The Southern Ocean was quite tropical during this time of year, and the five-star ball was hovering at a latitude where it would be slightly chillier, due south of an island labeled as Penguin Village. Gohan had his fingers crossed, hoping for the ball to be in the grasp of a big octopus or simply caught in seaweed. He wasn't in the mood to deal with thugs.

Today, however, wasn't so lucky. Gohan cut off his aura, and the salty breeze hit him head-on.

On the horizon, on tranquil water, four vessels were anchored. There were three gray armored boats with mounted machine guys. Bulky men wearing black bullet-proof vests lazed about on the decks, their military-style rifles ready to be picked up any second. The armored boats flanked a white luxury yacht of sorts, which was much less intimidating; a few ladies sunbathed on the top deck, sipping from wine glasses.

A man on the nearest armored boat looked up, seemed to notice something. His energy level was twice that of Bulma's. He picked up his rifle… but then put it back down, probably thinking he saw a pair of large birds. He said something to his buddy, who was reading a book. They laughed. Zero alarm. It didn't look like anyone down there could sense energy.

Gohan dashed the remaining distance and landed on the yacht's deck. 18 was half a second behind.

The young ladies yelped. Their bikinis were modest. Gohan couldn't stop from noticing they weren't as sexy as 18, not even close.

A couple of men, in their late twenties, had jumped to their feet. They wore white polo shirts and brown swimming shorts. The taller guy with a straw hat pulled a handgun and said in a strong voice, "Who are you two?" His thumb flicked a tiny switch on the gun.

Gohan said, "I'm Gohan, and we're looking for a dragon ball. Have you seen one around?"

"Dragon what?"

"Dragon ball," Gohan said clearly. "It's orange and should be about three inches big."

The gun didn't lower. "I think you're on the wrong yacht, kid." His words were confident, and his energy, albeit wavering with confusion and minor fear, wasn't quivering like a liar's would. That, or he was a skilled liar.

But the shorter man with neck-length hair had reacted to Gohan's description. His bulging eyes gave it all away.

The taller man motioned with the gun, saying, "Did you hear me? I said you're on the wrong yacht. Do that magic trick of yours and leave. You're not welcome here."

Gohan tried again in a nicer voicer, "I'm sure it's here, on this boat. You see, I have this new hi-tech radar. The five-star ball should be a few yards below us slightly to the left. It may have gotten caught in the trash or something. Can we please check?"

"Shoot them," the shorter man said.

"What?" one of the ladies whispered, "he's a teenager."

"Quiet." The shorter man made a hideous face at her. "We're on lawless waters. This happens all the time. Just shoot them, and we'll toss the bodies overboard."

Indecision stiffened the taller man's energy.

"Come on," Gohan said, "I'm sure we can work something out. We need them now, but you can use them again after a year."

The shorter man barked, "Shoot them, Jeremy."

But Jeremy couldn't do it. The gun's barrel jittered while his index finger trembled.

18 dramatically sighed, stepping forward. "We don't have all day. Hand over the dragon ball or this boat is going to sink."

Gohan wasn't sure if her threat was a bluff. There was a significant chance that she was serious.

Jeremy, although indecisive, was still confident; he chuckled. "You should hear yourself talk, Lazuli. Yeah, I recognize you now. You're that insane model from Hercule City, always going around bragging how you've been in gun fights and shit. Didn't know you were also into magic tricks."

18 wasn't fazed.

"I don't care who she is," the shorter man said with menace, then stamped his foot on the deck and roared, "Shoot them! Security, wake up! Shoot the two blonds!"

For them, the next seconds must've been utter chaos. But for Gohan, he saw it all happen in full detail as though time slowed a hundred-fold. The ladies ran to the deck's edges. The cabin's double-doors opened, and out came two men with rifles, followed by an old man in a suit. The security men took aim without hesitation just as Jeremy pulled his gun's trigger.

Bang!

The ladies yelped as a red-hot bullet flew toward Gohan's face. Backhanding, he deflected it. A window shattered, and someone shrieked like a dying cat. But why? No one was hurt. The first pieces of glass landed when Gohan sensed a security man's intention to open fire. Gohan pointed with his index finger, shot a narrow line of energy. The rifle broke with a loud pop. Weaker shots knocked away the other rifle and Jeremy's gun. An invisible wave of Gohan's energy sent everyone to their knees and bottoms.

Everything stopped.

Fear. Their energy signatures pulsated with fear. They shielded themselves with whatever they could find, one with a parasol, another with a sunbathing chair. One of the ladies jumped overboard. Jeremy was crouching under a table. The shorter man was in the fetal position, his hands covering his head. Both security men, however, were braver, ready for hand-to-hand combat in wrestling stances. The old man calmly stood up, not as afraid.

Someone from another boat shouted, "What's happening up there?!"

A few whimpered, but none responded.

18 said, "Hand over the dragon ball."

More whimpering. More tight lips. Until the old man said, "You. You were the boy from the Cell Games with the powers. Yes, I see the resemblance. You and your group fought Cell."

That almost caught Gohan off guard. "We were. What about it?"

"They said it was all tricks. All smoke and mirrors. I never believed them, and now that I have seen it with my own eyes, I know Hercule Satan is lying. It was you lot who killed Cell, and it was you lot who used the dragon balls to bring back the dead. I know because I was among the dead. I was a disembodied spirit. I saw a sea of clouds and a great metal snake. I saw the lord of the afterlife; he was a giant man with horns. They said we are all suffering from mass hysteria. Am I hysterical? Don't lie to me."

Gohan gave a small nod. "Everything you said is true. The giant man's name is King Yemma. You must've been waiting in line when you were wished back. You would've been judged. If you've killed anyone without good reason, you know where you'll go."

The fear in their energy had dwindled. Their disbelief now swirled.

The old man's energy mellowed and thinned. Acceptance. Defeat. His eyes closed. "I am sorry."

A moment passed, and Gohan glanced at 18 (who was very bored) before saying, "You're sorry?"

"If I could rewind time, I would live differently. I am sorry for all I have done. Judge me as you will."

Now it made sense. Gohan walked up to the old man. "That's King Yemma's job, not mine. I'm only here for the dragon ball, and you're not dead yet, so you still have time. My teacher Piccolo was once as evil as Cell, but he changed and lived to protect the people of Earth. When he died, he was rewarded."

The old man's head shook. "It is too late for me. I am close to the end of my life."

"So you're looking for the dragon balls to live forever?"

A pained nod. "This is one wish."

18 asked, "And your other wishes?"

"My company is in financial trouble." His sigh was raspy. "We will need to file for bankruptcy by next year if our situation doesn't improve. Many jobs are on the line, tens of thousands. We produce raw textiles. Most of our workers are from poor families in rural areas. It would be devastating to them."

"I'm sure they'll find a way to survive," 18 said dismissively. "It sounds like you're finding excuses to keep yourself rich. Be honest, you should've just said your wish is a million tons of gold and saved some breath."

Also wanting to get a move on, Gohan followed her cue: "I have to agree. Do you have any other wishes? If not, we'll be taking the dragon ball. I don't think it'd be right of us to let you make those wishes."

The old man's eyes unfocused, gazing off over Gohan's shoulder. His wrinkles deepened. "Those are my only wishes." A scowl emerged. His energy simmered and boiled. "It saddens me that the gods can be this heartless. Why did you not kill Cell earlier? Why is there so much suffering in the world? What is the point to all this madness? I refuse to be judged in this twisted game of yours! You are not my god, boy!"

Jeremy said, "What are you talking about? The girl's a model from Hercule City. Her name's Lazuli. They're tricksters! The kid obviously has lasers hidden up his sleeves!" His energy burned hotter than a pizza oven. He raised his handgun, pulled the trigger five times.

Finger waving back and forth, Gohan deflected every bullet. Windows shattered. Deck boards splintered. The fifth bullet met his finger at a wide angle, bounced toward the old man's head, ripped into jelly-like skin. Bone snapped. Blood sprayed. The bullet was in the brain.

Gohan watched all life depart from the old man's face. The body's energy signature quickly faded.

One security man threw himself at Gohan, who simply took flight. The second security man had his rifle back. He didn't have a chance to aim before 18 threw a small energy blast into the cabin, away from people. The detonation was weak, but the other boats still capsized, and the yacht burst into flames from within. A plume of black smoke rose into the heavens. They all were screaming, all terrified. Two lifeboats inflated. Three energy signatures weakened.

No deaths… other than the old man.

Numb inside, Gohan spotted a glimmer of brilliant orange in the wreckage. He flew in, snagged the five-star ball, and flew out. He coughed once. The fumes were overwhelming, even for him.

18 was waiting for him high in the sky. "Anyone killed? Other than the old guy." There was some concern in her voice.

"A few are injured."

"Badly?"

Gohan's head shook.

"Then they'll be fine," she said. Her silvery-blue eyes gleamed with flecks of red and black.

He sighed. "But did you have to do that?"

"Of course. You heard that guy. We're in lawless waters. Think about how many corpses they must've thrown overboard already. If anything, I did them a favor by keeping their records cleaner for when they die. Maybe they'll reconsider their life choices after this." She crossed her arms. She had a tiny smirk.

He weighed her justification for a long moment with cold logic. He mostly agreed. "Alright, but what about your modeling career? Jeremy will tell people what you did."

"How many people will believe him?"

"I guess not enough for it to matter."

"Then we don't have a problem." 18 stowed the five-star ball into a front pocket of her track suit jacket. She took hold of his hand. Her fingers weren't sweaty like his. "Gohan, it's like you said; you're not King Yemma. It's not your job to be the arbitrator of what's right and wrong. The old guy's death was an accident. What's done is done, so let's go... but for you, I'll try to hold back more." She smiled softy.

Good enough. He returned the smile, and together they flew north-east. Two balls down. Five to go.