Whitley was currently in an office filled with the faint scent of hay and livestock. Sitting on the sofa opposite him was a portly, affable ranch owner.
He was helping Bulma discuss the acquisition with this plump ranch owner.
But it was less of a "discussion" and more of a one-sided, enthusiastic presentation and explanation by the fat owner. Whitley spent most of the time listening quietly, occasionally nodding.
"...So, Mr. Whitley, this contract basically contains these terms. It's mainly the transfer of all livestock, equipment, land ownership, and all employee contracts. As for the price, Capsule Corp has already settled it with us!"
The fat owner rubbed his hands, his face wearing the slick smile peculiar to a businessman.
The contract details were quickly confirmed.
The fat owner seemed to be in a very good mood and offered to accompany Whitley on a tour of the vast ranch.
The two strolled across the ranch's pastures, watching herds of cattle and sheep leisurely grazing. In the distance were continuous fences and modernized breeding sheds.
The fat owner gazed at this land he had managed for many years, a hint of reluctant sentimentality and nostalgia in his eyes. He began to ramble on about the glorious history of his family managing this ranch for several generations, how it grew from a small pasture to its current scale.
Whitley keenly caught the touch of sadness in his eyes and couldn't help but ask curiously, "Since you're so reluctant to part with this ranch and have such deep feelings for it, why did you decide to sell it?"
Hearing this, the smile on the fat owner's face faded, replaced by a soft sigh.
His tone also became a bit melancholic. "Sigh... well, there are two main reasons."
He held up two chubby fingers to Whitley. "The first is for my daughter."
A look of both helplessness and doting appeared on his face.
"She's grown up, has her own ideas and pursuits. She doesn't want to inherit the family business, feeling that dealing with cattle and sheep all day is boring. After graduating from university, she went off to the vicinity of East City by herself and became a teacher at a school called... oh right, Orange Star High School."
"Now she's busy with work and lives far from home, so it's rare for her to come back to West City even once a year. Her mother and I... we miss her a bit. So we thought we might as well sell the ranch, buy a house in East City to be closer to her, and see her more often."
Whitley nodded in understanding. That was a very heartwarming reason.
"And the second reason?"
At the mention of the second reason, the melancholy on the fat owner's face was instantly swept away.
He touched his nose a little embarrassedly, his eyes smiling into a thin line, and he subconsciously lowered his voice. "This second reason... is that Capsule Corp... they just offered too much! I really couldn't refuse this price! Hehe..."
Whitley nearly stumbled and fell to the ground.
He thought he was going to hear about some unavoidable hardship or an insurmountable business difficulty, but the result... was this?
Just a doting father who, because someone offered too much money, decided to go with the flow, sell his business, and reunite with his daughter?
This reason left him at a loss for whether to laugh or cry.
After touring the entire ranch, Whitley prepared to leave.
He smiled and bid farewell to the doting father and owner. "Since the contract is signed, there are still some procedures to handle, so I won't disturb you any longer."
"Ah, okay, okay! Take care, Mr. Whitley! Please send my regards to Mrs. Briefs!"
The fat owner enthusiastically saw him to the ranch gate.
Then, under the owner's gaze of utter shock, as if he had seen a ghost, Whitley casually lifted his feet off the ground and, with a swoosh, flew away, his figure quickly disappearing over the horizon.
...
Next, Whitley arrived at West City's City Hall to handle the relevant property rights transfer procedures.
However, the matter was far more tedious than he had imagined.
Faced with various forms, documents, certificates, and the formulaic inquiries and requests from officials at different windows, Whitley felt his head was about to split.
His immense power was completely useless in the face of these procedures.
Just as his patience was about to run out, an official smiled and handed him another thick stack of forms that needed to be filled out in detail.
Whitley looked at the pile of documents, which was almost half a foot high, and fell silent for three seconds.
Then, he decisively placed all the documents on the table and said to the still-smiling official, "This... farewell!"
Without waiting for the other party to react, he turned and walked away, his speed more than ten times faster than when he arrived.
"These troublesome procedures should be left to the almighty Bulma. Let her arrange for a professional to handle them!" Whitley muttered to himself.
...
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Earth.
Beep beep beep~ Beep beep beep~
Vegeta was holding the Dragon Radar, flying at extremely high speed across the sky.
On the radar screen, the light spots representing the Dragon Balls were constantly flashing and getting closer.
"This is it!"
Vegeta came to an abrupt halt, hovering high in the sky.
He looked down, and what met his eyes was a boundless expanse of azure sea.
The source of the Dragon Ball's signal was deep beneath this sea!
Without any hesitation, he took a deep breath and plunged headfirst into the cold seawater, rapidly descending towards the location indicated by the radar.
The light gradually dimmed, and the water pressure continuously increased, but none of this was a problem for Vegeta.
Guided by the radar, amidst a cluster of colorful coral reefs, he finally discovered an orange-yellow ball half-buried in the sand, with three red stars inside.
"Found it!"
Vegeta was ecstatic and quickly scooped up the ball.
With this, all seven Dragon Balls were finally gathered!
He couldn't wait to burst out of the sea and fly back into the sky.
Seawater dripped from his body, but he paid it no mind, staring excitedly at the Dragon Ball he had just found.
After the initial joy, Vegeta looked at the Dragon Ball and suddenly seemed lost in thought.
He remembered the scene not long ago when he, Nappa, and Raditz were being miserably hunted by the Frieza Force.
Although it was dangerous then, his heart was still full of pride. He even felt that the fact that the mighty Frieza couldn't kill him and that he had successfully escaped was proof of his strength.
However, all this confidence was utterly shattered after meeting Whitley!
That brief, despairingly one-sided exchange, Whitley's unfathomable power, made him truly feel what powerlessness was for the first time!
A mere high-class warrior! On what grounds?!
"Heh... hehehe... HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!"
Vegeta suddenly couldn't suppress his wild laughter. The sound echoed across the empty sea, filled with complex and indecipherable emotions.
He stared deadly at the Dragon Ball in his hand, as if he had found the answer.
"I see!!! So this is how you became strong! Whitley!"
Vegeta muttered to himself in the air, his expression constantly changing.
"A mere high-class warrior! No wonder I'm no match for you! So you relied on the power of this thing! That stupid woman said you knew a way to get stronger? She was referring to this, wasn't she?! HAHAHAHA!!! This is how you got so strong!!!"
He loudly vented his excitement and the thrill of having seen through the truth. It took a while before he gradually calmed down.
"Now then..."
Vegeta's eyes sharpened again.
"First, find a hidden place, and then make a wish immediately!"
He made up his mind, and his body instantly turned into a streak of light, skimming across the sea's surface at high speed, his gaze scanning the distance like a hawk, searching for a suitable deserted island.
...
Just as Vegeta's emotions erupted violently.
Kame House.
Master Roshi, who was leisurely reading the latest issue of a swimsuit magazine on a beach chair, suddenly fell off his chair with a thud.
Ignoring the magazine, he shot up, his gaze staring blankly in the general direction of Vegeta, his face filled with shock.
"Master Roshi?!"
Krillin also rushed out of the house, his face showing obvious fear. He looked in the same direction as Roshi, his voice trembling.
"This... this is?! The person who fought Goku last time? S-such powerful ki!"
He was so terrified he could barely speak properly. He looked at Master Roshi, hoping to get a sense of security from the God of Martial Arts.
An extremely complex expression appeared on Master Roshi's face, which finally turned into a long sigh. He shook his head and murmured under his breath, "I'm old, really old... These young people nowadays, each one is as strong as a monster... I really can't understand this world anymore."
Krillin swallowed hard and said with difficulty in a low voice, "Could it be... in the previous battle... Goku... he lost?"
...
Vegeta couldn't be bothered with the two faint ki signatures in the distance that were almost negligible.
His entire mind was now focused on making a wish.
His figure sped across the sea, and soon, a small, seemingly deserted island appeared in his field of vision.
The island was lush with trees, but there were no signs of human activity.
"This is the place!"
Vegeta quickly landed on the beach of this deserted island.
With an excited and reverent heart, he solemnly and carefully placed the seven Dragon Balls on the sand.
After adjusting his breathing, he faced the Dragon Balls and, with the loudest voice he could muster, shouted full of desire, "I want to become stronger than Whitley!!!"
...
There was silence all around.
Only the rustling of the sea breeze through the coconut grove and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore.
The Dragon Balls lay quietly on the sand, showing no reaction.
A seagull, startled by Vegeta's sudden shout, let out a series of panicked "caw-caw-caws" and flew away in a fluster.
Vegeta: "..."
The excitement and anticipation on his face froze instantly.
'Could it be... that Earth woman lied to me?'
Vegeta's brow furrowed, but he immediately dismissed the idea.
'No! There's no reason for her to lie to me! Something must have gone wrong!'
He slapped his hand, thinking he had found the key. "Right! It must be the placement! Or the wishing posture is wrong! This won't stump me, Vegeta!"
He immediately got to work, rearranging the seven Dragon Balls with extreme seriousness. This time, he arranged the scattered Dragon Balls into a neat shape.
Then he took another deep breath and shouted with an even more powerful voice, "I want to become stronger than Whitley!!!"
The Dragon Balls: "..."
Veins began to pop on Vegeta's forehead.
Still not discouraged, he tried again, this time arranging the Dragon Balls in a straight line...
...
At this time, in Kami's Lookout.
Kami and Mr. Popo were watching Vegeta's busy figure on the deserted island.
Kami had a dark expression, the corner of his mouth twitching as he complained to Mr. Popo beside him, "Mr. Popo... this Prince of Saiyans... is he... a little bit off up here?"
He pointed to his own head.
Mr. Popo remained blank-faced, silently watching Vegeta who was still persistently adjusting the pattern of the Dragon Balls. After a moment of silence, he nodded affirmatively and replied in his flat voice, "Kami is right."
...
West City, at the Briefs' estate.
Bulma was in her room, helplessly looking at the large pile of documents Whitley had brought back, feeling overwhelmed.
She sighed and muttered a complaint under her breath. "What an idiot... can't even handle filling out a few dozen forms... useless man... If he dares not to prepare ninety-nine roses for me when he proposes in the future..."
She paused, as if remembering Whitley's trouble-averse personality, and casually corrected herself, "No! Nine! If he doesn't prepare nine roses for me and create a romantic proposal, this young lady isn't going to marry him!"
She selectively ignored the fact that roses were readily available everywhere on Earth and not difficult to obtain.
After all, based on her understanding of that guy's emotional intelligence, it was highly likely that she would have to secretly buy the roses herself, stuff them into his hand, and then have him get down on one knee to give them back to her, just to complete this "romantic" ceremony...
As she thought about this, Bulma's mind began to wander.
She started to imagine the scene of her marrying Whitley in the future, their daily life with children. She temporarily forgot about the documents she needed to fill out.
Just as Bulma was fantasizing about the future—
BOOM!!!
A huge sonic boom suddenly came from the sky, making the window panes buzz!
Bulma was startled by the sudden loud noise, which instantly pulled her back to reality.
She frowned, got up, and walked to the window to look outside.
A figure was descending from the sky at an extremely high speed, landing with a boom on the estate's lawn and kicking up a cloud of grass and dust—
The newcomer was none other than Vegeta, who had gone out to find the Dragon Balls.
"Seriously!"
Bulma pushed open the window and shouted irritably at Vegeta outside. "Can't you be a little quieter when you land?! You nearly scared me to death! Did you collect all the Dragon Balls? Give them to me."
As she spoke, she was about to reach her hand out the window, signaling for Vegeta to hand them over.
Vegeta snorted coldly. Not only did he not hand over the Dragon Balls, but he also subconsciously clutched them a little tighter.
He suppressed his anger and asked in a stiff tone, "Cut the crap! Woman! Tell me, how exactly do I make a wish with this Dragon Ball?!"
Bulma was stunned by his question, then she realized that this guy was planning to keep the Dragon Balls for himself.
Just as she was about to speak, a slight breeze flashed beside her, and Whitley appeared next to her with a smile.
He reached out and naturally wrapped an arm around Bulma, pulling her into his embrace.
Then he looked at the annoyed Vegeta with a smile and asked in a relaxed tone, "Judging by your tone... are you planning to use the Dragon Balls yourself?"
Vegeta's face was icy, and with a "I've already seen through you" expression, he said arrogantly, "So what if I am! Whitley! I already know your secret! You became so strong by making a wish to this ball, right?! Otherwise, how could a high-class warrior like you possibly be stronger than me, the noble Saiyan Prince Vegeta?! It just doesn't make sense!"
Seeing Vegeta's absolutely certain expression, as if he had grasped the truth of the world, Whitley didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
He deliberately sighed and said with an indifferent expression, "Fine, fine, think whatever you want. If you want to use them yourself, go ahead."
Vegeta didn't expect Whitley to admit it so readily. He was stunned for a moment and immediately followed up, "Hmph! Easy for you to say! Do you dare to tell me how to use this thing?!"
Bulma couldn't help but interject at this point, "Are you an idiot? Of course, you have to summon the eternal dragon! How else did you think you make a wish? By shouting directly at the Dragon Balls?"
Whitley looked at Vegeta's instantly flushed face, finding it amusing, and almost burst out laughing again.
'Looks like he really did try shouting directly at the Dragon Balls.'
He managed to hold back his laughter, cleared his throat, and said, "It's simple. You place the seven Dragon Balls on the ground, shout 'Arise, Shenron, and grant my wish,' and then tell him your wish."
Vegeta looked at Whitley with suspicion, but ultimately decided to do as he said.
He took the seven Dragon Balls from his arms and carefully placed them on the lawn.
After taking a deep breath, Vegeta looked sharply at Whitley, his tone tinged with provocation. "Aren't you... worried that my power will surpass yours after I make my wish?"
Whitley and Bulma exchanged a glance, and with a synergy befitting a married couple, they both shrugged and said in unison, "Be our guest."
They even made a synchronized "Please begin your performance" gesture.
Vegeta was so annoyed by their perfunctory attitude that his teeth itched. He told himself that making the wish was the key! He forced himself to focus his attention on the Dragon Balls.
He took a deep look at Whitley, as if to commit his current "arrogant" face to memory.
Then, he faced the Dragon Balls and, with all his might, shouted, "Arise! Shenron! And, grant my wish!!!"
VMMMMMM—!!!!
As if in response to his call, the seven Dragon Balls instantly burst forth with a dazzling golden light!
The sky over West City suddenly plunged into an eerie darkness, as if night had fallen prematurely!
The light from the seven Dragon Balls grew stronger, finally turning into a golden pillar of light that shot into the sky!
A soul-shaking dragon's roar echoed through the heavens and the earth!
A divine dragon, emerald green all over and exuding endless majesty, took shape from the light.
Its enormous body coiled and twisted in the dark clouds. After a moment, it lowered its head, its huge red eyes sweeping over the tiny humans on the ground.
Shenron spoke, its voice low and magnificent, "O summoner of the eternal dragon! State your wish! Whatever it may be, I can... uh?!"
Halfway through its sentence, Shenron's majestic gaze swept over Whitley on the ground, and its massive dragon body stiffened abruptly.
Its originally magnificent tone took a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, becoming incomparably humble. "It... it is the esteemed Lord Whitley, the God of Destruction! I wonder if you have summoned this humble dragon for any instructions?"
The excitement and anticipation on Vegeta's face, who was just about to state his wish, froze instantly, turning into extreme shock and disbelief!
He whipped his head around, his eyeballs almost popping out.
He stared deadly at the innocent-looking Whitley beside him, his voice stuttering from extreme horror. "G-G-God of Destruction?! You... you're a God of Destruction?!!"
Whitley was amused by Vegeta's reaction.
He waved his hand with a "stay low-key, stay low-key" expression.
Then he said very "humbly" to Shenron, "Oh my, Shenron, you're too polite. No need for that, no need for that! I'm just an apprentice, still a long way from being official, not a big shot at all."
Then he pointed at the petrified Vegeta beside him and said to Shenron with a grin, "Don't mind me. I'm not the one who summoned you today. It was that one over there, you see, the short guy."
Bulma, watching Whitley's feigned humility but actual smugness, couldn't help but reach out and pinch his cheeks, pulling them to the sides, and said with a look of disgust, "Don't smile like that! It's so ugly!"
Whitley's speech became muffled from the pinching. "Mmph... how wash I shmiling... Thish ish clearly a gentle shmile..."
Bulma rolled her eyes dramatically and retorted irritably, "Your smile just now was thirty percent smugness, thirty percent carelessness, thirty percent creepiness, and ten percent mockery! It's hideous!"
Whitley: "..."
He pulled Bulma into a tight hug, and with his other hand, he tousled her short blue hair, saying with amusement, "Good grief, are you making a pie chart for me? And with such precise analysis?"
Vegeta watched the two who had started to flirt, completely ignoring the existence of Shenron and himself, and felt an anonymous rage rush to his head!
He forcibly suppressed his anger and refocused his attention on Shenron in the sky.
"Hey!"
Vegeta crossed his arms, looked up at Shenron, and questioned in a tone full of suspicion, "You said you can grant any wish of mine, is that true?!"
Shenron's huge head drooped slightly, its red dragon eyes glancing at Whitley.
Seeing that Whitley had no reaction, it resumed its profound and majestic posture and nodded slightly.
"Then! Listen up!"
Vegeta took a deep breath and shouted his ambition with all his might. "My wish is—to make my power stronger than that God of Destruction Whitley you speak of!!!"
There was silence.
Shenron: "..."
The huge dragon face seemed to be stunned.
Its red dragon eyes blinked humanly, and a drop of cold sweat even seemed to roll down its forehead.
After a long while, Shenron's magnificent voice sounded again, with a hint of undisguised speechlessness. "I'm sorry... that wish... hmm... is a bit unrealistic. Make another one."
"Wh... what?!"
Vegeta was stunned. He confirmed again, "What... what did you say?! Say that again?! Didn't you say you could grant any wish?! Why can't you grant this one?!!"
Shenron's huge head seemed to shake helplessly. It persuaded in a low voice, its tone even carrying a hint of pity. "Make another one, Saiyan. The wish you mentioned... is impossible to grant."
"Im... impossible?!"
Vegeta felt his convictions suffer a huge blow, but he was not willing to give up!
He immediately thought of a backup plan. "Then... then grant me the ability of eternal life and immortality!!!"
Shenron shook its head again, its tone even more helpless. "I'm sorry... that... I can't grant either. I can only make your injuries heal faster, or increase your natural lifespan. You can choose one of the two."
Having two consecutive wishes mercilessly rejected, Vegeta completely exploded with anger!
His heart full of expectation and ambition turned into a monstrous rage!
"This won't work! That won't work! What can you do?! What's the use of you?!"
Vegeta pointed at Shenron, his body trembling with anger.
"I get it! You're all in this together! You're all tricking me! You can't grant any wishes at all! You're just working together to make a fool of me, Vegeta!!! Right?!!"
Shenron looked at the almost-depressed Vegeta below, its huge dragon face showing an extremely anthropomorphic expression of speechlessness.
It sighed and said helplessly, "I am not deceiving you. It's just... your wishes are really... a bit too outrageous. Make a simpler, more realistic wish. For example... do you want a lot of money? Or immense power?"
"Heh... what's the use of that trash..."
The light in Vegeta's eyes completely disappeared, all his hope and passion seemingly drained in an instant.
He muttered dejectedly, feeling as if the whole world was mocking him, Vegeta.
He no longer looked at Shenron, nor at Whitley and Bulma.
With a sudden stomp, his figure shot into the sky like a streak of light and instantly disappeared over the horizon.
He left behind only a silhouette full of frustration and anger for the few people present.
The atmosphere became a bit awkward for a moment.
Whitley looked in the direction Vegeta had disappeared, rubbed his chin, and suddenly said to Shenron in the sky, "Shenron, you can still grant a wish, right? Then... make that guy who just flew away six centimeters taller. Consider it a little consolation for him."
Shenron was instantly relieved as if granted a great amnesty.
Its eyes immediately glowed red, and it hurriedly replied, "As you wish, Lord Whitley!"
As its voice fell, Shenron's massive body quickly disintegrated into seven rays of light.
They then scattered to the various corners of the Earth, waiting to be revived again in a year.
Bulma looked at the Dragon Balls disappearing into streaks of light and shook her head with some regret. "Seriously... I was thinking of wishing for Mom to be a few years younger... Now, a chance has been completely wasted."
Whitley smiled and took Bulma's small hand, squeezing it gently to comfort her. "It's okay, a year passes quickly. We can just make a wish next year. Come on, I'll help you sort out those documents that need to be filled out."
As he spoke, he took Bulma's hand and turned to walk back into the house.
...
Meanwhile, Vegeta, who was flying aimlessly at high speed, his heart filled with humiliation and anger, suddenly felt a faint warmth spread through his body.
He clearly felt his limbs and torso being gently pulled by some invisible force!
And then... he found that his perspective... seemed... to have become slightly higher?
Vegeta: "???"
He abruptly stopped flying and subconsciously looked down at his hands and feet, then gestured at his height.
It seemed... he really had grown a little taller?
He snorted coldly, trying to push this strange change out of his mind.
He closed his eyes and sensed the ki of Nappa and Raditz, preparing to rendezvous with them.
But on his usually stern, foul face, the tightly pursed corners of his mouth unintentionally blossomed.
Finally, unable to suppress it, they curved slightly upward, forming a very tiny arc.
(An arc of one pixel.)
---
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