Vellura didn't laugh.
She simply studied her daughter's face.
She knew Bulma could be impulsive, arrogant, and reckless.
But she wasn't a liar. Not when it came to data.
"How many do you have?"
"Just one, but I calibrated the radar to its specific frequency. It's just a matter of time before I triangulate the others."
"This is an extraction mission in hostile territory, it is extremely dangerous to conduct an expedition like this alone."
"I'm not alone. I hired... protection."
"Protection?"
"A mercenary." Bulma lied smoothly, the image of the wild boy with the tail flashing in her mind.
"Local talent. Highly competent. He... specializes in close-quarters combat."
Vellura processed this in silence. She looked down at something on her desk, then back at the hologram.
"You have one week."
Bulma blinked.
"One week for what?"
"To produce results. To bring me something that justifies the chaos you've caused."
Vellura leaned into the camera lens.
"Your little tantrum earned us a massive lawsuit from Dr. Wrench for wrongful termination. And the Board? They want your head on a platter for firing one of the company's golden goose without a vote."
Vellura's eyes narrowed.
"Find these orbs, Bulma. Prove their worth. Because if you come back empty-handed in seven days, I won't be able to save you from the Board. Do you understand?"
The words sat heavy in her chest, but she nodded anyway.
"Yes. I understand."
"Good."
Bulma's hand hovered near the control panel, thumb resting over the disconnect command. She hesitated, then looked back up at her mother's face.
"Before you go, Mom... can I cash in one last favor?"
Vellura raised an eyebrow.
"You are already in debt up to your neck. What is it?"
"I'll need more Hoi-Poi capsules. If I'm going to pull this off in a week, my standard field kit won't be enough. I need access to the capsule vault."
Vellura checked her watch, doing a silent calculation of risk versus reward.
"I will authorize a single transmission batch. Maximum payload, five kilograms."
"Five? That's tight, but I can make it work."
"Power up your portable teleporter and send your requisition manifest to Pliers in the warehouse. He will handle the encapsulation and the transfer to your coordinates."
Vellura leaned closer to the camera.
"Keep in mind that a single pulse of the matter transporter burns ten million zeni in energy costs alone. That doesn't even include the price of the prototype capsules you are undoubtedly going to request."
The hologram began to fade, the blue light flickering as the connection timed out.
"Do not disappoint me."
Bulma watched the image dissolve, leaving her alone with her reflection.
The tension should have crushed her, but instead, a spark of pure adrenaline lit up her eyes.
She grinned at the empty air.
"I won't."