Vitelli and Bulma, however, didn't leave with the crowd.
For them, the not particularly intense tournament had already ended, but now was the perfect time to enjoy some time alone together.
Leaving the noise behind, they decided to stay a little longer on the island, now peaceful once more.
The sun was shining brightly. On the fine sandy beach, Vitelli and Bulma cuddled together on a wide beach chair, enjoying this rare moment of leisure.
That morning, some of the tourists who had witnessed Vitelli's incredible performance at the Martial Arts Tournament had eagerly come over to ask for photos.
Vitelli was quite patient with them, always obliging with a faint smile.
Watching from the side, Bulma didn't feel bothered at all. Instead, she felt a swell of pride—as if to say, Look, this is my man, Bulma's. Handsome, isn't he?
Now the tourists had finally mostly cleared out. All that remained around them was the whisper of the waves and the occasional sight of a seagull gliding by. It was as if the world belonged to just the two of them.
Vitelli let out a satisfied sigh, drained the cold coconut wine in his hand, and gave a contented "Ah."
He shifted position, naturally wrapping both arms around Bulma's slender waist and drawing her more comfortably into his embrace. Then he relaxed against the back of the chair.
Warm sunlight fell on him, a gentle sea breeze brushed against his skin and brought a touch of coolness, the soft murmur of the waves and cries of seagulls filled his ears, and his beloved rested in his arms...
All of it left Vitelli feeling completely relaxed and comfortable. He was so at ease he was almost ready to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.
However, the peace didn't last long.
"Vitelli!"
A clear, lively shout struck the calm like a pebble tossed into a still lake, instantly shattering their serenity.
Vitelli reluctantly opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on the source of the voice.
Goku's ever-cheerful face came into view as he ran toward them with eager, light-footed strides.
Vitelli let out a long, silent sigh. His brows knit together, and an expression of weary resignation crossed his face, as if to say, "Here we go again."
He grumbled inwardly, Seriously, why is it so hard to enjoy a quiet vacation? There's always someone coming along to interrupt...
Seeing the disgruntled look on Vitelli's face, and how he couldn't quite bring himself to complain, Bulma couldn't help but burst out laughing.
She reached over and gently ruffled Vitelli's unruly black hair, as if soothing a sulky big cat.
"All right, all right," she said with a smile, as if placating a child. "Goku's just a kid. He's not a stranger, so why get worked up over it? He's running over in such a hurry, so it must be important."
Vitelli shook his head, pushing down his irritation at being interrupted. He sat up straight and looked toward Goku, who had nearly reached them. "What's up? You came running over in such a rush. Did you need something?"
Goku skidded to a stop in front of them, his little chest still rising and falling slightly, but his face flushed with excitement. "Master Roshi said he's treating everyone to a meal! I came especially to find you two!"
As he spoke, he pointed in the direction he had come from.
Looking at Goku's pure, expectant smile, and especially considering that the word "food" had still reminded him to run all the way over and let Vitelli and Bulma know, Vitelli fell silent for a moment. The irritation in his heart was instantly replaced by a subtle warmth.
He reached out and gently pinched Goku's chubby cheek, his voice softening. "Thanks, Goku. It's sweet of you to think of us and come get us, even after hearing there was food."
Bulma smiled and leaned over too, ruffling Goku's messy hair. "Exactly! What a good boy, Goku!"
"Hey, you two, quit patting my head!" Goku shook his head, like a reluctant little animal trying to escape their "clutches." He looked a little pleased as he did.
"Come on, let's go! Master Roshi's already waiting for us at the restaurant! If we're late, all the good food will be gone!" The moment Goku mentioned the restaurant and tasty food, his eyes lit up brilliantly. A string of drool even slipped from the corner of his mouth, amusing Vitelli and Bulma.
"Haha, okay! Let's go!" Vitelli and Bulma exchanged smiles and quickly got to their feet.
They returned to the hotel where they were staying, swiftly changed out of their swimsuits and into comfortable casual clothes, then followed Goku, who kept urging them to hurry, to one of the island's nicer restaurants.
When they opened the door to the private dining room, Master Roshi, no longer disguised as Jackie Chun, was already seated inside with his little bald student, Krillin.
The round table was laden with all kinds of dishes, their delicious aromas wafting through the room.
Clearly, Master Roshi had decided to splurge a little.
"Master Roshi, I brought Vitelli and Bulma! Can we eat now?"
The moment Goku entered, his eyes locked onto the food spread across the table. He was practically drowning in drool, and eagerly pulled out a chair to sit down.
Master Roshi cleared his throat and sat up straight, putting on the air of an elder. He wore a smile that he was trying very hard to make look kindly.
"Ahem, well... everyone's here now. Good! Before we dig in, I'd like to say a few words..."
But before he could even finish saying "two" in "a few words," Goku had already grabbed his chopsticks and shouted energetically, "Let's eat!"
Then he launched into the nearest dish with the speed of a whirlwind, cheeks instantly puffing out like a little hamster's.
Watching Goku completely ignore him, his eyes fixed only on the food like a starving man, and seeing Master Roshi freeze in his seat as if he'd turned to stone, Bulma couldn't hold back. She burst out laughing, her clear laughter filling the private dining room.
Krillin reacted with lightning speed!
He was one of the "victims" who knew all too well how much Goku could eat, and he had also seen Vitelli's equally bottomless appetite.
Seeing Goku already digging in and Vitelli sit down with a gleam in his eyes, how could Krillin hesitate?
Without a word, he immediately picked up the largest plate in front of him and swiftly began piling on all kinds of meat and what looked like the most expensive dishes. His movements were so quick, he seemed like a trained professional!
He had only one thought: whoever grabbed food fastest would get it! If he didn't hurry, this table might be wiped clean in less than three minutes!
Master Roshi stared blankly at the chaotic opening: Goku was stuffing his face, Vitelli had joined the fray without falling behind, Krillin had turned into a "food transporter," frantically stockpiling dishes, while Bulma laughed so hard at the side she could barely sit still.
The speech he'd been preparing was completely dead in the water. He gave an awkward laugh or two, then forgot all about acting like an elder or making a speech. He hurriedly grabbed his chopsticks and joined the "battle."
If he didn't hurry, he might not even get a sip of soup! He had seen Goku's ridiculous appetite with his own eyes, and with the bottomless Vitelli added to the mix... the outcome of this meal was already clear.
"Waiter! Two more huge platters of fried rice over here! The biggest ones you have!" Bulma called to the server with a practiced wave, watching the plates in front of Vitelli empty at an astonishing rate.
"And two more big servings of pork cutlet rice! The largest portions you have!" she added, sounding as casual as if she were ordering drinks.
Watching Bulma calmly place one order after another, and seeing the mountain of food disappear before his eyes, Master Roshi's expression gradually turned incredulous, even a little horrified.
He couldn't help putting down his chopsticks. His voice trembled slightly. "Th-that's enough! That's enough, kids! You should only eat until you're about seventy percent full! You need to start looking after your health while you're young! Don't force yourselves!"
However, Vitelli and Goku, the two main eaters, seemed to have entered a state of perfect harmony with the food.
They were completely absorbed, oblivious to everything around them. Their chopsticks blurred as they focused on one thing—devouring every edible thing in sight.
At that moment, all that mattered to them was chewing and swallowing. Master Roshi's warnings were automatically filtered out like background noise.
When the last pork cutlet disappeared into Vitelli's mouth and Goku scraped up the final grains of fried rice, their grand "clean plate campaign" finally came to an end.
When the server came over with the bill, his professional smile looked a little strained.
Master Roshi accepted the bill with something close to reverence, his feelings a mixture of anticipation and dread.
But the moment his eyes fell on the prominent number at the bottom of the bill, it was as if lightning had struck him. He sprang from his seat, his voice rising several octaves with a sharp, disbelieving edge.
"H-how much?!!! O-one million three hundred thousand?!!!"
His sunglasses nearly slid off his nose. He pointed at the astronomical figure with a trembling finger, his eyes wide as saucers. "Did you accidentally add an extra zero?!!"
The restaurant manager hurried over, wearing a flawlessly apologetic professional smile. He bowed slightly, but his tone was certain.
"We sincerely apologize for the shock, sir. But your total is indeed one million three hundred thousand. We've checked the bill repeatedly, and not a single digit is incorrect." His manner was respectful, but his position was firm.
"B-but isn't that price completely outrageous?!"
Master Roshi flailed his arms, searching for some reasonable explanation.
"The World Martial Arts Tournament! It's an event that brings together the world's top fighters! The champion's prize money is only five hundred thousand! Why does one meal here cost one million three hundred thousand? D-does that make any sense?! It can't possibly be reasonable!"
He tried to reason with the manager.
The manager's smile remained polite, but there was a hint of disdain in his eyes, as if to say, "Have you no idea what you've done?"
He didn't argue further. He simply stepped aside with an air of "the evidence speaks for itself" and pointed at the open space behind Master Roshi's seat.
Master Roshi turned around, confused, following the manager's gesture.
The next second, he froze completely.
In the open space behind him stood a mountain of enormous empty plates and bowls, towering like a range made of dishes and tableware!
The plates were astonishingly large, each big enough to hold a whole family-sized meal. The deep soup bowls were left with nothing but oily streaks.
This mountain of dishes silently told the tale of the battle's carnage and glory. Its visual impact far surpassed any verbal explanation.
Master Roshi stared open-mouthed at the monument Goku and the others had built with their own hands, feeling dizzy.
At last, he understood where the one million three hundred thousand had gone.
His lips trembled. With one last faint glimmer of hope, he looked at the manager and asked hoarsely, "P-please... could I... could I wash dishes to pay the bill?" His voice was so meek it was almost pleading.
Looking at Master Roshi's world-is-ending expression, and at the baffled, innocent faces of Krillin and Goku, Bulma couldn't help bursting out laughing again.
She took a black card from her elegant handbag and handed it to the manager, giving a carefree wave. "All right, just put it on my card."
She turned to Master Roshi, who looked like he'd just escaped a catastrophe, and winked mischievously. "Master Mutaito, you really splurged this time. We appreciate the thought!"
Master Roshi's old face flushed red. He hurriedly thanked Bulma while wiping the cold sweat from his brow and muttering things like, "I'll definitely be more careful next time." His embarrassed yet grateful look brought the farce of the exorbitantly expensive dinner to a comically perfect end.
After saying goodbye to Master Roshi and the two little ones, Vitelli and Bulma were finally free of all interruptions.
For three full days, beneath Papaya Island's pure sunshine, on its soft beaches and in its clear waters, they enjoyed time together that belonged entirely to them.
There was no tedious training and no third wheels to bother them. There were only the sea breeze, the waves, the starlight, and their laughter.
Vitelli enjoyed a rare chance to relax, while Bulma let her lively, sweet, girlish side shine.
However, their three-day vacation flew by. When their return ship landed on the wide airstrip at the Capsule Corp estate in West City, Vitelli drew a deep breath of the familiar air, with its blend of engine oil and flowers, and a long-missed restlessness began surging through his blood.
They had been away for many days. Apart from the last three days of pure relaxation on Papaya Island, most of the time before that had been spent competing and sightseeing. His intense training had practically come to a standstill.
Vitelli felt uncomfortable all over, as if a lazy "itch" had seeped into the very gaps between his bones.
It was the discomfort of his strength no longer advancing, a silent cry from deep within his body for the thrill of challenging his limits.
"The Gravity Chamber! Oh, the Gravity Chamber!" Vitelli roared silently inside, his eyes involuntarily drifting toward the familiar, massive metal building in the depths of the estate. "How can I live without you?"
The joy of returning home was instantly replaced by an almost reverent impatience.
The moment he stepped onto the estate's lawn, Vitelli could hardly restrain himself.
He didn't even have time to exchange more than a few words with Dr. Brief and Mrs. Brief, who had come out to greet them. He only hurriedly said, "I'm heading over there first," to Bulma, then became a blur of wind as he raced toward the Gravity Chamber.
His urgency and focus made it seem as if a lover he hadn't seen in ages were waiting for him up ahead.
Bulma watched him disappear into the distance. She put her hands on her hips, half annoyed and half amused, and called after him, "Hey! Vitelli! You jerk! Couldn't you even say goodbye properly? You're such a training-obsessed blockhead! Jerk!"
She said "jerk" in a deliberately scornful tone, but her eyes sparkled with understanding and indulgent affection. Of course she knew what the Gravity Chamber meant to him. It was almost part of his relentless pursuit of strength.
Shaking her head, Bulma's feigned annoyance was quickly replaced by a different kind of excitement—that of a focused, eager genius scientist.
Now that the vacation was over, she was back on the battlefield too!
"Hmph, you blockhead. Just you wait!" she muttered, turning and striding toward her own high-tech laboratory, light-footed but determined.
She had solemnly promised Vitelli that she would develop a more advanced new generation of Gravity Chamber, with a higher gravity multiplier! The challenge excited her just as much.
By the floor-to-ceiling window, Mrs. Brief held an elegant teacup as she took in her younger daughter's grumbling, the tenderness in her eyes as she watched Vitelli's retreating figure, and the energetic determination in her step as she headed for the laboratory.
She couldn't help turning to Dr. Brief, who was gazing outside as well, and saying with a smile, "Dear, look at little Bulma and little Vitelli. One chases after strength, and the other chases after technology. They're both so energetic and so sure of their goals. They really do make a perfect pair."
Dr. Brief pushed up his glasses. He looked toward the backyard, where the muffled rumbling hinted that someone had already begun training like mad, then glanced at the light shining in his daughter's laboratory. He nodded in complete agreement.
He took a sip of red wine and said calmly, "Mm... they're full of energy. That's nice." Life at the estate quickly returned to its uniquely lively rhythm—the roar of the Gravity Chamber and the glow of the laboratory weaving together into the familiar background music of their home.
Chapter 13: A Strange Way to Transform, Vitelli the Super Saiyan!
Time slipped quietly by like sand through one's fingers, and several months passed in the blink of an eye.
One afternoon, with the sun shining brightly, Bulma was enjoying a rare moment of peace in an elegant wicker chair in the courtyard, holding a cup of steaming red tea.
Suddenly, the faint scrape of the Gravity Chamber's heavy alloy door sliding open broke the serenity.
Bulma turned in surprise. Vitelli stepped out, wearing an unusual expression of frustration and helplessness.
He didn't, as usual, emerge drenched in sweat and steaming with heat before throwing himself into another round of training. Instead, he walked straight over to her.
"Well, this is rare, Vitelli!"
Bulma set down her teacup, her sapphire-blue eyes full of surprise. "You actually came out before dinner instead of training straight through until evening? Did the sun rise in the west? Or... did you finally break the Gravity Chamber?"
She asked half jokingly, though a hint of concern was stirring inside her.
Vitelli dropped into the empty seat beside her, looking rather dejected.
He picked up Bulma's perfectly warm tea and gulped down several large swallows without even looking at it. Then he let out a long breath and said with a deep frown, "Don't ask! I think I've hit a bottleneck lately!"
His voice was gloomy, and the energy usually present in it had faded.
"Even when I push myself to the limit in the Gravity Chamber you built, it feels like I'm punching through cotton. My strength has barely grown at all, and my body's toughness has hit a wall too!"