This was it, the last time that Yamcha would focus on martial arts. At least that's what he told himself when he saw the team prepared for the Tournament of Power. Everyone was just so far beyond him.

However, he wasn't really sad in any meaningful sense of the word. He had made a lucrative career in professional baseball, and had even gotten various product deals under his belt. He just wasn't a savior anymore. Now that was not to say that he was weak, hardly so. After all, he hadn't fallen too far in power from when he had beaten the otherworld fighters like Olibu. In fact, he was fairly confident that if anything short of Frieza came knocking at his door, he would make short work of them.

Speaking of Frieza, he had gotten chills from seeing the dictator standing mere meters away mere minutes before. Still, he had things to do, so Him and Puar made their way from where the gathering had taken place and drove their hovercar over to his home not too far away in the city.

Entering his home, he was greeted by the familiar and rather relaxed interior of his house, with the rather utilitarian layout. He had gone through the whole gaudy and excessive lifestyle when he was a bandit, and now that he was somewhat older, he just didn't feel the need to be bombarded by flashiness in his home. If any woman he occasionally brought home after a game had a problem with that, then they weren't a good match in the first place.

Stripping from his Gi and walking over to his bathroom, Yamcha decided to take a shower. His muscular frame was littered with scars, and even after the past ten or so years, he was exceptionally well muscled. While he didn't train his body like Goku or Vegeta did, nor his mind like Tenshinhan or Piccolo, his training was still quite rigorous. As the water washed over his body, washing away the sweat and impurities of the day, Yamcha smiled. The cold water always felt good regardless of when it was.

"I have to go see Sasha tomorrow, we have that nice dinner date set up" He muttered with a small grin as he scrubbed off all the sweat, and the soapy suds cleaned and exfoliated his skin.

After washing off, he toweled off and blow dried his hair. He gave his teeth a quick brush and then he walked over to his bedroom nearby, and after a few moments of deciding he settled on a gray casual dress outfit, for tonight he was attending a convention and meeting a few friends he had made at a nice restaurant afterwards.. His hair took a while to make presentable to non martial society, but he did manage to reign it in a little.

Puar who had gone to the laundry room to clean off Yamcha's Gi for him while he showered had returned in his own little casual dress outfit of his own, for he very much did enjoy wearing matching outfits with his lifelong friend.

Finishing the last parts of his sprucing up, Yamcha took his phone, wallet, car keys, and a few other various things, and made his way out of his house with Puar. They drove over to a large hotel that had it's conference hall rented out for the convention.

The convention that they had decided to visit was a comic convention. It was a guilty pleasure of his that he really enjoyed after a long day.

Making his way through the throng at the entrance, and showing his badge to security, he made his way into the large auditorium. There were quite a lot of stalls where various artists and writers would display their works to the quite excited public. As Yamcha and Puar browsed the area, Yamcha had made a few purchases, including meeting a few people who recognized him from his Baseball career. He signed a few autographs, took a few pictures, and made a few acquaintances that evening before checking the time.

It was in fact just about time for Dinner with his friends and he was so ready.

The restaurant he was going to was on the higher end of the city, so his attire was warranted.

Driving through the city, Yamcha enjoyed himself, after all, his life was much less demanding than when he trained under Master Roshi, or King Kai for the next threat to the world.

Arriving in a quieter part of the megacity just as the sky was beginning to change from dark blue to a shade of black, Yamcha parked in the restaurant's parking lot. He was greeted by a Valet who checked his name on the registry, and led him through the fancy red carpeted restaurant past tables and crystal chandeliers, Various well to do men and women sipped wine, and the subdued clatter of silverware and hushed voices gave Yamcha, who still had a little bit of a hard time meshing with high society a small feeling of unease.

Just for a moment he thought he felt a malicious Ki somewhere in the restaurant, but dismissed it as nothing, perhaps just his overactive mind playing tricks on him. Seconds later, in the farther end of the large restaurant, Yamcha walked up to a large round table with a white cloth over it and his four friends sat around it.

Taking a seat after greeting them, Yamcha began to forget the malicious Ki he felt earlier.

Four days Earlier

Dr. Flappe sat at a desk in his lab working on one of his new projects. It was a strange contraption, but one he was very invested in making. Ever since the Red Ribbon Army was destroyed, he had given up on making androids, and had been working on different types of weapons. The one he was working on now would be his magnum opus. A grenade.

Not just any grenade, no, this one was a masterpiece. He had spread the word widely among the inventor and weapons manufacturing communities about this revolutionary new product of his.

A grenade that used time and space as a weapon to destroy your opponent in a localized area around the explosion. What it did was completely shred the time and space in a five meter radius from where it deployed, completely destroying your enemy from the face of the universe. This one would be the first of it's kind, and was still untested, but if it was correctly created, then these could be used for a wonderful result.

BOOOM

An explosion shook his underground lab.

It seemed his blast door had been breached. Mere moments later, the screams of his security being killed made their way to him.

He froze and panicked, looking down at the grenade.

"No!" He growled as the grenade rolled off the desk from another earthshaking explosion.

The sound of gunfire and more screams were quite close by, and he still hadn't move, stuck in panic.

The door to his lab slammed open, and in ran several large armed men each waring dark blue outfits with shark tooth necklaces.

"GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND OLD MAN!" The first one shouted, slamming his rifle butt on the old doctor's head, then kicking him to the floor.

The two other men pointed their rifles at him aggressively.

Then silence.

The sound of hard boots on the floor broke the momentary silence as Dr. Flappe tried to recover.

In walked a tall but thin man in a dark blue suit with short white hair that seemed too thin, and dark black eyes, an enemy of his from his Red Ribbon days.

"So, the runaway failure is found. You don't look so good doctor. Remember me?"

"Dr. Yargo, of course I remember you you piece of trash" Dr. Flappe coughed out.

Not responding, Dr. Yargo knelt down next to the man on the floor, and picked up the prototype grenade.

"So, am I to assume that this is your newest project that you've been bragging so much about?" The doctor asked, his thin nasaly voice giving him a disgusting feeling to listen to.

Dr. Flappe cried out with a loud "NO", but it fell on deaf ears.

Crack

Dr Yargo stood up and launched a vicious kick to Dr. Flappe's face.

"You work for me now" Dr. Yargo said, motioning to one of his men.

"Tie him up and get him in the truck" Dr. Yargo commanded before walking out of the room. This lab was now his, and he would have time to search it later.

A good ten minutes after having ordered their food, Yamcha felt the Vicious and evil Ki return, this time with a dozen or more so next to it.

Getting up from the Table, Yamcha quickly apologized to his friends before flashing over to the front doors right as they were kicked in.

The same men in blue from the days before came barging in.

"THE BLUE SHARK GANG IS TAKING OVER THIS R-" The mook's words were cut short by a swift punch from Yamcha, sending him smashing into the five mooks behind him, knocking all of them out.

After a stunned moment, the other mooks drew their rifles and began firing at the assailant.

Yamcha caught all the bullets from the air, and returned them to the shooters in a less than lethal salvo from his hands, knocking them out and leaving them with heavy purple bruises, and likely brain damage.

When only one remained, he fell back and took out what looked like a grenade. It was silvery and round, and it pulsed with an unnatural green energy.

In short, it looked dangerous.

Chucking it at Yamcha, The mook turned and ran.

In one of his admittedly stupider decisions of his life, Yamcha caught the Grenade, and crushed it in his hands, making sure it didn't blow up and destroy anything, however, luck just wasn't on his side, as when he did so, he felt a burning in his hand, and it felt like his hand was being sent through a meat grinder.

Instantly dropping the crushed grenade, Yamcha could only scream as the feeling spread across his body, the only thing keeping him from being shredded, was the Ki shield he had put up, and even then, that was being rapidly depleted.

And a second later, Yamcha disappeared from space and time.

Waking to find himself lying in the grass of some local park, Yamcha opened his eyes. A sticky warm substance was dripping from his mouth, and he tasted metal. It took him a second to realize that this wasn't the afterlife, and Yamcha slowly rose. His gray dress suit was ripped and torn, and he had various scratched and bruises. Blood was dripping from a cut on his lip, and he accidentally swallowed some with a nervous gulp.

Luckily there wasn't anyone in this area of the park, and Yamcha wiped the blood from his lips and used a lesser known ability of his. Due to the many many times he had been beaten down, he had found a way to accelerate his healing slightly by expending a little extra Ki.

Within twenty seconds his scratches and cuts closed and he looked around.

There was a bathroom stall area nearby, and he quickly ran over to it. Entering the men's room, he was greeted by a long row of urinals, sinks, and toilet stalls.

Turning on the water in one of the sinks, He did his best to wash off the blood and grime from his body. Thankfully, due to his Ki shield under his shredded jacket, his dress shirt and pants were relatively untouched.

He took off the jacket and tossed it in the trash after salvaging what he could from his pockets.

Looking in the mirror, he looked himself over. There was no heavy damage, and his Ki felt fine. He had sustained no lasting damage.

Now what he had to find out was, where was he?