Dragon Ball Z: Paradise Found

A Future Doomed

"Hmm..." Bulma stared at her computer screen, nervously spinning around in her chair as the Capsule Corps information system failed to come up with any projects similar to what she had brought and scanned inside of a capsule. Even most of the individual microchips didn't seem to have a record of it in the system. This was although some of these systems had the Capsule Corps logo on them. "This is a full-blown mystery then..."

"Maybe those chips are fake? Maybe this whole rocket ship's just faking it? Capsule Corps has a massive name and reputation in the market, doesn't it? Maybe whoever made this stuff just really wanted people to think it's the real deal?" Yamcha wondered, scratching his head.

"No... It doesn't make any sense..." Bulma sighed in frustration. That she was getting nowhere with this no matter what she tried began taking the better of her. The genius needed some new endeavor to occupy her mind, or else she'll begin dulling out and losing her potency in a moment. "In that case, why only produce one prototype? Why not sell it on the market but use it yourself? Some of these microchips and parts look salvaged. They aren't even Capsule Corps at all, though they look like a professional has mended them. Possibly one working here. We'd have long since employed someone with crazy skills like this. This may just go beyond what I'm capable of. Someone this good has no right merely imitating us."

Yamcha and Krillin turned behind at once. Bulma didn't notice it at once, but the quivering that the two did became infectious and the stench of their sweat filled the already stuffy laboratory room.

"What's up with you two?" Bulma wondered.

"That Ki...!" Yamcha muttered.

"Y-Yeah... It's insane. They both are!" Krillin nodded in agreement. Both fighters gulped something heavy down. Neither of them looked like they could believe they just faced one of these Ki signatures in battle. "That guy... He's even crazier than Frieza was and... Chayote's Ki is busting down walls to get there too."

"So, she's gone berserk..." Bulma covered her face with a shaky hand and reached for her drawer. "Come on, we have to hurry. If we don't defuse the situation, Chayote's going to blow up the entire planet herself."

"You're planning on going there?" Yamcha turned to Bulma, looking at the inventor like she had completely lost her mind. "Both of them will rip anything that gets in their way to shreds. Even getting close to that place is dangerous. Their battle will envelop the whole planet soon enough."

"That's exactly why we need to stop it. I have a nasty feeling that neither of them is the enemy we need to be focusing on." Bulma pointed out, wagging a capsule case in front of Yamcha.

Yamcha's eyes darted around the room. They fixed on Krillin, who still clutched at his ribs and pressed against the chair that Bulma provided him with. Then to Bulma again, who stood straight and stared right up at him with her hands on her hips, gazing at him with that look filled both with wild expectations and a certain shade of disapproval that he didn't justify them immediately.

"You want me to get you there, don't you?" Yamcha deflated.

"Of course, if I travel by hovercar or jet–I'll crash. If I'm dead, that won't be useful to anyone." Bulma leaned in on Yamcha, applying pressure on the poor dolt.

"Fine, but if that guy with Capsule Corps jacket picks a fight with us, I'll Solar Fist him, and we'll get as far away from him as possible. Leave it to Chayote to rip him apart and work from there. Chayote may be the worse threat in the long run, but she's a threat we know of and can defuse." Yamcha turned his head, almost as if he struggled to believe what he himself was saying out loud. The two rushed out of the room.

"Oh, my..." a woman of a petite body build, thin eyes, and curly, blond hair gasped when the two rushed right past her. She held a young boy just a few years old in her hands, a child that seemed fully capable to walk by himself though enjoyed piggyback rides too much to engage in that laborious activity. Her other hand held a tray with cookies and milk. "They ran off?" she wondered, entering the room.