Chapter 52: The Death of Yamcha
After entering the desolate Gobi Desert where the sky was filled with yellow sand, Franklin constantly spread his spiritual sense to monitor the surroundings.
He had long since noticed Yamcha's presence. In order to take his place and enter the main Dragon Ball storyline, Franklin had remained silent until Yamcha made his move—when the car suddenly spun out of control and was flung into the air.
Franklin reacted instantly. Countless vines burst from the ground, intercepting the airborne car and absorbing the impact before gently lowering it back onto the sand.
Bulma, who was the weakest among them, was held tightly in Franklin's arms, completely protected. As for Goku and Oolong, Franklin didn't worry about them at all.
The vines tore open the car's roof, and Franklin leapt out while still holding Bulma.
"Franklin, what just happened? I think I saw a long sword stabbed into the hood of the car."
Seeing Bulma's frightened look, Franklin waved his hand, and under his control, a vine pulled the long sword out from the car's hood and handed it to him.
"You saw right—it's a sword. Looks like whoever's coming isn't friendly."
As he spoke, a sandstorm churned in the distance, and through the flying dust they could see a rough-looking young man riding a jet bike toward them.
Before Bulma could even get a clear look at his face, Yamcha suddenly turned his jet bike around and sped off in the opposite direction.
Franklin had no intention of letting his prey escape. "Goku, go! Catch him!"
As he spoke, Franklin casually threw the long sword in his hand. The sound of it cutting through the air echoed sharply, and in the blink of an eye it was right behind Yamcha. The latter twisted his bike sharply, barely dodging the flying blade.
At that same moment, Franklin's spiritual sense spread out over a radius of five hundred meters. As he formed hand seals, countless vines erupted from the ground beneath Yamcha, wrapping toward him. A wall of stone also rose from the earth, blocking his path forward.
Goku reacted even faster. He stabbed one end of his Power Pole into the ground, then launched himself forward as it extended rapidly—propelling him faster than he could normally move.
Yamcha tried to dodge between the vines, even attempting to ride up the wall to escape, but Goku was already upon him. The Power Pole came crashing down hard. Yamcha tried to block with his scabbard, but it snapped instantly. His hover bike exploded, and he was sent flying before vines coiled around him, binding him tightly.
Franklin stopped Goku just as he was about to strike again.
After putting the wrecked car back into capsule form, the two men and one pig walked up to the bound Yamcha. Seeing his handsome and slightly wild-looking face, sixteen-year-old Bulma's eyes lit up.
"What a handsome guy! Goku, you really didn't hold back—he's coughing blood! That kind of injury must've hit his organs, right?"
Her shallow, beauty-obsessed remark made Franklin frown. He didn't bother holding back and flicked her hard on the forehead.
"You almost got killed by that sword of his. Can't you think before you speak?"
Bulma rubbed her forehead, eyes watering. "But nothing happened, right? You already beat him up…"
Franklin felt a wave of irritation. Seeing his serious expression, Bulma quickly hid behind him.
"Sorry! I'll be quiet. You deal with him."
Franklin sighed helplessly. The vines beneath Yamcha shifted, forming a wooden cross that bound him tightly in place.
"I'll ask the questions, you give the answers. Got it?"
"If it weren't for my fear of women, and if you didn't have a girl with you, who wins or loses between us wouldn't be so sure!"
Franklin blinked, not quite sure what he just heard. Seeing Yamcha glare at him in anger, Franklin frowned deeper.
"What nonsense are you talking about? You ambushed us, now you're caught. You did wrong, so take responsibility. I'll ask again—you answer. Understand?"
"Let me go if you've got guts! When there's no woman by your side, we'll fight one-on-one!"
That nonsensical response finally made Franklin lose patience. He waved his hand, and countless vines turned into whips, lashing Yamcha's body. His screams echoed through the desert.
After a long while, the vines stopped. Yamcha hung on the cross, covered in blood.
"Now then—what's your name? What do you do? Why did you attack us? Give me a proper reason, and I'll heal your injuries and even apologize for being rough."
But Yamcha said nothing. Franklin sighed, spreading his hands helplessly. No need to look for excuses then.
Just as he was about to continue, the vines beneath them suddenly snapped apart. A giant beast with jagged teeth burst out of the ground and lunged at Franklin.
Franklin narrowed his eyes and appeared above its head in an instant, flicking his finger down sharply.
With a pitiful cry, the creature's body shrank rapidly until it became a small, blue, cat-like being under Franklin's foot.
"Puar?!"
Hearing Oolong's shout, Franklin paused and lifted his foot, tossing the little creature toward Oolong.
"If you know him, I'll spare him. As for this one who attacked us—since he likes playing dead, I'll help him do just that."
As he spoke, the ground split open into a dark pit. Bloodied and bound, Yamcha began to sink down along with the vines.
Puar, still dazed from Franklin's earlier strike, suddenly snapped awake and flew frantically in front of Yamcha.
"Don't hurt Master Yamcha! We—we have lots of treasure! If you promise not to hurt him, all of it can be yours!"
Seeing the little creature's loyalty, Franklin waved his hand to halt the vines' descent.
"Forget the treasure. You answer my questions. Lie once, and you both go down there."
Staring into the bottomless pit, Puar burst into tears, nodding desperately. Even Bulma looked a bit uneasy, and Franklin's stern expression nearly cracked.
"Ahem. The guy behind you—who is he? What does he do? Why did he attack us? You have ten seconds to answer. Ten… nine… eight…"
Puar went silent for a moment, but as the countdown neared its end, he broke down completely.
"He's Master Yamcha—his real name is Yamcha! He's a bandit who robs travelers in this desert! He attacked you because your car looked expensive—he thought you were rich… wuwuwu…"
"Hey, Bulma, you heard that? The handsome guy you were admiring turns out to be a highway robber. He's probably even killed people before. So—how should we deal with him?"
Seeing Franklin's faintly amused expression, Bulma blushed and turned her head away in embarrassment. "Do whatever you want. Why are you asking me?"
Franklin chuckled softly, and the vines began to descend again.
"Please! Don't kill Master Yamcha! I'll take you to where we've hidden our treasure!"
But Franklin had no interest in treasure. Compared to that, this strange little cat that could shapeshift was far more valuable.
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