Bringer of Death

Cell Saga - Part 12: Artificial Immortality

Cell Saga - Part 12: Artificial Immortality

Planet Earth, several hours before the defeat of Lord Slug... 

"Statement: Is that the best you can do, filthy meatbag? Now I see why the blue-haired woman had such an easy choice. It's not merely that you don't measure up to the master, but rather you are by far THE weakest member of this little Earthling entourage!" 

Yamcha was panting heavily, still on the run from his assailant. Behind him, arcs of white electricity snaked out, scorching the pristine white courtyard of the Lookout. 

"Recommendation: Running will not do you any good. Allow me to demonstrate why." 

C47 was extremely excited to test out his new speed. While he had always been mentally capable-his sophisticated processors had allowed him to watch each blow of the entire fight against Cooler-not until today had he possessed the physical ability to keep up. The clank of his feet was heavy against the white tiles of the lookout, but he somewhat enjoyed the noise it produced. As an assassin droid, his footsteps had inspired absolute fear in his targets, causing them to hide and tremble at his approach. He preferred not to change that. 

The droid took off running, calculating the most effective approach vector. As he approached, using his own super speed, Yamcha spotted him and turned around. 

"Bring it on, you cocky piece of junk," Yamcha yelled. He tightened his fists, filling them with ki. 

"Reply: That's the spirit, meatbag!" 

"Stupid robot!" the fighter yelled. "You fell for it! Kamehameha!" 

Yamcha grinned triumphantly at the release of his beam attack, continuing to yell insults at the droid. His attack rammed into C47 head on, but there was no explosion. 

"Correction: No, I believe it was you who fell for it." 

C47's hands, fitted with android absorption devices, sucked every bit of the attack inside him. The droid's body glowed with blue light for a moment before redistributing the power throughout his body and returning his color to normal. 

"Observation: Why, the tingling sensation of adding your own ki to my own feels quite pleasant indeed. It wasn't much, but then again I wouldn't want to overload my new draining ability on the first try. Thanks for only using your minimum strength." 

"Bu...but," Yamcha grumbled, knowing he had put nearly two thirds of his energy into that attack. "That does it, droid. You wanted to test out your new abilities, well try this on!" 

The Z fighter had been watching C47, analyzing his fighting style whenever he had a chance. He really didn't trust the droid from the beginning. This was before the upgrades, of course, but the glaring deficiency he found was with melee combat. He'd only ever seen the robot use surprises and projectile attacks, keeping his foes at a distance. 

Yamcha rushed the droid, sliding at the last second with a sweeping kick. But rather than toppling his opponent, his own leg merely bruised against the sturdy metal body of C47. The human hadn't expected that, not in the least. 

"What the heck are you made of?" 

But before the android could answer, Yamcha tried a direct blow to its face. The result, while equally pointless, yielded even more frustration. 

"YOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!" he screamed in pain, shaking his hand and clutching it. It was pulsing red now, Yamcha fighting the urge to blow on it like a child. 

"Observation: Your tactics so far are proving most ineffective. 

"Suggestion: Perhaps you should quit goofing off and use your maximum strength."