Hello to you, dear readers :) Here is the next chapter, which I hope you will like! I've had to slow down the pace of my writing a little, as I just started a new job last week. But since the inspiration is there, and it's still going well! Don't hesitate to leave a comment, it's always a pleasure to read you guys!

Warning: some parts of this chapter contain graphic descriptions of violence.

Chapter 7 - Bulma

Hunting Dragon Balls at the dawn of adolescence. Becoming friends with a group of warriors addicted to martial arts. Being the girlfriend of a desert bandit. Wander from town to town trying to dismantle the Red Ribbon Army.

For Bulma, fighting enemies was routine. That's why, right after the explosion that took place in the nightclub, her brain immediately went into analysis mode.

With the escalation of hostilities between Humans and Frieza's soldiers in recent months, with this deliberate attack, given the number of soldiers that had been sent on the perimeter, right in THIS nightclub, there was no doubt that this attack was a declaration of war. And it didn't take her long to conclude that this time, it was serious.

This time, the enemy would be particularly powerful, and the battle, hard to win.

That's the only thing Bulma's brain had time to conclude. Because shortly after she was knocked down by the force of the blast, she found herself half lying on the lap of the said enemy. And this time, the enemy was a particularly good-looking soldier with whom she just openly flirted. Her brain, generally functional and useful, had transformed into a completely futile organ when she became aware of the situation.

Rather than being pitifully knocked to the ground, she was surprised to be greeted by a gentle pressure on her shoulder, that of a gloved hand which had saved her from falling further and which had contributed to maintain a minimum of her dignity. Disoriented, she leaned as best she could on the soldier, placing her hands on his thighs covered with a strange elastic blue fabric. With flushed cheeks, she took care not to venture too close of the impressive prominence which protruded between his legs, then clung to his armor at the level of his torso. She finally took support on one of his forearms, so solid that it was impossible for her to dig her fingers into his flesh, and stood up timidly, realizing how much she had invaded his privacy.

She raised hesitant eyes towards this oddly attentive enemy, and she noticed without too much surprise that he was observing her with his black eyes. A stinging heat that really had nothing to do with the fire that had just started behind her spread through her chest, and she became even more lost.

Oh Kami.

He was terribly handsome, from this angle, with his severe-featured face lowered towards her, his hair standing majestically in the air and that mouth with refined lines but, oh so appetizing, which she couldn't stop staring at. He looked a little surprised, and looking into his eyes, Bulma understood that, like her, it was not the explosion itself that had caused his astonishment, but rather this imposed proximity that it had caused. Frozen, both completely immune to the screams of terror that rose around them, too absorbed by the sensations provided by their interlocked bodies, they forgot that a war between their peoples had just exploded the same moment this bomb had. They questioned each other's eyes, unsure whether to put an end to this forced caress. Or make it last... as long as possible... until the wee hours of the morning... and even until exhaustion takes them both away.

Bulma, hair all around her face, her yellow sweater half pulled up and her judgment gone, furiously wanted to kiss this man who had just officially been proclaimed an enemy.

But, much more disciplined than her, the soldier pulled himself together before she had time to do any inappropriate gesture. He spoke in his hoarse voice, his chest wrapped in iron vibrating under the low tones.

"Get the fuck of me" he said.

Bulma blinked a few times, but it didn't take much for her to regain her senses. Enough, at least, to realize that someone had started to pull on her arm.

Yamcha.

Oh yes. He was there, too.

Mechanically, she followed the movement her ex imposed her by attracting her towards him. She felt, with regret, the heat from the soldier's body dissipate and be replaced by an unpleasant emptiness. Very quickly, apparently not at all disturbed by their separation, he stood up to talk with the two other armored soldiers.

Bulma was fully aware they were accomplices in this attack. She knew she should hate them for what had just happened. Like Yamcha, she would even be willing to fight against them to give them the lesson they deserved. But, despite their Olympian calm, she could not help but discern a hint of uncertainty and confusion on their faces, and it was impossible for her to suppress a doubt as to their malevolence.

But the doubt was quickly swept away by another series of explosions, which forced Bulma to separate from Yamcha and take refuge under the counter. Her heart beating wildly, she took advantage of her shelter and the relative calm it gave her to scan her surroundings.

All around her, scattered fires had broken out. The thick black smoke and dust flying in the air blurred her vision. Her irritated lungs made her cough. The light emitted by the flames allowed her to distinguish dozens of bodies lying on the ground, those of people injured, burned, scratched and sometimes even dismembered. A few meters away from her, a woman her age was lying in a pool of blood that was growing dangerously fast. Seeing her torn white dress, Bulma felt her stomach turn. She had seen this woman smiling and dancing just a few minutes earlier. Beside her was a man lying in an unnatural position, his shirt intertwined with the charred flesh of his back, his body still smoking, and his face a painting of agony. They were still holding hands.

Alarmed, Bulma intended to rush towards them to help. But she stopped short when she saw a soldier approaching the couple, a charging Ki weapon pointed in their direction.

Two seconds passed. Bulma held her breath, suddenly panicked. Then, a new explosion rang out in the nightclub.

And the couple suddenly disappeared.

Eyes filled with horror, Bulma wasted no time. She stood up and leaned her back against the counter behind her. Eyes fixed on the orange-skinned soldier who was looking with satisfaction at the shiny weapon in his hand, she grabbed the golden bracelet she wore at all times on her wrist. She turned the capsule shaped charms that adorned it and found the one she was looking for. Without hesitation, she slid her thumb over the small switch and a cloud of smoke was added to the already existing one. Immediately, a Ki weapon, her Ki weapon, materialized in her hand and she pointed it in the direction of the soldier who had just coldly eliminated the Humans, ready to retaliate.

However, she was not able to satisfy her desire for revenge, because it was at this moment that the Saiyan with the flame shaped hair passed in front of her. He looked down at her, his attention caught, and briefly, for a short moment in which the orange-skinned murderer escaped, blue met black. And then, he disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

This interlude allowed Bulma to notice Yamcha, who was now facing the two other Saiyans. He seemed ready to fight, while the giants had proudly crossed their arms over their chests and were laughing heartily. In front of them, five small and green beans rolled innocently on the ground.

Bulma frowned, wondering if she was hallucinating. Beans? What good could that do in a situation like this? And above all, why were the Saiyans having so much fun?

The questions were quickly answered when one of those beans began to quiver. The seed's round, smooth surface suddenly became irregular, and then began to grow at an impressive speed. Soon, buds appeared and developed, until they were sufficiently formed to be easily identified as arms, legs, and a head, and in less than a few seconds, the innocent beans had transformed into small green gnomes with a much less harmless appearance, each of them equipped with sharp claws and teeth ready to be used.

Bulma felt her stomach twist when she saw the scarlet eyes of these five new creatures land on Yamcha. Taken aback by the transformation that had just happened before his eyes, he had lowered his guard, and that's all it took for one of the creatures to take the opportunity and attack, hissing aggressively.

But Yamcha was skilled. Despite the gnome's impressive speed, he managed to avoid the attack by leaning towards the ground. The enemy jumped over and landed behind him. The warrior swung his foot, skimming the ground, and he hit the creature directly in the legs before making it fall on the ground. Unfortunately for Yamcha, the creature quickly got up, bared her teeth at her opponent, and jumped into the air to retaliate from above.

Then followed a series of blows so fast that it was impossible for Bulma to see them. Crouching on the ground, she figured it would probably be appropriate to make herself useful, and she raised her weapon in the direction of the fighting duo.

"Shit!" she growled, frustrated.

It was impossible to aim correctly at the speed they were going. If she fired, there was a good chance she would miss, and Yamcha would be injured. Instead, she instinctively pointed her weapon at the four other gnomes who were watching the joust and aimed at the closest one. She pulled the trigger, and the explosion of Ki that followed mingled with those already raging around them. Except that, this time, the explosion was very different. Much less noisy, much more contained, and above all, much more powerful on the enemy. Even if the weapon she held in her hand had originally been stolen from a soldier of Frieza, Bulma had modified it a lot, transforming something rather raw into a technological marvel, like almost everything she touched. And thanks to her genius mind, the little man had no chance. His body liquefied, literally, and the viscous fluids produced spread in all directions, the majority of it falling with a limp sound to the ground.

The explosion, by its singularity, did not go unnoticed. Yamcha, still engaged in fighting, was distracted for a second, and he turned towards Bulma, a look of horror tinting his irises as he realized that she was the one who had caused the commotion. The two Saiyans, also intrigued by the brutal elimination of the gnome, looked at her in amazement. The one with long hair glanced at the weapon in her hand. He frowned and took a step towards her. Instinctively, Bulma raised her weapon towards him.

"Oh, little Human, do you really think Ki weapons can hurt me?" he laughed.

Yamcha rushed forward, leaving the gnome who was watching the viscous puddle spreading at the young woman's feet, and positioned himself between her and the Saiyan.

"Don't even think to go near her, otherwise I'll kill you!" he cried.

The Saiyan stopped, and laughed harder. All three stood in suspense, each wondering who would be the first to make a move. No one saw the green creature sneak up behind a distracted Yamcha and before Bulma even noticed its presence, it had jumped on the back of her ex-boyfriend. With its small arms and short legs, the gnome hugged his body to hold him firmly. Yamcha struggled, emitting muffled grunts. The two Saiyans instinctively stepped back, an unhealthy smile on their lips. Seeing them walk away, Bulma knew that something terrible was about to happen.

"Yamcha! NO!" she shouted uselessly.

But it was too late already. The green man began to glow in the dark, his Ki seeping from every pore of his skin. Yamcha began to scream as he felt the thousands of energy needles pierce his skin and, horrified, Bulma saw the gnome transform into a living bomb when he finally released all the energy his body contained. The explosion, too loud and too close, forced her to cower under the counter. Head under her arms, Bulma felt a blast of heat burn her shoulder. The pain was intense, but it was quickly forgotten once the burst faded, the feeling of anguish piercing her chest being even more painful. She raised her head to look in the direction where Yamcha had stood, straight, brave, protective, moments earlier.

And her stomach lurched when she saw that he was no longer there.

"YAMCHA!" Bulma screamed as she rushed towards the deep crater that had formed in the ground.

The action was stupid, completely imprudent in such a situation. But the emotion had been too strong for her to think about her safety. Bulma had time to see, in the center of the cavity that had dug out in the concrete, a body, a silhouette folded on itself, still smoking and covered with wounds glistening with blood and charred flesh. A desperate sob escaped her lips, and she intended to go down into the cavity to reunite with her friend. But it was at this moment that she was suddenly pulled back.

"Not so fast, pretty lady" said a honeyed voice behind her.

Bulma, her eyes filled with tears of fear, rage and pain, screamed at the top of her lungs while a cold hand circled her arm to take hold of it. She struggled, gesticulating in every direction to free herself, but the force of the grip was far too great for her to do anything. Through her desperate dance, she could see a blue silhouette towering over her.

"Zarbon?" said a voice she recognized as that of the long-haired Saiyan. "What are you doing here?"

Bulma suddenly froze. Zarbon. This name was familiar. She had heard it several times in communications published by the Resistance. He was Frieza's right-hand man, the highest-ranking General of his army. It was said that he only traveled during highly important interventions.

Indeed. What the hell was he doing here?

Bulma turned towards the silhouette to put an image on the name. She shook her head vigorously to try to get rid of the tears bathing her eyes, and through the dust and thick smoke that enveloped them, she saw the face of the famous right-hand man of the emperor. With his distinguished features, almost translucent bluish skin and super-long braided hair, her first thought was that he was horribly handsome. But this idea was quickly chased from her mind when she felt the coldness emanating from the guy. Everyone around her had stiffened, as if frozen when they realized his presence. Bulma pressed the switch on the Ki weapon she still held in her free hand, which instantly folded inside its capsule attached to her bracelet. She had the feeling it was better that this man did not get his hands on her invention.

Fortunately, Zarbon's attention was focused on something other than the frail Human he was holding prisoner, and he did not notice her doings.

"Raditz. Nappa." Zarbon said, a mocking tone in his voice. "Where's your little shadow? Where did he put his nose again? I thought you three were responsible for overseeing operations."

The accusatory tone Zarbon used to pronounce the last sentence indicated that he was not really expecting an answer from the Saiyans. They just shut up and looked carefully at their feet while gritting their teeth. Zarbon dragged his gaze to the craters at his feet, where Yamcha's limp body lay.

"Poor Human." he said, falsely saddened. "Did you guys do this? Too bad he died so quickly, I could have brought him back to the ship with me. He looked cute. What do you think, Raditz?"

Zarbon's words reignited Bulma's rage. She let out a growl of fury and began to struggle again in all directions. She couldn't stand another second of being trapped in that icy hand and above all, she couldn't stand being forced into uselessness any longer.

"Yamcha is not dead!" she shouted at Zarbon, who was completely immune to her attempts at liberation. "Let go of me immediately! He needs help!"

Zarbon glanced sideways at Bulma. Then, to her surprise, he released her arm. The freedom was brief, however, because she soon found herself trapped in new hands, those of a soldier who was waiting to be told what to do.

"Make her silent." Zarbon ordered to the one who had just caught her. "And take her back to the ship with the others."

Bulma's eyes opened widely. She intended to protest, but swallowed her words when she felt teeth sink into her arm.

"But what..."she stammered.

A split second later, her vision started to blur. The fire, the smoke, the dust, the blood, the screams of horror, the Saiyans... the inanimate body of Yamcha. Everything gradually became very unrealistic, except for the vivid sensation of burning liquid penetrating her flesh where she had been bitten.

And then, everything went black.