While they flew in peace, the dead old man's words stubbornly clung to Gohan, repeating over and over in his inner ears. The old man had assumed King Yemma had sent someone to deliver judgment, and that someone was a teenage boy. He had genuinely desired to repent, and he had cared about his poor workers at least to a very limited extent. He hadn't deserved to die. He had enough time left to change.
Gohan thought, I should've swam under the yacht and cut a hole to steal the dragon ball. I didn't think they would shoot bullets so carelessly.
But Gohan couldn't bury the truth; he had stood there and watched the bullet pierce through. Why? Such hesitation hadn't held him back since the time on Namek. He could've easily caught the bullet at any millisecond. He hadn't thought straight, an instinctual mistake—like when he had drawn out the fight against Cell.
18's voice cut into his trance, "Did you hear me?"
"Sorry, I was just thinking."
"About?"
He mumbled into the wind, "The old man who got killed because of me."
"You're still moping over that old geezer?" She brushed hair out of her eyes. "Get over it. He got what was coming to him. I'm pretty sure his company is Torman Textiles. They have a history of fraud and labor disputes. They're under investigation for using forced child labor right now. No wonder he was hiding on his boat."
"Where did you hear that?"
"I am a model," she said, smirking. "It's important for my image to not wear anything… controversial."
"That makes sense, but it's still not right. We should've taken him to the police."
She looked at him bleakly. "Gohan, maybe I should take you to the police for holding me down and having—"
"Okay, Okay, I'll get over it." He breathed a chest-full of warm, salty air. "So what were you saying before?"
"I want to know how much longer we have to fly."
The dragon radar turned on with a beep. The battery symbol was three-quarters shaded in; it had been full this morning. Gohan turned down the screen brightness to minimum lux, then zoomed in on the map. There were no topographical lines out here in the Great Eastern Ocean, also known as the Great Western Ocean, depending on whom one asked. The ocean was massive, more than a third of Earth's surface area. All blue. The one-star ball was on one of several lonely, minuscule islands. At least it wasn't underwater.
"Excellent, we're almost there," 18 said. "Once we have it, we'll go directly to West District. I think we'll have all seven in a few hours."
He nodded in excitement. "We'll have your and 17's implants out first thing." The digital interfaces in their brains, the off-switches in their spines, and… Gohan blinked twice, looking at her. "I remember Bulma said you get your energy from a perpetual reactor. You're going to leave that in, right? We'll have to say our wish very carefully."
She also blinked at him. "Where did Bulma hear that?"
"Krillin didn't tell you? Trunks found your blueprints in the bunker where Cell was created. You get your physical strength and durability from your cellular modifications, but your energy comes from a small reactor somewhere in your chest."
"I don't believe I do. Let me check." Her face suddenly blanked. She stared at the horizon for thirty seconds. "The digital interface shows me the status of my three implants. It gives an error on the bomb, and I don't see any energy reactors. I can't find anything in my files on it either. As far as I know, my energy comes from my cells, just like you."
A worried frown creased Gohan's brow. "Maybe the interface isn't connected to the reactor."
She said assuredly, "Doctor Gero would've mentioned it. He did like to brag about his work. Those blueprints must've been an old version."
"He didn't mention Cell to you."
"That's true."
Curiosity urged him to keep asking: "Do you have your blueprints in your files?"
"No."
"Anything about the primal energy of the universe?"
Her head shook. "Can you ask Shenron without using a wish?"
"I'm… I'm not sure. I'll ask him if I can ask without spending a wish." Gohan laughed.
She chuckled lightly.
The island finally came into view. Surrounding a lagoon, the land had some grass and bushes, a clump of palm trees, and many craggy boulders. Beaches were wide. The water here was shallow turquoise. Rising air was hot, the sun directly overhead. With his fingers, Gohan measured the island to be over four times the area of Orange Star High's campus. This was a great place for a secret getaway. A secret summer home.
And there, on the north-facing beach, a sparkle of orange pulled 18 to the ground like a magnet. The ball had washed up, tangled in seaweed. Lucky. She held it over her head—a trophy. She whistled. The look she gave him was pure joy, loving even. She took off, pocketing the ball. Her track suit jacket's pockets were getting full. "Let's go."
"I'll race you to the coast," he said excitedly, boyishly.
"Sure." Her fingers ran though his hair.
Their flight resumed eastward at top speed; well, maybe her top speed, although Gohan had a feeling she was only playing with him like he was with her. They constantly overtook each other, weaving around low-hanging clouds, laughing in the wind like never before. He hadn't enjoyed life this munch in years, since Father had died. And her? He wanted to think she was enjoying this just as much. She definitely was, more so when the sun set behind them, tinting the skies golden-orange. Their race mellowed under the stars.
Eventually, mountain peaks rose above the horizon, fading in under moonlight. The western coastline was mostly cliffs and jagged rocks among the waves. Winds were fierce, suddenly colder. A small fishing town was at the mouth of a fjord. A group of people were having a party of sorts in the woods. Gohan didn't sense a single person with a significant energy level.
18 drifted close to him, her fingers brushing against his. "Are you cold in that?"
"My aura warms the air just right."
"Hmph, isn't that useful. You need to teach me how to do that."
His head tilted. "It's easy. Just focus your energy in your body. Like when you're trying to raise your fighting power."
With a scowl, she sustained a throaty grunt. A few arcs of electricity sparked at her fists and down her body, but she didn't manifest an energy aura. She exhaled. "Like that?"
"Yeah, but…" He scratched his chin.
"But it doesn't work with my energy. Oh well. I can live without being a walking light show." She rolled her shoulders, stretched her neck and arms. Focusing energy had tired her. Her reserves were infinite in capacity but not in throughput. Her face promptly returned to a relaxed expression. "How much further?"
He was about to thumb the radar's power switch when he saw it was still on; the screen was off, sleeping. He tapped the zoom-in button, and the screen lit up. The battery icon was less than half shaded-in, about 40%. Damn. The race with 18 had reduced his brain to mashed potato.
There was good news; the dragon ball was a mile away, at a mountain's base, in a forest. And even better news; one of the moving balls had stopped at Central City in the king's palace; King Furry was a very reasonable guy. North-west of Central City, the last stationary ball by the Cell Games arena was untouched. The final ball was on route to North City. This wasn't going to take long at all.
18's hand gently whacked Gohan's arm. "You forgot to turn it off, didn't you?"
"Uh, maybe." He made sure to thumb the power button before rushing ahead. The trees here were different, skinnier and pointier. A couple he recognized as pine trees. He knew the name for the others but couldn't recall—not a good look for an aspiring biologist. Oops.
The six-star ball was inside a leafy bush. Squeaking, a pair of rats scurried from his approach. He grabbed the ball, then launched back into the sky. Four down. Three to go.
18 said, "Good work. Maybe I will keep you around after this is over after all."
His heart sank into his guts.
"I'm joking. You should see your face." She smirked. "Now, let's go."
His heart stuttered in relief. He followed and tried to act unfazed: "Haha, I know."
Her playful demeanor suddenly vanished. "Are you sure about this? You'll never grow old while you'll have to watch those around you grow old and pass on. You'll have to fake your death every other decade and go into hiding. Have you thought about any of this? And you'll do it all for me, your teenage crush?"
He answered a bit too quickly, "I've already said yes."
Her eyes closed. "Take a moment to think, Gohan."
The forests thinned. The landscape gradually flattened. The answer didn't budge in his head. "I'm sure of it. All for you, 18."
"Alright then, I hope you don't regret this one day."
"If I do, we can always work something out. It's no problem."
She chuckled. "No problem."
They skirted dangerously close to the Lookout. Gohan wondered if Dende and Piccolo were awake. Probably not, but there was a chance. The clouds were dense, and an invisible mystical aura of sorts prevented Gohan from getting a clear sense of their energies. Everything up there was a smudge. If they were watching right now, reading his mind, then so be it.
They approached a lake and a nearby village. Their houses were little more than wooden huts. Roads were just compacted dirt. No signs of modern technology. No lights. Sights like these were common far out in the countryside.
But a man lying face-down on the path was not. His life energy was very low, near death, barely stable. Rays of moonlight filtering through the clouds shined on his slightly bloodied tunic. Inside the village, there were others in similar states, and as Gohan flew closer, he sensed everyone in the village was near death.
Gohan landed in a grassy field next to a shirtless man. His energy was very slowly recovering. The stab wound in his back was half an inch in diameter and perfectly circular. Strangely, it looked like the wound had healed quite a lot, not just a coagulation. There was little blood spill.
Gohan nudged the man's head. "Hey, can you hear me?"
Totally out.
"How is he?" 18 asked.
"Slowly recovering. They'll all recover." He nudged again.
18 said,"Don't wake him."
"But I want to know what happened."
"Why? This is obviously some gang's doing. It's basically lawless this far away from the cities."
Gohan crouched by to the man. "Look at this stab wound. It's almost healed, and a lot of the blood is still wet."
"I saw."
"You don't think that's strange?"
18 huffed. Her weight shifted to her other leg. "You clearly don't go exploring far enough. The world's full of weird, magical things. Do you know there used to be a mountain that was perpetually on fire? Have you forgotten about your senzu beans? The dragon balls? And one of my files say your dad had a magical flying nimbus." She pointed at the man's wound. "This has to be some weird magic as well. You said he'll be fine, so I don't see why we should waste time here. If you want, we can come back after we've made our wishes."
Gohan thought about it for a half minute while the man's energy level trickled upward. No one here was dead. Nothing was destroyed. This wasn't like Ginger Town when Cell made his first move. Gohan nodded, saying, "Yeah, I think you might be right. We can't deal with every little problem we fly over."
"Then let's go. It should be sunrise at Central City by now."
Before taking off, he looked at the stab wound one last time. If it was of concern, then Dende and Piccolo would notice this in the morning and investigate. 18 was right. There was no point in wasting time here. His aura reignited. He soared into the skies with muddy feet—annoying.