After waking up, I made my way to the attached bathroom and quickly took a refreshing shower. It was then that I realized I didn't have any clothes, and a sigh escaped my lips. My armor had taken significant damage the previous day when I was fighting Kakarot. I would have to request that Bulma create a couple more sets. Fortunately, I had stamped her earlier, and the process was already underway. As a superhuman, I could accomplish a lot without being noticed.
I wrapped a towel around my waist and left my room, immediately running into the person I was looking for. She collided with my body and fell down, rubbing her face.
"Oww, what the—" She stopped mid-sentence as she looked up at me, and a blush spread across her face. "R-Raditz, why are you walking around shirtless?!" she exclaimed shrilly, causing me to wince. Despite her apparent indignation, I could sense her heavy breathing. I could see her pupils dilate as her eyes trailed across my muscular chest, and I suppressed a smirk, finding her reaction amusing.
"My armor was damaged yesterday, and I didn't have anything else to wear," I replied with a slight shrug, trying to appear nonchalant despite the amusement I felt at her reaction. Bulma's eyes flashed back to mine, her gaze lingering for a moment before darting away, her face a deep shade of red. She looked like she was struggling to find her voice, her lips parting and closing without a sound. A second later, she seemed to have composed herself, though a slight flush still lingered on her cheeks.
Her eyes kept dipping down, her gaze flicking towards my chest before quickly snapping back up to mine, as if she was trying to catch herself from staring. I couldn't help but smirk; the stamp had definitely started to take effect. My confidence grew, and I decided to push my luck a bit further.
"If you're done checking me out, is there something for me to wear?" I asked, my tone casual, but my eyes locked onto hers, watching as her cheeks flushed even deeper. "Though with how much your eyes keep wandering, you might just want me not to wear anything," I added, letting my smirk grow wider as Bulma's face turned a deep shade of crimson.
She spluttered, her mouth opening and closing without a sound, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape from my teasing. Having no reply, Bulma simply huffed and turned around, her back stiff with indignation. I eyed her swaying backside as she walked away, my gaze following the gentle sway of her hips. "I-I'll s-see if w-we can find anything in your size!" she stammered, her voice still trembling with embarrassment.
I chuckled to myself, convinced that she was deliberately swaying her hips to get a rise out of me. The stamp was working its magic, and I was thoroughly enjoying the show.
A couple of moments later, I heard footsteps ascending the stairs. I had retreated to my room, and a soft knock echoed from the door. As I pulled it open, Bulma stood before me, her earlier crimson flush now faded to a subtle pink tinge across her cheeks. Her gaze was fixed downward, her blue eyes seemingly studying the intricate patterns of the wooden floor. Or perhaps, I mused, her attention was drawn to the pronounced outline visible through the thin fabric of my towel. I was, after all, a prime specimen of Saiyan physiology.
Bulma's breath caught in her throat, a high-pitched squeak escaping her lips. Without a word, she thrust a bundle of clothes into my arms and spun on her heel, her blue hair whipping around as she darted away down the hallway.
I unfolded the garments she'd brought. The light blue shirt barely reached my waist, the fabric stretching taut across my chest. The black pants hugged my thighs uncomfortably, ending well above my knees, looking more like a particularly tight set of shorts. As I tugged at the tight material, I couldn't help but wonder if Bulma had selected these ill-fitting clothes deliberately. Despite the discomfort, I resigned myself to wearing them. They would suffice until I could acquire more suitable attire.
I made my way downstairs, the aroma of sizzling meat and steaming vegetables filling my nostrils. Mrs. Briefs stood at the stove, her back to me, as she expertly juggled multiple pots and pans. I didn't bother to avert my gaze, but my mind was still preoccupied with the lingering arousal from my encounter with Bulma. I had barely managed to calm myself down, and the last thing I needed was to get caught staring at her mother's backside. Dr. Briefs would likely be joining us for breakfast, and I didn't want to make a terrible first impression by getting caught ogling his wife or daughter... at least, not until I could stamp him.
I spotted a glass of water on the table and grabbed it, taking a few quick gulps to calm my nerves. The cool liquid helped to clear my head, and I felt my body slowly returning to a state of normalcy.
Just then, Mrs. Briefs turned around, a warm smile on her face. "Ah, Raditz! I see that you're up," she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I wasn't able to introduce myself yesterday. I'm Panchy, Bulma's mother, though you can call me Mother, as per Bulma's... ahem... sounds coming from her room last night."
My eyes widened in shock, and I choked on my water, spitting it out in a violent coughing fit. But as I looked up at Mrs. Briefs, I couldn't help but crack a smile. The woman was a straight shooter, and I had to admire her bluntness.
Bulma's shrill voice echoed from the entrance to the kitchen, her face a deep shade of red as she glared at her mother. "Mom!" she exclaimed, her embarrassment palpable. I chuckled to myself, still grinning at Mrs. Briefs' audacity.
As Bulma turned to face me, her eyes flashed with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Her face was a deep shade of red, and her lips were pressed together in a tight line. "Not. A. Word," she gritted out, her voice low and even. I couldn't help but smirk at her, enjoying the way her eyes narrowed at me.
Just then, Panchy intervened. "Now, take a seat, Raditz. The food is nearly prepared." She turned to Bulma, her eyes closed, her head tilted slightly to one side. "Bulma, be a dear and wake up your father," she said, her tone firm, though I could hear the subtle amusement in her voice.
Bulma's response was immediate. She let out a strangled noise, a cross between a gasp and a choke, and her face turned an even deeper shade of red. She huffed loudly, her chest rising and falling with agitation, and then turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
I burst out into laughter as I felt myself loosen slightly, taking a seat as instructed.
Soon after, Dr. Briefs entered the kitchen, his white hair, which had likely turned that color from years of age and hard work, was neatly combed back, revealing a few wrinkles etched on his face. His distinctive mustache, which seemed to be a trademark of his, was neatly trimmed, and his eyes seemed to regard me with curiosity as he took in the scene before him.
Mrs. Briefs, who was still busy at the stove, turned to him and said, "Ah, dear, I've sent Bulma's breakfast to the lab through the robot."
Dr. Briefs nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes fixed on me. "Yes, yes, good thinking, dear." He turned his attention to me, his eyes lighting up with interest. "So, Raditz, I've been studying the technology of your pod. I must say, it's quite impressive. Can you tell me more about how it works?"
I leaned back in my chair, trying to recall the details of the pod's technology. As a member of Frieza's forces, we were all taught to be self-sufficient and able to repair our own pods in case of emergencies. I remembered the countless hours I spent studying the pod's manual and receiving training from our engineers.
The day we were being trained to fix our pods, I could still vividly remember Vegeta's disgruntled face, and him muttering under his breath. I had snickered back then - a mistake that had landed me in the healing pod for a couple of hours. I clenched my fist.
"The pod's propulsion system is based on a combination of easily replaceable fuel and advanced ion engines," I explained, trying to break down the complex technology into simpler terms. "The pod's computer controls the engines, allowing it to achieve flight speeds to traverse vast distances in a relatively short period."
Dr. Briefs listened intently, his face contemplative. He scribbled down some notes on a piece of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I see. And what about the pod's navigation system? How does it manage to plot a course through space?"
I thought back to my training sessions, trying to recall the specifics of the navigation system. "The pod's navigation system uses a combination of celestial mapping and advanced sensors to plot a course. The pod's computer is pre-programmed with a vast database of celestial bodies and their corresponding coordinates. By sensing the pod's surroundings and using this database, the pod can determine its location and plot a course to its destination."
Just as our conversation was getting into full swing, Bulma entered the kitchen, her nose upturned in a haughty expression. She deliberately avoided eye contact with her mother, who was still busy at the stove. I caught her gaze with a slight smirk, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing pink.
I turned my attention back to Dr. Briefs, who was still scribbling down notes. "Well, I think I'll pay Kakarot a visit," I said, pushing back my chair. "I sense that there are other fighters on this planet, correct?" I questioned Bulma.
Bulma's eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to me, her interest piqued. "Ah, yes! How did you know?"
I smiled, pleased with myself. With Soul Talent and a single day, I could cover nearly the entirety of the planet. "Ki sensing. I can sense the energy signature of comparatively high power levels, especially compared to this planet's... pitiful natural energy signature."
Bulma nodded, her expression neutral. I could tell she wasn't particularly interested in the details of ki sensing; she had been aware of ki in the show for decades, after all. And yet, she had never thought to do anything with it. Perhaps, after she had been captured, I could help spark her interest in it, or magic at least.
I stood up, stretching my arms over my head. "I'll head out now. It was nice talking to you, Dr. Briefs. Maybe I'll see you later, Bulma."
I soared through the skies, relishing the thrill of flight as I made my way to Mount Paozu. The wind rushed past me, whipping my hair back and forth as I gazed down at the landscape below. After a few moments of indulging in the sheer exhilaration of weightlessness, I began my descent, swooping down towards Kakarot's humble abode.
As I landed in front of the small house, Kakarot himself popped out, a look of mild surprise on his face. "Hey Raditz! We were just having lunch," he said, his tone friendly but slightly wary.
I waved a hand dismissively, my expression nonchalant. "Ah, I'll come back in a bit, I came to invite you for some training and to meet and inform the other weaklings of this planet about the upcoming threat." My tone was deliberately condescending, and I could see the faintest glimmer of irritation in Kakarot's eyes.
But before he could respond, a shrill voice cut through the air, making me wince. "Invite your brother in for lunch, Goku!" Chi-Chi exclaimed, appearing behind Kakarot with a fist cocked back, ready to strike. I let out a snort as she whacked him upside the head, and Kakarot yelped in protest.
Chi-Chi grabbed Kakarot's ear, pulling him down into a slight bow as she followed suit, her movements economical and precise. It was a gesture that spoke volumes about her cultural upbringing, and I was reminded once again that Dragon Ball was, after all, a product of Japanese culture.
"I apologize for Goku's rudeness," Chi-Chi said, straightening up and stressing the last word as she pulled Kakarot's ear harder. He shot me a pleading glance, but I simply smirked, enjoying the spectacle. "Come, join us for dinner, Raditz. We –" she emphasized the word, her gaze drilling into mine – "would be delighted to have you join us for breakfast. There's plenty of food."
For a moment, I hesitated, as I'd already eaten. But then my stomach growled, reminding me that Saiyan physiology was always hungry, always seeking out the next meal. Free food was, after all, a universal language.
"I would be delighted," I said finally, flashing a charming smile as I entered the house alongside a still-pouting Kakarot.
Their home was cozy, if unremarkable – just three rooms and a bathroom, with a circular ceiling that seemed to be a staple of this world's architecture.
As I entered the dining area, I spotted Gohan sitting at the table, his nose buried in a book. My thoughts on the young boy were... complicated, to say the least. I knew what the future held for him, the weight of expectation of the fans that would eventually lead to disappointment. Many, including myself, had hoped that he would follow in his father's footsteps, becoming the next great hero of the universe.
But as I gazed at Gohan, I couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment. He wasn't cut out for the life of a warrior, lacking the innate drive that burned within those of us born for battle. I knew that feeling intimately, having experienced it firsthand when I merged with Raditz. The insatiable hunger for strength, the relentless push to test one's limits, the rush of adrenaline that came with clashing fists – it was a fire that burned bright within me, but seemed to flicker only dimly within Gohan.
His human half had softened him, much like my own merge with Raditz had tempered my own ferocity. Even in the midst of the Cell Saga, Gohan's true nature had shone through – not that of a warrior, but of a gentle soul forced into a role that didn't suit him. I shrugged mentally, acknowledging that he would likely never be the fighter that his father was.
That being said, I didn't want him to grow up to be completely helpless either. A little bit of training and discipline wouldn't hurt him, and might even do him some good. I made a mental note to speak with Chi-Chi about it later, to see if she was interested in letting me take Gohan under my wing for a bit… well after they started to trust me a bit more.
As I looked over at Chi-Chi, I couldn't help but feel a sense of indifference. She was attractive, I supposed, but not really my type. Compared to the likes of Android 18 and Bulma, she didn't hold the same appeal. And besides, there was the matter of her being Kakarot's wife – a boundary I had no intention of crossing.
I pushed aside the thought, focusing instead on the task at hand. Maybe I could teach Gohan a thing or two, help him develop some skills that wouldn't make him a total liability in a fight. But beyond that, I wasn't going to lose any sleep over it. He was Kakarot's problem, not mine.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, the only sound the clinking of utensils against plates and the occasional slurp of food being devoured. Kakarot, in particular, was eating with gusto, his appetite seemingly insatiable as he shoveled food into his mouth with reckless abandon. I watched him with a mixture of amusement and disdain, my own eating habits somewhat more refined despite my similar Saiyan physiology.
As we ate, I cleared my throat to get everyone's attention, my eyes scanning the table to make sure I had their focus. "You should probably cut off kid's tail," I said bluntly, wincing a second later as Gohan's eyes went wide with fear and he curled his tail around himself like a protective shield.
Maybe the direct approach wasn't the best idea, I thought to myself. Spending most of my time with Vegeta and Nappa hadn't exactly honed my social skills. I made a mental note to work on that.
The atmosphere at the table immediately became tense, Kakarot's face falling as he no doubt remembered the incident where he had killed his own grandfather. Chi-Chi's eyes snapped to mine, a mixture of shock and concern written across her features. "Oh, um," she stuttered, composing herself a moment later. "The... Great Ape, did you call it?"
I nodded, taking a sip of my drink as I tried to explain. "It's a transformation that only High-Class Saiyans can naturally control. When we transform, our power increases by ten times, but it can only happen during a full moon or through a technique that weakens the user." I paused, studying Gohan's reaction as he listened intently to my words.
The young boy's eyes were still wide with fear, but he seemed to be listening, his gaze fixed on mine as I continued to explain. "Both of the Saiyans coming are able to control their transformations, which is why we need to train as much as possible and deal with them quickly." I frowned, thinking about the impending arrival of the Saiyans and the potential danger they posed.
I wasn't too concerned about the Saiyans, to be honest. If worse came to worst, I could always fall back on the Catalog and buy a template or a companion to give me an edge. It would bruise my Saiyan pride, but I'd rather be practical.
Kakarot sighed, setting his chopsticks down as he reached out to grab Gohan from his chair. "We'll have to do it," he said, his voice low and serious as he settled Gohan onto his lap. "Don't worry, lil' buddy, everything will be alright." He hugged his son tightly, trying to comfort him as Gohan sniffled and buried his face in his father's chest.
I watched the scene unfold, a small smile playing on my lips as I saw the tender side of Kakarot. Despite his flaws and shortcomings, he was a good father, and he loved his son dearly. And in this moment, that's all that mattered.
As the tension at the table dissipated, I reached out to pat Gohan's head, trying to offer what little reassurance I could. "It won't hurt," I said softly, trying to sound convincing. "And it's necessary, ki- Gohan. You don't want to lose control and hurt someone you care about."
Gohan looked up at me, his eyes still shining with tears, but he nodded bravely, seeming to understand the gravity of the situation. And with that, the decision was made – Gohan's tail would have to go.
Maybe, just maybe, we could avoid the need for 'Uncle Piccolo' in this whole ordeal. Kakarot wasn't a bad parent, he was just... inexperienced. And with a bit of guidance, I was sure he could navigate the complexities of parenthood just fine.
"Well, are you ready to come with me now, Kakarot?" I questioned, my impatience growing by the minute. "We have a lot to do, with very little time. We still have to gather all the fighters," I said with a frown, thinking about the time that will be wasted by gathering the Z-Warriors.
Kakarot scratched his cheek, looking sheepish. "I... haven't really talked to them in a while," he said with a chuckle, as I rubbed my head in frustration.
Just then, a deep, elderly voice spoke directly into my mind. "Perhaps, I can be of aid in this matter?" I widened my eyes, startled by the sudden invasion of my thoughts.
"GET. OUT. OF. MY. MIND!" I gritted out, glaring at Kakarot as if he was responsible for the sudden telepathic link.
"That's Kami!" Goku answered, tensing slightly before relaxing a moment later, seeing that I hadn't powered up. "Don't worry, Raditz, he means no harm."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Worry not, Brother of Goku," Kami's voice continued, his tone measured. "I am not in your mind, I am merely projecting my voice into your mind. I cannot establish a hostile connection even if I wished to. Your strength surpasses far above my own."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "I see, and how exactly can you help?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite my growing unease. If my mind had been read, I doubted that Kakarot would still be so cordial. I didn't want to kill him.
"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Kami, the Guardian of Earth," Kami's voice continued. "I am the one who created the Dragon Balls as well. I have been watching over this planet for many years, and I believe I can assist you in gathering the fighters you need."
I pretended to look shocked, turning to Kakarot for confirmation. Kakarot nodded, and I returned my attention to the voice in my head. "Go on," I said, my curiosity piqued. I had admittedly forgotten about Kami, which in hindsight was stupid, though in my defense, it isn't as if I've had much free time since my arrival.
"I shall contact all of your friends, Son Goku," Kami concluded. "I will make sure they are all informed of the impending threat and are prepared to fight. I will call them to the Lookout and help train them as much as I can."
I nodded, accepting the offer. Any help was welcome at this point. "Very well, we'll be there soon," I replied.
"Thank you, Kami," Goku said, smiling in gratitude. "We appreciate your help."
Guess who's back? Back again! Spidey's back, tell your friends!
I apologize for vanishing into thin air, but I'd honestly lost my drive to write. With college starting, my motivation hit rock bottom. That was until today, when I opened a Google Doc and the words started flowing!
A huge thank you to BlackSwordZero for the Ko-Fi donation – it really gave me a boost! I'd feel terrible if I didn't deliver a new chapter after your generosity.
From now on, I'll be trying to update this story weekly! If you're eager for more or simply have a couple dollars lying around, consider supporting me on (spiderlite) or Ko-Fi (spider_lite). Your encouragement means the world!
Or simply interact with the story! Likes, Replies! All of that help to motivate me. :)
