Bulma: You're staring at me like that, are you falling for me?

"Master." Chen Mo turned around. "There's one more issue with the Grand Elder."

Master Roshi held the tea Popo had just refilled. "Speak."

"Moori's lifespan is almost at its end. Once he dies, all the Dragon Balls on Planet Namek will turn to stone—including the last one we brought back, and the six in Shigula's hands."

"I know." Master Roshi blew on the steam rising from the tea. "I was already thinking about it when you mentioned it."

"Is there a way?"

Master Roshi did not answer directly.

He walked toward the inner part of the palace.

Popo had settled Moori in a white bedroom. He leaned against the headboard, his breathing labored.

Every breath seemed as though he were struggling to filter something from the air.

Master Roshi stood beside the bed for a while, then looked back at Chen Mo.

"Give me another Fruit of the Tree of Might."

Chen Mo froze. "For the Grand Elder to eat?"

"Not eat. His body can't withstand that kind of energy. One bite and he'd be dead." Master Roshi shook his head. "I'll handle it."

"How?"

Master Roshi set his teacup on the windowsill.

"There's an ability in the Guardian's inheritance called purification. It was originally meant to eliminate evil qi and contamination, but at its core, it separates and refines energy."

"A Fruit of the Tree of Might contains a planet's life energy. That energy is too violent. If an ordinary person eats one, their body can only forcibly absorb a small portion, while most of it goes to waste."

Chen Mo understood. "You can extract the life energy inside it by itself?"

"Right. Strip away the violent outer layer and leave only the purest vitality, then infuse it into him." Master Roshi walked to Moori's bedside. "The life force condensed from an entire planet. Even if only one-tenth can be refined, it would be enough to let an old Namekian live a few more decades."

Moori opened his eyes.

He had been listening the entire time.

"Earth's Guardian," Moori said weakly. "Will you waste something so precious on me?"

"It isn't a waste." Master Roshi crouched down, meeting Moori's gaze. "As long as you live, the Dragon Balls remain. As long as the Dragon Balls remain, the dead can return. Anyone can do that math."

Moori fell silent for a few seconds.

"Besides," Master Roshi said as he stood, "the divine energy stripped away during refinement won't go to waste either. I'll absorb it myself. One fruit, two people. It's a profitable deal."

Chen Mo did not hesitate.

He took out the second fruit from the capsule case and placed it in Master Roshi's hand.

Master Roshi held the fruit in his palms and clasped his hands together.

White light shone through the gaps between his fingers.

The divine light unique to a Guardian.

Gentle. Quiet. Yet immensely penetrating.

The fruit's golden skin began to peel away within the white light.

Layer by layer, like an onion being pulled apart by invisible fingers.

Golden fragments turned into motes of light and scattered away, revealing a green sphere of light within the fruit.

It was life energy condensed to the utmost extreme.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Master Roshi's forehead.

The separation continued. Another layer of golden energy peeled away from the outside of the green sphere.

That golden light flowed up Master Roshi's arm and was absorbed by his own divinity.

What remained in his palm at last was an emerald-green sphere no larger than an egg.

It was so pure that it seemed transparent, with countless fine threads of light slowly revolving within.

"Done." Master Roshi let out a breath.

He pressed the green sphere against Moori's chest.

Moori's body suddenly arched. His mouth opened, but no cry escaped.

A layer of green radiance surfaced over his skin, spreading from his chest to his limbs.

The glow lasted for around three minutes.

Then it gradually faded.

Moori lay back down on the bed. His breathing had changed.

It had been heavy and ragged before. Now it was much steadier.

The rise and fall of his chest became even, and the deathly grayness on his face began to recede.

Moori opened his eyes.

His eyes were brighter than before—much brighter.

"This is..." Moori raised his hand and looked at the skin on the back of it, now full once more. "The life force of an entire planet."

"Only a small part of it." Master Roshi took a step back. "Enough to keep you going for a few more decades."

Moori sat up.

"Thank you." Moori looked at Master Roshi. "Earth's Kami."

"Don't call me Kami." Master Roshi walked to the window and picked up the teacup. "Just call me Master Roshi. Kami sounds awful."

Mr. Popo stood in the doorway.

Chen Mo let out a breath of relief.

The Grand Elder's life had been saved, and the Dragon Balls would not turn to stone.

At least not in the short term. They no longer had to race against time.

Trunks had been standing in the corridor the whole time, watching everything.

He walked over to Chen Mo and lowered his voice.

"Master Roshi... has really changed a lot."

"Yeah."

"Gohan once told me about him. He said he was a very strong but very lecherous old man. But now... he doesn't seem like the same person at all."

Chen Mo thought about it. "The lecherous part hasn't changed. Those magazines of his are still tucked in the false bottom of my suitcase."

Trunks's mouth twitched.

By the time they left Kami's Lookout, it was already afternoon.

Earth was enjoying a rare moment of peace.

There were no androids flying through the sky, no Cell crawling across the ground, no Broly going berserk in some corner.

Android 17 was watching Cell in the depths of space. Android 18 had gone north to Dr. Gero's laboratory. Android 16 was on the ground taking care of stray cats.

Chen Mo stood at the edge of Kami's Lookout and looked down.

In the distance, the district Master Roshi had restored gleamed under the sunlight.

"Go see your mother," Chen Mo said to Trunks.

Trunks nodded. "Are you coming too?"

"Yeah. There are some things I need to discuss with Bulma. The spaceship, and the progress on the time machine."

The two took off from Kami's Lookout, passed through the clouds, and flew toward the Seventh District Concentration Camp.

Half an hour later.

At the entrance to the concentration camp's underground laboratory, Trunks landed first.

A few survivors recognized him and greeted him from afar.

Trunks nodded in return.

Chen Mo followed behind, heading down the metal stairs.

Several of the lights along the corridor were broken, leaving the passage in alternating patches of light and darkness.

The air smelled of solder and engine oil.

The laboratory door was open.

Bulma stood with her back to the door at the workbench, holding a soldering iron as she worked on a circuit board.

Her safety goggles were pushed up onto her forehead. Her blue hair was casually pinned behind her head with a pencil, with several strands falling loose around her neck.

She wore a dark gray work jumpsuit, the sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her belt was tied loosely, outlining a neat, capable silhouette.

The soldering iron clicked off.

She turned around.

"Trunks!"

Bulma's face lit up. She pulled off her gloves, hurried over, and threw her arms around her son.

Trunks was a head taller than her.

He lowered his head and let his mother hold him.

"You've gotten thinner again." Bulma stepped back and looked him over from head to toe. "How much have you suffered out in space?"

"No. It was fine."

"Fine? Who are you trying to fool?" Bulma reached out and pinched Trunks's cheek. "There's no flesh left on your face."

Trunks looked uncomfortable from the pinching and took half a step back. "Mom... Chen Mo came too."

Only then did Bulma notice Chen Mo standing in the doorway.

She took off her safety goggles, hung them around her neck, and walked over.

Chen Mo noticed that Bulma looked at him differently than she had last time.

"You've changed." Bulma stopped in front of him, neither too close nor too far away. "Even your presence is different. Last time, you looked like some wandering kid running all over the place. Now... hmm."

She tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes traveling from Chen Mo's face to his shoulders, then down to his arms.

"You've gotten bigger," Bulma concluded.

Chen Mo wasn't used to being inspected so directly.

But he didn't look away.

Bulma really was beautiful.

It was different from Android 18's cold, almost aggressive kind of beauty.

Bulma's beauty had warmer tones.

Her features were exquisite, but her expressions were lively.

Chen Mo's heart did skip a beat.

Then he forcibly suppressed the thought.

Because Android 18 had planted a tracking marker on him.

And with Android 18's personality, if she found out his heart had raced for another woman...

The result would probably be his heart stopping in the literal sense.

"How's the time machine coming along?" Chen Mo asked, steering the conversation back to business.

Bulma returned to the workbench and patted a massive metal casing.

It was the main frame of the time machine, far more complete than the last time he had seen it.

More than half of its outer armor had already been sealed.

"The main structure is seventy percent complete," Bulma said. "The core issue is still energy. The spaceship's engine has burned out. The only energy modules I can use are the concentration camp's backup battery packs. Their output isn't enough."

"What level of energy do you need?"

"At minimum, the full output of a martial artist at the peak of Qi Refining. And it has to be sustained and stable. It can't be the kind that bursts once and then runs dry."

Bulma leaned against the workbench with her arms folded over her chest. "The ship that sent you away last time used the last set of quantum batteries Dad left behind. Now, there really isn't anything left."

Chen Mo thought for a moment. "What if someone could directly charge the energy module with qi?"

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "You mean using a martial artist's qi as a battery?"

"My current base combat power is two million. With the Thirtyfold King Kai Fist at full power, it's sixty million. Output stability won't be a problem. The King Kai Fist doesn't burden me."

Bulma froze for a moment. "Wait. Two million? Weren't you only—"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

Bulma stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"You know," Bulma said, walking up to Chen Mo and taking one step closer than before, "the way you talk now is a little like Vegeta."

Chen Mo nearly choked on that. "How am I like him?"

"It's that thing where you're saying something completely ridiculous, but your tone is incredibly calm." Bulma shook her head with a smile. "Vegeta used to be like that too. I'd ask him what he wanted to eat, and he'd say anything was fine. Then he'd serve up a table full of food that could feed twenty people."

At the mention of Vegeta, Bulma's smile changed slightly.

She was still smiling, but there was something extra in her eyes.

Chen Mo didn't pursue the subject.

"Is the qi-charging plan feasible?" he asked.

Bulma composed herself and returned to work mode.

"Theoretically, yes. I need to design an energy conversion interface to convert martial qi into quantum-state energy the time machine can recognize. Give me three days to draw up the blueprints, one week to make a prototype, and then you can come test the charging."

"Fine."

"We'll see," Chen Mo said. "Earth is temporarily peaceful right now. Android 18 has gone north, Android 17 is chasing Cell in space, and Broly isn't around either. But this window won't last long."

"Android 18." Bulma repeated the name, her tone subtle. "What exactly is your relationship with her? You two left together on a spaceship last time. Trunks told me."

Chen Mo glanced at Trunks beside him.

Trunks looked away, pretending to study the circuit diagram on the wall.

Traitor.

"Working relationship," Chen Mo said.

"A working relationship." Bulma's tone was openly disbelieving. "She killed my husband. Killed everyone. And you have a working relationship with her."

"A cooperative relationship. For the Dragon Balls."

"Mm-hmm." Bulma didn't press further, but the ending note of that "mm-hmm" dragged on for a long time.

She walked to the other side of the workbench, pulled out a stack of blueprints, and spread them across the table. As she sorted through them, she said, "Oh, right. Trunks only gave me the rough version of what happened to you in space. You can tell me the details yourself."

Chen Mo walked over, stood beside her, and began explaining.

From Planet Namek's current situation, to Shigula seizing the Dragon Balls, to the Eternal Darkness, to the Frieza Force.

Bulma listened while making notes on the blueprints, occasionally looking up to ask a few questions.

Her questions were direct, and her points were precise. Every time, she struck right at a critical juncture.

When Chen Mo mentioned using false information to lure the Frieza Force into restraining Shigula, Bulma stopped writing.

"You came up with that?"

"Yeah."

Bulma glanced at him.

That glance lingered longer than any before it.

"Smart," she said.

Chen Mo suddenly realized that Bulma was standing very close to him.

She was pointing at a certain spot on the blueprint, her body naturally angled toward him.

Her shoulder was almost touching his arm.

Her blue hair carried a faint scent of motor oil mixed with the fresh fragrance of shampoo.

"Look here." Bulma tapped a circular structure on the blueprint. "This is the time machine's energy core. If we switch it to a ki-charging mode, the interface will need to be opened here. You'll have to place your hand here and maintain output for at least four hours."

"Four hours?"

"Too long?" Bulma turned her face toward him. She was so close that Chen Mo could see the curve of her eyelashes. "It's not like you'll be fighting while charging it. You just stand still and pour ki into it. It's easy."

"It's not that it's too long."

"Then what are you looking at?"

Bulma's tone suddenly changed, carrying a hint of teasing.

Chen Mo came back to his senses.

He realized that, at some point, his gaze had shifted from the blueprint to Bulma's face.

"The blueprint," he said.

"The blueprint is on the table, not on my face."

Bulma smiled, this time without restraint.

"You keep staring at me like that." She set down her pen, braced both hands against the edge of the workbench, and leaned back slightly. It was a casual pose, yet somehow striking. "Have you fallen for me?"

"Ms. Bulma." Chen Mo kept himself composed. "Your son is right beside us."

"Trunks," Bulma called without turning around. "Get out."

"I was about to leave anyway." Trunks's voice came from the doorway, rapid-fire. "I'm going to check on Android 16's cat."

The door shut.

Bulma laughed again. "Just kidding. Don't be so tense. You really are a little like Vegeta. He's the same—whenever I tease him, he puts on a stiff face and stops talking."

Chen Mo let out a breath.

But only halfway, because the teasing had faded from Bulma's gaze.

"Alright." Bulma picked up her pen again. "Back to business. I'll start designing the energy conversion interface tonight. Come again tomorrow, and bring your Scouter. I need to measure the frequency band of your ki output so I can make the proper match."

"Alright."

"And one more thing," Bulma added. "Thank you for bringing Trunks back. Every single time, completely unharmed."

Chen Mo nodded and turned toward the door.

He pulled it open, left the laboratory, and headed up toward the surface along the corridor.

When he reached the stairwell, he stopped.

Not because of any intuition, nor because his ki sensing had detected anything.

It was because the corner of his eye caught sight of something.

Inside the gaps of the metal vent louvers at the stairwell, something was moving.

It was tiny, less than a centimeter long.

If Chen Mo had not honed his five senses to the extreme during the Ultra Divine Water trial and in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, he would never have noticed it.

He did not look up. He continued walking upstairs, his pace unchanged.

After reaching the surface, he circled around behind a low wall on the outskirts of the camp and stopped.

He took out his Scouter, switched it to microwave scanning mode.

The machine Yajirobe had given him could detect electromagnetic waves. Bulma had modified it, and its precision was extremely high.

The scan results came in.

Chen Mo looked at the screen.

The outline of the thing in the ventilation duct came into view.

A round body, roughly eight millimeters in diameter, with six extremely slender jointed legs.

Two transparent, thin wings, compound-eye optical lenses, and a miniature antenna at its tail.

A bee.

A miniature robot designed in the shape of a bee.

Chen Mo tightened his grip on the scanner.

He had seen this thing before.

Not in this world. In source material he had read in his previous life.

Dr. Gero's tracking robot.

A miniature reconnaissance unit specifically used to monitor the Z Fighters. Its appearance mimicked an insect, and it carried a high-definition camera and remote transmission module.

It could transmit everything it filmed back to the base in real time.

Goku. Vegeta. Gohan. Piccolo. The combat data of every one of them, the details of their techniques, analyses of their weaknesses—these bees had gathered it all. Dr. Gero had used that data to create the androids.