"Huh?"
Videl blinked, then shook her head.
"No, Dad. Didn't you just give me a million earlier?"
Leaning lightly against him, she spoke in a quieter voice, a little embarrassed.
"It's not like I need that much. You work hard for your money, and I don't really spend much anyway. A million is already plenty."
"How can that be!"
Mr. Satan panicked a little. He instinctively tightened his hold on her shoulders before catching himself.
"You have to take it! This is your father's heartfelt gift!"
"Dad, you're acting weird…"
Videl pouted slightly, clearly dissatisfied by how insistently he was trying to throw money at her.
She was proud, independent, and strong-willed. A true martial arts girl through and through.
Most of the allowance Mr. Satan had given her in the past had long since been put to use in smart investments. Whether she made a fortune or not was beside the point. At the very least, she had no trouble maintaining the comfortable life of a rich young lady.
Money was never what Videl lacked.
What she lacked was her father's time.
His attention.
His care.
Before today, Mr. Satan had spent years buried in frustration and obsession, throwing himself into training day after day. He had rarely shown her much affection, let alone stayed by her side for long.
"If I had to choose…"
Videl's voice softened.
"I'd rather Dad spend more time with me than give me more money."
She gently stepped out of his arms, turned around, and clasped her hands behind her back, lightly kicking at the deck.
"Of course… if you're busy, then it's fine."
Ding!
Bull Coin acquisition cannot violate the target's will. Forced giving does not generate Bull Coins!
That system prompt cooled Mr. Satan down immediately.
He took a deep breath, then stepped forward with genuine apology in his eyes.
"You're right. That was my mistake."
He paused, then smiled.
"How about this? Tonight, I'll take you to the most luxurious hotel in town for a candlelit dinner. Just the two of us."
"Really?"
Videl turned around at once, eyes sparkling.
"You're not training tonight?"
Before the Cell Games, her father had been obsessed with becoming World Champion. Even when they lived under the same roof, he was often absent in all the ways that mattered.
Afterward, he had become even more famous. A global hero. The savior of Earth. Owner of his own martial arts center. Wealthy beyond imagination.
And yet somehow, he had only grown more distant.
Still, none of that mattered right now.
He was here.
That alone made her happy.
"But training is important too, isn't it?"
Videl glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then quickly looked away again.
Now that his afro was gone, with his clean-cut buzzed hair, fitted robe, broad shoulders, and stern features, Mr. Satan looked far more imposing than before. With his fame, wealth, and new aura, there probably wasn't a girl on Earth who wouldn't at least look twice.
Much like the girls still lingering around the cruise ship.
"Hmph. I don't believe you," Videl said, folding her arms. "There are still all those girls on the ship."
A trace of jealousy slipped into her voice.
Mr. Satan glanced around, then snapped his fingers at once.
"Get rid of them."
The bald bodyguard hurried over and asked cautiously, "Boss… should we still pay them?"
"Pay them?"
Mr. Satan snorted.
"Pay them for what? Send them away. Didn't Videl just say it? We're not wasting money on this kind of thing anymore."
Spending money on people who produced no Bull Coins was a complete waste.
Mr. Satan shot the bodyguard a sharp glare. Useless.
In the future, if he ever found women with system value and real combat potential, he might as well replace all these deadweight subordinates.
After all, if gifts, salaries, bonuses, and benefits all counted toward the system's reimbursement…
Then wouldn't Bull Coins start flowing in by the truckload?
The more he thought about it, the better it sounded.
"Yes, yes, right away!"
The bald bodyguard bowed repeatedly and hurried off.
Soon, amid sighs of disappointment from the girls on board, the entire deck was cleared, leaving only Mr. Satan and Videl behind.
"Well?"
Mr. Satan turned back to her with a broad smile.
"What do you think, my dear daughter?"
Videl's mood immediately improved. She leaned against him again, looking much more pleased.
"Money isn't easy to earn. Not wasting it is the right thing to do."
"Of course."
Mr. Satan smiled warmly.
"From now on, I won't waste it. I'll spend it where it matters."
Bull Coins required willing acceptance. If Videl did not want cash, then he simply needed to give her something she truly wanted.
That was easy enough.
"No more allowance," Videl said firmly. "I really have enough."
Mr. Satan raised a finger.
"No, no, no. Videl… don't you want to become stronger? Like me?"
Her eyes widened.
He saw it instantly.
Interest.
Excitement.
Hope.
"How about this?" he continued, voice full of confidence. "I'll build you a private training room. The best one money can buy. I'll hire top-level coaches, get you elite equipment, and create a place worthy of the daughter of the World Champion."
His eyes shone brighter and brighter as he spoke.
Yes.
This was perfect.
The system only required that the girl willingly accept the gift. It never said the gift had to be money.
So if he gave Videl exactly what she wanted most…
Wouldn't that solve everything?
A cutting-edge training room.
Done.
A gravity chamber.
Done.
The best training equipment on Earth.
Done.
Budget?
Ten million Zeni.
A massive expenditure.
But worth it.
To anyone else, ten million Zeni might be a staggering amount of money.
To Mr. Satan, it was an investment in two futures at once.
One was Videl's growth.
The other was his own.
If the Bull Coin return worked as advertised, then the benefits would be immeasurable.
And that was before even considering the combat power exchange.
Of course, in the grand scheme of things, ten million battle power was not enough to place him among the true monsters of this era.
This was post-Cell Games.
The top-tier Saiyans were already operating on a completely different level. Even Piccolo was far beyond ordinary fighters.
Compared to them, ten million battle power was awkward. Too much for normal Earthlings, nowhere near enough for the true elites.
But that did not matter.
What mattered was momentum.
A foothold.
A path forward.
And as for the so-called "Champion's genetic enhancement serum" he had just started imagining…
Mr. Satan narrowed his eyes and let out a quiet, crafty laugh.
If the system judged value based on the worth of "any item" given to a girl…
Then maybe…
Just maybe…
The genes of the World Champion himself would prove to be worth quite a lot indeed.
"Heh heh…"