Her Sister Called

At daybreak, while West City was still asleep, the open-air launchpad at Capsule Corporation had already been completely cleared.

A droplet-shaped spacecraft with a matte silver-gray metallic finish stood quietly on the launch platform. It had no bulky thrusters, and not a single seam was visible. It looked like a work of art from a future beyond its time.

Below the ship, Dr. Gero stood in his white lab coat, clutching a data terminal in both hands. His gaunt cheeks twitched with barely contained excitement, and his eyes behind thick lenses were fixed on the fruit of his labors.

"Master Goku, the core is completely stable, and all redundant data has been cleared." Dr. Gero took two steps forward, his voice hoarse.

"Thanks for all your hard work, Doctor."

Son Goku gave a slight nod and turned to step through the hatch.

The airlock sealed, shutting out the wind completely. Inside the cockpit, Bulma was already seated at the control console. She had changed into a practical light-blue spacesuit that showed off her graceful figure to perfection, and her slender fingers danced across the holographic keyboard.

"The antigravity engine is warmed up. We're leaving Earth's gravitational field." Bulma glanced over at Son Goku and gave him a gesture, then pressed a red button.

"Buckle up. I'm whisking you away!"

There was no deafening roar, no plume of flame tearing through the air.

Powered by the core Dr. Gero had designed, the Water Drop Ship rose silently into the sky like a streak of blue light.

A dozen seconds later, the ship smoothly broke through the atmosphere. On the screen, the blue Earth rapidly shrank into the distance. Bulma unfastened her seat belt and leaned toward the display, a wild gleam in her eyes. "I've been cooped up for so long. I finally got out! Dad's always nagging me to take over the company, but I'm not doing it!"

Son Goku leaned back in the copilot's seat, watching their home planet turn into a blue jewel. He smiled. "So this is us eloping? I can't afford the ransom for the daughter of the world's richest man."

"Quit messing around!" Bulma shot him a look.

"The navigation is locked in, and the autopilot is engaged. You can head down to your Gravity Chamber!"

Inside the Gravity Chamber on the ship's lower deck, red warning lights flashed to a heavy, rhythmic beat.

The number on the control panel was locked at a terrifying [300G]!

What did 300 times Earth's gravity mean? A heavy tank placed here would be crushed into a slab of metal by its own weight in an instant. For blood to circulate normally, the heart would have to pump with the force of a nuclear reactor. If an ordinary person could even stand here, one breath would burst their alveoli and crush their bones.

Bang!

A dull, teeth-rattling thud exploded in the center of the Gravity Chamber.

Son Goku stood bare-chested, his muscular upper body glistening with sweat. The moment perspiration beaded on his forehead, the terrifying gravity slammed it toward the floor. Before him, three first-generation SP Series training machines, their frames covered in artificial muscle and built around memory alloys, attacked him without holding back in a tactical formation.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!"

Feeling the strain of 300 times Earth's gravity, Son Goku grinned, a flash of excitement in his eyes. The Saiyan fighting instinct within him had been thoroughly ignited.

As SP-01's sweeping kick came crashing toward him, powerful enough to slice an aircraft carrier in half, Son Goku didn't even dodge. He simply raised his left arm to block it.

Boom!

The tremendous recoil nearly cracked the specially reinforced alloy floor beneath his feet. The muscles in his thick arm shuddered violently from the impact. The solid, bone-deep pain of a real fight thrilled him.

But these machines couldn't feel pain. The instant Son Goku blocked the kick, SP-03 silently slipped behind him, its hand blade gleaming with a cold blue light as it stabbed straight for his back. At the same time, SP-02 sprang up from the ground and clamped onto his legs.

"You even built in this kind of advanced combination attack? Dr. Gero really went all out!"

Facing their coordinated assault, Son Goku advanced instead of retreating. Rather than overpowering them with a surge of energy, he savored the pure hand-to-hand fight. Fighting against the crushing force of 300 times gravity, he twisted his waist with sheer force.

His right fist shot out like a cannonball, slamming into the attacker behind him with brutal force.

With a shrill metallic wail, the armor over SP-03's chest caved inward. The machine flew backward, crashed into the metal wall, and slowly slid to the floor. Sparks crackled, and the red light in its eyes went out completely.

Next, the muscles in Son Goku's legs bulged as he forcibly broke free of SP-02's hold. He followed through with a powerful knee strike, driving it hard into SP-02's chin. The immense impact bent its artificial cervical spine out of shape. SP-02 froze, an overload warning light flashing in its system, and collapsed limply to the ground.

Haa...

Son Goku let out a long breath and casually pressed the stop button on the wall.

The gravity field disengaged, and the suffocating pressure that had felt like a mountain crushing down on him receded like a tide. He rolled his neck, listening to the crisp crack of his vertebrae, and felt the increasingly refined strength surging through his body. Satisfied, he nodded.

"This is what real training should feel like." Son Goku glanced at the nearly wrecked training machines.

It was a good thing Dr. Gero had added self-repairing memory metal to their construction. They were battered and shut down now, but a few days in the repair bay would be enough for them to fix themselves and become tireless punching bags once more.

He grabbed a towel and draped it over his shoulder, then rolled his slightly sore shoulders and walked out of the Gravity Chamber. "I'll take a shower. Then I should join Bulma for a meal."

Half an hour later.

Son Goku, now wearing loose black loungewear and shuffling along in slippers, entered the scenic dining room in the middle of the ship. As soon as he stepped inside, the rich aroma of grilled meat washed over him.

The wide dining table was neatly laid with more than a dozen plates of sizzling premium wagyu. Bulma wore an oversized white shirt, her damp hair casually pinned up at the back. She was walking over with two glasses of freshly squeezed juice.

"Perfect timing. Hurry up and eat. If you don't replenish your energy after an intense workout, you'll lose muscle." Bulma smiled as she slid a glass over to him, then sat across from him with her chin in her hands.

Son Goku said nothing. He picked up his knife and fork and began devouring the food.

Just as he polished off his fifth plate, the holographic communicator on the dining room wall suddenly flashed red and began beeping.

Bulma paused, then tapped the answer button.

The screen lit up. Static crackled through the channel, followed by a crisp, carefree female voice.

"Hello—hello? Bulma? Can you hear me?"

"Good grief, who designed the firewall on this clunker of a ship? It's like a porcupine! I had to ask that octopus-looking guy on the Patrol team for help, and I nearly wrecked a supercomputer just to hack in!"

Hearing the voice, Bulma pressed a hand to her forehead in exasperation.

"Sis, what are you up to now? I'm traveling through deep space. Why are you hacking into my encrypted channel?"

Son Goku swallowed his mouthful of beef and paused.

Sis?

A name flashed through his mind: Tights, the science-fiction writer who spent most of her time wandering from planet to planet and hanging around with the Galactic Patrol.

"Don't give me that!" Tights shouted from the other end, her voice bursting with gossipy excitement and big-sister authority.

"Mom and Dad told me you've gotten too bold for your own good, running off on a space trip with some random guy! Before, no matter what kind of trouble you got into, at least you were still on Earth. But now you've gone and eloped into space?!"

"Sis! He's not some random guy. His name is Son Goku! Besides, you're way more of a handful than I am..." Bulma blushed and hurried to defend him.

"I was gathering material for my novels! And now you're protecting him just because I teased him!" Tights cut her off in a rapid-fire stream of words.

"Bulma, send me your coordinates right now! I'm bringing my friends from the Galactic Patrol to meet you two. As your big sister, I have to make sure he's good enough for you! Beep—beep—"

Before she could finish, Tights briskly cut off the call.

Bulma stared at the dark screen, scratched her cheek awkwardly, and looked at Son Goku. "Um... My sister's always been kind of loud and overexcited. She's used to hanging around with alien patrol officers, so she doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut. Don't take it to heart."

"What should I mind?" Son Goku set down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin, amusement in his eyes. "You left behind the fortune of one of the richest families in the world to follow me into deep space. It's only natural for your sister to worry. But now that my sister-in-law is coming to see us, there's no reason to avoid her, is there?"

He stood and walked over to the main console, bringing up a nearby star map. The display soon showed an artificial celestial body in the star region ahead, converted from a group of abandoned asteroids. Ship signals were anchored all over it.

"Then let's meet at the Wanderer Space Station up ahead!" Son Goku looked back at Bulma and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, Goku, don't go calling her your sister-in-law!" Bulma's face turned even redder. She picked up a cushion from the table and threw it at him, but her eyes brimmed with sweetness.

"But I'm warning you first: my sister's really curious. Tone down your skills a little. Don't scare her."

Son Goku caught the cushion, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Don't worry. The thing I'm best at right now is pretending to be an ordinary person."