Gravity Room

The center of West City, Capsule Corporation headquarters.

This massive hemispherical complex was the pinnacle of human technology.

Automated security robots, anti-gravity floating elevators, and holographic projections everywhere all proclaimed the family's wealth rivaling a nation's treasury.

Bulma practically dragged Krillin through the front door at a near-run.

The flush on her face hadn't faded yet.

Partly from the excitement of the fight just now, and partly because the two of them still hadn't let go of each other's hands.

Servants and robots passing by stared at the scene in surprise.

After all, the young miss had swapped boyfriends before, but she rarely showed such girlish coyness.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

Bulma pushed open the massive electronic door and shouted, her voice brimming with barely concealed delight.

"Oh my, is that Bulma back?"

A blonde, blue-eyed woman who looked perpetually young as a twenty-year-old girl walked out carrying a tray.

That was Bulma's mother, Mrs. Briefs.

She spotted Krillin standing beside Bulma at a glance, and her eyes lit up instantly.

"Oho ho ho, and who's this?"

Mrs. Briefs had zero sense of social distance. She set down the tray and leaned right in.

She even reached out and squeezed Krillin's arm, letting out an impressed gasp.

"What a solid young man!"

"These muscles, my my, such firmness! Way better than that Yamcha kid who only knows how to strike poses."

"Bulma, is this your new boyfriend? Good eye!"

"Mom!"

Bulma's face flushed crimson. She quickly pulled her mother away.

"Don't just grope him! This is Krillin! Krillin! You know, the little bald kid from before!"

"Krillin?"

Mrs. Briefs gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes going wide.

"Oh my, what a transformation!?"

"Come in, come in! Auntie just baked some little cakes. Have as many as you like!"

Just then, Dr. Brief rode in on a unicycle-style hover vehicle, a black cat perched on his shoulder, sliding slowly out of the lab with a pipe in his mouth.

"Yo, Krillin. You've gotten this tall?"

The doctor pushed up his glasses, those eyes full of wisdom scanning Krillin through the lenses. His focus was clearly different from most people's.

"Hmm... your body density seems abnormally high. The ground vibration feedback is different with every step you take."

"I heard an explosion outside just now. Was that you?"

"Sorry, Doctor. We had a little sparring match." Krillin nodded politely.

"No problem, no problem. Young people, high energy is a good thing."

The doctor waved a hand, looking completely unconcerned.

"Just don't wreck the Gravity Room I just fixed."

At the words "Gravity Room," Krillin's usually calm eyes blazed with sharp light.

That was one of the core purposes of his visit here.

In fact, it was second in importance only to winning over Bulma.

The Saitama template was powerful, but as the fusion level increased, the ordinary Earth environment was already struggling to provide effective training.

He hadn't even broken a sweat fighting Yamcha just now.

To keep improving, to avoid being just a bystander in the future Saiyan invasion arc, he had to up the intensity.

"Doctor, actually, I'd like to ask for your help."

Krillin didn't beat around the bush. He got straight to the point.

"I need a set of training equipment that can adjust gravity. I know that's no trouble for you."

"Oh? Gravity training?"

Dr. Brief perked up with interest.

"How many times gravity do you want?"

"Starting at 100 times."

Krillin calmly stated a number.

"Pfft..."

The pipe nearly fell out of Dr. Brief's mouth. Even his usually unflappable black cat bristled, fur standing on end.

"100 times?!"

The doctor's eyes went wide.

"Young man, do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"That's the gravity of tens of thousands of meters deep in the ocean, or the surface of a giant planet."

"An ordinary person's bones would be crushed to powder in an instant. Even their organs would rupture."

"Even Goku, that kid, can't handle gravity that intense right now."

Krillin clenched his fist, and the air let out a sharp crack in his palm.

"If you don't push yourself to the limit, how can you ever break past it?"

"And another thing!"

Bulma cut in abruptly, pulling a stack of blueprints she'd already sketched out from her bag—designs she'd secretly drawn on the way back.

"Dad, you're not just setting up the Gravity Room. You're helping me make this too!"

"I'm tailoring a custom combat suit for Krillin."

"The material has to be the latest Nano Memory Fiber, with incredible elasticity. Otherwise, his clothes will burst the moment he powers up, and that gets expensive!"

As she spoke, she shot a resentful glance at Krillin's orange Martial Arts Uniform, already fraying at the seams, her eyes full of heartache.

Krillin rubbed his nose, a little embarrassed.

He'd indeed shredded his clothes a few times these past days. Ordinary fabric simply couldn't handle the tension when his muscles swelled.

"Alright, alright, whatever you say."

Dr. Brief looked at his daughter with fond indulgence, then gave Krillin a long, searching look.

"Looks like this house is going to get a lot livelier. Follow me. There's a prototype unit in the basement."

Dinner unfolded in an atmosphere that was bizarre yet strangely harmonious.

The long table was piled high with a feast.