Chapter 7: A New Martial Arts School
Meanwhile back in the Dragonball dimension . . .
The cafe was relatively crowded, and with the four of them sitting in the back that worked to their favor, for no one would really overhear. "Okay, Yamcha, tell us, why did you ask us here?" Krillin asked somewhat annoyed. Number 18 had been pretty pissed he had gone to meet his friends, and Krillin was equally pissed as he remembered what 18 had been wearing and what she had been planning for the afternoon. Of course she had been placated somewhat when he give her his ATM card, and told she could go shopping - he really needed to make some more money somehow he thought, shuddering at the possibility of how much 18 would use up.
"Yeah," Chaozu added, and Tien nodded in agreement. "Why /did/ you call us here?"
"I've got an idea! A fantastic one!" Yamcha said with a bright smile, grinning at them.
After a moments silence, Tien grumbled, "Well, what is it!?"
"We start a Martial Arts school," Yamcha replied with a triumphant grin. The three warriors looked at him somewhat dubiously. "Come on, guys, think about it. Hardly anyone but us knows ki control, and those that do can't go anywhere /near/ our mastery of it, it's time we passed on our knowledge. After all, none of us will live forever, one day we'll be old and grey and die, and who will protect this world then if another Freeza, or Cell comes along, huh? Plus, if we lower our prices below the Satan school, do some commercials then we'll get some tough fighters who can't afford the hack, and when they beat the Satan students with ease, everyone will come to our school; we'll preserve our abilities for future generations /and/ make a bundle in the process. We start with two dojos, across the city, two senseis per dojo at first."
"Hmm," Krillin stated thinking out loud. "You know Yamcha, you might actually be onto something, especially if we get Bulma to install us some gravity plating, for a small piece of the profits, we could actually, /truly/ train people."
Tien and Chaozu seemed to start to like the idea. "Great idea!" Yamcha said with a grin, before adding, "Then when some of our students are masters themselves they can branch out to other city's and start their dojo, thus turning this into an actual school. He - or she - will get to keep most of the profits, but a part has to go to the main branch, namely us."
"I'm in," Tien answered with a slight smile. He usually stayed in the wilderness constantly training, but it seemed he could be training now as well, while giving lessons. Not to mention access to gravity plating, he had found increasing his strength from a Super Human onward without multiple times Earth's gravity was difficult - it was extremely hard to find a way to make his body strain.
"So am I, although I'd have confer with 18 /and/ find a way to keep my training with Vegeta a possibility without eating up even more of my life," Krillin said thoughtfully.
"That leaves only one thing: what are we going to call it?" Chaozu asked with curiosity and excitement.
"The Yamcha Style School of Martial Arts," Yamcha answered, and the other three looked at him with deadly stares. "Just kidding guys, I don't really have a name yet."
"The Turtle Style School of Martial Arts," Krillin answered with certainty. "Honor the master who trained the greatest hero this world had."
The four friends looked at each other, and then grinned, remembering their deceased friend, Son Goku, then they nodded. "All right, Krillin, you hurry up with 18, so we can bring the idea to the head of Capsule Corp," Yamcha grinned deeply.
*****
"NOO!" 18 screamed walking out of Krillin's small house and smashed the door behind her. The two were standing outside in the suburb of the city now, and 18 didn't seem to care. "You're already so often away training with that /monkey/. Now instead of five days a week more than half the day, you'll be out till late at night, and possibly every day! How the hell am I supposed to see you, I already have an hour flight from my brother's cabin in the woods here, we can't see each other every day already, we'll never have time for each other!"
"18," Krillin said gently, taking on of her hands, "I might be home a little less often, but so does every other guy or girl out there that has a full time job. I'll convince Vegeta to come to the dojo, instead of I to his home, perhaps I can convince him even to be a sensei, that way we can train in between classes." 18 looked annoyed, but Krillin hadn't let her down yet, and he was right about the full time job, and she knew he had expenses to pay for his house, and she remembered the balance on his ATM while she had been shopping, which wasn't that much. She grumbled childishly, taking her arm away and folding her arms across her chest, giving her blessing silently but not liking it. "As for not seeing is each other every day, there's a solution to that: move in with me."
18's arms dropped away from her chest, and she turned to fully regard the human she had fallen in love with, her eyes in shock. "Are you serious?"
"Deadly," was Krillin's answer. 18 kept regarding him, her mind going over the implications, the pros and the cons. *What cons?* she thought, as she felt her artificial heart thumb with excitement. Suddenly she picked the smaller man up to head level, and then kissed him ferociously. She broke the kiss about a minute later, holding a breathless ex-monk. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," Krillin said with a grin.
"You better, and we better go out dancing tonight, I didn't buy that dress for nothing," 18 told him with an angry growl, but Krillin could hear the happiness buried in there, not to mention her sparkling eyes. He also remembered seeing the dress: short, and sexy as hell, including matching pumps - not to mention his delight when he noticed the price tag still on it, and the huge discount - and that other piece of clothing was probably now hanging in the bedroom, or she was still wearing it underneath her jeans, and shirt. That thought made him shudder with excitement, and 18 noticed. The sexy smile that came in response to that, made him light up with desire, "and after that; we still haven't use what wearing underneath properly."
Krillin swallowed feeling a rise somewhere else, kissed 18 quickly but deeply, and then told her, "We're going out, don't worry about that. Now I have to go make a business deal between the guys and Capsule Corp."
"Be back soon," 18 told him darkly, and they kissed again, before Krillin blasted off.
*****
The four of them found Bulma hard at work on the next full-size, people carrying prototype of the interdimensional ship in Capsule Corp Headquarters' lab. Vegeta - who had let them in - was standing next to them, growing more annoyed by the moment. The sounds of the woman tinkering away echoed through the great hall, and she would not come out from under the machinery. Even after Yamcha had called her name a few times.
"WOMAN!" Vegeta finally bellowed out.
"WHAT!?" Bulma screeched as she pushed herself from under the machinery.
"Business, apparently," Vegeta said indicating the four. Bulma blinked and looked at the four entrepreneurs.
"Huh?" Bulma said, looking at the four of them a little confused, what would they want for 'business'.
Yamcha grinned, gestured with his arms, spreading out gently indicating a sigh, and said, "How does a Turtle Style School of Martial Art dojo in about every city in the country within ten to twenty years followed by, 'Powered by Capsule Corp Gravity Gym' sound to you?"
Bulma blinked twice, her mind unraveling all the information and getting what they wanted to do. She sat up, then stood up, with wide sparkling eyes. "Patent the artificial gravity, a few years for full deployment, then other companies get to join on the artificial gravity market healthy competition and all . . . personal gyms, space ships, space colonies, that sounds like money; lots of it."
*****
Back in the Sailor Moon dimension
Several hundred light years away from Earth
The ship was in orbit around the planet below, and the shuttle had just docked into its shuttle bay. Nervously Dimwu and Jarbal had gone through the ship, to the bridge. Their medical technology had healed them up by now, now all they had to worry about was their leader. Aliens in all shapes and sizes were in the ship as they went on their way.
Finally they reached the bridge, and they looked nervously at the large throne-like central chair. Next to the chair - which was turned with its back toward them - a alien stood, smiling at the two. He had dark yellow skin, which shone with some unholy energy. His eyes were pitch black, and two rows of small, nubby, horns lined his bald head; he too wore a similar but more elaborate uniform than the two who had arrived. A rumbling voice came from the central chair, asking, "Have you found it?"
"Yes, sir . . ." Dimwu answered nervously. "That is, we don't have it with us, we know it's there, we ran into a little snag."
"Snag?" the yellow alien asked with squeaky, evil voice.
Jarbal swallowed, and answered, "Yes, Ridish, there was a warrior, a fighter. He was huge, twice as big as I am, and twice as fast and twice as strong, possibly even more so." Jarbal swallowed nervously, and Dimwu looked up at Jarbal, disbelieving its lies, but not correcting him. "Perhaps this isn't worth the effort."
The command chair suddenly swivelled around, revealing a humanoid bull. It had claws instead of hoofs for hands and unlike the others he was brown. Unlike the others, he was not in a uniform, his clothes were brown, and whit. His skin was brown as well, but very dark. His horns were intimidating, and curled dangerously and largely. "We will get it, whatever the cost. Now, tell me, how strong was this . . . fighter?"
"He was incredibly powerful," Jarbal stated nervously, trying to placate his leader.
"Really? Did you try to kill him? The scanners picked up a massive explosion," the bull thundered.
Dimwu caved, "It's his fault! He let himself get dragged away. When he couldn't beat the fighter, he tried to blow up the whole city."
The bull growled, worse than a bear, worse than a lion, "I expressly forbade the wholesale destruction of cities!"
Jarbal jittered, backing back up, "I didn't destroy anything, the fighter squatted the ball aside like it was nothing." Faster than hardly anyone present could follow the bull had got up reached out and snapped Jarbal's neck like it was nothing. The blue alien dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
"Ridish, I'm still stuck here with those fools and their diplomatic talk," the bull-like alien said in a low voice, shaking his head in irritation. "Accompany Dimwu back to the planet, find this fighter, and destroy him, without harming the interdimensional technology. You do, I don't care how far back we go, you're fate will be that of Jarbal."
Ridish answered a positive, bowed and started toward the shuttle deck. "Do I have to?" Dimwu whimpered in fear and shock over his dead friend. The others paid him no heed, Ridish simply pulled him along, dragging him toward the shuttle craft.
