Bulma's Plan

The morning sun pierced through the clouds over West City, shining down on the massive hemispherical building of Capsule Corporation.

A faint burnt smell hung in the air, mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Krillin opened his eyes, feeling refreshed.

The Saitama Template's boundless stamina meant that even after several nights of "high-intensity work," he needed no recovery time.

Beside him, Bulma was clinging to him like a koala.

Her nightgown was twisted, revealing large patches of smooth, fair skin, and her breathing was heavy, tinged with a hoarse exhaustion.

He gently slipped his arm out.

Bulma grunted, rolled over, and buried her face in the pillow, mumbling, "Don't move... my back's broken..."

Krillin smirked and patted her impressively firm rear before getting up to dress.

He walked out of the bedroom into the spacious open kitchen, where the sight made him raise an eyebrow.

Golden Haired Lanchi was wearing an ill-fitting lace apron, gripping the spatula like she was holding a submachine gun.

One foot was propped on an expensive mahogany dining chair, her golden wavy hair swinging with her movements, a toothpick dangling from her lips, her face screaming, "I'm seriously pissed off."

When she saw Krillin walk in, Lanchi froze, nearly dropping the spatula into the fried eggs.

The fear of being dominated by absolute power last night shot up her spine like an electric current.

"What are you looking at! Never seen a hot girl cook before!"

Lanchi barked, her voice fierce but her nerve weak.

Her tone was noticeably lower than usual, and she couldn't even meet Krillin's eyes, staring at the bacon in the Frying Pan as if it had killed her father.

Krillin pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his arms, watching her with amusement.

"Is that how you treat your master? Looks like last night's punishment wasn't thorough enough."

Lanchi shuddered, her face instantly flushing red. She gritted her teeth and slammed two plates onto the table.

"Eat! Choke on it!"

The fried eggs on the plate were actually heart-shaped, though the edges were a bit burnt, and the bacon was arranged into a smiley face.

This stark contrast in plating, paired with Lanchi's yakuza-boss expression, created a bizarre, absurd humor.

Krillin picked up his fork and took a bite, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Not bad. Looks like you've got some talent besides robbing banks."

"No shit! I did everything when I was on the run!"

Lanchi snorted, turning to pour coffee, but when she handed the cup to Krillin, her fingers trembled from nerves, spilling a few drops.

"S... sorry!"

She instinctively wanted to draw a gun, but then remembered she was a "maid" now, so she frantically wiped the table with her apron.

That look of wanting to kill someone but having to bow her head put Krillin in a great mood.

Just then, Bulma walked out, yawning.

She wore a silk robe, her gait a bit off, each step like testing the floor's hardness.

"Smells good... huh?"

Bulma rubbed her eyes, staring at Golden Haired Lanchi busily wiping the table, her eyes nearly popping out.

"Am I still asleep? What's that female bandit doing? And what's with the heart-shaped eggs?"

Lanchi, annoyed by Bulma's stare, threw the rag onto the table.

"What are you looking at! You blue-haired weakling! Look again and I'll gouge your eyes out!"

"Who are you calling a weakling?!"

Bulma instantly bristled, unleashing the full aura of the richest heiress.

"This is my house! Want me to have the security bots throw you out?!"

"Alright, alright."

Krillin pulled Bulma onto his lap, casually forking a piece of bacon and feeding it to her.

"Try it. Our new maid's cooking isn't bad."

Bulma chewed suspiciously, her eyes lighting up, then dimming as she held her cheek and sighed.

"It's good, but... ugh, my back."

Just then, Lanchi's nose itched.

The black pepper dust from the kitchen still hung in the air.

"Ah-choo...!"

After the sneeze, her golden wavy hair instantly turned deep blue.

Lanchi's entire demeanor underwent a earth-shattering change.

Her formerly arrogant, domineering stance shifted into a pigeon-toed posture, and her eyes turned as moist and doe-like as a fawn's.

Blue Haired Lanchi looked at the chaotic kitchen and Bulma sitting on Krillin's lap. Her face flushed bright red in an instant. Flustered, she bowed and quickly spoke.

"S-sorry! Did I cause you trouble again? I'll clean this up right away! I'm truly, deeply sorry!"

She began tidying the dishes in a flustered but gentle and virtuous manner, a complete contrast to the female bandit from moments ago.

Bulma leaned in Krillin's arms, watching the busy Blue Haired Lanchi, her gaze gradually growing deep and thoughtful.

She looked down at her own sore thighs, then back at Krillin's radiant face, which looked like it could still go another three hundred rounds.

A deep sense of crisis and powerlessness surged within her.

Although Shenron's modifications had adapted her body to a vacuum environment, they hadn't elevated her physical abilities to the level of a Saiyan or a monster.