Near Pilaf's base, Mai stood atop a massive plant, scanning through a detection scope.
Her radar locked onto the movement of Bulma and Son Goku—and more importantly, the direction of the Dragon Balls.
That's right. Pilaf's gang had somehow managed to build their own Dragon Radar.
Mai picked up her communicator.
"Lord Pilaf, I've detected a Dragon Ball signal at Sector 15. Cross-check confirms it's them—their vehicle appears to be some kind of golden cloud."
Pilaf's shrill voice answered at once.
"Excellent! That's them! Prepare for combat!"
"Yes, sir!"
Mai switched channels to contact Shu.
"Attention, attention! The Dragon Balls are moving at a steady speed. This is our one chance to intercept. Lock missiles on their trajectory and fire!"
Meanwhile, Goku and Bulma had passed through the Rabbit Gang's territory.
Under Bulma's direction, Goku wiped them out effortlessly—barely breaking a sweat.
The radar showed another Dragon Ball nearby, so they decided not to rest. If they hurried, they could finish before sunset.
The Flying Nimbus handled the steering on its own, so the pair lay back and drifted off to sleep under the warm afternoon sky.
Then—
BOOM!
A missile struck the Nimbus dead-on. The cloud exploded in a burst of golden vapor.
Bulma and Goku snapped awake just as they began to plummet through the air, wind screaming past them. The pouch of Dragon Balls at Bulma's waist burst open, scattering the orbs in every direction.
Bulma realized she wasn't dreaming and screamed,
"Goku! Help me!"
Goku rubbed his eyes groggily, his brain lagging a moment behind. But he understood enough—the Flying Nimbus had been hit, and they were falling fast.
He himself wouldn't die from a fall, but Bulma… that was another story.
Acting on instinct, he lunged toward her and wrapped his arms around her.
"Hang on tight, Bulma!"
With one hand, he drew out the Power Pole.
"Power Pole—extend!"
The staff shot outward like lightning.
Bulma's legs instinctively locked around Goku's waist, clinging to him for dear life as he swung the Power Pole down toward a gigantic mushroom-like tree below.
CRACK!
The pole split the massive stalk in half. The blow slowed their descent just enough. The plant tore open from crown to root, the shredded fibers cushioning their fall until they reached the ground.
When they finally landed, Bulma collapsed on the grass, trembling and gasping for breath.
"Huff… huff… oh my God, that was terrifying…"
She quickly checked herself over.
No accidents. No embarrassing damp spots.
Good—she was improving.
Goku stood, scanning the area. Then he spotted it—a plane speeding away in the distance.
"That's them!" he shouted, pointing. "They're the ones who blew up the Nimbus—and stole our Dragon Balls!"
Bulma's eyes went wide. She checked her pouch—empty.
"What?! After all that work collecting them—gone?!"
She looked up at the retreating plane, fury in her voice.
"Goku! Use the Power Pole! Knock that plane out of the sky!"
But then—she froze.
Because she saw the pilot.
It was Shu, but beside him, holding the stolen pouch with a triumphant grin—was Mai.
Bulma's mind short-circuited.
'Mai?!'
In her memories of the future, Mai wasn't just a petty villain. She was the leader of the resistance—one of humanity's last hopes during the war against Black Goku.
It was Mai who had saved Trunks time and again.
Mai—her son's future lover.
Her future daughter-in-law.
Now that she thought about it… Mai was already older than Goku at this point. No wonder it took her decades to mature into the calm, capable woman Bulma remembered.
In other words… in this timeline, her "daughter-in-law" had just blown her out of the sky.
Before Bulma could finish processing that irony, Goku shouted again.
"Power Pole—extend!"
Bulma's heart jumped. She quickly grabbed his arm.
"Wait, Goku! Stop!"
He blinked at her, confused.
"What? Why? If they get away, I won't be able to hit them!"
Bulma exhaled in relief—she'd stopped him just in time. One swing of that Power Pole and the plane would've been reduced to rubble—along with Mai.
"Goku," she said firmly, "you have to show mercy. They're weaklings, not real enemies. We still have the Four-Star Ball, and as long as we have the radar, we can find the rest again."
Goku scratched his head, thinking it over.
Honestly, he'd never planned on killing them anyway. The Pilaf trio were just clowns. Even if they did summon Shenron, their rule wouldn't last five minutes without real strength.
"Yeah, you're right," he said at last. "We've got the radar and Grandpa's Dragon Ball. We'll catch up soon enough."
Bulma crossed her arms, glancing at the empty sky where the plane had vanished.
"Still… what a pain. And my poor Flying Nimbus—it's gone."
But she wasn't as upset as she might have been.
In her past life, she remembered Goku's Nimbus being melted by Tambourine's slime—yet he later received another from Korin Tower. There were plenty up there, apparently.
As long as you were pure enough, you could ride one.
To her surprise, Goku said,
"Bulma, try calling for it again. It was only blasted apart—maybe it can come back."
Bulma blinked. "You think so?"
"Yeah! Give it a shot!"
Taking a deep breath, Bulma cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted,
"Flying Nimbus!"
A golden blur streaked across the horizon.
"Whoosh!"
The Nimbus reformed before them, whole and shimmering.
Bulma's eyes lit up.
"Hahaha! It worked! Goku, you were right—it's still alive! No more walking!"
She jumped onto the cloud with a laugh.
"Come on, Goku! Let's go after that plane!"
Goku grinned and leapt aboard.
"Right behind you!"