Yamcha

The blazing sun scorched the vast sea of sand. The air warped in the heat, and the distant horizon looked like a mirage.

The RV struggled between the dunes, its tires crushing through the loose yellow sand with dull rumbles. The air conditioning had given out long ago, and the hot air blowing from the vents made the vehicle feel like a giant oven.

"It's hot as hell! There isn't even a patch of shade in this damn place. I'm going to be roasted into jerky!"

Dressed in cool shorts and a camisole, Bulma lay sprawled on the leather sofa, drenched in fragrant sweat, her blue hair clinging to her pale neck. Irritably, she grabbed a magazine and fanned herself furiously, kicking the side of the cabin in the process.

In the driver's seat, Oolong gripped the steering wheel with sweat pouring down his face, muttering, "This awful weather... pigs can't take it either..."

In the back, Son Goku lay sprawled on his back. He appeared to be resting with his eyes closed, but in truth, his ki had already silently spread out, taking in every movement within several miles.

Meanwhile.

Atop a towering sand dune several kilometers away.

"Young Master Yamcha! That RV is incredibly luxurious. They're definitely a prime, fat target!"

A little blue cat hovered in midair with binoculars raised, its voice trembling with excitement.

At the foot of the slope, a long-haired young man carrying a demon-headed broadsword over his shoulder slowly raised his head. His harsh features carried an undisguised savagery.

The desert bandit—Yamcha. He licked his cracked lips and stared fixedly at the RV in the distance.

"Driving such a fancy vehicle around this godforsaken place... they must have a death wish." Greed flashed through his eyes.

"Follow them. We move after dark."

"Yes, Young Master Yamcha!"

Night fell, and the RV parked beneath a wind-sheltered rock wall. Dim yellow light glowed inside.

"Phew. It's finally cooler!" Bulma let out a long breath and collapsed into the sofa.

"I've been sweating all day. It feels awful."

She grabbed a change of clothes and headed straight for the bathroom. At the door, she did not forget to turn around and warn him.

"Son Goku! No peeking!"

Without even opening his eyes, Son Goku replied lazily, "Don't worry. I never peek. Usually, I just look openly!"

"Are you asking for a beating? When did you learn to talk like that?"

Bulma fumed and was just about to open the door.

"Wait, Bulma!"

Son Goku suddenly opened his eyes.

In his senses, two ki signatures were rapidly approaching from a hundred meters away. One of them carried undisguised greed.

They were finally here!

A trace of mockery flashed through Son Goku's eyes. He rose to his feet and grabbed Bulma.

"What is it?" Bulma turned back in confusion.

"The AC got fried by the heat today, so the water pipes probably have some problems too." Son Goku spouted nonsense with a perfectly serious face, then casually grabbed Oolong, who was eating watermelon nearby.

"Let Oolong wash first and test the water temperature."

"Huh? I don't need to wash, I—" Oolong was about to protest when he met a pair of cold, unquestionable eyes.

Son Goku lowered his voice and enunciated each word. "Ten seconds. Turn into the sexiest woman with the most incredible figure you've ever seen, then go take a shower. An important guest is coming soon, and when he gets here, you'll do this..."

"If you mess it up, we're having roast suckling pig tomorrow."

Oolong sucked in a sharp breath, every strand of pig bristle standing on end.

"Goku, don't worry! I guarantee I'll complete the mission!"

Under such tyranny, how could Oolong dare say no? With a muffled bang, a tall blonde with wavy hair and a leopard-print bikini appeared out of thin air.

"Handsome, I'm going to take a little bath now!" the blonde cooed, throwing him a seductive wink before swaying her hips into the bathroom.

Bulma stared in stunned silence. Son Goku pulled her along as they silently retreated into the darkness of the cabin.

"Let's watch the show!"

Outside, the wind howled.

Yamcha and Puar crept up beside the RV like ghosts.

Click!

With a practiced touch, he silently picked the lock and slipped into the cabin like a night cat.

The interior was dark, with only a faint glow spilling through the crack beneath the bathroom door. Amid the sound of running water, the silhouette of a graceful figure could vaguely be seen.

"Could there be a woman taking a shower?!"

Yamcha swallowed hard. He suffered from an extreme fear of women, yet desperately wanted to overcome this fatal flaw.

"I'll just sneak a peek—call it desensitization therapy! As long as I'm not caught, maybe my illness will get better!"

Having found himself an excuse, his breathing grew heavy as he tiptoed to the door. With trembling hands, he gently pushed open the bathroom door.

Whoosh!

What greeted him was not a shy beauty, but a voluptuous blonde who had been lying in wait!

"Darling! You finally came! I've been waiting so long!"

Oolong let out a coy cry so sickening it raised goosebumps, then spread his arms and pounced like a starving tiger, giving Yamcha a solid bear hug.

In an instant, supreme softness brutally washed over Yamcha's face, causing his brain to crash on the spot.

"W-Woman?!"

"A naked woman?! She's pressed against me?!"

The terror and suffocating sensation shooting straight to his skull caught him completely off guard and shattered his mental defenses.

"AAAAAAAHHHH—!!!"

A miserable scream tore through the night. Yamcha staggered back like he had been electrocuted, tripped over the threshold, and tumbled out of the RV, crashing heavily onto the sand.

"Bleurgh!"

The notorious desert bandit rolled his eyes back, foamed at the mouth, and convulsed wildly on the ground.

"Young Master?! What's wrong, Young Master?!" Puar spun frantically in midair.

"Pfft!" Bulma, hiding in the shadows, could no longer hold it in. She finally understood why Son Goku had made Oolong go in first.

"Come on, let's go meet him!" Son Goku pushed open the door and led Bulma out of the RV.

A gust of night wind finally brought Yamcha around. He had only just climbed to his feet when he ran into the two of them. When his gaze landed on Bulma's pure yet radiant face, he froze. Instinctively, he smoothed out his messy long hair, trying to strike a roguish pose.

"Hey, beautiful... I'm Yamcha!"

He flicked back his hair, eagerly awaiting the girl's infatuated squeal.

Yet Bulma merely glanced at him calmly. Not only did she not blush, her brows instead furrowed into a knot.

"You look decent enough, but what a lunatic. Sneaking a look at a pig taking a bath in the middle of the night, then getting so scared you foam at the mouth—how disgusting!"

Hearing that cutting assessment, Son Goku nearly burst out laughing.

Well done!

In the original story, Bulma had been an absolute sucker for handsome faces, falling for Yamcha at first sight. But now, she had no interest in this bandit whatsoever. That fated romance had been uprooted effortlessly before it could even begin.

"What did you just say, you little brat?!"

The humiliation instantly turned to rage, and Yamcha completely snapped.

"I'll tear you two to pieces!"

"Wolf Fang Fist—!"

With a furious roar, his clawed hands whipped up sharp gusts of wind as they came raining down on the two of them.

"Goku, watch out!" Bulma cried.

Facing the special move, Son Goku stood perfectly still with one hand in his pocket.

"Your footing is too unsteady, your breathing is a mess, and you're full of openings!"

The moment the countless claws reached his face, he moved. With a slight shift of his feet, he strolled leisurely through the dense barrage of claw shadows.

Swish, swish, swish!

The assault was fierce, yet every strike missed by a hair. Yamcha's attacks could not even touch the corner of Son Goku's clothes.

"How is this possible?! Are you some kind of loach, kid?!" The more Yamcha fought, the more alarmed he became, cold sweat pouring down his face.

"You're using too much force and have completely lost your center of gravity. At a time like this, if someone attacked your lower body..."

Those instructive words sounded by his ear. The next moment, Son Goku casually flicked his toe.

"Ow!"

Yamcha lost his balance and fell flat on his face with a thud, biting down on a mouthful of yellow sand. Humiliated and enraged, he was just about to scramble up and grab the huge demon-head broadsword lying in the distance.

Whoosh!

Son Goku flicked a finger, striking the blade. The heavy broadsword was sent flying dozens of meters away, half its blade buried firmly in a distant sand dune.

Silence fell all around. Yamcha lay sprawled on the ground, his entire body rigid.

He had finally realized that this little kid, who was not even as tall as his chest, was no helpless lamb to be slaughtered—but a monster wearing human skin.

His opponent had toyed with him like a monkey without even attacking. If he had truly meant to kill him, Yamcha would already be a corpse.

"Still want to rob us?" Son Goku looked down at him, his tone calm.

"N-No! I don't dare! Puar, retreat!"

Yamcha had lost every last bit of his swagger. He did not even dare take his sword, fleeing into the night with Puar in a frantic scramble.

Watching the two flee in disgrace, Goku dusted the sand off his clothes. He had won without spilling a drop of blood, handled it with ease, protected his future wife's reputation, and casually crushed his rival's dignity in the process.

Perfect!

"The plumbing's been tested, and the wolves have been chased off. Bulma, you can take a nice, relaxing bath now."

Son Goku turned to Bulma with an exceptionally innocent smile.

Looking at the boy before her, who made her feel overwhelmingly safe, Bulma's cheeks reddened slightly. She gave a quiet "Mm."

Son Goku withdrew his gaze and looked toward the edge of the desert. There, a massive mountain wreathed in flames radiated terrifying heat through the night.

"Fire Mountain, Ox-King... and an arranged marriage."