In case you missed it, I posted an update on Tuesday. Go check it out if you haven't, yet!

Bulma underestimated how cold Jingle Village was. Even this time of the year, the ground was covered in snow. She had picked up a coat and gloves on the drive there, but it still wasn't enough. She rubbed her shoulders, trying to warm herself up, and walked into the village square.

Jingle Village was tiny, with only a few dozen residents in total. They always kept to themselves, but that didn't stop the Red Ribbon Army from making a base at their doorstep. They terrorized the villagers, searching for some artifact they believed that they possessed. No one had the guts or power to put a stop to them. According to Dr. Flappe's interview, it was put to a stop by that Goku kid. Hopefully she'd find more answers, once she finally spoke with him. She walked around the cleared pathway, trying to find the house she was looking for. If she squinted, she could make out names above the doors, but she didn't see a sign of Flappe anywhere.

"Hi, there!"

Bulma turned around, and saw that she was approached by a girl, who looked to be about her age. She was holding a snow shovel, and dressed in a full winter coat – clearly a local. She had long red hair and brown eyes.

"What can I do for you? You look like you're lost."

"Yeah, I'm looking for Dr. Flappe. I was told he lives around here, and was hoping I could speak with him for a few moments."

"Oh, I can help you find him!" She pointed at the mountains. "He lives all the way out there, deep in the mountains."

Bulma sighed. Great. She was kicking herself for not springing for a pair of snow boots, earlier.

"I can get a friend, and we can take you up there, if you want! He normally doesn't like visitors, but maybe I can convince him to let you in!"

"That would be fantastic, thank you." Bulma held out her hand. "My name's Bulma, by the way."

She took her hand and shook it. "I'm Suno. We need to go find Eighter, and then we can get going to the Mountains. Come on!" She gestured for her to follow, and she did. "So, what do you need to ask him about?"

"I'm doing some digging into the Red Ribbon Army, and I just need to hear some stuff from him."

Suno suddenly stopped. "Oh. Why do you need to know?" She sounded so somber, all of a sudden. Bulma cringed, when she realized how callous that might have sounded. She had probably been alive to remember what their tyranny had been like. She shook her head. She'd have to be gentler. But how could she do it without freaking her out about their possible return?

"I just… need to hear what it was like for people who were a part of it. From the people that were there. Nothing more than that."

Suno nodded. "Okay. Then I think Eighter can tell you a lot, too. Come on." She started walking, again, and Bulma followed. She jogged to catch up to her steps.

"Do you remember what it was like, to live under the Red Ribbon Army?" Maybe a civilian's point of view would give her some insight. She could have seen or heard something from somebody. Any kind of information she could get would be helpful.

"Yes." Suno didn't look back, when she answered her.

"Do you know why they would set up camp all the way up here? Their base was on the other side of the world, practically."

"They were looking for the Dragon Balls."

She blinked. "You know about the Dragon Balls? Do you know why they were looking for them? Did they find all of them?"

"I never learned. I only know that Goku was looking for his grandpa's ball." She sighed. "Sweet, sweet Goku. I hope he's still doing okay – it's been so long since I last saw him." She giggled. "I bet he's even cuter, now!" There was another confirmation of Goku's involvement. No matter what she found today, Bulma knew that she had to track him down, next. If multiple people were saying that he was there, then the article's claims had to be true.

Suno raised her hand and waved it around. "Hey, Eighter! Come over here!" Across the field of snow was one of the biggest men she had ever seen. It was not just his size – he looked like something straight out of an old monster flick. His shoulders were broad and squared. His hair was short enough to see the stitches going across his forehead, along with one right under his eye. When he heard Suno call his name, he grinned, and ran over to them. The ground shook as he walked, nearly making Bulma fall over. He towered over the two women; as he leaned down to greet them.

"Suno," Eighter said. "How are you? What do you need?"

Suno gestured to Bulma. "This is Bulma. She needs to go talk to Dr. Flappe. Do you want to come?"

"I would love to see the doctor, again. Why do you need to talk to him, Bulma?"

"I just need to ask him about his… career."

Eighter looked confused. "Career? What do you mean?"

"It's about the Red Ribbon Army," Suno said. Bulma nodded. She had hoped to be a bit coyer, given how big he was, but that cat was out of the bag. Even with how amicable he seemed, she didn't want to go around pissing him off when she needed his help.

He responded exactly as Suno had. His smile faltered, and he grew somber. "Oh." He paused. "He should be able to tell you much, but he doesn't care for being questioned. I fear he might not be cooperative with you."

"Please. It's really important. I need to know everything I can about who they were. He's my best shot. There isn't anyone else that's still around who knows as much as he does. I don't think there's anyone else who was that high up the totem pole as he was who'd be willing to talk about it. It might be an emergency, so I really need to know."

Eighter looked down at her for several moments. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. We'll take you to him."

Eighter and Suno led Bulma through the snowy valleys and forests, crossing between the mountains. They jumped over ledges, ducked under low branches, and traversed their way through the deep snow. Bulma's feet had long since grown numb, now kicking herself more than ever for not springing for a pair of snow boots. Though she tried to keep her steps as light as possible, it was no use. She just hoped they'd get to their destination soon. Hopefully Dr. Flappe had a warm fire or something like that.

"So, uh, Eighter," she said, trying to distract herself from her freezing feet. "Were you around when the Red Ribbon Army was in Jingle Village?"

"I was in their old tower since they came to this village."

"Wow. So were you, like, a member?" Maybe she didn't even need to talk to Dr. Flappe. She could find out everything from this guy.

"In a way. I was created by Dr. Flappe before he left. My original title was Android 8. I was meant to kill, but I did not like it. The general saw me as a failure and tried to shut me down, when I refused to fight Goku. But Goku defended me, and called me a friend."

Bulma's eyes were wide. "Wait, hold on. You're an android?!" She didn't think any of them survived the war intact. Now that she saw how he moved, it looked a little mechanical – he walked with slow and precise steps. She thought back to the article about Dr. Flappe, where he did discuss the androids he built. Strange that he didn't mention that one was still functional.

"Yes," Eighter said. "If it weren't for Goku, I would not have met the mayor and his family. They took such good care of me, even if I am a machine. I could not have asked for anything more than this. The people of Jingle Village are good friends."

Suno hugged him, on his side. "Awww, Eighter. We love you, too." Eighter looked down, bashfully.

A new set of questions popped into Bulma's mind as she had listened to Eighter speak. All of the androids she had read about were built as nothing more than mindless killing machines. They were sent out in droves, fighting side by side with the Red Ribbon Army's soldiers. Yet, Eighter, either through design or maybe a miracle of a malfunction, had morality. He knew right from wrong. She needed to ask Dr. Flappe what he had hoped to accomplish, when he built this android. And she needed to know if he had worked on it alone.

"Hey, there it is – right up there!"

Bulma breathed out a sigh of relief, when she looked ahead. Thank goodness, the house was right there. And she saw smoke coming from outside of the chimney – that meant warmth. She was dying to get back inside and dry her socks. Suno went up to the door, with Eighter right behind her. Bulma stood off to the side, stepping onto the edge of the porch. It didn't do her feet much good, but at least she wasn't standing in the snow anymore.

"Hello," Suno said. "Dr. Flappe? Are you there?"

The door opened, and out came a short old man. His afro and mustache were a pure white, and he had large glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He was dressed in a yellow coat, with a button-up shirt, pants, and a loose tie underneath. He looked annoyed, when he first opened the door, but his expression relaxed when he saw Suno and Eighter. "Ah, good afternoon, you two. What brings you all the way out here?"

"We met a friend out in the village, today. She said she was looking for you."

Dr. Flappe rolled his eyes. "Great. Journalists, I bet. Never trusted 'em. After that bastard made a mockery of my words, I won't take any more calls!"

Bulma cleared her throat. She stepped up to the doorway. "Hi. It's a pleasure to get to meet you at last, Dr. Flappe. I've read so much about you and your work."

He narrowed his eyes. "Wait… have I seen you somewhere, before? Have we met?"

"No, not at all. My name is Bulma, and I was hoping to ask you a few questions about your career. I promise I'm not a journalist."

"Bulma… you wouldn't happen to be related to Dr. Brief of Capsule Corporation, would you?"

She shrugged. "He's my dad, yeah."

"Is he, now? Well, if you're anything like your old man, then you should be able to understand everything. Please, come inside. All of you."

Bulma sat comfortably on a couch, huddled under a blanket that hung over her shoulders. Her sopping socks and shoes were sitting next to the fireplace, and her coat was hung on a coat rack against the wall. Dr. Flappe was busy catching up with Suno and Eighter, talking to them about how life in Jingle Village had been going. Bulma could only sit and wait patiently for them to finish speaking. She didn't want an audience for her questions, lest it cause panic. Gossip travelled fast, but with how secluded the doctor was, she didn't doubt that he would keep his mouth shut.

"You really need to stop by more often, doctor," Suno said. "We missed you at the first day of spring. You should at least show up for the summer solstice."

Dr. Flappe scratched his head, as he took a sip of his coffee. "Sorry, but with all of this damn snow, it's kind of hard to keep track of the time of year." They all laughed together, at his comment.

Flappe turned to Bulma. "So, what were those questions you asked me about? You haven't said a word, since you came in."

"Well," she said. "It's not exactly something that needs a crowd. No offense to you two, but I think I'd prefer to discuss this with you alone."

"Oh, of course. We can head down to my lab. Suno, Number Eight – feel free to make yourselves at home, in the meantime."

Eighter bowed his head. "Thank you, doctor."

"Don't mention it at all, sonny. Bulma, come with me." Bulma took off the blanket, and stood up, following Dr. Flappe to the back of the house, and down a flight of stairs. His lab was a modest one, with a few consoles, a computer sitting against the wall, and a gurney sitting in the middle of the room. Flappe folded up the gurney and pushed it against the wall, pulling out a rolling chair from his desk. Bulma grabbed a folding chair, and put it down in front of him.

"So," Flappe said. "What is it you wanted to speak to me, about? I bet my money it's about the Red Ribbon Army?"

"What was your first clue?"

"Dammit, that's the only reason I get visitors, nowadays. Some young journalist wants to come up to me and get into my business without asking, and acts like they're all high and mighty. Whoopty-doo – you can write paragraphs. Congratulations! Maybe don't patronize me and my time, and pretend like my stories aren't real, for a change!" He sighed. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. What would you like to know?"

She just stared at him, with concern for a few moments, before she nodded. "Right. So, how did you come to be in the Red Ribbon Army?"

"Connections. I studied engineering over forty years ago at Orange Star University, over in Satan City. I got to know a lot of scientists, both budding and aging. Apparently, whatever work I did over there impressed somebody, because I was tracked down and 'offered' a position in the science division." He held up two fingers and used air quotes when he said 'offered'.

"Orange Star… that's where my dad graduated."

"Yup – we worked together quite a bit, back in the day. Now that he's so rich and successful, the old coot's probably forgotten all about me." He shrugged. "Eh, such is life.

"Anyway, I worked closely with the rest of the science team to engineer weapons for the Red Ribbon Army. I didn't want to give in so easily. But when you're held at gunpoint, what else are you going to do? Eventually, I landed on the android project. They wanted to create super soldiers, able to do enough work for thirty men. We had to build them to last – able to withstand gunfire, missiles, and even a nuclear bomb. When we got to experimenting, we discovered that just machine and metal wasn't going to cut it. That was when the people came in."

"People?"

He nodded. "As ashamed as I am to admit it, I worked on some experiments on humans, combining them with machines. I was able to live with myself manufacturing weapons, but seeing the human life being destroyed first hand, I couldn't handle it. But, you know – gunpoint and all of that. There wasn't much I could do. I thought I could make the best of the situation. Maybe those super soldiers could be made to do good. That's when I built Android 8. I wanted him to be gentle and kind, unlike all of his brothers. The brief time I had to speak with him personally, I tried to teach him that violence was not the answer.

"You can imagine how well that goes over with the bloodthirsty autocrats. They thought I was undermining their goals, and wanted to make an example out of me. A colleague overhead it all, and warned me about it. I left in the middle of the night and never looked back."

"Goodness," Bulma whispered. Even with all of the literature she read, she had never really let it sink in how horrifying the Red Ribbon Army truly was. Turning people into machines. Killing their own members to prove a point. She might have read about it in a book, but hearing it first hand from Dr. Flappe made it real.

"I ended up here in Jingle Village. I thought, of all the places to look for me, they wouldn't look in a tiny village in the north. But, then they started looking for the Dragon Balls, and set up Muscle Tower just outside of town. The longer it took to find the balls, the more volatile they became. If it weren't for Goku, what could have happened?"

"About that, actually – what did Goku actually do? I've never heard anything about that, in detail."

"The kid was incredibly brave. He took down all of Muscle Tower by himself. He was looking for the Dragon Balls, and just stumbled onto us all the way out here. He rescued the mayor, and even brought Number 8 back to me. I didn't even know he was still functioning, but he asked me to remove the bomb planted in his chest. Goku never asked for anything in return, and didn't even complain. He just took it upon himself to do some good. I swear that kid's a saint."

"Do you really think he was the one who destroyed HQ?"

"I probably shouldn't say that for certain, but once he went chasing towards HQ, I stopped hearing news about them. Can't tell you much, though – I've only heard a few rumors from some old friends. If you want to hear more, you'd have to track down Goku and ask him, yourself."

Bulma nodded. She definitely knew where she needed to go, next. "Do you know where I should look for him, by chance?"

"Last I heard, he's still living out by Mt. Paozu. When he was here, he told us a few stories about his life living there with his grandfather. I'd say you start looking there, first. But, as far as their demise goes, that's all I've got. Any other questions for me?"

"Just two more. First – were you working on the android project alone?"

He shook his head. "Heavens, no. I wasn't even the leader of it. I was just a lackey, really. The guy calling the shots was an old professor of mine – Dr. Gero."

That name caught her attention. She had read through that huge book a thousand times, but never saw that name once. She didn't even remember reading his name in the appendixes. Then, a thought came to her. Was he in the missing pages? "Can you tell me more about him?"

"He was a genius, but an ambitious one, too. I could barely understand half of the stuff he was spouting out, but apparently, he wanted to explore the potential of melding machine and man. Someone discovered some pretty unethical experiments that he wanted to complete, and he became a huge pariah. The Red Ribbon Army picked him up, and put him in charge of the science division. He impressed them so much that they let him go through with the android project. His old career gave him a lot of connections. It's how I got involved, after all. Never actually found out what happened to him, when the Army went down."

This had to be it – the missing link. He had all of that power: placing him that high in the book made sense. And he had the talents and know-how to execute something like, say, sending an assassin out to kill Saiyans. She was getting warmer. She could just feel it.

"So, do you think that there could be… something left of the Red Ribbon Army out there? Do you think someone could be working on their behalf?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Something left. What makes you think that?"

"A hunch. History shows that powers like that don't just limp quietly into the night. There had to be people out there that were fiercely loyal to them, and you know that loyalties die-hard. Someone might still want to continue their work."

Flappe put his finger on his chin, and hummed. "I guess. I haven't heard anything, so I can't tell you. Maybe someone could have gotten out of HQ alive, but I doubt that Red or Black is around to rally the troops, again." He paused for a moment, but then shrugged. "Who knows? Well, is that all your questions?"

That answer was about what she expected. If Flappe had stayed hidden all the way out here for so long, he wouldn't be in the loop. She nodded. "It definitely is. Thank you, Dr. Flappe. It was wonderful talking to you. I got more from this conversation than I was expecting to be completely honest." She stood up, and held out her hand.

He rose to his feet, as well, and shook her hand. "It was no problem, at all. Thank you for hearing an old man out. Though, I'm surprised you don't seem to know who Dr. Gero was. I thought your old man would have told you about him."

She blinked. This was certainly news to her. Her dad had never once mentioned a Dr. Gero, before. She hadn't even heard his name, before today. "Why would my dad know him?"

"Probably a better question for him than me. Well, if you need anything else related to whatever you're doing, feel free to stop by. I can tell you're more open minded than a lot of people I've come across."

She slowly nodded, distracted by what he had just told her. "I'll be sure to, sir. Thanks, again."

Bulma said goodbye to Suno and Eighter, thanking them for their help, and left in her hover car. During her drive, she couldn't stop thinking about what Dr. Flappe had told her. She thought she knew her father's career really well. Was he keeping something from her? He wasn't normally the type to keep secrets. This didn't make any sense. She needed to ask him some questions, when she got back home. Her gut told her that she wasn't seeing the bigger picture.

Questions would have to wait, for now. Next stop – Son Goku.