"You're telling me to change my name!? I can't do that! That's… My name!" Mark Satan began pulling on his ample curls in anxiety while Bulma tapped her crossed arms with a vicious and grilling stare.
"You've had it changed to Mark Satan so you can change it again," Bulma closed her eyes, symbolizing her shutting herself off from being dissuaded. She turned around and went to town on some holographic buttons of a control panel. A flashy screen came up with Mark Satan talking to a sizeable crowd and riling them up to cheer for him.
"See? That's so much cheering and love. Our competitor literally financed death machines that were almost used to enact a genocide of the extraterrestrial immigrant minority group. I shouldn't have to change my name to win this election!" Mark Satan tried reasoning with Bulma, but the woman was persistent. She purposefully withheld an immediate response to let the chanting linger in the air.
"Hail Satan, hail Satan, hail Satan!"
"You asked me to be your campaign manager, and I warned you I'll go hard but I'll get results. I'm not leaving anything to chance here. People have not only elected a man that took drugs that changed him into an anthropomorphic animal into power, but they also kept him as King for over a decade. Him using public funds to build new government-sponsored Androids gives us an opening to put you in that seat, but it won't guarantee a win. You may take that bet, but I won't! You'll have your name legally changed to Hercule, and that's that," Bulma leaned in on Mark Satan's side, making the flustered martial artist stagger back in terror despite being twice the size of his meek campaign manager.
"B-But does it have to be Hercule though?" Mark scratched the back of his neck, looking downright pitiful. "It doesn't have the terrifying oomph and stage presence that Mark Satan does."
"Hercule sounds heroic. You're not just a martial artist but a hero to those people too, I'm going to lean hard toward that. At the very least, we won't have your followers sound like an actual cult. Besides, the charts say that the whole "Satan" gimmick associates with the "Devil" sign Demon King Piccolo left behind and the chaos that caused. We can't have that associated with us, even if it is just a stupid reminder with no factual relation," Bulma turned around and opened up a window full of data from social inquiries into the citizens of all the cities of the world and even some smaller and more remote villages that won't get to vote in the election.
"Is this a bad time?" Videl raised her hand, standing in the doorway and looking like she regretted interrupting this meeting, although she arranged her and Trunks' return with Bulma yesterday. It was only then that her eyes settled on her father talking to Bulma. "Dad?"
"V-Videl!?" Mark exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you home?"
"Home?" Videl scratched her head. "I was training with Kami Upa on the God Temple and then I left looking for the Dragon Balls with Trunks-kun, did you think I was sitting home this whole time?"
"You were… What!?" Mark gasped, his forehead pouring with cold sweat.
"I'll need you to calm down, Mark," Bulma rubbed her temples and shook her head. "I'm your campaign manager, so I'll handle your family matters for you. Don't worry, I've got your best interests in mind. You just focus on looking like your best self and at the very least try sounding smart during the debate."
"My entire life is spiraling out of control. I regret… Everything," Mark sulked with a pathetic slump while Bulma's secretary gently led him out of Bulma's laboratory so that Bulma could discuss everything she and Videl spoke of on the phone in person.
"I'm glad you came, Videl. Where's Trunks?" Bulma turned around, arranging some matters and putting together a campaign schedule while charting the potential growth and popularity of Mark Satan. Pondering to herself, Bulma added and took away additional debates and rallies to achieve a satisfactory result, relying on mathematical algorithms she used in her day-to-day lab work to chart a course to a landslide election.
"Trunks-kun was still feeling down after the injuries he took. Vegeta-san met us in the hallway and said he'd take Trunks-kun to a medical pod for recovery. He looked… Almost happy his own son got clobbered up," Videl scratched her tattered elbow.
"I'm sure he did. He meant nothing by it, Saiyans grow much stronger after each battle. A tough battle that leaves their life hanging on the line makes them grow several times stronger, which is why that oaf of a husband of mine keeps throwing himself at every dirtbag in the universe he finds out about," Bulma stepped off of the holographic screen to sip on some coffee. Videl wondered how the woman could multitask like that, ensuring someone's success at being elected as King of the World, as well as discussing family matters and collecting the Dragon Balls. "You look pretty beat up yourself. You should take a medical pod too."
"Thank you, maybe I will, later. I just felt like seeing you first was important," Videl poked her two index fingers together. She didn't want to mention all that embarrassing stuff about not feeling like she deserved a medical pod, not feeling like she was at home here at Capsule Corps, and feeling responsible for Trunks' injuries as the oldest member of their two-person group.
"Right, yesterday on the phone you said you found a Dragon Ball. It's not anywhere near the time that we used to pull during our time collecting the Dragon Balls, but it's impressive, nonetheless. It surprised me to hear you've encountered an actual challenge. You said it was a monster of some sort?" Bulma turned around, sitting on the holographic keyboard and accidentally typing gibberish onto Satan's campaign schedule with her resting rear end.
"It was a massive, blue-skinned monster with an oval-shaped, shriveled head and plentiful muscles. He had sharp teeth and pointy ears. Looked a bit like a… A vampire or something…" Videl scratched her head, trying to come up with the best description for the Destron monster they'd encountered.
"You don't say…" Bulma became more concerned, slipping her bottom off of the holographic keyboard. She gazed at the mess she made by accident and began promptly correcting all the tables. "I wonder… Could Garlick Jr. truly have escaped? Did the monster say anything? Anything about having revenge or demons taking over the world?"
"Garlick Jr.? No, I don't believe the monster ever said a word to us. Given the embarrassing things that happened to it, I don't believe he could talk at all," Videl shrugged. "Have you encountered this Garlick Jr. before?"
"Something like that, but it's tough to say if this was truly him. Garlick Jr. is a demon who once tried to take over the world and ended up trapped in his own Dead Zone dimension. Then, a couple of years back, some of his cohorts tried collecting the Dragon Balls to bring him back to Earth. Nothing came out of it for them. It's odd though, you said that the monster attacked you further south from the Red Sea?" Bulma called forth a map and pondered, looking at it. Checking the official world map, there didn't seem to be anything at all to the southeast of the Red Sea.
"Yes, a place called Penguin Village on Gengoro Island," Videl nodded.
"Hmm… Strange. What made me so interested in your story is that, allegedly, Garlick Jr. and his cohorts were truly based southeast of the Red Sea in a floating castle on an artificial island. If he were to resurface, it would probably be there…" Bulma sighed and sipped on her coffee again. Based on her look, she didn't think of Garlick Jr. as much of a threat at all, she just looked curious more than anything.
"Dr. Norimaki and his son Turbo theorized that the monster might have been created through Destron Gas from some place called "the Dark Planet"," Videl brought it up.
"Oh, you've met Norimaki-san and his family? He's a famous scientist. I never considered him my rival, personally, but I haven't heard of a "Dark Planet" or "Destron Gas" before," Bulma pouted her lips in a malicious cocktail of jealousy and loathing of her own lack of knowledge.
"Turbo-san said that the Destron Gas gives shape to the ephemeral–negative energy, bad intentions, dreams and thoughts, and the sort. It's a sort of creation gas that uses spiritual energy for fuel. The monster we met may not have been Garlick Jr. but just his demonic ill will given form by the Destron Gas," Videl suggested.
"Hm… That would make logical sense, even if just about every element of this equation is ridiculous. If Garlick Jr.'s evil dreams of world domination and his goons' ambition to bring him back to life persisted in that area of the world, the Destron Gas may have revived him using those as fuel. Granted, it's just speculation. I can't make anything solid out of this without an example of this "Destron Gas"," Bulma waved her hand in dismissal.
"Well, there is this…" Videl pulled out a capsule, pressed and flicked it. After a pop and a puff of colorful smoke, a googly-eyed vacuum cleaner began rolling around, parading about the lab while singing cheerful mechanical tunes from its trunk. "This is a Destron Gas gadget devised by Turbo-san. It absorbs and nullifies Destron Gas. We've absorbed the gas looming over Penguin Village, so its container should have a decent enough sample."
"You're incredible, Videl!" Bulma ran up and kissed Videl on the forehead, grabbing the confused and goofy-looking vacuum cleaner off the floor and disassembling it on her worktable in seconds. "Go take the medical pod now. I'll tell you what I find out about all this when you and Trunks recover."
"If you would please follow me…" a woman in formal workwear with Capsule Corps logos decorating the blazer and the small hat approached Videl from behind, seeking to lead her to the medical pods. Videl hesitated for a little while, turning back to Bulma and acting confused about if she should leave or not. Given how completely absorbed in her work Bulma was, Videl threw hesitation away and surrendered to the exhaustion.
She could use a bit of collapsing and passing out right about now…
"Father, can you please teach me the Final Flash?" Trunks asked with lively pumps to his tiny fists. The young Saiyan-Earthling hybrid had recovered from his injuries in the pod and joined his father in the circular garden in the middle of the Capsule Corps building complex. Trunks was waiting for Bulma to finish her research into the ample amount of Destron Gas that they'd brought back. His father's reason for being there eluded the young Saiyan, though he loved the chance to ask his father to teach him something amazing in the meantime.
"What's this out of the blue?" Vegeta sneered at his son.
"I tried repeating your moves against that Destron monster. I thought I remembered the way your Ki moved, but it didn't work right. I couldn't do it. I would've obliterated that monster if it did work, though!" Trunks waved his tiny knuckles in front of him with eyes that gleamed with cheer and a face that brimmed with excitement. Just imagining wielding an unstoppable technique that signaled pure destruction and an end to any of his father's enemies, no matter how powerful, made Trunks all jittery inside.
"Never try to use that move again," Vegeta snuffed the joy in the boy's eyes out with a hiss of silent wrath.
"This isn't fair!" Trunks' voice began quivering. "You're not teaching me anything, you know. You're not showing me any martial arts techniques. All we do during training is fight with each other! You won't teach me how to become Super Saiyan, you won't show me how to do Final Flash…"
"Wipe your tears," Vegeta demanded as if his son was one of his subjects. "If you're sniveling to me about that, you still have much to learn."
Videl froze in place, having left the pod and feeling creeped out at first. The secretary had left her a Capsule Corps T-shirt and a branded jacket by the healing pod and a Capsule Corps towel. Though no matter how much Videl tried to wipe the gunk of the healing pod away, it didn't come off. Over time, she learned that it just absorbed into her skin naturally. The healing juice made her skin softer and more glistening, like a baby's new coat, though it also gave her a sweet, fruity smell with a herbal nuance.
"That's mean. Sometimes it's hard to believe you're the boy's father!" Videl emerged from the eastern corridor after a brief second's hesitation to get herself together. She always knew that she wanted to stand up for the boy, but standing up against King Vegeta took some time to mold one's guts into a solid stack. "Trunks is an impressive and talented martial artist. Against all odds, he had Garlick Jr. on the ropes more than a few times, but he struggled to deal with a basic Afterimage technique. You can't just make him into a martial artist by sparring with him all the time. You have to properly tutor him."
"Stay out of this, Earthling," Vegeta said bluntly. There was no spite or aggression in his voice. There was no emotion at all. No disappointment, no anger. He felt in no particular way about Videl or her comment. In a way, that was more infuriating than him attacking her. "I'm not molding my son into a martial artist. I'm trying to help him become an elite Saiyan warrior."
"Is that what you're doing? Because from how Trunks explained your training to me, it felt more like you just flexing on a four-year-old boy. You're one of the strongest warriors in the universe. I can't believe you'd be this insecure as to showcase your superiority against a mere kid," Videl raised her voice. She didn't want it, but Vegeta's lack of passion left a void in their argument and Videl's naturally passionate personality only made her rise to fill it. Trunks stared at Videl with fright, his tears no longer pouring from his cheeks. Instead, they hung static in crystals at the corners of his eyes.
"This is the last time I'll warn you, Earthling. You're clueless about Saiyan customs and you're even more stumped about the matters of my family. Stay out of my family's business," Vegeta sneered. Videl's earlier comment riled him up, though nowhere near as much as hurtful truth should have. Videl bit her index finger and looked away in submission. In the reaction of the Saiyan, she found out that Vegeta wasn't merely bullying Trunks to showcase how strong he was and using his own son as a punching bag. Someone like that would've snapped at such an accusation, unable to confront the truth, whereas Vegeta showed remarkable restraint for him.
The door to Bulma's lab opened with a mechanical hum. The blue-haired genius walked out from the lab, still lingering in slipping out of her lab coat. She still wore the same wrinkled and sweaty suit from Mark Satan's campaign, and she hadn't worked on her hair at all. The woman reeked of cigarettes and coffee and only after leaving her lab did she realize that her shades still hung halfway crutched over her nose at which point she tossed it away only to be picked up by a rolling robot. A brigade of them rolled into Bulma's lab now that she left it to clean it up and freshen the place up for the scientist's following visit.
"Jeez…" she groaned. "This junk is addictive. I have seen nothing this advanced since I've studied the Big Gete Star…"
Vegeta's stare glistened with tightened focus. "Whaa!" Trunks exclaimed. "It's that advanced!?"
"You've no clue…" Bulma yawned. "This is to chemistry what Big Gete Star was for cybernetic technology. Honestly, chemistry isn't exactly my strong suit, to begin with. I'll have to ask someone from the Capsule Corps to pitch in. As much as this thought irks me, I might have to send the data to THAT woman to ask for her take."
"That woman?" Videl's eyes shifted from Trunks to Vegeta back to Bulma, trying to decipher who exactly this mysterious woman in question with knowledge of chemistry surpassing that of even Bulma's was.
"Hmph. Can you trace the source of the gas from here?" Vegeta asked.
"Well, well… What got you so interested in this all of a sudden?" Bulma placed her hands over her hips and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her husband.
"If you're willing to compromise and contact that woman, this means this gas might be dangerous enough to threaten Earth. You have a pride that matches mine sometimes, after all. It's one of your more tolerable features. I won't allow anyone or anything to threaten the planet where my people reside!" Vegeta clenched his fist with a brave proclamation.
"Calm down, cowboy," Bulma shrugged. "I haven't been able to break the gas down at all. Honestly, I'm way bummed out, but I'm working with some seriously quirky alien particles here. None of this gas' composition registers on the table of elements."
"If we get a higher concentration of the gas, could you maybe track its source, then?" Trunks wondered. Videl turned to the literal four-year-old with a jarring mouth. How could this preschooler sustain a conversation with his genius mother like that?
"Hmmm… A bigger sample makes for more of the individual particles, and better chances of breaking them down to something fundamental I can track. Could work…" Bulma nodded.
"So, we should just keep collecting the Dragon Balls. If we run into more Destron Gas monsters, all we'll have to do is send them here to accumulate a bigger sample," Trunks leaned back his head on his arms, looking away as he pondered on the issue for a blink before concluding.
"Are you sure?" Bulma wondered. "You got banged up pretty badly the last time."
"If it doesn't challenge us, it's not good training," Trunks rolled his eyes, seeing a peck on the forehead and a rub of his hair by his mother coming from a mile away. "Besides, I've gotten way stronger after that last fight. I won't let some gas monster pummel me again."
"Good," Vegeta nodded in approval. This was as close as young Trunks would get to his father being proud of him. "What about you?" he turned to Videl with a stern look that made chills run down Videl's spine and her mouth stretch to the ends of her cheeks.
"Umm… I've signed up for this to help cure Chayote-san. Besides, Kami Upa thinks I can handle collecting the Dragon Balls, so if I turn away now–I may as well quit learning martial arts," Videl replied while shyly rubbing her boot against the floor.
"Is it okay if we travel together?" Trunks looked up for approval in his father's eyes. "Videl makes amazing food, and she's surprisingly good for an Earthling. She knows all that geeky martial arts stuff too, so she can cover for me."
"I'd advise you to stick with the Earthling girl," Vegeta declared, making everyone exclaim in shock. The Saiyan king closed his eyes in frustration, almost as if he saw this obnoxious reaction coming. "This journey has proven to be useful for you so far, even if you still have a long way to go. Ultimately, the decision is yours to make, as your own warrior."
"Right, I'm traveling with Videl then!" Trunks nodded. "If you're fine with that," the boy turned and looked up to the teen-aged companion of his.
"If it's okay, I'd like to teach Trunks-kun some martial arts," Videl turned to Vegeta but only found a stern stone wall of his closed eyes and an indifferent expression. "He could use a bit of technical knowledge on top of his brute force approach."
"Do what you want," Vegeta barked back.
"Alright!" Trunks shot his fist out to the ceiling with a lively hop. "Don't get too discouraged when I wipe the floor with every Destron monster in our way and leave you in the dust. I got crazy strong now…" he gave Videl a funny grimace, though nothing in his smirk was mean-spirited. It was because of that aura of friendly rivalry that Videl just snickered in response.
"Yeesh, you two remind me of back when I left with Son-kun to look for the Dragon Balls for the first time. Anyway, if you ever really run into more Destron monsters, use this instead of that lame thing you picked up from Penguin Village," Bulma handed the pair a new capsule to add to the case. "It's my personal spin on the Destron Gas collection device. It runs by itself, so neither of you will have to work on siphoning the gas. Both of you can focus on fighting this way."
"Awesome!" Trunks cheered. He pulled his Dragon Radar out and took a peek, zooming out a few times before finding a nearby signal. "The nearest Dragon Ball is in Central City."
"Hmm… It won't feel much like a survival exercise at all then," Videl sighed with a contented look on her face. "In any case, we could use some easier time snagging this ball after the trouble we went through in Penguin Village."
Trunks and Videl shot out enveloped in the crystal-clear aura, swirling around one another at the beginning like the coils of DNA before Trunks burst with a more vibrant white aura and shot off with a rampant sonic boom. Videl braced herself before powering up and shooting off in pursuit. Bulma and Vegeta stared off at their son, shooting off on his first adventure.
"Look at you being all father-of-the-year…" Bulma muttered, giving her husband's biceps a little lovely nudge. "Don't think I haven't noticed you lecturing our son… In your own way. He is four though, so maybe you could've told your lecture to him directly instead of leaving him to figure it out by himself."
"I've no clue what you're talking about. Just focus on tracking that gas to its source when you can. I'll have words with whoever's sending their junk on the planet where my people have settled down," Vegeta turned around and walked off to train deeper into the complex, playing it off.