Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball.

Betaed by: Zim'sMostLoyalServant and my best friend.

Last Time, on Dragon Ball IJ:

The reign of the Red Ribbon over the valley was ended by Eighter, who proved evil should tremble when a good man is moved to fury. And that's not all, as Eighter revealed he had the Dragon Ball that White Corps was hunting in his pocket the whole time, hiding it in plain sight to protect the innocents. Thus the Android was embraced and even officially adopted by the people of Jingle Village as one of their own.

Amidst the celebrations, the villagers laid claim to Muscle Tower, and our heroes enjoyed a well-earned party. But it turns out Eighter is not out of the woods yet! Unable to remove the bomb implanted in him by the Red Ribbon, Eighter had resigned himself to self-imposed exile. But Goku and the Twins are having none of that! In addition to traveling to West City to get the Radar repaired, they will send Bulma to use her genius to remove the doom within Eighter.

As a final thank you to our heroes, the village elders reveal the thought-destroyed Nimbus was in fact alive, letting our heroes resume their journey in style.

But in West City, a dark revelation awaited them. They had forgot they were supposed to pick up Bulma after their detour with Nam! An angry Bulma is a very scary Bulma, and now they must make peace if the hunt for the Dragon Balls is to continue.

See the drama unfold, now on Dragon Ball: Intended Journey!

Chapter 8

Toward the Blue Yonder

Beware the Puma that Prowls!

"So, the Dragon Balls remain in West City?" Commander Red asked. Staff Officer Black nodded, standing next to his leader in the small but ornate conference room. If there had been any change, an aide would have brought word.

"An entire Corps defeated. What a disgrace," Red muttered, putting out a spent cigar in a gold ash tray on the mahogany table.

"Colonel Mustard said he would have the details ready for this meeting, sir," Black reminded him.

"Colonel Mustard, Commander," one of the well-dressed attendants said, opening the door. Commander Red nodded, and the head of intelligence entered to take a seat next to the Commander, setting files on the table.

"Commander, I have the reports you wanted ready."

"Commander, Dr. Gero," the attendant stuck his head in again. Though this time, distaste was apparent.

"He can wait for now. Mustard, what happened at Muscle Tower?"

"Our forces were wiped out. It can only be considered a total and complete defeat."

"…If I had a diplomatic corps, you wouldn't be in it."

Mustard laughed a bit at that, but Black was fairly sure that was not meant as a joke. Fortunately for Mustard, he got on with it. He presented a very disturbing chain of events relayed by those soldiers who had survived and still reported in, and secondhand accounts from Murasaki and his deserting brothers. And finally, the report given by Dr. Vomi.

"I should have known better than to trust that blowhard White with anything. Even when the mission was 'sit on it and don't mess up', he wasn't equal to the task."

"Shall we begin integrating the survivors into the other corps?" Black asked.

"They're all cowards and deserters, I don't need them. Execute the lot of them to send a message."

"…All of them?" Black asked.

"Did I stutter, Black? So, what do we have for leverage, Mustard?"

"Good news there. While the two are ghosts as far as their past is concerned, we believe they have ties in West City, perhaps even ties back to their backers."

"If that's your conclusion from them entering West City, I am quite disappointed," Black said, "You could hide many organizations in that metroplex. We've had a hidden base for spying and black market deals there since before High Command was finished."

"Indeed, it would be ages before we could hope to sniff any sneaks out of a well-made hole. Unless the rats led us there," Mustard said amiably.

He pulled a photo out of the last file and slid it in front of them. A blue-haired teenager with pale skin and blue eyes giving a peace sign and smiling.

"How dramatic, some brat," Red snarked.

"Is that, the Briefs heiress?" Black asked, eyes widening slightly.

"Quite right, Staff Officer. We've been keeping an eye on them as a matter of course for years. The girl we dismissed as an aimless spendthrift thrill-seeker. But wouldn't you know it, she met with both of them in broad daylight in front of Capsule Corp."

"Seriously, she met with operatives on the sidewalk?" Red demanded.

"Well, it was less of a meeting and more her swearing at them. Our agent was too far to hear what was said clearly, but she was loud. And, he snapped this photo," Mustard said, pulling out a photo. This one showed the furious red-faced girl clearly screaming and lashing out at the duo, one holding the other.

"She must be stronger than them for her to get away with provoking someone that powerful," Black said sweatdropping, "But why would she be angry when they've secured two Dragon Balls for her family?"

"Obviously, because they haven't gotten them all yet," Red fumed. Puffing on his cigar, he didn't say any more, which Mustard took as his cue to keep talking.

"Even Dr. Briefs would not be so careless as to give his daughter access to the wealth needed to hire such powerful warriors. So, we can assume she's acting on his behalf. Whether Capsule Corp is acting on behalf of the King or their own power play, we can't say. But now our enemy has a face," Mustard said, putting down a picture of a middle-aged bespectacled man with blue hair, smoking a cigarette with a black cat perched on his shoulders. Red frowned, grinding his cigar into the face of the renowned scientist.

"Very well then. Let's stop smacking the hands and go for the head."

"Assassinate the head of Capsule Corp?" Black stammered before he could think.

"We're the Red Ribbon Army, playing nice isn't exactly our style," Red glowered at him.

"Well, it's not so easy," Mustard confessed.

"What, I'm supposed to believe some egghead can put up a fight?" Red demanded, tucking the damaged picture into his ash tray.

"The Capsule Corp compound has the most intricate and deadly outer defense system on the planet. Even the King's castle is less secured, and the Doctor programs and checks it personally. Those on the safe list can enter freely, but try gatecrashing or just entering outside the protocols and you'll be in a warzone."

"We're an army," Red reminded Mustard.

"Well, you'll need more than we have on hand in West City. Anything less than a full-scale assault I'd call destined for failure, and we likely don't know even half his potential escape routes. Not to mention, such an act would likely cause all-out war to begin between us and the King."

"Perhaps there's another option? The Doctor may remain safe behind his security, but the girl does leave, correct?" Black spoke up.

"She used to attend school, but lately she's become reluctant on that. Ever since she attended the World Martial Arts Tournament, she's only attended a week's worth of school. It might be that she recruited those two at that very tournament."

"This calls for a delicate touch, then; prepare your best team to abduct her next time she's out and about in West City. Better call Hasky in as well," Black suggested.

"I hate waiting on someone else to move," Red grumbled.

"Patience, sir, as long as we have even one ball, the wish can't be made, and if we get his daughter, we can demand anything we wish from him."

"Well, it's a plan I suppose, to deal with them. Any chance of robbing those two while they await further orders?" Red asked.

"My operatives are monitoring them as we speak. If you want us ready to move on any opportunity, I can convey that at once."

"Do it," Red said, before Black could say anything, "Now bring Gero in, that smart guy has some explaining to do."

The man who the attendant admitted now was certainly memorable at a glance. Wearing a vest of gold over a white dress shirt, with black bowtie and dark trousers, he had prominent blue eyes that dominated a wrinkled face with a pronounced nose. Finally, while the hair had receded enough to expose the top of his head, it was styled in a mane that reached down to his waist. A bushy white mustache completed the eccentric appearance, and he pulled it off with casual confidence, taking a seat across from Commander Red.

"I trust we do not need to beat around the bush for this meeting, Commander Red?" Dr. Gero asked.

"That suits me fine, Gero," Red answered.

"Dr. Gero," the scientist corrected. Red scowled at the correction, but didn't press the issue.

"Your androids failed to prevent the fall of Muscle Tower. I've invested a lot of capital into your tinmen in exchange for the promise of ultimate soldiers. When I invest my money, I expect to see it come back to me many times over. I'm not seeing my money, Gero," Red told him.

"Dr. Candi has already shared the data from Seven's fight. He performed as expected; the flaws were well documented, and the reason we opted against mass production based on him. The only issue was the enemy being strong enough to take advantage. Not helped by your personnel failing to keep him fully charged."

"Heh, and the other one? Number Eight, your so-called improvement of Seven, outright mutinied against us. In fact, he may well have killed White personally, and he drove my men off singlehandedly."

"Your men's cowardice is not my affair, Commander. As you remind me, I am a lab rat, not a General to be understanding of soldiers or armies' needs. As for Eight, in addition to general upgrades based on what we learned from Seven, you requested I create a more autonomous-capable Android. A feat I succeeded at beyond expectation."

"You call a mutiny a success!? Are you going senile?" Red seethed, biting into his pipe.

"Success as an experiment, but a failure as product. Autonomy is a sword without a hilt. It would seem that we must walk a fine balance between being capable of effectively following orders without micromanaging and the capability for treachery. We knew this before the incident took place; Dr. Candi was there to see if some simple adjustments could correct the issue. The answer was no. We have entered a bold and dangerous phase in android development. On the one hand, a bold step toward creating the ideal soldier that is both hyper capable and utterly obedient. And on the other, an uncontrollable monster that could turn on its creator at any time. For that reason, Dr. Candi recommended Eight be shut down immediately."

"Why was he not shut down then?" Staff Officer Black asked.

"The activation or deactivation of an android requires a General or High Command member's approval first. General White did not grant such permission before things got out of hand. And I would add that Sergeant Major Purple unleashing an android known to be malfunctioning was foolishness of a suicidal level."

Red sneered.

"So, you're saying it's everyone's fault but yours? If you hadn't already given a son to the cause, I'd be doubting your loyalty, Gero."

The scientist's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Sirs, please, bickering does little good. It seems to me the guilty parties are either dead or fugitives. As leaders of the Red Ribbon Army, we need to prioritize our next course of action."

"Or maybe this proves I should have made a thousand more tanks instead, or hired an army of ninja, as they couldn't have failed as much as your tinmen," Red said, still glaring at Gero.

"But Commander, doesn't the current situation show the need for individual elites of sufficient power? One Corps was defeated and the other wiped out, just by two high power operatives with no losses on their side, nor apparently use of much resources or capital. If anything, this proves the concept Gero has proposed on super solders as the future of military power with mass armies acting as their support."

"…Black makes some points. Do you have anything to say to make me not pull your funding? An android that's strong and reliable?"

"No, it will be years, a decade at least, before I can produce such an android that would be fit for any field action. For now, the most practical course is cyberization. The machine cannot betray man if man and machine become one and the same," Gero stated.

"And you're already working on that?" Red asked.

"Of course, there was no reason to dally when it became clear what the next practical course of action was. But for optimal results, I will need funding for a different array of equipment and materials. Not to mention test subjects."

"And if I met your requirements, what time table would I be looking at to see my money's worth?" Red casually demanded, lighting another cigar as Black visibly relaxed, while the two most important people in the army stopped being at each other's throats and turned to haggling.

X X X

"So, she didn't want to talk?" Mrs. Briefs asked in the hallway. Her husband nodded, thoughtfully taking a cigarette box out of his front coat pocket.

"Correct. I had hoped friends showing up would help, but it seems to have gotten worse. Honey, at this rate we may need to make medication mandatory. We let her pull out of school hoping a different setting would help the anger issues. But to use an old scientist saying, 'experiment failed.'"

"Let me have a go before we go to such extreme measures, dear."

"Very well, but there's no shame in medication to fix your brain, any more than your heart. And from the load work, it seems more changed than her brain and that tail she got rid of."

Carrying a water bottle, Mrs. Briefs entered the gym to the sound of impacts and heavy breathing. A hissing sound proclaimed the death of another punching bag. Bulma paused her workout, wiping sweat on the back of her tape-wrapped hands. Then, grabbing the broken bag, she dragged it to a pile of other broken bags in the gym's corner and went to a neat stack of replacements.

"Sweetie, something to drink?" the blonde woman asked, reaching her daughter. Bulma nodded and accepted the water bottle, and drained half of it in one gulp. Already her breathing was back to normal, and her mother knew how long she'd been in here. Her sexy workout outfit certainly showed her work had been paying off. Nothing as extreme as a girl six pack, but she wouldn't be mistaken for soft any time soon.

"You yelled at your friends today."

"Some friends. All this time and they just forgot me. Who does that?" Bulma grumbled.

"Well, they have been doing things, and it sounds like you joined them on a spur of the moment. Did Lunch even know or did you tell the other one?"

"And Goku?"

"He's a bit dumb, dear, you said it yourself. Send him to retrieve a jewel from a temple of doom, no problem. But send him to file your taxes on the right date, expect a little visit from the not-nice men in suits."

"Hmph, so I'm just supposed to smile and act like making me feel worried and unwanted doesn't matter?" Bulma demanded, drinking the rest of the water.

"Well, no. But do you really want to drive away your friends over this? You already scared off Yamcha by being too intense."

"I did not! He didn't leave, I threw him out!"

"Of course, dear."

"And I told you two, I didn't want him to leave. The plan was that I'd throw him out, and then when he begged me not to, he'd offer to give up his training and focus on me. I'd forgive him on that condition and things would be better. And what did he do? Leave and go train!"

"Head games with a guy who solves a lot of problems by hitting them may not be the best idea," her mother told her. Bulma hung the new bag, glaring at it. Her mother wondered who she was imagining the bag as.

"Well, whatever. Tomorrow, I'm joining this quest. I need something…"

"What do you need, dear? Just ask, and your father and I will get it for you."

Bulma smacked the bag with her head and let it rebound to hit her there, barely moving.

"I don't know," Bulma whispered. Frowning, Mrs. Briefs rubbed her daughter's back, recalling how it would help calm her when she threw a fit as a kid. Her daughter allowed it for about a minute before declaring she was going to shower. Alone in the gym, the wealthy blonde looked over the demolished equipment.

"Goku, I hope you and those twins can help her through this. She just hasn't been the same since she went on that trip."

X X X

My name is Tenma Owari, I made it up. I am also known as the Pink Puma, though you've never heard of me. Such is the life of a spy for hire. Known by many names, yet not known by any of them. Like an idol singer, my feats are stirring and inspiring, yet they leave no trace, as if they never existed in the first place. As forgettable as I am sexy, as misleading as I am honest.

It's okay to feel overwhelmed.

Anyway, the Pink Puma currently works for the Red Ribbon Army. Some would call them evil, while others would call them villains. For me, they offered a fine compensation and benefits package.

The assignment was routine, and highly irregular. Steal two Dragon Balls from two enemy operatives. One by the name of Son Goku, and the other called Lunch or Launch; the boys in intelligence seem to need a spellcheck on that one. Anyway, these two are an uncanny combination of brawn and also brawn. They've got the uniforms in a twist, and so the High Command has decided to play it smart, and so they play their best card, the Pink Puma.

The targets are staying here, the West City Beach Hotel. There's no actual beach access, just a tropical theme at this slightly above low-grade hotel. I cleverly have disguised myself as a humble bellboy to infiltrate without arousing the suspicion of security.

My tip is that they're on the third floor, staying in a discount single. So young and already living in sin. It's a dark underworld I dwell in; be glad you don't have to wade through the scum as I do, sweeping up the parlor with broom and dust pan on hand because you ran into the manager and you apparently bear an uncanny resemblance to a part-timer named Kyle.

My now clear shot to the third floor was cut off at the stairwell by a beautiful woman with purple hair. She was the kind of sexy that makes a man think of the attractive teachers he knew back in High School but never could bring himself to talk to, not even when he was failing geometry.

She told me what she wanted. She and her three clearly illegitimate kids were looking for their pet penguin, and I was the first hotel employee they found. The kids all had different color hair, none of it purple; they were averting their eyes, save the one with blue hair, who seemed in awe of me. Purple Hair put the moves on me. Promising me some adult fun that she'd been longing for if I found their missing bird.

The subject had set out ninety minutes ago to get beer from the bar, and hadn't been heard from since. With keen senses not unlike a seagull searching a freshly cleaned pier for garbage, I soon enough found the bird. He'd commandeered a mop bucket and using an unattended sink and ice machine, attempted to create a portable ice bath, in which he was enjoying the beer.

Taking cunning advantage of the portable nature of the bird's leisure, I rolled him to the room number the woman had put on the business card she left with me. Apparently, she's a security consultant. Poor girl, trying to make it in a dead-end job with likely illegitimate kids, having to wear a fake wedding ring to cover the shame. I'd love to help her, but the Pink Puma can't be tied down, any more than a shark can be kept in a goldfish bowl. My neck's just too thin, it will slip any leash.

The dame was grateful, the kids were ecstatic, and the bird was in trouble because he didn't bring back any beer for her. But with astonishing motivation for the morning, when the kids would go see a movie, I proceeded to my target. With deft cunning, I told the guy at the desk someone had vomited in the relevant room, and I needed a key to clean it up. Thus, I obtained access.

It was a ghastly scene. A veritable feast of fast food had unfolded, and the blanket on the bed was wrapped around the spiky-haired boy while the blonde punching machine slept in her grey underwear, snoring like a lawnmower engine trying to start. Still, the Dragon Balls were clearly in the bag she was using as a pillow.

It would be tricky, but the Pink Puma is so tricky, the only one who can fool him is himself.

X X X

"Ah crap!" Launch cursed, blinking away the sleep. She'd just had the strangest nightmare of a penguin trying to force her to learn how to ice skate; next thing he knew, instead of a penguin, she was punching some guy.

The bellboy, judging by his uniform, was laying on his back, having been hit clear through the wall into the unoccupied room next door. Leaning through the hole, she saw he was talking to himself but seemingly unconscious. Weird.

"Launch, breakfast time?" Goku asked, stretching like a cat on the bed.

"Early breakfast, Goku, we're getting out of here before they can charge us for the hole," Launch said, grabbing the Dragon Ball bag.

X X X

I woke later in a daze, thinking at first that I had gotten a great time with that purple-haired dame. Then the manager demanded to know what I'd done to the wall. I cunningly told him I had tripped. Shortly thereafter though, I had to flee, as Kyle actually decided to come to work, and who knows what penalty waits those who dare impersonate bellboys.

But the mission was not a total loss. Dressed cunningly as an insurance salesman, I returned at the appointed time and met the purple-haired woman whose name I can't recall in her kid-less room. Though I was somewhat uncomfortable that the penguin was there.

The adult fun she wanted was actually poker. I went easy on her and only lost all my money and most of my clothes. When the kids got back, they couldn't convince her to give either back, but one of them did go down to the lobby and buy me an oversized t-shirt with the hotel's name on it and a pair of ladies' flip-flops that were just my size.

And so closed another epic chapter in the legendary and unknown story of the Pink Puma. This will not be the last you hear of it, for you can't prove you heard it in the first place. Though it will be the last time you hear of Tenma Owairi, as I proceeded to change my name again to avoid the Commander's most recent order for my execution.

Such are the burdens of this exotic fast-paced life of mine.

X X X

"Why do I have to hold these?" Goku asked. His face was hidden behind the large bouquet of flowers he was holding. Launch stood next to him, holding a double-sized box of chocolates.

"Cause I don't trust you not to eat these," she told him flatly. They stood in front of the Capsule Corp gates, the appointed time close at hand.

"So, this is supposed to make Bulma not mad?" Goku asked.

"I guess. Apologizing to girls isn't something I have experience with, Goku. Well, apologies in general, I guess. But in all the movies, when guys get girls upset, they get this junk, so it's worth a shot."

"We really messed up forgetting about her, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did… Goku, did you just eat one of the flowers?"

"Well, we paid so much I thought maybe they tasted good. But it didn't," Goku admitted, sticking out his tongue.

The gates started to slide open.

"Crap, show time. Let me do the talking, okay Goku?" Launch said, straightening up as she saw Bulma walking down the driveway, wearing a pale blue Capsule Corp jumpsuit.

"Bulma, we are very sorry we forgot to pick you up and made you worried about us. We got these to show how sorry we are," Launch said, handing Bulma the chocolate box as she reached them. Goku held up the flowers.

"We got these, too. Don't eat them, they don't taste very good," Goku added.

Bulma kept her face blank, opening the box. She frowned slightly.

"One's missing," she said, turning the box to show them.

"Launch!?" Goku protested.

"What? I had to make sure they were good enough to be a present, right?" the blonde defended herself.

Bulma sighed, and ate one of the chocolates.

"Hmm, good chocolate. Fine then, as you two clearly need responsible adult supervision, you can come in and make your case. I'll order lunch, er, midday meal for us," Bulma told them.

"I'm pretty sure I'm about two years older than her," Launch muttered as they followed her up the driveway.

X X X

"Wow, the outside is inside here, too," Goku said, switching his wonder from the robot waiters to the indoor garden, park, inside Capsule Corporation.

"Dang, you guys really are the richest family… are those dinosaurs?" Launch said at they reached a wrought metal picnic table with trays of food being stacked on it by the robot servers and one uniformed butler.

"Yeah, my parents take in strays for pets as a hobby. Believe me, it's downright normal for those freaks," Bulma said, tearing a beer can from a six pack on the table.

"Dinosaurs, as pets?" Launch said, taking her own seat and grabbing a bottle of red wine before Goku could.

"Does that mean we don't eat them?" Goku asked.

"You'd better not! They're pets, not food. I'll show you. Daffodil!" Bulma called, getting up from her chair. To Launch's anxiety and Goku's interest, a mighty T-Rex approached in all its scaly glory. It looked down at Bulma and wagged its tail.

"Sit!" Bulma commanded, pointing to the ground. The dino obeyed her, sitting down on the grass.

"Cool," Goku said.

"Ohohoho! Impressed, are you? Watch this. Lower!" Bulma commanded. The dino planted its head on the ground next to Bulma, who reached up to pat the top of its head.

"See, pets. I can pet them, so that's what they are," Bulma declared, nose high in the air, smiling.

"Well, you convinced me. Is this steak?" Launch said, peeking into the stacked trays.

One Messy Meal Later:

"Ahgh, that was good. So, you need the Dragon Radar fixed? I guess I shouldn't be surprised; it's built to travel, but you wackos play rough and loose, after all."

"And we need you to de-bomb Eighter," Goku reminded her. Bulma waved her hand at that.

"Frankly, I'm shocked that out of anyone, the Red Ribbon has that kind of tech. They must be decades in front of the rest of the scientific community. Are you sure he doesn't have a human brain in there, a high-augment cyborg? They might have brainwashed him to think he's a robot," Bulma asked.

"Dunno, didn't open his head to look inside. But that's not important, he needs that bomb out to get on with his life," Launch pressed.

"Fine, but first I want a proper adventure, then I'll be your repair girl, deal?" Bulma responded.

"Well, Eighter did say not to hurry," Goku thought out loud.

"Goku, I think Eighter could be on fire and he'd tell you not to hurry," Launch pointed out.

"Hey there, sweetie, heard you had guests," Dr. Briefs said, riding up on a scooter.

"Ugh, this old man. Don't embarrass me in front of my friends, dad," Bulma groaned, glaring at him.

"Ain't that just the modern condition of parenthood in as nutshell – you provide so much for your kid, and she can't even civilly introduce ya to her friends. Hmm, I see your girlfriend here is as hot as the magazine cover showed. I've always been partial to blondes myself," he said.

"Uh, thanks?" Launch said.

"Sorry, young lady, I'm taken, and you're too young for my taste these days," Dr. Briefs let her down gently. Bulma facepalmed with a smack that made several dinos look their way. Red mark on her face, she pulled her hand away.

"Okay, lunch is over, we'll go up to my room, then get out of here!" Bulma declared, knocking her chair back as she stood.

"Oh, big meal followed by a three-way make out session? That's my girl," Dr. Briefs beamed, casually giving them all a thumbs up.

"Death awaits you, old man!" Bulma yelled, grabbing the wrists of her guests to drag them away from the old man.

X X X

Bulma's room was one part a teenage girl's room, with a bed, a couch, a TV and posters of bands and attractive young men, one part machine shop dominated by a one-seater black jet of some sort, and one part gym, with the walls lined with firearms.

Bulma was bent over a work desk, exchanging tool after tool as she worked on the disassembled Dragon Rader while Goku sat on a stool next to her, watching. Launch was walking along the wall of weapons, stopping to look closely at some like she was browsing pieces in an art museum.

"You know how to use all of these?" Launch asked.

"Of course. Even the old school models are working models. I'm just lucky I didn't take any of the choice pieces with me last time. They would have been lost with the rest of my capsules."

"Dang, even I've never used some of these beauties," Launch whistled.

"Comes with having a hefty budget," Bulma said sing-song style as she put aside a tool and closed that drawer, "Okay, that should do it. Just a matter of reassembling in the proper order."

"Already?" Launch asked.

"What ya mean? It's been a while, Launch," Goku asked.

"Heheheh, you underestimate how incredible I am, Goku. But yes, Launch, don't forget I invented and built the Dragon Radar, I know it inside and out. If anyone could fix it faster than me, they'd have to be some god-level genius touched by aliens or something," Bulma laughed, continuing to put the device back together.

"So, how are you going to come with? You don't have a pure-hearted half to ride the Nimbus," Goku pointed out.

"As I told you, that cloud has dated values. Besides, it's a non-issue, I haven't just been sitting on my hands or just training like you maniacs. I have built the ultimate adventuring craft," Bulma said, snapping the Dragon Radar back together with a final adjustment. Getting up, she handed the radar to Goku, who checked it was working while she walked over to the jet.

"Behold the Mega Death Wing of Doom, Version 4!" Bulma proclaimed. Launch joined her, raising an eyebrow at the vehicle.

"The MDWD 4 is no mere fighter jet. Its four-wing x-formation makes it forty percent cooler, and contributes to super short-range maneuvers with the backup engine. It possesses a landmaster mode and a boat mode for convenience of travel in multiple environments and weather. It possesses filters and safety measures for hostile environments. The modern adventuress can even enjoy fresh muffins and cappuccino with the push of a button while raining death and destruction on her enemies!" Bulma gushed, stroking one of the protruding warheads lovingly. Launch focused her attention on the decoration painted on it. A Chibi Bulma in an anachronistic flight jacket with the word bubble "I *heart* death!"

"Well, that explains how you're going to get around, I guess. But what about gas?"

"Ha! Ha! My prepared adventuring capsule box has a generous supply of all manner of fuel. Not to mention tools and weapons. Plus, a capsule house, so no need to camp out like wild beasts."

"For someone wanting to adventure, you sure do seem set on not roughing it," Launch pointed out.

"Don't judge me! Unlike some people, I'm not used to living a fugitive life, one day from the poverty line."

That earned her a glare, and Bulma backed down and started listing things she might need to pack still aloud. The door slid open and her mother came in, carrying three glasses of amber liquid.

"Sorry to interrupt the love nest! I figured by now you kids would need some refreshments. Oh goody, and you're all dressed too."

"Yes we are, because nothing happened," Bulma groaned.

"It didn't? Oh dear, must you be so prudish, Bulma? Here kids, have some beer," she said, lowering the tray to Goku.

Bulma snatched two cups away before he could grab one.

"He's underage!" Bulma shrieked.

"Must you be so rebellious? I'm sorry Goku, I don't know where we went wrong with her."

"Hey, I'll take some. Free booze, thanks, Bulma's mom," Launch said, taking the final glass while the daughter glowered at the mother's smile and Launch drained the glass in one drag.

"Ah! Good stuff. Guess that's rich people hospitality. By the way, I'm guessing you're why the old man likes blondes, huh?"

"Oh, he was into blondes long before I came along," Mrs. Briefs laughed into the back of her hand.

"Nononono, we are not going down that rabbit hole of doom," Bulma declared, capsuling her Mega Death Wing with the push of a button, "We're heading down to the machine bay to grab my capsule box, then I'm out of here until I feel like coming back."

"Ahh, but I wanted to get to know your friends! It's the first time you've ever had friends over that you didn't pay for."

"Goodbye, mom," Bulma said, pushing the duo out the door.

Frypan Castle, Frypan Kingdom:

Krillin had never been in a castle before.

It wasn't a grand stone structure atop a mountain, but rather stood on what he was told was flatland that Master Roshi himself had cleared, and was a two-story strong structure of wood and sloping roofs in a classic style, with courtyards and gardens. Less a fortress-turned-mansion and more just a mansion. The throne room where he'd been received by the Ox King likewise eschewed the throne Krillin had imagined for a raised platform with a freestanding armrest for the massive man to sit on, with a massive wall hanging of an ox on the wall behind him. Now Krillin found himself in a more informal setting, a sitting room where the bespectacled giant in the horned helmet was pouring out sake for two. In saucers clearly sized for the king himself.

"I'm impressed, Krillin. As a fellow student of our invincible old master and friend of my daughter, you could have come here expecting special treatment. Instead, you presented yourself like any other unannounced visitor wishing to speak to the king of this small kingdom of mine. Humility and good manners; you're doing better than I was at your age," the Ox King said, before laughing.

"Glad you approve," Krillin said nervously. Fact was, it was more hesitation and fear that had made him play this so by the book. The Ox King had been amiable company when they met at the tournament, but Krillin had been an afterthought, he assumed, to the legendary warrior king. After all, between an old friend like Master Roshi, his son-in-law-to-be, and daughter, Krillin didn't stand out. Even Launch at least had the distinction of winning the title.

If he got the man in a bad mood, the last thing Krillin wanted was to trigger that legendary temper. Which was why he was nervous in pouring the next part out.

"I am underage to drink, Your Majesty," Krillin said.

"Nonsense! Passing the Master's training and making it to the main event of the Budokai is as good a rite of passage as any I've ever heard of. In my hall at least, you are a man, and entitled to a man's drink with a fellow disciple of your teacher."

Krillin wasn't sure if that was how drinking laws worked, but then he was getting it from the king of this land. With some difficulty, he picked up and sipped the saucer, taking as big a drink as he dared. The flavor wasn't what he'd expected, and he wasn't sure what he had. Thankfully, that one drink seemed enough to mollify his host into carrying on with the visit.

"So then, what brings you to my castle? As I recall, you went on a training journey like your classmates."

"Yeah, I went back to Orin Temple to settle with them over their hypocrisy and bullying. It's done, but I'd rather not discuss it, sire."

"Very well. But please call me Ox King or Ox in private. Formalities are for formal occasions."

"Well, Ox King, I was hoping to visit with Chichi and stay here for a while to train in your kingdom's wilderness."

The truth was, he was quite out of money. Krillin was quite capable of hunting and gathering some basic food on his own, and campfire cooking. But blast it all, one started to long for a soft bed and food seasoned with more than you could find in the woods and meadows. Not to mention, bowls of noodles and other stuff you couldn't just hunt up. Of course, he could just work for some money, but if he could get a few free meals and nights abed from a king, why not do that first?

Which wasn't to say he didn't want to see Chichi.

"I see what's going on," Ox King rumbled. Krillin gulped as the large king rose to his feet.

"You… have hit a snag in your training, haven't you?" The Ox King asked, a smile breaking out on his face.

"Uh, yes," Krillin recovered his fumble quick. Ox King nodded and drained his saucer, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Ah, I remember it well, that feeling of plateauing. Nothing quite for it like having a sparring partner to sharpen yourself with. Whether it's discussing matters over rice balls or pummeling each other in a simple dirt ring, answers that eluded you alone, can come with stunning ease when together. Hmm, yes, Chichi has seemed discontent lately, too. Studying often simply isn't fun, but there should be a reward for her bearing with it so well. Yes! Excellent! I'll have provisions prepared for you two to rough it for a week, training in the wild. You can leave bright and early in the morning," the Ox King declared, clearly very proud of his deductions and decisions.

"Oh, that's great."

'Peachy, Krillin, the plan was to train during the day and get to sleep here and get breakfast and dinner. Now it's back to the woods. He probably won't even throw in tents, so we can rough it like the 'good ol' days'. And Chichi will probably just want to talk about Goku or something the whole time. Well, at least we'll have civilized food. Until she eats it all,' Krillin thought, setting aside the sake saucer.

"The princess, sire," a uniformed servant with a fancy hat said, opening a door.

"Ah, perfect. Come on in, sweetie," Ox King said.

A pretty dark-haired girl came in, wearing a blue Chinese dress with a red border. Krillin waited a moment for Chichi to come in, when realization struck him. He was very glad he hadn't taken another drink of sake, and so didn't spit it out.

"Daddy!? Sake? Krillin's underage, don't tell me you're doing that whole 'I'm the king' approach to rules again?" Chichi said, hands on her hips. Hips he could see quite well through the dress. The chest was also developing nicely, and as she turned to berate her father, giving a sideway view, the rear clearly wasn't bringing up the rear.

The loud gluttonous girl that trailed after Goku and the twins was a pretty teenager now. When had that happened?

"Chichi?" Krllin said. Chichi cut off at mid-rant, her father's hands raised defensively before her scolding. Clearing her throat, she bowed at the wait to Krillin.

"Apologies Krillin, for neglecting to greet our guest, and a friend at that. Welcome to our home and kingdom," Chichi said, beaming at him.

'No girl has ever looked that pleased to see me. Get it together, Krillin, this is Chichi. In addition to having eyes full of Goku, she's a martial artist, not some girl for kissing.'

Soon enough, the two were off, Chichi showing her friend the personal training area she had in one of the courtyards. Ox King took a moment to himself, sipping the sake.

'Ah, even though the sweetest thing is love, it is good for her to have friendships as well,' he thought.

"Sire, a courier has arrived from King Kress of the Land of Fiend," a uniformed servant announced, opening the door.

"King Kress is writing to me? Fantastic, my fellow royals are finally conversing with me! I knew bringing brownies to the summit would win them over! Bring the courier in here at once," Ox King cheered.

X X X

"So, have you heard from Goku?" Chichi asked, after showing Krillin her humble little training area. Lacking the time to gallivant over the wide stretch of country like Master Roshi preferred, Chichi had switched to a focus on weights to get more for less time in addition to strapping weights under clothing.

Krillin had noted she had gotten bigger, only to blush. Chichi flexed an arm, wondering if her muscle was getting too much.

"No, I thought about stopping by Master Roshi's and meet his new student Mai and that Yamcha guy from the tournament. But he might not have liked that with how he wanted me to get out and train elsewhere. Maybe we will have to wait until the tournament to meet Goku again, after all?"

Chichi sighed. She supposed she should expect as much. In a way, it was nice that Goku hadn't made time to track down Krillin when he hadn't visited her. Her Goku was nothing if not dedicated. Maybe he had taken the three years as a promise not to see each other until they returned to Papaya Island? Oh dear, she'd have to remember to be clear with him in the future if that was the case.

Still, she didn't need to worry, like some girls. Not only would he never cheat on her, but with Lunch and Launch around, no girl would be able to lead him astray with feminine wiles.

'Maybe I should get a few of those wiles? Lessons on being a proper lady might cover that. Yes, those would be important lessons I must dedicate myself to.'

"You two, we need to talk," her father said, opening the sliding door.

X X X

"When you say demons, you don't mean a mystery solvers and dog hoax, or something metaphorical, right?" Krillin stammered.

The Ox King was seated on the porch while the two of them were on the tiles, a letter held delicately in the king's large hand.

"No, young Krillin. I mean demons, as in the people of the Demon Realm. Creatures of great power often driven by ill intent, at least where mortals are concerned. Back during the Warlord Era, the misery and suffering of that time and from the Piccolo Wars allowed many of their kind to force their way into our world. Thankfully, Master Roshi defeated many of them, along with other righteous defenders of the world. But their world can never be fully untangled from ours or ours from theirs. And weak points, like spots worn in the fabric, endure. The Fiend Gate is one such place. The gate was built supposedly by one of the Heavenly Lords who watches over our world and many others to hold the Demon World at bay. The Land and Kingdom of Fiend were supposedly founded to keep foolish mortals from opening the gate. Well, King Kress has sent to me for aid; a demon named Shula has forced the gate open and has been leading his kind in raiding the kingdom by night, only to disappear with the coming of day. The gate itself stands open; a golden sword of demons supposedly planted by Shula himself in the ground is blocking anyone from closing it while the sun shines. No man nor machine has been able to budge it. So, he has called on me as his fellow king to lend my great strength to his cause."

"…Shouldn't he call King Furry?" Krillin asked.

"Huh, maybe? But he called me. King Kress has a reputation for not being very trusting; he's probably worried King Furry will either raise his taxes or laugh and say there's no such thing as demons," Ox King said, scratching his chin.

"Wow, Dad, you are amazing. You're going to save an entire Kingdom?" Chichi's eyes sparkled.

"Well, we are," the king nodded.

"Huh?" Krillin said.

"Well, I was going to set out on my own, but it occurred to me, why should I hog the adventure for myself? It's time you were able to apply Master Roshi's ideal of defeating evil with a mighty blow in real life. And what better way than against ransacking demons?"

"Wow! Krillin, we're going to be heroes! Goku will be so impressed!" Chichi cheered.

"Yeah, great," Krillin gulped, forcing a smile.

'Oh well, it's not like I had any great plans for my life anyway,' Krillin thought, as Chichi went on and Ox King got teary-eyed over her first grand adventure.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

At last, I can unveil the Pink Puma. He was a one off character originally; but he's so fun to write I ended up having him return a few times in the story.

We also see not only Bulma, but more Turtle students return to the narrative.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Long days and pleasant nights to you all.