Smith found Bulma in the lab, hunched over a workbench. The smell of solder hung in the air as she tinkered with some kind of compact energy analyzer, a magnifying lamp illuminating her focused expression. She looked up as he entered.
"Bulma, want to go on a Dragon Ball hunt?"
He was thinking about the ball that had fallen into the ocean. Without his intervention, that particular Dragon Ball might never be found. Bruce Banner stumbling across the one in the cave was already pushing the limits of probability. There was no way someone would randomly discover one sitting at the bottom of the sea.
Bulma's face lit up instantly. "That's great!" Her chair scraped back as she jumped to her feet. "I've been wanting to do this forever."
She practically threw off her white lab coat, tossing it onto the chair. She yanked open a drawer, pulling out the Dragon Ball Radar.
Smith gestured toward the door. "Let's go."
Since they were heading out over open water, Smith decided against flying Bulma there himself. Instead, he had Yelena prep one of the helicopters. The Black Widow's sister was turning into a reliable pilot, and Smith trusted her to get them to the deep-sea location without complications.
Across the country in San Francisco, members of the Golden Daggers gang pulled up to a slightly worn apartment building in Chinatown. The air smelled of diesel fumes and distant cooking.
With Xu Shang Chi's photo in hand, tracking down a specific Chinese man in the city hadn't been particularly difficult. The Golden Daggers had connections throughout the community, and a few discreet questions had led them straight here.
They climbed the concrete stairs to the sixteenth floor, their footsteps echoing in the quiet stairwell, and stopped in front of apartment 1604.
Inside, Xu Shang Chi, who now went by Sean, was in the middle of his daily workout routine. His arms pumped rhythmically as he cranked out push-ups, his body a blur of controlled motion. Years away from his father's organization hadn't made him soft. He still trained every single day, the floorboards creaking faintly under the strain.
The sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the air.
Shang Chi paused mid-rep, holding himself just above the floor. It was his day off. He let himself relax, a small, hopeful expression crossing his face. Maybe Katie was stopping by?
He pushed himself to his feet, his shirt clinging to his sweat-dampened chest. Defined muscles moved under his skin as he grabbed a clean shirt from a hanger and pulled it on. He walked to the door and peered through the peephole.
The fisheye lens showed several Chinese men standing in the hallway, their expressions neutral.
His guard dropped slightly. They didn't look like his father's enforcers, who always wore a specific kind of cold arrogance. Still, something felt off. His hand hesitated on the deadbolt.
Shang Chi opened the door partway, leaving the chain on. "Hello. Can I help you?"
The red-haired man in front studied him carefully, his eyes flicking from the photo in his hand to Shang Chi's face. "Xu Shang Chi?"
Ice flooded Shang Chi's veins. His breath hitched. Nobody here knew that name. He'd left it behind years ago when he fled his father's criminal empire. Here, he was Sean. Just Sean.
"Sorry, wrong person," he said, his voice tight. "I'm Sean."
He pushed the door closed, his mind already racing. His father had found him. He spun, grabbed his jacket and backpack from a nearby chair, and headed for the window. Sixteenth floor or not, he'd climbed down from worse.
"I work for Xu Xialing."
The voice was muffled but clear through the door. Shang Chi froze, his hand on the window latch. He turned slowly, then strode back and yanked the door back open.
"Wait. Who did you say you work for?"
The red-haired man looked relieved that he didn't have to chase someone down sixteen flights of stairs. "Let me start over. I'm with the Golden Daggers. Name's Sean, actually. My boss is Xu Xialing."
Shang Chi blinked, the tension draining out of him, replaced by confusion. "Your name is Sean too?"
Of all the coincidences. He'd picked the name Sean to disappear into American society, and his sister had a lieutenant with the same name.
"Yeah, I'm Sean. And your sister, Xu Xialing, sent us to bring you to her."
Shang Chi's expression hardened, suspicion returning. "What proof do you have?"
Sean pulled out his phone and opened a video call. After a few rings, he turned the screen toward Shang Chi.
Xialing's face appeared on the display.
Shang Chi recognized her immediately, though she looked older now. Harder. More dangerous. The guilt hit him like a physical punch to the gut. He'd promised to take her with him when he fled their father's compound. Instead, he'd run alone and left her behind to face their father's disappointment.
"Sister. Ha ha." The awkward laugh died in his throat. "What do you need? You're not here to drag me back to Dad, are you?"
Xialing's expression remained cold, her eyes sharp even over the video. "Xu Shang Chi, come to New York. I need your help with something."
Shang Chi shook his head, taking a step back. "I want to live a normal life. I don't want to get involved in family business anymore."
"You owe me this." Xialing's voice cut like a blade, sharp and cold. "You have to help me."
Her composure cracked, and anger, years of it, bled through. "You promised to take me with you. I waited for you, night after night. Is this how you act as a brother?"
Shang Chi flinched, his gaze dropping.
"Do you know how much you hurt me?" she continued, her voice rising. "After you ran away, Father became even more dissatisfied with me. Do you know what kind of life I've been living these past few years?"
"Come to New York. Now. Immediately."
"This matter is very important. I'll explain everything when you get here."
The video call ended abruptly, leaving Shang Chi staring at the blank screen, his own reflection looking back at him. Guilt churned in his stomach. She was right. He'd abandoned her. He'd been a coward, and she had paid the price for it.
He looked up at Red-Haired Sean, his shoulders slumping. "Okay. I'll go to New York with you." His voice softened. "But can you tell me what happened? Why does she need me?"
Sean considered the question, then answered carefully. "The boss was in London buying something. A man tried to rob her and nearly killed her."
He met Shang Chi's eyes. "If our brothers hadn't put their lives on the line, you wouldn't be talking to her right now."
The last bit of defeated acceptance vanished from Shang Chi's face. His jaw tightened. "What was she buying? It's not drugs or something illegal, is it?"
Sean shook his head. "A sphere called a Dragon Ball."
"It was listed on the dark web for five million dollars. The seller upped the price to ten million, then tried to rob her instead of completing the deal." He shrugged. "I don't know what the thing actually does."
Relief washed over Shang Chi. Not drugs or weapons. That was something, at least. But ten million dollars? And someone had tried to kill his sister over it?
He thought about his own life. Working as a valet in San Francisco, parking rich people's cars for tips, scraping by. Meanwhile, his sister was running a criminal empire and throwing around this kind of figure sums.
And someone had tried to rob her. To kill her.
Anger surged through him, hot and sudden. His fists clenched at his sides.
"Let's go to New York."
He turned and walked to his closet, yanking it open. He grabbed a stack of clothes and started shoving them into his backpack. In his haste, he balled up a few shirts and threw them in, completely unaware of the small, round sphere pressed between two folds of fabric. The sphere that, if examined closely, bore four red stars arranged in a specific pattern.
The Seven-Star Dragon Ball disappeared into his backpack, wrapped in fabric, completely forgotten.
Over the Pacific Ocean, the thump-thump-thump of the rotors was a steady beat against the endless blue expanse. Yelena guided the helicopter with a sure hand.
Bulma unbuckled and walked up to the cockpit, leaning between the two front seats. She held out the Dragon Ball Radar.
"Fly toward this light," she said, pointing to a single, steady blip. "Let us know when we get close."
Yelena glanced at the glowing point on the screen and nodded. "Got it. I'll tell you when we reach that point."
Bulma placed the radar on the console where Yelena could reference it, then returned to the passenger compartment. She settled in next to Smith, leaning against his shoulder comfortably. She immediately started chatting about potential modifications to the radar's detection range.
Smith half-listened, his gaze on the ocean below. Four balls accounted for now. Three more to find. And somewhere out there, other players were making their moves.