"What kind of world is this? Are monsters like that everywhere?"
"I feel like we've stepped into something even more dangerous."
"You're not wrong…"
"But I think it's kind of exciting!" one of them chirped.
During their trek, Son Goku gave the girls a brief primer on the Dragon Ball world, casually swatting away any foolish creatures that wandered too close. The hours passed, and fatigue began to set in. Soon, Alice, Shizuka, and Saya were taking turns being carried by Goku, who—to no one's surprise—used the opportunity to his advantage.
Finally, as the sun began its descent, the silhouette of a small village appeared on the horizon. The weary group perked up immediately, their tired legs finding new energy as they hurried toward the promise of shelter and rest.
---
After a much-needed night's sleep, the girls wasted no time the next morning. They dragged a slightly reluctant Son Goku to the nearest city. A full day was spent acclimating—shopping for new clothes, observing the strange yet familiar technology, and trying to grasp the sheer scale and oddity of this new world. By evening, they boarded a plane bound for West City.
(The plane's origin? Hijacked, of course. Son Goku was perpetually penniless. The pilot's seat was occupied by Rika Minami, whose police training had included flight basics.)
---
In the grand reception hall of Capsule Corporation, Bulma stared, utterly flabbergasted, at the group of women arranged on her plush sofas. Her gaze finally settled on Son Goku, one eyebrow arched dangerously high.
"Care to explain? You disappear for two days and come back with… an entourage? To my house?" Her eyes flickered over the girls, noting, with a twinge of irrational irritation, that each seemed to be exceptionally… well-endowed. A petty jealousy stirred within her.
"It's a bit of a story," Son Goku began, and proceeded to give Bulma the abbreviated version of his interdimensional side-trip.
The concept of another world only raised a mildly surprised eyebrow from the genius inventor. But the revelation that all these women were, for all intents and purposes, his? That left her truly speechless. (Kiriko might have been the exception, but Bulma's sharp eyes doubted that would last long.)
"This… this is the same clueless kid who didn't know what a girl was?" Bulma sighed, massaging her temples. "I guess all men grow up to be the same. So, let me get this straight. You want them to stay here?"
Son Goku nodded with shameless ease. "Yeah. You know I don't exactly have a place of my own."
"I suppose that's true. But what do I get out of it?" Bulma took a deliberate sip of her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass.
"Oh, come on, don't be like that. Isn't your home my home?" Son Goku replied, throwing her a playful wink.
Bulma's cheeks flushed instantly. For all her bravado and boy-craziness, she was still, at her core, inexperienced. The old Goku had been too innocent to even consider in that light, but this new, confident version was a different story.
It's working, Goku thought, inwardly pleased. But business came first. He turned to the group. "Alright, Saeko, everyone. You'll stay here with Bulma for now. Make yourselves at home. Seriously, don't be shy—her family owns half the planet."
And so, the survivors from a dead world found temporary sanctuary in the world's most advanced home, while Son Goku resumed his solitary quest for the Dragon Balls.
---
A few hours of high-speed flight later, Son Goku had collected five more orbs. Combined with the one in his possession, he now had six. The radar led him to the last—a barren, windswept wasteland of sand and stone.
He landed on a large boulder, radar in hand, scanning the desolation. Finally, the signal led him to a shallow stone crevice. He reached in and pulled out the final sphere.
"Hah! The Five-Star Ball." A grin spread across his face. "All seven, finally together."
He carefully arranged the Dragon Balls on the sand, the orange spheres gleaming in the sun. He was about to call forth the eternal dragon when a distant BOOM shattered the silence.
He looked up, his senses expanding. A familiar, malignant energy signature brushed against his awareness.
This ki… Tambourine? No… It's Piccolo's! Surprise flickered across his features. To run into him out here… What are the odds?
Quickly gathering the Dragon Balls back into his pack, he secured it at his waist and took to the air, flying toward the source of the disturbance.
---
Hyah~!
BANG—KABOOM—CRACK!
Below, Piccolo was a whirlwind of destruction. He pummeled a mountain range with furious punches and kicks, each impact reducing solid rock to powder and rubble. Boulders the size of houses shattered under his assault. With a roar, he soared into the sky and unleashed a volley of energy blasts downward, systematically leveling what remained of the peaks.
Huff… Huff… He hovered, panting heavily from the exertion of his training.
Suddenly, his head snapped upward. His eyes narrowed, and a palpable wave of murderous intent radiated from him. "This ki… It can't be…"
Son Goku descended calmly, landing lightly on the devastated ground a short distance away. A faint, unreadable smile played on his lips. "So… should I call you Tambourine, or the Great Demon King Piccolo?"
"Son. Goku." Piccolo's voice was a low growl. "I didn't have to hunt you down. You delivered yourself." His killing intent solidified into a physical pressure. "Once I crush you, this world is mine!"
Son Goku looked at him with open disdain. "With a power level barely scratching a few hundred? What exactly do you think you can do to me?"
"Is that so?!" Piccolo roared. "Then witness the power I've honed for two years!" He stomped down, cracking the bedrock, and launched himself forward, fist aimed to obliterate Goku's face.
The attack, for all its fury, was effortlessly halted. Son Goku didn't even move his feet; he simply raised a single finger, and Piccolo's devastating punch met an immovable object.
"Im… possible…" Piccolo's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, his pupils contracting to pinpricks.
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT! DIE—URK!!"
His second roar was cut short as Son Goku's fist—moving faster than sight—buried itself in his abdomen. The air blasted from Piccolo's lungs in a pained gasp. All strength left his body, and he crumpled to his knees, clutching his stomach, utterly defeated by a single, casual blow.