Tights and Jaco

Space Station B was far better than the smog-choked docking bay. The holographic lighting here had been adjusted to a soft glow, and there were even alien plants cultivated with artificial gravity along the streets.

A semi-open bar called Stellar Wreckage was blasting heavy metal with a pounding beat.

In a booth tucked into the corner by the bar, Tights idly stirred the blue mixed drink in her glass. She wore her blonde hair short, and there was an easygoing, artistic air about her features.

On the sofa across from her sat someone who looked completely out of place in a bar like this.

He wore a tight white uniform, had a head as round as a peeled egg, and did not even have a nose. Most striking of all were the enormous egg-yolk-yellow eyes on his face.

"Say, Tights, are you sure your sister doesn't have a fever in her brain?"

The short alien folded his arms and cockily propped both feet on the table. "Drifting around the universe with some Earth native who doesn't even have an interstellar ID code? How is that any different from courting death? If it weren't for you, this super elite wouldn't waste his patrol time in a dump like this!"

"Give it a rest, Jaco. Stop talking big."

Tights rolled her eyes and mercilessly exposed him. "Who was it that got stranded on Sirius last month after his ship broke down and its shield shattered? If I hadn't gone over and hauled you aboard, you'd still be floating around like space junk, you super elite!"

"Ahem! That was a mechanical malfunction beyond my control!" The Galactic Patrolman named Jaco flushed, craning his neck as he tried to save face. "Besides, I had already made strategic preparations for a solo emergency landing. I didn't need you worrying about me at all!"

As the two bickered, the virtual bead curtain at the bar entrance was pulled aside.

Tights looked up sharply, her eyes lighting up as she immediately stood and waved. "Bulma! Over here!"

Bulma spotted her sister at once and hurried over, pulling Son Goku along with her. The sisters met and immediately threw their arms around each other in a huge hug.

"You little brat, you really ran off? When the old man told me, I thought he'd had too much to drink."

Tights pinched her sister's cheek before turning a somewhat critical gaze toward Son Goku beside her.

He was fairly tall, with a lean build and pleasing looks. The black martial arts uniform he wore bore no visible brand, but its material was exceptionally fine.

But beyond that, Tights could not sense any of the sharp, imposing aura that belonged to a powerful figure of the universe. He stood there with steady breathing, relaxed muscles, and the eyes of a friendly boy next door who had just graduated and wandered into a bar by mistake.

Could this really be the monster Dad said had blown up a test machine with one punch?

"You're Son Goku? You do look pretty good!" Tights crossed her arms and circled halfway around him, her tone carrying a hint of scrutiny. "You had the nerve to lure my pampered little sister out into space? You've got some guts. The old man actually didn't put out a warrant for your arrest?"

Faced with this obvious attempt to intimidate him, Son Goku was not fazed in the slightest.

He smoothly pulled out a chair and, like a perfect gentleman, let Bulma sit first. Then he drew out another chair for himself and sat across from Tights, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Luring her away would be putting it too strongly. I was heading to Planet Yardrat, so I brought her along to have a look around. Think of it as a vacation." Son Goku spread his hands, his tone casual. "As for the doctor... we got along quite well. Before I left, he stuffed a whole bunch of newly developed capsules into my hands as gifts."

The answer was airtight. It explained his purpose while implying that his future father-in-law had long since approved.

Tights raised an eyebrow, just about to press him further and probe for more details.

Then Jaco abruptly sprang to his feet. He planted one foot on his chair, put one hand on his hip, and swept the other through the air in an exaggerated flourish before pointing straight at Son Goku.

"Hey, you Earthling over there, stand up straight and listen carefully! I am a Galactic Patrolman who upholds justice throughout the universe, a super elite—"

Before Jaco could finish, his voice cut off sharply. He suddenly dropped the theatrical pose and leaned forward, his huge yellow eyes locked onto Son Goku's face.

"Wait... black spiky hair, those wild facial features..." As though he had discovered something terrifying, Jaco jumped back as if shocked by electricity. In an instant, he drew the laser gun at his waist and aimed it at Son Goku as though facing a deadly enemy. "Y-you're a Saiyan?!"

"A Saiyan? Aren't they part of the Frieza Force..." Tights froze as well. Having traveled the universe for inspiration year-round, she had naturally heard of that infamous warrior race.

"But that's not right..." Jaco kept his gun raised, his large eyes filled with confusion as he swept his gaze over Son Goku from head to toe. "Aren't Saiyans all murder-crazed lunatics? Then why don't you have even a trace of dangerous energy? You're as calm as an ordinary person... And where's your tail?"

Faced with Jaco's barrage of questions, Son Goku simply smiled faintly and brushed it off. "I can't really explain the details myself. I grew up on Earth, and as for my tail, it was cut off a long time ago."

"A Saiyan raised on Earth?" Jaco was half-convinced, but he did not lower his gun, stubbornly maintaining his posture. "Hmph! Even so, Saiyans are dangerous individuals! Since this elite has run into you, I must subject you to strict—"

Looking at the classic sight of the noseless, big-headed alien with giant yellow eyes before him, Son Goku felt a strange ripple stir in his heart.

This really was the Dragon Ball world that spanned the universe. Rather than getting angry, he casually picked up the menu from the table. With a slight movement of his wrist, he passed it straight beyond Jaco's gun and handed it to him.

"Officer Jaco, you've worked hard. Meeting is fate, so why not take a look and see what you'd like to eat? It's on me today."

The motion flowed as smoothly as water, and his tone was mild, like an enthusiastic owner of a roadside diner.

Yet the moment the formerly arrogant Jaco saw the menu being handed over, his pupils suddenly shrank to pinpoints!

As an experienced Galactic Patrolman, Jaco might have been a complete weakling in combat, but his dynamic vision was superb, capable of tracking objects moving at extreme speeds.

But from his perspective... the hand Son Goku used to pass the menu seemed to have vanished!

There had been no preliminary muscle movement in the hand's trajectory, no sign of accelerated blood flow, not even the faintest breeze from cutting through the air!

Jaco's scalp went numb, and his battle instincts sounded alarms frantically. He knew that if this tailless Saiyan in front of him wished it, that menu could slit his throat in the blink of an eye—and he would not even have time to react and pull the trigger!

Gulp!

Jaco swallowed, and the leg he had planted on the chair began trembling uncontrollably.

"Y-you..." Jaco stammered for a long while, cold sweat beading across his smooth bald forehead. The hand holding the gun slowly drew back as he silently returned it to its holster, then vigorously wiped his sweaty palm against his pant leg.

Then the super elite properly extended both hands to accept the menu. Like an obedient schoolchild, he put his legs together and meekly sat back down in his chair.

"Th-thank you... I suddenly don't feel hungry. Just give me a glass of plain water." Jaco's voice was weak as he stared at the menu, not daring to look up at all.

Seeing Jaco acting so cowardly, Tights inexplicably kicked him under the table. "What's wrong with you? Where did all that nerve you had when you pointed a gun at him go? Why are you stuttering?"

Jaco shuddered in pain, roaring inwardly:

How is this a gentle ordinary person?! A monster like this would probably make even a Galactic Patrol inspector break out in a cold sweat! What kind of person did Tights's sister get herself involved with?! I actually pointed a gun at him just now—King Kai must really be watching over me for my head to still be on my neck!

Son Goku took in every flicker of Jaco's expression. He chuckled without exposing him, then turned to look at Tights.

"If you still have any concerns, sis, just say so." He leaned back, his tone easygoing. "With me here, no one in this universe will be able to touch a hair on her head."

The casual yet unquestionable confidence in his words made Tights pause, and the way he called her "sis" rolled off his tongue with remarkable ease.

Bulma sat beside him, watching Son Goku effortlessly cow everyone present, and her heart felt as sweet as honey. Under the table, she secretly pinched his calf, blaming him for his slick tongue, though her face was full of pride.

Having traveled the galaxy for so many years, Tights was exceptionally good at reading people. She glanced at Jaco, who was sitting quietly beside them like a quail, then looked at Son Goku's calm, unruffled expression. She vaguely guessed that this bargain brother-in-law was definitely not as simple as he appeared.

"Alright, alright. Just look at the way that brat is staring at you—her soul's practically been stolen by you. You've passed my test."

Tights was the sort who knew when to let things go. Since even Jaco had chickened out, she stopped making things difficult for him. With a hearty snap of her fingers, she called over the bartender. "But let's get one thing straight first—this meal's on you! This writer's practically too broke to eat these days."

"No problem." Son Goku smiled.

"Eat as much as you want!"