The corner of the Interstellar Wreckage Bar was dimly lit, and a soundproofing field filtered the noisy alien languages into white noise.
A tableful of strangely shaped alien delicacies filled the air with their aroma. Jaco, who had been sweating with fear after Son Goku scared him earlier, was now wolfing down a tentacle as big as a giant squid, completely without dignity. His face was smeared with blue sauce, and he had long since forgotten his fear. He mumbled through his food that this place was a damn rip-off.
Son Goku held a glass of potent interstellar fruit wine, his gaze shifting between Tights and Jaco. His tone was casually teasing.
"You've spent years traveling through space for inspiration, Sis, and this is the only person you've got with you? Well... a super elite, no less. You two are always together. Don't you have any special feelings for each other in private?"
Tights, who had been drinking, choked and began coughing.
"Cough, cough... Goku, what kind of weird train of thought is that?" Tights fumbled for a tissue to wipe her mouth, looking disgusted as she pointed at Jaco, who was still devouring squid tentacles.
"Me? With him? Don't make me laugh! He's a walking comedian. Aside from using his Patrol credentials to save me a bit on docking fees or giving me material for a bad sci-fi novel, he's useless. If there's real danger, he runs faster than a rabbit! My standards would have to be pretty awful for me to date a chūnibyō alien with nothing but galactic justice on the brain!"
"Hey! Tights! What do you mean, I run fast? It's a strategic retreat when facing a powerful enemy!" Jaco dropped his tentacle, wiped his face carelessly, and protested righteously. "Besides, this super elite has the noble duty of protecting peace in the Milky Way. I'm a proud bachelor! Romance would only slow down my draw!"
Watching the two of them skillfully dig up each other's dirt, Bulma laughed so hard she doubled over. Son Goku could see that they really were just a pair of bickering friends.
After dinner, Tights acted as their guide and took the two of them for a stroll around the space station.
"Wanderer Space Station may be chaotic, but there are some interesting places." Tights pointed to the enormous glass dome overhead. "Like the Floating Garden over there. The plants are unique specimens rescued from destroyed planets. But first we have to cross this Industrial Corridor and check out the spaceship parts in Section A."
The group ambled along, stopping from time to time. As soon as they entered the Industrial Corridor, the atmosphere changed. Neon lights flickered, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of heavy oil and rusting metal.
"Hey, you folks taking a stroll to walk off dinner?"
A sarcastic voice suddenly came from the shadows of some discarded cargo containers.
At the head of the group was the Four-Armed Mercenary, the same man Son Goku had glared into retreat on the landing pad. But this time he wasn't alone. More than a dozen armed accomplices surrounded them, their dark, high-energy pulse rifles blocking off both ends of the corridor.
"There weren't many of us earlier, so I got caught off guard." The Four-Armed Mercenary spat and sneered as he aimed his rifle at Tights. "Now hand over the key to that Water Drop Ship, and leave everything valuable you've got. As for those two Earth girls... we could take them back and let the boys have some fun."
"Robbery? You've got the nerve to rob a super elite!"
At the sight of them, Jaco's big yellow eyes lit up. He thought his chance to reclaim his glorious image had finally arrived!
He sprang onto an old oil drum, spread his legs, planted one hand on his hip, and struck what he considered a dashing pose. Pulling out his laser gun, he shouted, "Listen up! I am Jaco of the Galactic Patrol! You scum of the cosmos, drop your weapons at once, or else—"
Bang!
The Four-Armed Mercenary didn't play fair. He strode forward and swung the heavy metal butt of his rifle into Jaco.
The poor super elite didn't even get a chance to scream. Like a baseball hit out of the park, he flew more than ten meters before crashing into a metal wall with a clang. He slid down to the floor and passed out, eyes rolling back.
"Jaco!" Tights turned pale with fright and instinctively stepped behind Bulma.
"Heh. What a joke. Some Patrol officer, just a clown." The Four-Armed Mercenary contemptuously lowered his rifle butt and eyed Bulma greedily. "Now it's your turn, girls..."
He didn't get to finish. His pupils suddenly contracted.
The black-haired young man had suddenly blurred out of sight.
"Some people just love ruining the fun."
A cold voice sounded out of nowhere behind the Four-Armed Mercenary.
Before he could react, before any of the mercenaries present could even see what happened, a series of bone-rattling thuds erupted in the narrow corridor.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
It was as if a hurricane were tearing through the crowd. The dozen mercenaries wielding heavy weapons were sent flying, as though they'd been hit head-on by a speeding train.
Some were slammed into load-bearing walls, leaving body-shaped dents. Others crashed through ventilation ducts and got pinned in place by steel beams.
The leader, the Four-Armed Mercenary, fared the worst. Son Goku simply grabbed his arms and bent them down. With a sharp crack as the bones were forced out of place, both arms hung limp at his sides. He hit the floor like a lump of mud, his vision darkening with pain. He couldn't even muster the strength to scream.
From the moment Son Goku vanished to the moment all the mercenaries were down, it had taken no more than the blink of an eye.
When Bulma and Tights came back to their senses, Son Goku was standing among the scattered mercenaries. With one hand in his pocket, he casually dusted off his sleeve, as if he'd merely kicked aside a few stones blocking the way.
The corridor was frighteningly quiet, save for the crackle of electrical sparks.
Tights's mouth hung wide open. She looked at the mercenaries embedded in the walls, her mind completely blank.
"When did Earth get someone this powerful? No wonder Jaco was such a coward back at the bar!" Tights swallowed, her voice wavering.
Bulma proudly linked her arm through Son Goku's and lifted her chin. "Well, Sis? Isn't my taste in men way better than your unreliable novel material?"
"Better? He's practically a human nuclear bomb..." Tights slapped a hand to her forehead, looking at Son Goku differently now.
It was the feverish excitement of a sci-fi writer who'd just found a rare source of inspiration.
"Hey, Goku! Are there any others as strong as you on Earth? Could you introduce me to one? If I based a new book on a real person, it would sell across the universe!"
Son Goku watched Tights's eyes shine and felt an idea take shape.
In the original story, Bulma had ended up with Vegeta. Now Bulma was his wife, which meant Vegeta, so far away, was about to become a bachelor. And Trunks wouldn't exist, either. His sister-in-law seemed like a pretty good way to make it up to him.
"Probably not on Earth, because I'm not exactly an Earthling myself."
Son Goku tapped his chin, looking at Tights with a faint smile. "But if you're really interested, I do know someone."
"Who? Is he handsome? Is he as strong as you?" Tights's eyes shone like spotlights as she fired off one question after another.
"Someone with an absurdly high opinion of himself."
A familiar figure came to mind, and a hint of amusement flashed in Son Goku's eyes. "He's a prince of our people. He's not very tall, and his hairline's a little worrisome... but he's got a stubborn streak that won't bend, no matter what. His battle power probably doesn't rank very high in the universe right now, but his potential is absolutely top-tier."
Son Goku paused, his tone teasing. "So, Sis, are you interested in a prince from a fallen royal family? If we get the chance, I don't mind introducing you."
Tights stroked her chin, already imagining the plot of a love story about a tsundere prince and a female writer. Her excitement grew by the second.
"That sounds like a great dynamic! And he's a prince, too? All right, I'll remember that. Don't you dare stand me up. Even if we don't date, I could use him as a free bodyguard and the model for my novel's leading man!"
Bulma rolled her eyes. She had no idea who that prince was, but her instincts told her that if her loudmouthed sister and that alien prince ever met, the universe would never know peace again.
"Enough trying to sell me on your weird relatives." Bulma pointed to Jaco, who was unconscious beside the old oil drum. "Let's get Jaco back to his Patrol ship first. We still have to go to Planet Yardrat."
Son Goku chuckled, walked over, and grabbed Jaco by the scruff of the neck like a chicken. He dragged him toward the landing pad.
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