Yamcha's eye let out an involuntary jerk when Yajirobe took off at him, his hand positioned over the hilt of his blade but it was no time at all before the martial artist noticed something off about his opponent. Yajirobe slumped and stumbled as if he could barely hold his body together and when he dashed forward, taking off the ground and pulling his sword out in a draw-slash, there was no blade to slash at Yamcha with, just a handle with busted and crumbled steel, chunks of which still fell off of the ruined sword.
Without trying to embarrass his opponent too much, Yamcha stepped aside, letting Yajirobe plant on his face. He reached out over Yajirobe's loincloth and lifted the chubby ronin up by it, squeezing his groin and forcing signs of life back to his self-incapacitated opponent.
"You're pretty banged up, it's no surprise, if you got hit by even a bit of Tenshinhan's attack, you might need help…" Yamcha tried establishing a connection with the strange ronin. Judging by his moves, Yajirobe was a skilled swordfighter and more than an average martial artist in his own right but the injuries he suffered when catching the edge of Tenshinhan's devastating, widespread Kikoho had been crushing to his body.
"Let go! Ye bastard, ye've just disturbed my meal, that's it!" Yajirobe grumbled, throwing fists wildly to the sides but failing to land a single punch or kick.
"I can help you with that. I've got some beans with me that…" Yamcha patted himself down before moving down to his belt, after removing a small bag where the Senzu were meant to be, the martial artist widened his stare in surprise. "Damn… We've kind of went ham with the Senzu during the tournament, they're all gone… Tell you what, I and my friend are headed to the Korin Tower in the Sacred Land of Korin. If you come with us, we can feed you and heal you all at once as an apology. Then we'll see what can be done about that Dragon Ball on your neck, maybe Korin-san will have something to trade for it…"
"I'mma kill all a ye!" Yajirobe struggled, continuing to throw hands and feet around but in his current state his attempts to attack appeared most like swimming in mid-air.
"Well, it doesn't look like you can resist so I'll have to help you, even if it's against your will, okay, buddy?" Yamcha lifted Yajirobe closer to eye left before having to lean his head back to avoid a spit from the round cheeks of his newly met ronin acquaintance. After putting Yajirobe down in a less than gracious way, Yamcha furrowed in the contents of his capsule case.
"S kidnappin' 's what it is…" Yajirobe kept on complaining even with his face down in the mud. Yamcha had hoped that lying face down would shut him up even if just for a little bit but he appeared to have been wrong.
"Huh… I guess I'll have to climb the Korin Tower again with the both of you on my back… Man…" Yamcha sighed and lifted Tenshinhan and Yajirobe back to the jet before placing his own bottom down by the driver seat. The blasts of flames coming out of the jet's engine threw around layers upon layers of ash, raising them up in impressive clouds of gray. Soon enough Yamcha's jet blasted off and was nothing but a blinking gleam out in the distance when looking on from the prairie.
"Say… Why don't we split up, Bulma has a whole bunch of those radars, don't she? That way we can cover more of those Dragon Balls way faster…" Blond Launch suggested after pulling out a submachine gun and cocking it in front of everybody, forcing Bulma and Muten Roshi to jump at her and try to shove the gun back under her shirt, where it came from.
"We don't need you to shoot up anything here. This is a public event and I'm the daughter of Dr. Brief of the Capsule Corp. It's easy pickings to get the tickets and even if I can't get them – no promoted would skip the opportunity of free publicity of hosting cute and charming ol' me and my friends…" Bulma looked outraged at Launch at first over her heavily armed stunt but then, after changing the topic back onto her preferred subject – herself and what she brought onto the table, her cheeks blushed a bit and her eyes got all dreamy. "Plus, if we split up and King Piccolo or his goons takes one of our Dragon Balls - it's all over, we can't possibly off him without confronting him which is what we're trying to avoid."
"I don't get what's such a fuss with you two…" Launch growled after elbowing Muten Roshi straight in his bald head for touching up her breasts while trying to hide her gun. As sturdy as the martial artist was, he was forced to stagger away in a haze almost as dreamy as that of Bulma's. "I've pulled this trick way too many times, I'd 'a pulled the cops off 'a your tails while you made your way in…"
"So, do you guys really think that the Dragon Ball would be in this joint?" Oolong squinted at the massive arena with flashing lights. "Even if it is here, how will we find it?"
"It's true that it will be difficult to find if one of the spectators of this place has it…" Bulma noted, giving the Dragon Radar in her hands an occasional peek. "Still, the radar doesn't pick up anything but the Dragon Ball and if the event is something of a sports competition, we can roam the place in the dark undisturbed."
"It's been a while…" Chiaotzu sighed floating by the group alongside Puar, who also possessed a similar ability although Puar's appeared to be more based on his natural features rather than martial arts prowess and telekinetic powers. "Do you guys think Yamcha and Ten-san are okay?"
Bulma looked up at the night's sky, Yamcha and Tenshinhan took off in the different direction, the Dragon Team took off to the north-east whereas the two took off to the north-west, they were likely to be in a different time zone so they likely weren't roaming around the place in the middle of the night like the Dragon Team was. Rest was sort of out of the question when the Dragon Balls needed to be collected and the threat of Piccolo ended as soon as possible…
"They better be, if Yamcha gets himself killed, the ogres will be the least of his worries!" Bulma ground her teeth and clenched her fist out in front of her.
"Hey, look at that!" Blond Launch pointed her thumb at the poster on the wall of the sports arena beside the entrance. The poster depicted a handsome young male with bandaged arms and curly hair in a victorious stance, wearing a golden belt around his waist that had a very familiar one-starred orb in the center for decoration.
"That's amazing!" the group all erupted in chants of joy. They lucked out to find out that they won't need to feel people up in the dark and scour the place for the Dragon Ball.
"I know, right? That belt's worth at least fifty thousand Zeni with all that gold…" Blond Launch poked her thumb at the martial artist depicted on the poster.
"That's not what we're cheering on for, Launch-san, it's the one-star Dragon Ball on his belt." Puar let Launch in on the loop.
"That man… It's Pamput!" Bulma recognized the man on the poster. "Pamput the unstoppable fighter and an international movie star!"
A low-pitched and grungy laughter demanded the entirety of the crew's attention as a short and chubby man of violet hair that grew into some thick mutton chops and a mustache that looked more like a hairy caterpillar than stylish facial hair appeared from the shade, the security goons that oversaw the entry to the event moved aside to let the man out, suggesting he was of high social status around the parts.
"I see Pamput has fans in some high places!" the man in a white suit declared and tilted his hat while he introduced himself. "Name's Vodka, I'm the chairman of this here wrestling league! In fact, this very league was built with contributions from both me and Pamput himself, out of the money he won in the two martial arts tournaments he had won."
"Oh, he's that good?" Chiaotzu wondered, pressing his tiny, white finger to his mouth. "How come he didn't participate in the World Martial Arts Tournament then?"
"Sh-Shut up, pipsqueak!" Vodka got all worked up all of a sudden. "Our work here with our wrestling league transcends that old lumpkin ball… Plus, Pamput did participate, it's just that the timing was off, he was just after another tournament he had won and a nasty injury didn't let him get past the preliminaries!"
Following Vodka inside, the Dragon Team saw a sorry sight for a wrestling league, especially one that rented out such a massive hall all for itself on such an evening. While the timing of the opening night being set the same evening when the World Martial Arts Tournament concluded played into the lack of filled up seats in the place, it couldn't have been the only reason…
Inside the ring, Pamput dispatched of an unimpressive man in his wrestling tights with a couple of stiffer shots and stepped on him for the count, posing as the referee counted up to three and declared the end of the match. The general excitement of the event didn't go too high up even when Pamput began a handicap match immediately after, quickly taking down two opponents with roundhouse kicks to the face while he forced the third to tap out with a pathetic yelp once Pamput put him into an armlock.
"Man… This event is a bust… Nobody's coming and even when they are, they don't look like they're having any fun…" Vodka sighed. "That's where you can come in…" he turned to Bulma.
"Oh?" Bulma acted surprised, even though she knew exactly where the meaty dwarf was going.
"Yes, I know you, everybody knows you, you're that daughter of Dr. Brief, the professor in charge of the Capsule Corporation, you were the TV when that army guy kidnapped you a couple of years ago! If you waltzed around, switched seats all over the place with your friends, maybe we'd get noticed a bit more, gather some more buzz?" Vodka suggested.
"I can definitely do that…" Bulma cringed into her hand, while she didn't look all too proud of the fact she was known for being kidnapped on live television, as evidenced by her bemused expression when Vodka spoke of that event when the man brought up Bulma's public status as a celebrity of more than just the scientific world, she shimmered like a polished star.
"Man, forget it, I'm outta here…" Blond Launch threw her hand up in dismissal of the wrestling league event going on. "No way I'm watching this crap whole night while Bulma struts around…"
"Oh, come on, Bulma's friend, this is rasslin', don't you know? This is great, this ain't like that World Martial Arts Tournament highfalutin, technical junk, this is pure entertainment, an event where the charisma of the martial artist transcends everything else!" Vodka tried grabbing hold of Launch's hand but the blonde turned around holstering an oversized handgun in the other hand, daring the little gangster hold on to her hand for a few more seconds.
"Wise chick, eh? Well… Two of us can play this game!" Vodka reached into his suit for a piece of his own while a handful of goons stood up from their seats, revealing the fact that a decent chunk of the visitors present in the event belonged to Vodka's own criminal enterprise.
"Whoa! Why don't you guys settle down!" Oolong stepped into the middle between Launch and Vodka. "How about we sit down and watch some wrestling, Bulma helps build this amateur league up and then we can talk about that belt…"
"That belt? What about it?" Vodka raised an eyebrow, putting a gun right to Oolong's temple, implying that if the anthropomorphic pig spoke his mind about disliking the belt, he'd wear a full metal jacket for his breezy May evening.
"Your belt has a Dragon Ball on it. It's the little crystal orb in the center with one star on it. We need it for… Capsule Corp, science business… You wouldn't understand." Bulma crossed her arms over her chest. Flustered about misreading the situation and threatening Bulma's friend, risking the well-being of his new business opportunity, Vodka put his gun back into his inner pocket and fixed his tie.
"W-Well… Yes… We happened to stumble into it on accident during an auction when we looked for a cool gemstone to put onto our belt. That one star really made the deal happen for us, it just yells Number One, don't you think!?" Vodka chuckled into his own hand, feeling all too clever about himself. "Though, if you need it, for scientific, Capsule Corp business, no less… I'm sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement to both of us, capisce?"
"Wait, you mean for us to buy it off of your hands after all the hard work of building your league up!?" Bulma leaned over and reared her teeth at the aged gangster, making him lean back and shrivel in response.
"Come on, ya gotta understand we're running a business 'ere, kid…" Vodka threw his hands out in front of himself as an attempt to defuse the situation to the best of his abilities.
"Not like that you ain't…" Oolong pouted his lips and sassed the gangster, having forgotten that he had a gun pressed to his temple not a full minute ago. "I've seen wrestling and this here ain't it…" the anthropomorphic pig declared.
"Huh? What a mere pig would know about wrestling?!" Vodka turned back to Oolong, finding him a much more fitting pushover to his not at all threatening criminal presence compared to the blue-haired genius girl he depended his business success on.
"A pig would make a better opponent to that Pumput guy than any of those losers, for once… Let me into the ring for one minute and I'll make it a show… For some extra dough, of course…" Oolong rubbed his hands.
"Are you kidding? Having a pig fight my undefeated and undisputed champion will sink me under the ground, with Bulma-chan's support or without it…" Vodka yelled back at the pig, finding his demands entirely ridiculous.
"Fine… You can keep your money… Say… Maybe your league has any female wrestlers who could reward us with their wrestling gear? Some tights, for example…" Oolong showed his tongue while jiggling something that wasn't where he was trying to jiggle it despite his avid imagination bringing it to life right in front of Oolong.
"Huh?" Muten Roshi got interested all of a sudden and shoved Oolong out of the way. "He's right, you know… Oolong has the ability to transform, you can have your champion face all sorts of unruly opponents, devils, dinosaurs and the like. And this one…" Roshi snagged Puar out of thin air and shoved it up to Vodka's face, "This one can transform even better than Oolong, his transformations last way longer. These two can make it work for you, so how about those tights… I mean that Dragon Ball!?"
Vodka scratched his chin for a fair moment. The possibility of Pamput fighting anything or anyone his mind could imagine and protect his belt against them would build up the championship's value even if it didn't have the nice, orange, crystal orb with one star on it.
"And that's two!" Bulma chuckled still riding the highs of energy that being recognized and flattered by the crowd that really got into it the moment that an armored monster reaching five meters in size entered the ring to claim Pamput's championship but lost to the champ in under a minute. Rinse and repeat a few more times with Puar's help while Oolong's transformation ability went off its cooldown. "Who knew it would be this easy!?"
"Speak for yourself…" Oolong cried out, rubbing his cheek. He might have lost more than a few teeth there over the evening. "That Pamput guy doesn't know the first thing about wrestling, he's stiffer than a coat of lead. And we didn't even get any tights, that guy doesn't employ any girls, can you believe it? What a sexist!"
"You're the one to speak!" Bulma pounded Oolong and ground her fist into his head. She had considered showing the poor shapeshifter some mercy since it truly did work some wonders in that ring, despite only being able to wrestle for about a minute, but her composure was even worse than always when she hadn't had her beauty sleep.
"Just for the sake of reference, I do not condone all that violence…" blue-haired Launch spoke up in a soft and squeaky voice. A heavy thud let it be known that one of her guns that she held stuffed in her bra underneath her top slipped out and hit the ground, nearly going off. "Oh my…" she covered her mouth. "Is that mine?"
"We'll have to switch shifts while we're flying to the next location," Bulma suggested. "We're traveling all over the world here and there's a fat chance that the next Dragon Ball will be anywhere where we can reach it before the morning."
Her suggestion interrupted the brief fit of laughter that the group shared over Launch's usual antics. Beat and sleepy, the Dragon Team fumbled into the plane while Chiaotzu floated into it with probably the most energy. The little ghoul usually looked the least lively out of any group he was a part of so the sign that he looked the liveliest after not changing one bit showed how bad things truly were at the moment.
"Onto… The next adventure…" Bulma yawned before pressing the button that lit up the exhaust pipes and blasted the jet off in a streak of burning jet fuel.