It took five hours before Bulma finally saw the glint of the Gurumes River.
The sun was already dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of purple and dark grey.
Bulma killed the engine after hours of road.
Her back ached, her arms were sore from wrestling the steering wheel, and she was in a foul mood.
She looked toward the riverbank.
There was smoke rising from a clearing near the water.
And the smell of roasted meat.
Bulma stepped out of the jeep.
Goku was sitting cross-legged by a crackling fire, turning a massive wooden spit.
Impaled on the spit was an entire wolf, skinned and roasting golden-brown over the flames.
He looked up, waving a greasy hand.
"Yo! You took a long time."
Bulma blinked, leaning against the hood of the jeep for support.
"You..." She gestured vaguely at the scenery.
"You actually found the right place. I thought I'd find you halfway back, crying in a ditch."
"I just had to run straight." Goku tore a leg off the wolf and took a massive bite.
"Want some? It's wolf. A bit tough, but good."
"I'll pass."
She walked closer to the fire, craving the warmth.
"So, be honest. How long have you been waiting here?"
Goku chewed thoughtfully, swallowing the mouthful with a gulp.
"I don't know exactly. I don't have a clock." He shrugged.
"But I got here a few minutes after I left you. I had time to catch this guy, skin him, find wood, and cook him. So... a while."
A few minutes?
Her mind, trained in engineering and physics, involuntarily crunched the numbers.
The distance was two hundred and fifty kilometers. If he arrived "a few minutes" after leaving the car, let's be generous and say ten minutes. That meant he covered the distance at a speed of...
One thousand five hundred kilometers per hour.
She stared at the boy, who was currently licking wolf grease off his fingers.
He broke the sound barrier, he didn't just outrun the car. He outran sound... Amazing.
A heavy drop of water hit her nose. Then another.
Thunder rumbled overhead. The sky finally opened up, and a cold rain began to pour, hissing as it hit the campfire.
"Looks like it's tea time, then." Bulma sighed, pulling her jacket tighter.
"Are we crossing the river now?" Goku asked, unbothered by the rain.
"No. It's dark and I'm exhausted. We camp here tonight. Besides, I need to recalibrate the Dragon Radar. If we want the exact location of the next sphere, I need to fine-tune the tracking algorithm."
Goku finished the wolf leg and tossed the bone into the bushes.
"Okay. Sleeping is good. I'm full anyway."
Bulma reached into her hip pouch and pulled out a small case.
She scanned the row of numbered cylinders and selected one with the number '94' printed on the side.
"Stand back."
She pressed the button on the top and tossed it onto a flat patch of grass.
POOF.
A cloud of white smoke exploded outward.
When it cleared, a sleek, white domed house stood where there was once only mud, complete with a front door and lighted windows.
"If we have to sleep in the middle of the jungle, let's at least do it in comfort." Bulma said, unlocking the door
Goku leaped backward, grabbing the Nyoibo.
"I knew it!" He pointed an accusatory finger at her.
"My instincts never lie. You are a witch!"
Bulma spun around, glaring.
"Calling people a witch isn't cool, okay? It's offensive. But hey, if you want to sleep out here in the rain with the ticks and the mosquitoes, I don't care. Suit yourself."
Goku lowered his hand, looking from Bulma to the impossible house.
"But... how did you do that then?"
"They're called Hoi-Poi Capsules, from Capsule Corporation—my father's company, if you want the details. The name's science, something you clearly need to learn… fast."
Bulma commanded, holding the door open.
"Come in."
Goku stepped onto the tiled floor, looking around the dark interior with suspicion. He wiped his muddy boots on the mat, though it seemed more like an accident than a conscious effort to be polite.
Bulma flipped the switch on the wall.
Click.
Artificial light flooded the room, banishing the shadows instantly.
Goku gasped, looking up at the ceiling fixture, squinting against the brightness.
"Whoa! It's daytime in here!"
Bulma smiled, enjoying the show.
What a sheltered kid, his grandfather really must have been hiding him from civilization all these years.
She wanted to see just how deep this hole went.
She walked over to the entertainment cabinet and pressed the power button on the television set.
"Hey, Goku. Come look at this."
The screen crackled with static for a split second before resolving into the image of a news anchor reading the evening report.
Goku froze. He dropped into a defensive crouch, eyes locked on the screen.
"T-There's a little man in the box!"
He crept closer, tapping the glass screen with his knuckle.
"Hey! Can you hear me?"
He circled the TV, checking the back, looking for the door where the tiny person had entered.
"How did he fit in there? Is he trapped?"
Bulma watched him, resting her chin on her hand. It was fascinating.
It's like playing a game. You start with a character in the Stone Age and just drop them straight into the Electronics Era without researching any of the tech tree in between.
Goku raised his fist, preparing to shatter the screen.
"Hold on, little guy! I'm gonna break this glass prison and get you out!"
"Wait!"
Bulma jumped in front of the TV, arms spread wide.
"But the little man—"
"There is no little man! Look, it's... it's like a mirror. Or a painting that moves. No one is trapped inside. It's just a trick of the machine."
Goku lowered his fist, squinting at the news anchor.
"A moving painting...?" He poked the screen one last time. "
Weird. My head hurts thinking about it. I'm going to sleep."
He turned and walked past her to find a corner to curl up in.
As he passed, the air displacement carried a scent that hit Bulma.
It was a potent cocktail of wet dog and stale sweat.
Bulma gagged, pinching her nose instinctively.
"Ugh!"
She waved her hand in front of her face.
"Goku, stop right there."
He stopped, looking back over his shoulder.
"What?"
"You reek. When was the last time you took a bath? A real one?"
Goku thought for a moment, counting on his fingers.
"I swam in the lake... three days ago? Or maybe four."
"Swimming in a fish toilet isn't a bath." Bulma said, pointing to a door at the back of the room.
"Go to the bathroom. Use the hot water and soap as much as you want. Just scrub until the water runs clear."
Goku stared at the door, he looked lost.
"I don't know how to do that."
"You... don't know how to take a shower?"
"Grandpa just threw me in the river."
Bulma stood there, processing this. She looked at the dirty Goku, then at her pristine, high-tech bathroom.
A realization dawned on her, heavy and uncomfortable.
She was Bulma Starch. Heiress to the Capsule Corporation. She designed engines, coded software, and managed million-zeni budgets.
She didn't take care of children. She didn't play nanny. In her world, if something was dirty, she handed it to a housekeeper and it came back clean.
She delegated.
Now, staring at this feral child, she realized there was no one to delegate to.
Good grief...