Back at the Capsule Corporation mansion, Krillin stared at the veritable constellation of stunning women around Goku. His jaw hung slack for a moment before he snapped out of it, grabbing Goku by the collar and shaking him vigorously, his voice thick with envy, jealousy, and indignation.
"What did you say?! They're… they're all your…? You scoundrel! You said you were going off-world to train, not to collect a harem!"
"Well, it's a bit of a long story," Goku replied, grinning with unabashed pride at the flabbergasted expressions on his friends' faces.
"G-Goku… you stole my girlfriend!" Yamcha's gaze flickered between a smiling Bulma and Goku, his expression a mix of displeasure and wounded pride. He and Bulma had history. To have her suddenly counted among Goku's wives, even if their own relationship had been rocky, was a blow to his ego.
"Well, actually, a lot of things happened. It's… complicated," Goku offered with a shrug.
"Goku, pay him no mind," Bulma interjected, hands on her hips as she stared Yamcha down. "Yamcha, for the last time, we're through! I broke up with you ages ago, so what I do is none of your business!"
"Krillin… my heart is shattered. Let's get a drink," Yamcha sighed, his expression theatrically dejected, though the genuine hurt seemed minimal. His feelings for Bulma had always been more about convenience than passion, and his own wandering eye was no secret. Still, being one-upped so completely by his friend Goku stung a little.
Krillin, unsure how to comfort him, just clapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards the bar. Goku, feeling a twinge of guilt for his old comrade, joined them.
---
Time flowed peacefully. Three months passed in the blink of an eye. The day of the 24th World Martial Arts Tournament had arrived.
Truthfully, Goku had little interest in the tournament itself. His power level had long since rendered such earthly competitions trivial. However, according to the original timeline, this was where he was destined to meet his 'official' wife, Chi-Chi. So, attend he must.
Goku, Bulma, and the other women arrived at the tournament grounds in a sleek, luxurious Capsule Corp car. The venue was a sea of people, buzzing with excitement and noise.
The moment Goku and his entourage stepped out of the vehicle, they drew countless stares. A group of such breathtaking women was bound to turn heads. A few overconfident, clueless men swaggered over, clearly intending to flirt. Before a single cheesy line could leave their mouths, Goku's foot connected with the first one's midsection. The man shot into the sky like a human cannonball, disappearing into a distant speck. The others froze, their faces draining of color as cold sweat broke out on their brows, before turning and fleeing for their lives.
"Grown-up Goku is… intense," Krillin murmured from a short distance away, watching the scene with his companions.
"Indeed! Little Goku was much cuter," Master Roshi agreed with a nostalgic sigh, before his gaze immediately turned lecherous as it swept over Goku's companions. "To think he ended up with so many lovely wives and won't share even one! And I was so good to him when he was a boy!"
Yamcha couldn't help but wipe a bead of sweat from his temple. "Uh, Master Roshi… you might want to keep thoughts like that to yourself. Given Goku's current… temperament, he might just decide to rearrange your skeleton."
"Yo! You guys got here early!" Goku called out, leading the women over to his old friends with a casual wave.
"Goku, if you're entering this tournament, I guess the rest of us are just competing for second place," Krillin said with a wry, helpless smile. His eyes then darted again to the beautiful women behind Goku, and a flash of pure, unadulterated envy crossed his face. He wasn't alone; Yamcha wore a similar expression of pained admiration.
"Attention all contestants for the 24th World Martial Arts Tournament! The preliminary rounds will now commence! Please proceed immediately to the main martial arts hall!" A loudspeaker announcement boomed across the grounds.
"It's starting! Goku, let's go!" Krillin perked up, his competitive spirit overriding his envy for a moment.
Goku nodded. He turned to Bulma and the others. "I'll head in. You all find some good seats."
The women nodded in understanding. Saeko had wanted to compete as well, but Goku had flatly refused. No way is my girl putting on a show for a crowd of strangers, he'd thought.
"Let's move, Krillin!" Goku led the way, his eyes scanning the bustling crowd as he walked. He was looking for a specific figure but didn't see her yet. Krillin, Yamcha, and the others fell in step behind him.
Entering the bustling martial arts hall, Goku's casual demeanor suddenly shifted. His brow furrowed. A powerful, distinctive, and unsettlingly familiar ki signature pricked at his senses.
His gaze was drawn to a lone figure standing calmly by a tall window. Goku's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
This guy… he looks like one of Frieza's race! A survivor? But… not quite. The figure had a similar basic build to Frieza or King Cold, but key differences were immediately apparent. His body was encased in what looked like natural, chitinous blue armor plating. Two sharp, blue horns swept back from his forehead. Most striking was his tail—not smooth, but segmented and ending in a vicious, barbed point. He radiated a cold, controlled power that felt… denser, more refined than Frieza's explosive rage.
He feels significantly stronger than Frieza or his father. A slow smile spread across Goku's face. Hah… interesting. This is getting very interesting. It seems my presence really has started to ripple through the timeline. Maybe this tournament won't be so boring after all.
The stranger turned from the window as if sensing Goku's attention. A calm, almost gentle smile touched his lips as he walked directly towards the Saiyan.
"You are Son Goku, correct?" the being asked, his voice smooth and polite. "I have been searching for you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Searching for me? You know who I am?" Goku replied, his curiosity piqued.
"Heh… but of course." The man's smile remained serene. "I came to Earth specifically to thank you. To thank you for destroying Planet Frieza. You see, I was encased in the planetary crust of that world, in a state of cryogenic suspension, for several millennia. Had you not annihilated the planet, had your magnificent energy not resonated with my prison… I likely would never have awakened."
"Planet Frieza?" Goku's eyes narrowed. So he IS connected to that tyrant's lineage. Frozen for thousands of years? That's… serious.
"Just who are you?" Goku asked, his tone losing its casual edge, becoming serious and focused.
"My name is Coola. Like Frieza and his ilk, I am a genetic deviation within our species. However, I am… a more refined model. Stronger. A minor accident millennia ago led to my entombment within Planet Frieza's surface. Thanks to you, I have been liberated."
Coola's gentle smile never wavered. Yet, as he finished speaking, Goku felt it—a subtle shift in the air, a creeping, profound pressure that had nothing to do with brute force. It was an ancient, calculated coldness that seeped into the bones.
Goku's expression shifted from curiosity to stark alertness. Damn. This strange, oppressive feeling… it's setting off every alarm bell I have.
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